[Eastern Gauthrel] A helping hand

[Varthakh]

24th Ymiden 717

It was officially his second trial back in Uthaldria. Six arcs, it had been six arcs since he'd been home in Nordhoff, he still wasn't there, but he was closer than he'd been in a very long time. The night prior, he'd stayed up, learning Haltunga with Alistair and Kaiserion. For once, he woke up before his mate. Something called to him in the fresh triallight, an urge. Following his gut, as he always had, Fridgar left the outpost at the crack of dawn and went for a walk through the fields and treelines.

As he walked, he found that the morning had turned surprisingly warm, it was certainly nearing Saun. Soon enough, he would be walking around shirtless, as Eric often scalded him for doing. For now, though, he kept his clothes on his body and prowled the green grasslands. His hand would reach into his pocket and felt about the totems he carried, five. Five totems, one being himself. That made for the Redbear of Ne’haer, the King Crocodile of Etzos, some giant shark thing from Etzos and Kaiserion. It soon dawned on him that he'd been travelling around western Idalos and taking totems as souvenirs. Not a bad strategy, but he needed more if he were to wage war with Rynmere.

Boldly, the Lothar walked straight through the middle of the plains. He travelled uphill and downhill alike, but made no effort to hide himself. A spectator would have probably thought that Fridgar was dull to behold himself so freely to the predators of Gauthrel, others would have seen him as a meal to feed their cubs, such thought the beast that followed him from a ways back.

Oblivious, the Lothar continued down a particularly steep hill. He turned to his side and eased himself down, using his paw nearest the ground for balance and support. The predator slunk close to the treeline, using the dim light and shadows to its advantage. It sized up the Lothar, he was certainly one of the bigger ones, confident in his walk too. Though, it hadn't seen him in these parts, neither had it seen or smelt any of his kin. This Lothar, he would be tender and plentiful. Enough to feed all three of the creature's cubs for trials to come.

Fridgar let loose his caution as he came to the bottom of the hill and finished the rest off with a controlled running decent. His journey brought him to the opening of a woodland, he halted himself with a skid and looked along the line of forest. The eyes of the stalker would light up with anticipation at the sight. The Lothar was as good as dead if he entered the woods, plenty of cover for the giant feline to make its approach and steal the kill in the blink of one it's mismatched eyes.

Fridgar had decided that he'd gone far enough and turned back to walk back up the hill in a single swift motion. The creature bared its fangs, apparently distressed that it's kill was getting away. No, this time, she would have her blood and her cubs would feast. Even if she had to attack this man in the open. Silently, a Scython-Ur stepped out from the shadows and pawed it's way over to the Lothar's trail. He hadn't noticed her. Quietly, she approached the unsuspecting victim, but hung low. By now, the morning had lit significantly, their shapes were visible on the hill side from a fair distance.

Meanwhile, Fridgar thought of Nordhoff and Robek. What would follow reuniting with his father?

[Aeon]

Five trials since he had been in Uthaldria and Aeon felt no different. He hoped that going out into the wilderness would help him feel better in some way. That hunting would relieve him of the darkness inside, and yet it didn't. All it did was cause even more stress, as he was worried for his life each time he exited a lotharen settlement. He still didn't know Haltunga, so there were occasionally difficulties in communicating with the locals. But more often than not, each village would have at least one lotharro capable of speaking common.

Now he was going back, hoping to get back to one of the settlements he had already spent a night in before it got dark. He had slept in a tent for the previous two trials, and it was now time to get back to civilisation. In the distance, the boy could see a hill and a forest just barely on its edges. He was getting closer, if he remembered correctly, there was a settlement on the other side of the forest. But there was also an incredibly territorial Scython-Ur in the forest, from what the locals told him, it had babies recently.

It would be best to avoid the forest, then, he thought as he made his way towards the hill, where he would go around the forest and eventually back into Uthaldria. He reached the side of the hill rather quickly, but that wasn't the problem. The problem was what he saw on the hill, near the forest. He hadn't ever seen a Scython-Ur before, but he could bet all his money on that being the real thing, as it walked out of the trees.

The lothar it was following, he didn't seem to care or know that he was being followed. Clearly not a Jeger. Not a Kriger either, since they were so far away from any real city, and plus, a Kriger would've noticed he was being followed. That only left one choice. He was a Bonde, which didn't really make much sense either, considering Aeon was certain that all breeders in the area knew of the Scython-Ur and would've been cautious when going near its forest. So what kind of lothar was it then? A common fool?

Alas, there was no time to think about what kind of man the lothar was, since he was in danger after all. The boy pulled out his bow and drew an arrow as quickly as he could, aiming for the body of the creature. Usually, he would've been aiming for the eye for an instant kill on the Scython, but he couldn't risk missing, all he needed to do was create a diversion. Aeon breathed in deeply and just as he was about to exhale released his hand from the arrow, launching it forward into the monster's side. Hopefully, it would turn around, or at least make some form of noise to alert the lothar fool.

[Varthakh]

Scaling the hill was difficult, not only was it steep, but the ground was brittle too. Dried earth crumbled as he climbed, breaking away clumps of grass. Whether this was a by-product of his tremendous weight or the warming of the arc at play, he didn't much care. It served as an annoyance for his endurance in climbing an otherwise fine hill. He'd have run if he didn't risk falling face first into the dirt, though drawing more attention to himself might have been a bad idea.

Fridgar had known from his father on the occasional conversation that the plains were dangerous, but he'd not ran into any trouble since starting his walk? Oblivious, he looked to his left and right to find no animals or monsters. It was odd, he'd expected to find at least one vicious beast while traversing the fields of Gauthrel. Maybe he was lucky not to have bumped into anything? Perhaps everything was still asleep in the twilight of a new trial? In honesty, he didn't really care. It just bothered him to have come all the way out here for mere self-reflection.

She kept low to the ground, almost dragging her weight in a powerful predatory prowl. As she inched closer, the sheer colossal size of the Lothar became fully apparent. Very few of his kind ever reached such heights or broadness; a shame. If all of them were that big, none of her kind would go hungry. A loosed arrow caught her attention. In an instant, she turned to bite the approaching sound, only to catch the arrow with her massive fangs and shatter the wood. Her prey stirred, halting and looking about, obviously, he'd heard it too. Her paw was forced. She rushed forward, opening her maw wide.

The loose of an arrow was abundantly obvious in the otherwise silent morning. Too many had been fired at him, too many had pierced his skin. He looked immediately to the direction of aeon and caught a glimpse of the arrow as it landed its mark.... in the maws of a giant fucking cat-thing. It had to look up at him a foot or so, but had a build bigger than most grizzly bears. If he had to guess, he'd say it was six feet tall and twelve feet long. This massive bulk of killer flesh was only a meter or so behind him when it pounced.

Fridgar yelped.

In an act of pure terror, he raised his arms and tried to grip the fast-approaching feline. He didn't succeed. The beast was too fast, even for the three sheets to the wind ability of Palenon. The creature landed its paw on his shoulders and sank its massive weight into the man before throwing its fangs down on his head. Before it managed, Fridgar reached above him and gripped... something. Though he couldn't tell what. It was long, hard, wet and somewhat warm. not only that, but he had to fight it for as long as he gripped.

He couldn't hold it for too long so hastily reached up to grip and push with his second paw, only to find the second of the Scython's massive fangs. Fridgar looked above to see the beast's drooling maw and massive yellow irises. Any fear that had once claimed his form soon dissipated as he gripped the beast by the handlebars. The look of its eye spun in his head, faster and faster. The eye of challenge perceived all eye contact as a threat, a challenge; it enraged him. Soon enough, all fear had been replaced with burning fury and the danger of the beast was revealed to him; moderate-high.

Fuelled by unrelenting rage, he took his adrenaline by the reigns and put all his strength into his back and core, from there, he shifted the weight of the Scython and threw it from his shoulders, but not before it could sunder his flesh with its claws. Fridgar did not cry with pain, no, he growled in blinding fury, maintaining his grip on the Scython as he tried to throw it to his left. The beast resisted, though struggled to find it's balance. It would pull its head and rip the Lothar forward a pace before he caught himself and pulled back. The two were matched for strength, neither would relent. Neither had seen the archer in the distance, and only one of them would be leaving this stand-off alive.

This would have been over so much sooner if either of them could find stable footing on the crumbling earth.

► Show Spoiler

Eye of Challenge: Unless Fridgar knows them to be a friend (and they must be either kin or as close as kin to Fridgar) direct eye contract will always begin to infuriate the mage. He will begin to see it as a challenge. Fridgar can choose to break eye contact or force himself away when it is happening, but if he does not he will be compelled to exert his force and dominance over anyone who dares to hold eye contract. In addition, if eye contact is not broken, long enough for Fridgar to interpret it as a challenge, he will gain an innate sense of the opponent's 'danger'. Expert and master level offensive skills, while not directly known to Fridgar, will register as an opponent of some danger, allowing Fridgar to temper his approaches in combat.

Three Sheets to the Wind (Minor): The Favored is blessed with an increase to their physical capabilities depending on their stage of intoxication. When the Favored has had little to nothing to drink, their reaction speed is increased greatly, allowing them to react at speeds nearly impossible to keep up with, making it hard for them to be hit - though arrows and bolts still travel too quickly for them to stop. The more the Favored imbibes, the more they trade speed for strength until all reaction speed is lost and replaced with strength, allowing them to hit with greater force. Able to generate enough force to splinter wood and dent metal.

[Aeon]

As he got closer, the young swordsman realised just how big the lothar in question was. He knew how big the Scython-Ur were in comparison to humans, or at least, to normal lotharro, but this guy was even bigger than that. He was reaching the borders of natural size and reaching into inhuman territory, obviously, there was more going on than what could be seen on the surface. Aeon had indeed heard of a magic that helped hone a person's physical attributes to near perfection, maybe that was it?

In any case, even a lothar that big wasn't a match for a monster of that danger level, especially not without a weapon. That was why Aeon had decided to steer away from the forest, after all, since it would take at least three heavily armed and skilled jegers to put down the mighty beast. And yet it wasn't so. Somehow, the lothar was holding his own, literally, holding, the beast's fangs that is. It was astounding, impossible, incredible, and yet it was happening right before the boy's eye. He was now certain that there was some magic at play, he just had no idea what it was. Wasn't magic supposed to be awfully visible?

No time, he thought before drawing another arrow and getting ready to release. But that was when they both started spinning, or moving, or whatever that dance of man and beast was. Aeon was good with a bow, but he wasn't good enough to warrant he wouldn't hit the lothar with his arrow. But there was no way he could get there in time to stop the beast from ripping him apart, was there? An arrow to weaken the thing was his only option, and so he aimed.

He breathed, like Ryqos taught him to, trill, two three, and exhale, and again, and again, and release. The arrow flew through the air cutting its way towards its target like there was no tomorrow. The new bow he had gotten was an incredibly powerful thing, if only it was able to give him certain hits each time he fired. Aeon could see the man and the beast fighting for the high ground, and before the arrow hit, they were both in its path several times.

And for all the horrible bad lucks he had, the Seven finally decided to smile upon Aeon and grant him one of his wishes, as the arrow barely nicked the lothar's hip and landed in the monster's back leg, stopping it from moving any further and giving the lothar man an edge for at least a couple moments. Yet another arrow found its way past the lothar, this time not even touching him, and straight into the animal's body. While it surely wouldn't be enough to kill it, Aeon had hopes that it would at least slow it down enough for the horribly big and strong man to win the brawl.

[Varthakh]

Fridgar struggled with the beast, the beast struggled with Fridgar. Neither of them could find good footing on this part of the hill, one would have surely killed the other by now if they could. Fridgar had tried to simply rip the beast's massive fangs from its head, but they felt as though they were part of the skull itself, it would be easier to rip the beast's head off, which was easier said than done. The two danced around one another in a frantic effort to pull or push the other to the floor. One trill, Fridgar had the high ground and forced his weight down on the beast, exercising caution, the next few trills had the beast on the high ground, trying it's hardest to leap and claw at Fridgar's face. Seldom did he let it.

The beast had tried many times to claw his wrists, but Fridgar would jerk the creature's body violently whenever it let a paw off the ground. On a few occasions, he'd nearly managed to topple the beast, but it's reflexes were too fast. They were truly matched for strength, and neither of theme seemed to be getting tired.

When the second arrow was loosed, the beast immediately noticed and tried to pull Fridgar into the line of fire, use him as a meat shield. Her plan only half worked; as she pulled, the arrow managed to cut it's way across the surface of his skin before landing in her front leg. The beast roared like a wildcat possessed, clearly in pain or enraged. Fridgar looked to the arrow and found that little more than the tip had pierced the creature's thick hide. His eyes darted to his right to see the archer readying another shot. Fridgar turned himself into the direct line of fire of the archer and fell onto his back as the arrow loosed.

Immediately, the beast rushed forward and swooped for the jugular, only to have the arrow break through the roof of its mouth and pierce its tongue. The beast wailed a blood-curdling cry when it realised that it could no longer shut its jaw, the pain set in along with the horror of what had happened. Too many times had Fridgar heard the ghastly cry of dying animals, he almost didn't notice. the creature's kill-shot had been interrupted, thank Ilaren. Though he lay below the massive beast.

In a single swing of his fist, a thunderous impact would echo far enough for even the archer to hear; A muffled sound of bone-shattering proportions, muffled by flesh. The creature tried to roar, begging for help or something of the like, but Fridgar had pierced its lungs with its own shattered ribs. Desperate, dry screeches left the maw of the dying beast as it stumbled off the top of the Lothar. And made its way down the hill with one paw raised.

She needed to escape, get far away from here and get back home to her cubs. She hadn't thought that the Lothar had back up, she should have run when she caught the first arrow. So much regret filled her broken form, even as the loose earth broke away beneath her and sent her tumbling down the rest of the hill. She lay there for a few trills, trying to re-gather her strength, but the skid of feet coming to a halt behind her kicked her broken form back into gear. She couldn't stand, so she dragged her body away, to the best of her ability.

Heavy footsteps approached from behind, stirring panic within the dying beast. She wasn't ready, she couldn't die yet. Her cubs needed her. Something touched her, running through her thick fur softly. It sort-of felt like another Scython, grooming her. The stroke came again and somehow, she knew, she was safe. Darkness followed, ending the creature's life.

Fridgar had indeed slid down the hill after the beast. He quietly drew his dagger as he landed. The beast crawled away, a frantic final effort to get away from him. Saddened, Fridgar approached and knelt at her side, he ran his hand through the fur along her back, an effort to calm her. When it seemed to work, he did it a second time, allowing some comfort in her last few moments before driving the masterwork dagger through the back of her head.

Fridgar stood and looked to the archer. A wave would herald his approach while the other hand wiped the blood into his trousers and sheathed the knife. Fridgar would squat low and put his arms underneath the creature before rolling it into his arms, arrows and all. he would close his eyes and look through his mind's eye for a pocket of ether close to the silhouette. It was pretty bright now, so the archer would be able to see him in detail, he would also see the sudden rip through space that appeared to his left, distorted and gash-like. The giant stepped through, carrying the beast in his arms. he looked to the chasing portal and closed it with a nod.

"Datrav rogt Haltunga der," he attempted to apologise for his poor Haltunga, "Tanka, fud coed sa bann." Fridgar looked to the human curiously before widening his eyes in realisation "Oh!" he spoke with a Rynmere accent, "I didn't realise you were human! Do you speak common?" he laid the giant Scython on the ground. Somehow, the beast looked impossible to lift for most people, but the Lothar carried it with ease, he even managed proper sentences and magic while holding it. gently, he pulled the arrows free of the corpse and handed them to the unknown Human.

"Thanks for your help, I might have been screwed for a trill there." he explained. "The name's Fridgar. Your name?" He asked with a turn of his massive paw. He avoided eye contact with the new person, it would be a shame if his spark forced him into combat with someone that had just helped him. Aeon would see the Lothar for what he really was, a towering beast with rippling muscle, covered in scars with surprisingly-well-kept hair.

[Aeon]

The beast roared like a true champion, and its final cries could be heard across the entire forest, and the hill, Aeon was sure of it. But what was even more impressive was the sound of the punch that came from the lothar. There was magic involved, he was sure of it, he just had no idea what kind of magic made your punches sound so...thunderous. Perhaps it was a new one, and this lothar was an inventor...of magic?

The creature tried to escape, it really did, tried to get back to its cubs, to its life, but the lothar couldn't allow it. One life of a scython-ur for how many lotharen or human lives? Was it worth it, in the end? When one looked at it from another perspective, all the monster was trying to do was be a good parent, feed its children, and now they would all die. Or would they? Could three baby scython hunt down a human? Perhaps one that was as unaware as this lothar, if they were at least somewhat older.

Regardless, the man that was also a beast got to it quickly and ended it just as fast, putting a blade into its head. Soon afterwards, the man waved towards Aeon, suggesting that he would come, and that the boy needn't move. Only trills later, yet another miracle happened and the lothar was mere meters away from the boy, who was now breathing in and out like crazy, not knowing quite what happened.

Oh great, Aeon thought as he realised he was going to have to deal with a half-witted, only Haltunga-speaking, scython-killing giant mage. It was just never his trial, was it? Half-witted, of course, meaning not capable of realising he is being followed, even when the follower is only a couple feet away. No offence was meant by the boy's thoughts whatsoever, especially not after he saw what kind of punch the giant packed. If he was being honest with himself, Aeon was terrified of what the man could do. Punching something with that strength, wrestling a scython-ur, teleporting around, was there any limit to his capabilities? Surely anyone with that much power must have been corrupted.

He simply nodded in response to the first question, not having enough courage to speak up just yet. At least he spoke common, Aeon thought as he considered what to do. For just a moment, something on the inside told him to run, to run as fast and as far as he could away from the cat-punching, monster-wrestling giant mage and to never look back, but he realised it would be futile even if there was need. He could just teleport to Aeon within a trill and the chase would be over. So the boy decided to man up and speak.

"Aeon, I'm Aeon. You were holding your own just fine out there, from what I could see. How did you do that?" He asked with genuine curiosity in his eye as he hung his bow over his shoulder where it stood beforehand, after putting the arrows back into his quiver. As soon as the boy decided to look, he saw the impossible amount of scars all across the lothar's body, they reminded him of his own ones, of course, the lothar had nowhere near the amount of scars Aeon had, but still, they did remind him.

"Was it magic?"

[Varthakh]

Fridgar looked down at the human, but avoided eye contact still. "Nice to meet you, Aeon. And... Do what?" he asked, apparently oblivious. "Oh, punch a big-ass lion? Easy, it just takes some guts," it took him a few trills of thinking about what an arbitrary question the boy had asked before realising that he'd meant his strength rather than the form. "Oh, right," the Lothar rolled up his sleeve to his elbow before his leather jacket got stuck, refusing to widen to make way for the massive appendage. He contemplated forcing it, but decided not to in the end. Trying again, Fridgar removed his jacket to raise his arm to shoulder height.

In one contraction of the muscle, his arm grew enough in width to block out the rising suns. To lay eyes on a bicep as large as his was almost frightening, it was an inhuman amount of mass, on verge on disproportionate. "Train hard and eat loads, you'll be as big as me some trial," he spoke a lie, no human could achieve Lotharro-level strength, it wasn't in their genes. His first awakening had granted him an extra fifty pounds of mass and four inches in height, few Lothar could even reach his level of muscle mass, only mages who happen to mutate like him.

The giant would raise his eyebrows at the boy, almost as if to imply that he hadn't just used magic to arrive at his side. "No, well, sorta. I used magic to speed up how fast I see things, which let me grab its attacks in time and stuff," Fridgar explained with a turn of his paw, that was the easiest way he could explain Palenon. "I am a mage though, as are most Lotharro..." He utilised elemental manipulation to channel a ball of lightning in his paw, a show of force. The lightning crackled and glowed with energy, jumping between digits.

They boy had asked for it, now was the time to show off. He would close his eyes after letting the lightning dissipate and focused his energy on the ether next to the boy, utilising chasing, he would pull himself to the ether in the form of a blink, disappearing from existence before appearing behind the boy. A tap on the shoulder from behind would alert him of Fridgar's presence. Too many times had Fridgar blinked behind someone only to break their skull from behind, it was useful when combined with Palenon.

When the boy looked at him at last, he utilised adapt to turn all his skin into the armour plates of the king crocodile, the transformation was fast, spanning a couple of trills. The plates would fold over his actual skin, as if peeling from beneath, starting at the head and working their way down. "I can also smell for miles around, watch," Fridgar utilised echo for the Redbear's sense of smell and took in the boy's scent. Trills after his inhale, he would point to the boy's course and speak "You came this way, stayed out of the forest... Slept in the wild? A tent? I can’t tell much from before that though," the scent faded after his previous lingering.

"Not convinced, huh?" Fridgar looked to the boy's face, he was perhaps... sceptical? "Alright, alright. Let me try something else, let's smell if there are any more giant fang-cats in the area," he approached the lion and knelt beside it. Lifting its bloodied head, he took a sniff of the creature's primal, wild scent. He held for a trill before standing up and looking about in all directions, as if searching for something. "Over there," he pointed to a distinct direction in the woods, "There's five of the giant cats in that direction... No wait..." he sniffed the air some more, closing his eyes with focus. "Three, three of them giant cats." Fridgar nodded, satisfied.

"Don't you believe me?" He asked, half irritated. Fridgar had got it in his head that the boy had challenged his abilities, claiming him to be stupid. Even though that was just speculation, he couldn't shake the feeling of being looked down on. "Fine, let's go over there and I'll show you the giant cats. Are you in or are you chicken?" he eyed the younger male before squatting to lift the dead Scython and throwing it over his own shoulders. It was heavy as fuck, but he wouldn't show weakness in front of someone he was trying to impress.

He'd spammed three or four minor abilities, barely costly of much ether. Chasing twice with an echo and an adapt, all were very minor abilities. Having decided that he could get away with it, Fridgar used Totem Guardian and tossed a small figurine on the floor, it appeared to be a bear doll, wrapped completely in red fur. Around the figurine grew a skeleton, building into a massive, hulking beast. Organs filled the skeletal cavities, appearing from the air before muscles wrapped itself around the frame. Finally, thick, furry hide snaked its way along the form of the unfinished beast.

When all was complete, a massive bear of red fur and impossible height and length stood. "Willow Redbears are usually a lot smaller than this, but a corruption of mine makes all my transformations bigger and stronger," the beast was sixteen and a half feet long and eight feet tall while on all fours. Suffice to say, it was massive. Fridgar reached up and pushed the corpse of the Scython over its shoulders before leaping at the fuzzy wall of muscle and fat and easing himself up. His hand stretched down to the boy, offering a hand up the grizzly bear.

Somehow, Fridgar expected the twenty-arc-old human to find all this normal, as though he'd lived in Gauthrel for a long time.

► Show Spoiler

Elemental Manipulation - Lightning (Minor): The character is able to control a small amount of lightning in relatively close proximity to themselves. Limited to a single bolt of lightning that can travel 20 feet before dissipating. Capable of throwing one lightning bolt every bit. If the bolt hits, it can cause shocking pains and numbness to any struck body part. Alcohol intoxication diminishes the power of this ability. Echo: A Novice technique that is a shadow of what eventually becomes Evolve, Echo borrows senses and minor special abilities from a totem and overlays them with your natural form. The changes are always subtle and temporary, such as seeing in the dark, leaping with the grace of a gazelle, or tuning into the echolocation of a bat. One trait may be echoed at novice, with two at competence. At expertise, three traits and four at Mastery and Legendary. Although these traits are fairly easy to manifest, costing little ether Adapt: Adaption can only be gained in mastery. Adapt breaks the rule of the 'all or nothing' aspect of Becoming. Adaption works like Borrowing but can be induced after a form has been taken. It's a far less strenuous technique as it does not require a full body transformation and was developed for combat and utility. These transformations are always just as fast as unleashing transformations and only affect the totem shape for as long as the Becomer is in it. These transformations disappear when the mage takes the shape again. Adapted traits are the same as borrowed traits, save for the fact they can be added after a transformation rather than requiring an entire new one. One can only have as many adapted traits as they have Borrowed traits. Chasing: The manipulation of pockets to transport an individual or multiple others short distances, can be cast relatively quickly at all stages, especially at higher mastery. Chasing has within it two different functions to start with: blinking and portal creation. Blinking allows a mage to quickly latch onto or tether themselves to a pocket of Ether within sight and proper range. They will thus almost immediately transport themselves there, disappearing from their previous location and often in a flash of energy.

Portal Creation is of course what Rupturing is known for; it is the loud and disruptive tearing of matter via pockets of energy that allows for one to accomplish blinking but in a more complex fashion. While blinking is a quick, one-shot sort of endeavor, portals have within them many complexities. Portals can stay open longer, can transport specific individuals as well as objects and spells, and can even have magical effects associated with their location. Portals will develop as the user develops their magic, and gain a variety of new and unforeseen uses as one learns and grows in Rupturing. Chasing and the portals it creates also acts as a basis for much of what compression enables the Rupturer to achieve. Chasing portals, particularly, are considered the lighter combat portals. They are utilized far more commonly than Compression portals in a combat scenario, faster to open and cheaper to utilize, though usually with a reduced range. Appearance-wise, they appear more distorted than Compression portals, appearing almost like an ungainly gash in the world waiting desperately to be closed.

As a note, there is no standard or basic appearance for portals. Their appearance depends on how the spark manifested in the mage when the magic first made contact with them, though their general size and dimensions tend to be about the same.

[Aeon]

Easy, it just takes some guts, more like, a metric ton of guts, but Aeon wasn't talking about that, and just as he was going to say it, the lothar appeared to had noticed. That was good, considering Aeon was still relatively short on words due to all that he'd witnessed. He knew there were lots of mages among the lotharro, but he never knew just what magic entailed.

At first, the boy thought he was being messed around with, but with further consideration, he could confirm it. He knew he was being messed around with. The lothar really thought it funny to suggest eating well and training hard could get someone to that extraordinary level of strength and size? No wonder he was walking around all alone, which band of hunters would want someone like him with them? Then again, was he a hunter? He was a mage and he was terribly strong, but he didn't seem the type. He was just...irresponsible, at first look.

And not only on the first look, Aeon thought as he turned around to witness yet another bit of showing off from the lothar. The boy was getting pretty tired of witnessing him do impossible things he had never seen or heard of in Rynmere, and sooner or later, the courage to say something would come, and when it did, he would have lots to say. Could you teach me? he thought about saying for a moment, but the thought quickly disappeared. He was still Aeon, and he still knew what magic did to people. It was only a matter of time before he saw what it did to this man.

Sceptical, yes, the boy was sceptical, but not of the man's abilities. It was obvious he could do extraordinary things with the help of whatever magic he was using, there was no need to be sceptical about that. What he was sceptical about was that the man was all he said he was. Sure, he appeared good-natured, perhaps a bit slow but still nice, and powerful, and strong, but he had to have been corrupted in some way or the other by the magic he was using so repeatedly. Where was the corruption, and why wasn't it showing? Or were all the stories Aeon had heard of how one's soul goes missing and one's heart grows black from using magic not true. Was everything a lie? Everything his father told him, everything that others told him, that the school told him? Or was this man just good at hiding it?

"I know, there are three cub-" He started speaking, but obviously not loud enough as the lothar continued with his talk after apparently smelling the cubs Aeon knew were there. At this point, the boy wasn't even surprised when the giant bear appeared from apparently nowhere ready to take them both to their destination. The young swordsman simply took the man's hand and climbed on to the surpsingly soft yet sturdy furry back of the creature.

"Look, I already know there are three of the scython there, they're her cubs, or were." He said with a touch of sadness in his voice. "What I'm wondering is how do you keep doing these things? What kind of magic is it? " And how has it corrupted you beyond the surface, if you don't mind me asking

[Varthakh]

The moment Fridgar felt the smaller male's hand take hold of his scaled palm, he pulled and lifted his weight with relative ease. Some shuffling landed the younger male atop the giga-bear a couple of feet in front of Fridgar. The beast would look back to its creator for approval before he nodded a command. The beast set off, lumbering down the hill with a surprising level of control. The Lothar would idly rub the bears hide and brush his fur while the two passengers spoke.

"Doing what things?" Fridgar asked, mildly annoyed. A groan would see him hunch over, resting on the strain of his shoulders while he held himself up; he looked about done with vague questions. "You mean magic? I was initiated, twice," he explained. Not one part of him expected the boy to know anything about initiation, only he wanted to get a feel for how much the boy knew. "Initiation is when a mage grants another person, mage or not, a spark. The spark is sorta like your heart, but in energy form. It isn't touchable," The bear reached the bottom of the hill.

"If you were listening, you'd hear that I said I had been initiated twice. This means I can command two forms of magic; Becoming and Rupturing, to be specific." the bear continued on the course to their destination, Fridgar pet the beast to show his appreciation in the physical. "Becoming was my first magic, it let's me become an animal of my choosing with the aid of a totem made of different parts of the beast. Rupturing let's me rip open the fabric of space and close long distances into trills of travel, its useul," though rupturing wasn't nearly his strong point, he was still competent enough at it.

His expression took a serious turn as he thought of what came next, then he spoke, "Magic has limits though, using too many spells or holding the same spell for too long can drain your ether, your spark. If you keep pushing past the use of all your ether, you'll overstep." He explained, though his tone was deep and dire. Overstepping was no laughing matter, he understood that now. "That's where things get weird. If you overstep a little, you might get headaches so bad that you'd rather do yourself in than suffer them for even a trill longer, for example. If you overstep a lot, you could die or get corrupted..." Fridgar couldn't help but pass a glance down at himself with the last part of his sentence.

He, for one, had suffered more than his fair share of mutations. What was he like before magic changed him? He couldn't remember. "Corruptions suck. I've had a few for growing stronger and overstepping alike, as a result, I get the overwhelming urge to kill whatever looks me in the eyes." He spoke at half volume, almost confessing. "It doesn't help that my eyes were corrupted, first to resemble ursine eyes then one of them to look like space." He continued the explanation of his vicious cycle. "I used to be four inches shorter, too, and I wasn't always this massive." The Lothar reached behind his head, combing his hair with his claws.

He had more, but decided he'd hogged the conversation for long enough. "So what about you then? What's a human that doesn't speak haltunga doing out in the fields of Gauthrel at this break in the morning?" He looked the male over, but avoided his eyes for reasons explained. "Also, your accent... kinda sounds familiar?" He pondered it's origin before widening his eyes in realisation. "You wouldn't have been in Rynmere recently, would you?" Fridgar seemed on edge suddenly. He didn't have the ether to defend himself if this boy had come for his bounty, but he was wearing armoured skin and Palenon was always free, that and they rode one of his most loyal totems.

[Aeon]

The boy was clueless, but not brainless, he could figure out what an initiation was. It was obviously some form of gaining magical abilities, and it was obviously a rare thing, since mages in Idalos were a rare thing. So it had to have some limitations, the boy thought as he looked at the back of the giant lothar. A spark, however, was something Aeon had no idea about. So, by intiating someone into a magic, you would give them a second, magical heart? He assumed all magic would come from that heart. But if it wasn't touchable, then magic in a man was indestructable. Once a mage, forever a mage, huh.

But it was only going to get more interesting from there. A mage could, apparently, command multiple, or even limitless amounts of magics, he just needed to be initiated into them by someone. "Who initiated you?" Aeon asked, letting curiosity take his tongue as they moved through the forest and cleared bushes and branches out of their way with no trouble. The giant bear, how did he explain that? Ripping open the fabric of space, as cool and crazy as it sounded, shouldn't let you summon a giant bear that follows your commands, and neither should transforming into animals using totems. Out of the two, the boy had to admit he found rupturing crazier, but who knew, maybe there was more to becoming than just what the man had said?

Limits, out of all the words the man said, Aeon was hoping to hear that one the most. So, what were the limits to magic? The man didn't say, apparently, saying what would happen when one crosses those lines was more important to him, and Aeon could understand that. He had probably overstepped a couple of times himself, considering the deeper and more serious tone he was speaking in now.

As the lothar spoke of corruption though, there was only one question on Aeon's mind. He listened, however, and decided not to speak up, considering who knew what other things triggered the man's urge to kill too. Perhaps tiny humans that asked silly questions were one of them. That's it? He asked himself now, as he turned his gaze away from the lothar and towards the forest, in the direction where the cubs would be, according to the lothar's superior sense of smell. For your soul being corrupted, it didn't seem half as scary as in stories. He just got an urge to kill whoever looked him in the eyes, alright, and his eyes changed colours, alright. But where was the monster? The abomination he was supposed to turn into if he got careless with magic? Where were the wings, the tail, the four mouths? Magic was just as powerful as in the stories, why wasn't it just as dangerous?

"I'm trying to learn." Aeon said with a huff as the lothar noted he didn't speak Haltunga. But that was also the answer to the other question. He was trying to learn to get stronger, and the more the giant bear walked across the dirt-filled ground of the forest, the more Aeon considered that one sentence that he was both scared of and wished for. Could you teach me? From the lothar's words, magic certainly wasn't soul-corrupting, not in any similar way to what Aeon was afraid of, and it had made the lothar at least ten times more powerful than any non-mage Aeon had seen. And if this lothar was that powerful, how powerful could he, that was actually trying, become?

"Rynmere?" He asked suddenly, his train of thoughts interrupted by the mention of his homeland. Now that he thought about it, the man's accent sounded like a Rynmerian one. "It used to be home, I left it in early Zi'da though. Have you been there recently?" He asked, homesick all of a sudden. He wanted to know whether anything had changed since he left, and considering this lothar could teleport at will, who knew, maybe he was there just a trial ago? Or maybe rupturing didn't work that way.

"Hey, Fridgar. I have to ask. What other magics are there? I've never had the chance to learn the truth about magic, so thank you." The boy finished with a small smile on his scarred face as they neared the scython's home. They would be there any trill, Aeon knew it.