Mature Watch of a Hollow Hand

20th of Cylus 721

Outside the city there are many places of interest to be explored.
User avatar
Rakvald
Approved Character
Posts: 806
Joined: Fri Aug 24, 2018 11:17 pm
Race: Immortal
Profession: Degenerate Elite
Renown: 555
Character Sheet
Character Wiki
Plot Notes
Templates
Letters
Storybook
Wealth Tier: Tier 10

Featured

Milestones

Miscellaneous

Events

Watch of a Hollow Hand






Image



20th of Cylus 721

Rakvald was seated on the cold floor of polished bamboo, his legs crossed in full lotus as he sat on one of his sleeping cushions. He attempted his daily meditation in this way, determined to get the maximum benefit from it, and taking Long’s instruction very seriously, it was said that the full lotus pose was most beneficial toward successful meditation.

To Rakvald, it seemed the most effective and uncomfortable way to put pressure on his tail-bone, but he played along for now. At least graft wasn’t without its benefits, as he could dull the pains of life at will now.

As he sat there, he heard the skittering of his little pet. Kodi, the Kudi’eltu hand crawled all around the floors of the dormitory. It was of course empty of students, or he wouldn’t have let his pet have free reign of it.

Meditation was difficult when one’s senses were split between two different points. While his own eyes were shut, the eye upon the middle finger of Kodi was slightly ajar, and watching where it went along the floor.

Yes it was distracting, and yes Rakvald wasn’t having much success at clearing his thoughts. Therefore, he willed Kodi to skitter over toward his lap, and crawl into his hands. There, Rakvald caressed him with his tentacled hand, and smiled. The construct had received its daily dose of ether, which kept it lively and energized.

As it rested in his hands, he began turning his efforts from meditation (which had more or less failed) to meddling with his little creation. The thing was somewhat heavy in his hand, and clumsy when it came to sneaking and climbing up surfaces. It needed an edge where that was concerned, he felt. So he began channelling the memory of the flesh of the Pygmy Marmoset, one of his first totems, that he’d almost come by accidentally, having stepped on one of the poor creatures so long ago in the Desnind Jungle.

He remembered the creature’s hands had some form of cilia on the surface of their fingers which facilitated scaling surfaces easily. It was this memory of flesh that he began to channel into Kodi. However, one thing must drive out another, and when it came to flesh, even corruption, something always came from and made way for something else. So as he willed the cilia to grow at the ends of Kodi’s finger-legs, he used the marrow of its bones, hollowing them out so as to make it even lighter. The marrow did as he commanded, deteriorating until it left only the barest coating on the insides of the Kudi-eltu bone. Then the cilia formed, began to take on a thorny texture, to give it a further adhesive effect.

This done, he was satisfied with his work, corrupting these new capabilities into the hand. He smiled and tucked it into the folds of his gi, where it clung to the inside of the fabric with its new ability.

That done, he began doing his daily drills, exercises, and stretches, as instructed by Master Long on his first day inside the House. He was getting quite fit within these halls!



About a break later, after breakfast, it was time to practice their martial arts. Rakvald let Kodi stretch his fingers, tossing him up onto the roof of the practice area, where he clung to the beams overhead, where Rakvald and he might watch the proceedings from another angle.

Rakvald, who’d proven competence already in the fundamentals of unarmed combat, had thus been introduced to the use of weapons. Particularly that of bladework, something that he had been lacking, even though he happened to own two very nice masterwork long-knives.

He stood squared off with another of Master Long’s pupils, holding a bamboo boken sword. It had a narrow curve to it, to simulate the edge of a blade, but was blunt. Master Long insisted on such dimensions for practice weapons, as it was important to get edge alignment right for when the warriors wielded real blades, and wouldn’t merely slap their enemies with strips of steel instead of tearing into their flesh.

The other novice, dressed in similar robes to Rakvald, free-flowing to allow free movement of the legs, but laden with furs around the shoulders to keep the chill at bay, even in this hall.

Rakvald took up the fighting posture, half taught by the masters of this place, and the other part learned from his long lives of struggling in hand to hand against beasts and men. He thought he was ready to face a stripling lad…

But he was wrong. The novice moved with the vigor of youth, rushing headlong for Rakvald. With a singular rap of his own bokken against the mage’s knuckles, the lad stripped Rakvald of his own weapon, leaving him only his strength, his limbs, and his rage with which to counter this attack.

Rakvald did return the attack, taking strike after strike against his upper arm, the middle of his shoulder, the side of his neck and cranium. The boy seemed a wonder with that bokken of his, and Rakvald’s only thought as he kept getting slapped with it was to drive it up where the sun never shone.

Rakvald tried blocking with his right arm, trying to fend off the blows, to void where he could, but the strikes kept landing on him. He felt the Inheritor, its greedy and conniving intellect urging the mage to finish this. All it would take, was a taste of his magic to reduce the lad to the agony of living death. He wouldn’t even have to hurt him…

Rakvald ignored these calls to cheat with magic, and kept on with his defense. The lad tried his left side, whacking the boneless tentacles that formed his left upper limb. Then, the lad tried for his family jewels, with one final strike of the point, aiming for that most precious of targets on Rakvald. There, he finally missed, and Rakvald caught the shaft of the bokken in his right hand.

The Inheritor flared to life within his soul, roaring with arcane might. And Rakvald felt its might surging to every one of his own hurts, hastening to heal the bruises that were already forming. As his ether reserved dried, he felt a sudden hunger overcome him. He could feed now. Although the entire school watched with bated breath as he grappled that wooden sword, the younger pupil unable to extricate it from the Becomer’s grasp, Rakvald twisted it, making it uncomfortable for the lad to maintain his hold. So the lad let go.

Rakvald regarded the sword then, bringing it to his eyes to see. It was made of a fine hard wood, fine enough to hurt when it hit. Yet he had no intention of turning the tool against its former master. He grasped it in his right and left hands, and with a swift few pulls against his knee, snapped it on the fourth attempt to break the tool.

The mage couldn’t keep the Inheritor’s glee from showing o his face as he glowered over the lad. He approached him, tossing either half of the wooden sword to either side. And with a few bounding strides, closed the distance.

The lad was skilled in Da’riya, their martial art, but not enough to challenge Rakvald’s raw strength, and adequate if unrefined skill in the martial arts.

His opponent slid to the side, ducking under a clothesline swipe of his arm. Yet Rakvald wasn’t unused to such maneuvers, having learned a thing or two from Long himself. He recovered his momentum, but paid for it with a kick received to the side of his gut.

Rakvald was patient, however. He knew the attack pattern, and doubted his opponent was clever enough to realize that. So when it came to Rakvald making the same clothesline swipe at his oppponent, and the lad ducked under, Rakvald tucked his arm, and came around with a low-kick, sweeping the legs out from under the lad.

There, he sent him to the floor. The lad wriggled like a fish on the deck of a boat, but couldn’t escape the fury of Rakvald, the fury of the Inheritor, master of Rakvald’s soul.

The large man grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, though he wriggled, and held him to the ground where he lay, leveraging his body to reduce the chances that he would kick him away, he straddled the pupil.

Then, the hunger returned. His inky left arm, the mass of tentacles and suckers and teeth, they spread wide, showing their hollow maw to the lad as he reached for his face. He would have his prize, the Inheritor would know this flesh…

But then, just as his left arm’s maw was to descend on the unlucky pupil, a sharp challenge called out to Rakvald. It was Master Long. He barely heard the master’s battle cry before he delivered a flying kick to the Becomer’s head, knocking him out cold.

Thus was the mage sent into exile from the school. He hadn’t done any lasting harm to the lad, but they recognized the lust for power in his eyes. And Master Long, in his wisdom, knew he couldn’t abide his presence any longer. The risk to his other students was too great.

Rakvald awoke later, in the cold of the outdoors. There to change back into the form of the Dubaebo, and stalk the woods for a den to sleep away the rest of the Winter.
word count: 1632

Fleshbound Tome~
Arcane Apprentice
~
Commissions Welcome!
User avatar
Avalon
Posts: 888
Joined: Tue Dec 15, 2020 8:23 pm
Race: Prophet
Profession: Bootiful Bean
Renown: 0
Templates
Point Bank Thread
Wealth Tier: Tier 1

Featured

Contribution

Staff

Events

Re: Watch of a Hollow Hand

Image

Review Rewards

Name: Rak

Points awarded: 10
Magic xp:10

Knowledge:
Graft: Corruption: Duplicate: Fine cilia on the fingers of a hand, to make climbing surfaces easier.
Graft: Corruption: Enhance: Hollowing out the bones for greater agility and weight loss.
Unarmed Combat: Sweep the leg from behind.
Tactics: Repeating an attack pattern, in order to exploit the predictable response.
Strength: The tentacles have a resilience that belies their lack of bone density.
Strength: Using the strength of one hand to pin an enemy down.

Renown: 10 for getting exiled from the House of Rivers.
Loot: Corrupted traits for Kodi: Duplicated Fine Cilia on the hands (Corruption Enhancement). Enhanced agility from hollowed out bones (Enhancement 2/3)

Skill Review: All Skills used appropriate to level

Notes:
This is my first review of Rakvald and the piece, while stunningly written (even the gory parts), made me think of a few things in regards to other characters of yours.

Rak mentions his 'dulling the pains of life'...and this is a concept I've seen written in other characters you've done. Nothing wrong with that, of course, but I found it intriguing that it seems to be an overarching theme. I think, as a writer, no matter how hard we try sometimes, there are always a few of those that follow us in each character. I even checked my review notebook on things I've written about a few of your others and similar notes were there. I found it enlightening.

Rak, however, is much different than your other characters. I found the writing of this piece to be 'cold' - which isn't a knock on the writing. It's actually a compliment. I'm most familiar with a certain empath you write and when comparing the writing style you employ with each, that was the conclusion I came to. 'Cold', it this case means clipped, clinical....almost as if you are depriving the reader of extraneous information.

The story was great and the writing wonderful. I enjoyed his views on meditation and I look forward to reading more about the adventures of Rak!

If you have any questions, comments, or concerns regarding this review, feel free to PM. Enjoy your rewards!

Avalon

word count: 371
Post Reply Request an XP Review Claim Wealth Thread

Return to “Surrounding Area”