• Mature • Where Things Are and Are Not

[Kasoria]

15th trial of Cylus, 720

He was in his dreams, although it was hard to think of this place as such anymore.

Dreams for him had always been intangible, ineffable, unknowable domains. Places of whimsy and mystery. You couldn't hold onto them, any more than you could remember them past those first handful of sleepy moments when you woke. He'd heard of folk that could walk in their dreams. Control them. Act in them as easily as they could in the waking world. He'd cooed at such things as a boy, scoffed at them as a man. It seemed just... too unbelievable.

Now he didn't need to believe. Now he was sitting cross-legged on the roof of a tower that stretched up into the sky, stabbing up from the grasslands into the guts of clouds. The top of it was flat and stone and dry. He could feel every dram of moisture in the air, though. Every shift of his skin against the fabric of his breeches. In his hands were weapons. Real weapons. Carried by his true and born hands while he Crossed into the Ocean.

Branding. Crossing. Escorting. Unbelievable, is it?

Kasoria snorted softly, and something growled in front of him. He opened his eyes... and the monster stood waiting.

It was of his own fabrication. A hulking amalgamation of wild wolf and human gladiator and mutant atrocity. Teeth like daggers, talons like scythes. Red eyes that seemed to drip malice into a mouth forever rippling at the lips in fury. The little man got to his feet in slow, economical movements. The beast glared at him, snorting out streams of fog into the air. Kasoria faced it with gladius and ax in hand... and finally nodded.

It was not a gesture of acceptance; it was a command. This thing was every bit his creation as the tower and the grass and the stone and the sky. This was his dream, and he owned it, more than he owned his lungs and heart and soul. For here, he could make what he wished of that which he owned; in the Waking, he was bound by physics and logic and... laws.

Not here. So why not have some fun with it?

The monster hurled itself at the Raggedy Man, nude save for his breeches and his weapons. Kasoria darted to the side as he lunged to meet the threat, gladius in his left deflecting the raking claws and his ax-

SHHHUKKKK

-gouging a brutal tear into the creature's flank. Painting it's stark white fur crimson, thick and solid and dark where it bit deep, spattering and spotty where it simply sprayed from the wound. The beast stopped and turned, one hand touching the wound... and growling at the injury. Then it glared over its hand, seeing the little man where it had been a moment before, and vice versa.

Kasoria smiled. Eyes only for the battle, the duel, the brawl, the rush and the contest. Not even noticing they weren't alone on that rooftop until they'd sprung back towards each other in a crash of claw and fang and blade.

[Kasoria]

He was stronger than he'd been before. Strange that he should realize this only in his dreams, but he was always careful to have fantasy mirror reality when it came to such... sessions. Transforming himself into an indestructible engine of slaughter - faster, stronger, better in every way than his opponents - would not train him at all. It would breed complacency and, thus, eventual ruin. No-no-no... what he could do in the real world, was what he could do here, and nothing more.

Means it'll fucking hurt if you don't kill this sod properly.

Kasoria grunted instead of laughing; no time for that. The wolfman came at him on all fours, keeping low, under the swinging blades of those weapons, forcing Kasoria to lower his own center of gravity. Clever. It was still a nice surprise to learn he was capable of injecting such... creativity, into things that were, at the end of the trial, glorified sparring dummies.

Then the beast pounced, and Kasoria sidestepped just a hair too slow-

-slashing his gladius across the creature's thigh as it passed him, as intended-

-but earning a swipe from a flying paw, raking across his chest like four daggers lashed together, definitely not as intended-

-and proved to him that was not entirely the case.

The dreamer yelped as he turned and staggered away. He felt the blood dribble up out of him. He felt the hiss and sting of the wound, not just the passage of fluid from the gashes. He felt the pain... only it was not his body. Now he didn't regret his decision to leave his body in his bed. He'd thought it a conceit, a half-measure... even an act of cowardice. But he'd survived much at the end of the last year, and more than a little at the beginning of this one. Assassination, flight, conspiracy, escape, then siege and battle... all of this, but he had yet to see his son. Yet to return to the only family he had left.

Let me do that first, he'd told himself on the road West. Then you can think about taking risks.

The low, hungry growling snapped him out of the memory. The wolfman wasn't about to let him get his breath back. Just like he wouldn't. Another reason he liked these Emea sparring sessions: it gave him the chance to know what to expect from a properly dirty fucking bastard in a fight. Namely, himself.

"C'mon then, yeh cunt yeh-"

The wolfman barked and did just that, coming in fast from the side, keeping Kasoria moving, trying to outflank him with sheer speed-

Let him try, let him think he's at your back.

-then hurling himself at the Raggedy Man's exposed back as Kasoria slowed himself to allow the weakness, giving the wolfman the opening-

Now.

SHUNK

The ax came whipping around as Kasoria's counterfeit died. He pivoted hard, swinging the weapon up towards the slavering creature that came leaping for him, arms outstretched, maw wide and snapping. Face set and grim, Kasoria ignored the horror, beat back the fear. Not because it was a dream, and he knew he could survive it; but because when the time came, it would keep his arm strong and his aim true. Which was exactly what it needed to be when-

-the bearded ax slammed into the wolfman's rib-cage, shattering, crushing, breaking, piercing-

-howl becoming a wail of agony, but-

"Shit-"

Kasoria barely had time to utterly the word before the rest of the beast smashed into him anyway. Physics and momentum were not enemies one could bat aside with steel and iron, after all. Human and monster went flying off their feet, rolling towards the edge of the high arena.

[Kasoria]

They said you couldn't argue with gravity, and they were right. What's more, when it was backed up by three hundred pounds of maddened muscle and fur, you couldn't just shrug your shoulders and chuckle at the adage, either. You had to react, even when you knew whatever you did, it was going to fucking hurt.

Like Kasoria throwing up his gladius, wrong angle, wrong use, everything wrong, just wanting to put up a barrier-

-between his face and throat and the snapping, dripping maw in front of him-

CRACK

Man and monster fell to the ground, latter trapping the former under its bulk. Kasoria tried to swing to the side as they fell, but sheer speed and weight was against him. He yelped as his back slammed into the stone, then swallowed another such sound when hundreds of pounds crushed him against it. He forced the pain away, forced his mind from the useless panic of constriction. He focused on his arm. Not his right, still gripping the ax buried in the wolfman's chest.

No. The one holding the gladius. Blade held up in front of his face, wolfman's jaws snapping and biting and chewing on the fucking thing, trying to get around it so it could rip out his throat or skin his face where he lay. Kasoria's arm screamed in protest as physics brutalized him again. The sheer weight, the force, the animal fury... it was all he could do to keep the gladius in front of him, until he started to weaken, started to-

Fuck this.

-let go of the ax, leaving it stuck in the wolfman's side, and snapped his arm up to the top third of the blade. He ground his teeth in pain as he gripped the sword, feeling it bite into the flesh of his fingers and palm. But now he had it secured top and bottom, able to keep the metal inside the wolfman's mouth-

Not for long. You have to break this deadlock before he does.

So he did. The thing would adapt quickly, just like he would. So he had to adapt faster. In the space of a breath, he had his plan, and with the last of his strength straightened his arms and pushed the wolfman above him up, giving himself a precious half-yard and a half-trill-

-to shift the gladius to the side, maw of the wolfman no longer biting the center of it. It lunged down, roaring so hard he felt the hot, fetid wind blast into his face but even here, here in this 'scape he controlled and with this figure watching-

Watching? Who-

Not now!

Kasoria roared right back and with one weak hand on the hilt and the other bleeding and gripping the blade, he thrust the gladius up into that mouth. Thrust and kept pushing as it came down over his forearm. Now physics was his ally. The gladius punched through the roof of the wolfman's mouth and into its brain. Kasoria felt the blade quiver as hard bone gave way to juicy, quivering brain matter. He saw one raging yellow eye widen in shock, the first glimmer of fear he'd seen in the beast... and then with a muted crunch, he felt the gladius pierce the top of the skull.

The jaws loosened. The body slackened. The yellow eye became just a glazed ball of jelly inside a dead skull. Kasoria grunted anew as three hundred pounds of dead-weight settled atop him. Cursing and spitting every inch of the way, he wriggled and pushed himself out from under it. The breeze stank of iron and copper now, bloody fragrances carried by the wind. He stood and felt the cold and the pain and the ache in his muscles. The weariness in his bones as he yanked the ax free. The beast was dead the moment he buried that thing in its chest, but it had enough rage and hate left for one final attempt to end him. It would have happily died moments later, if he'd taken Kasoria with it.

Not surprising. So would you.

The figure turned away from him. Shorter than the Raggedy Man, but not by much. He looked over, fearing he would see horror or disgust in those eyes. He knew who it was. More and more the boy had visited his dreams of late. He knew not if his own son had been initiated into Dreamwalking... or, more likely, his unconscious mind was conjuring him. His guilt and longing was working behind the veil of his "control", reminding him where he was going, what he had waiting for him.

"M... Martyn?"

The figure turned to him, but vanished before he could see him. A gust of wind, a blast of cold that stung his eyes and hissed against the bloody wound on his chest, and they were gone.

[Doran]

Kasoria:

Knowledge:
Skill Knowledge:
Blades (Gladius): Can Be Used to Hold the Jaws of a Monster Open/Away
Blades (Gladius): Killing Blow Through the Mouth and Into the Brain
Dual Wield: Gladius x Waraxe
Dual Wield (Gladius x Waraxe): Gladius for Defense, Waraxe for Offense
Dual Wield (Gladius x Waraxe): Parry with the Sword, Counter with the Ax
Strength: Keeping a Sword Raised Despite Massive Pressure Against It

Non-Skill Knowledge:
Dreamwalking - Governing: Governed Creatures Can be As Dangerous as the Governor
The Emea: Emotions and Feelings ALWAYS Bleed into Dreamscapes

Loot: -
Wealth: -
Injuries: -
Renown: -
Magic XP: -
Skill Review: Appropriate to level.
Points: 10

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Comments: I enjoyed reading Kasoria’s thoughts about his dreams and Emea – and the description of the monster that appeared in front of him. You did a great job in regard to describing the fight. In fact, I don’t think I’ve read a single bad combat thread from you so far!

Enjoy your rewards!