4th trial, Saun 719
Four trials North of Rhakros
22nd break
Four trials North of Rhakros
22nd break
Continued from here
It was more than hunger. More than that aching rumbling in your guts. More even than the cramps and pains that stabbed at you in the night. This gnawed and clawed at his very bones while he slept. This whispered in his ear and pulled at his soul while he marched and talked and cast and, yes, ate. Because no sustenance was enough for him; mere corporeal matter crudely digested was nothing but grey, formless mush. Trials ground on and Dravar became more feverish, more twitchy, irritable, angry. Prone to... incidents.
Still another trial before "rations" would be provided. He didn't know if he could last that long.
There was a buzzing by his ear. He swatted at it, seeking to chase away another annoying insect-
-only to see his Highmark standing there instead. Stepping quickly away from the hunched over mage, face a mask of granite but his eyes... he could hide the fear in his eyes.
They were all afraid of him. All because they didn't know, didn't understand, what this hunger felt like. What it could make a man do to slake it, just for a few trials. They were monkey, apes, primitives compared to him. He, of a moneyed and prosperous house, reduced to slogging through the dust and dirt with backwards gutter scum like this. But his city demanded it of him; her and the countless dead.
Dravar was many unpleasant things, but he loved his city. Any insult to her was one to him and his kin. So he marched. He swallowed the indignity. He managed his hunger as best he could.
But he felt no need to be nice about it.
"What is it?"
"S-Someone t'see you, trooper," the man said, nodding stiffly to the short, slight figure standing at the edge of their part of the clearing. "He said he had an... offer for you."
The scowling young man swept back his dark hair and rose unsteadily. As he wobbled, a titter erupted. His head swung about like an enraged hawk, trying to pinpoint the noise. No eyes met his. The noise vanished. Everyone was eating, gaming, talking, drinking, cleaning clothes and bodies... but no laughter. Dravar cursed and turned his gaze back to his (supposed) superior.
"Fine."
He stalked over and got his visitor's measure in the space it took to close the distance. Small and ragged. Hairy and dirty. Stooped in posture and barely able to meet his gaze when he stopped. Dravar looked the plebian up and down and growled, "Yes? What is it?"
"Wondered if yeh might aid a fellow mage, ser. Lookin' t', y'know, practice, 'fore the siege."
Dravar blinked slowly. The pangs of hunger actually subsided for a moment. Then he threw back his head and laughed. Long and loud and rabid, like a demented jackal. "You? Why would I waste my time, helping you? Wasting my precious ether on you?"
"I-I can pay, ser-"
"I don't care for your coin, man. I have my own and don't need dirty coppers cluttering up my gold. Off with you. Tell-"
"W-Well, ser, if yer afraid-"
"What was that?"
The air got frigid, then slid to arctic when Dravar turned back around to face his visitor. He'd been turning away when he last spoke, but now thoughts of leaving had vanished. Hissing, spitting fury was writ large across his features now. Spewing from his eyes and contorting all the rest of him. The visitor seemed to quail under the look, looking this way and that.
"I, I mean, um, I have, well, I've hurt people, an' if yer afraid of my magic-"
"I fear no magic!" The roar woke sleeping birds and drowsy men alike. The little man seemed to shudder as Dravar towered over him. "You hear me?! None! I am Dravar of House Feore! I am master of magic!"
He bore his teeth as he raised both hands. At once, fire bloomed from above his palms, growing from sparks to flickers to balls of shimmering flame. At unspoken commands, the two joined together before him, held but not held by his hands on either side. As he stared down at the little man, his features looked almost demonic; gaunt and stretched and pallid and hungry, so hungry!
"I-I'm sorry, ser, I'll leave yeh be-"
"No! No... I think not." His hands closed and the fire vanished. Dravar flexed his fingers and felt the drain on his Spark yet more acutely. But he had enough in him. Just enough to teach this trash his place. And, if by some tragedy he shoulder... accidentally wound the man in a mortal fashion? Well... shame to let good Spark go to waste. "Step over this way. Apart from these... gawkers. I shall test you, gutter runner. I will educate you."
Kasoria of Etzos managed a shaky smile, and fought quite hard to stop it becoming a grin.
"V-Very kind a' youse, ser..."