• Mature • Take As Your Model

7th of Cylus 720

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Kasoria
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Take As Your Model

7th trial, Cylus, 720
Storm's Edge
Morning



The sound was a consistent thing across the courtyard. Not constant, given the nature of it. Often drowned out or muddled by other activities, of which there were many. But if a man stopped toiling long enough, or listened hard enough, and he'd detect that separate thread of noise underlying everything else. For over a break, maybe longer, there was that same sound, broken up by spans of time usually in the trills, occasionally in the bits.

A hard one to guess, though, unless you were already familiar.

SHUNK

The Raggedy Man lowered the bow and glowered at the quivering shaft. Still off, and by quite a ways. It would probably have been a body shot, so would likely have disabled a man... but the first few attacks had shown him men would not be their enemy. Not even anything that walked on two legs or was comparable to a human being. Now it was beasties and monsters and abominations that prowled and slunk and lunged and stalked. On four legs. Kasoria was capable of killing pretty much anything put in front of him, given time and effort, but his expertise was with his own species... and mayhap a couple of others he'd had the dubious pleasure of testing himself again.

Better another Naerikk than more of these things. Even a clutch of scalies would be better.

The Etzori sighed and chased the thoughts away, drawing another arrow. There were already a dozen of them turning the target under the wall into a pin cushion. Only one was near the bullseye. Kasoria beat down his irritation and just... breathed. In and out. Rise and fall. Full and empty. Two states of being, nothing else. Once he was happy the world had been emptied of all save them, he nocked another arrow.

Feet static, but not inflexible. Draw as you raise. Inhale as you draw... aim... exhale as you-

SHUNK

Kasoria permitted himself a slight smile. Getting closer. Getting easier, too, which he hadn't been expecting. After so long doing the same motions, stretching and yanking and holding steady, his shoulders were starting to ache. Which at least told him he was doing it right: if his arms had been hurting, he'd know he was using the wrong muscles. He flexed his back a few times and nocked the last arrow in the quiver. Wouldn't that be fitting? Last shot, last arrow, last chance... bullseye.

We'll see.

The man everyone called Karim went through the motions. Added another thin layer of muscle memory to his body and his mind. That was the true purpose of all this. Not just accuracy or form or speed. Familiarity. Same as with blades or fists or ax or cudgel or anything else. His mind could understand it, but his body needed to know it. Had to have the motions carved into his bones through repetition. So now it was easier for him to nock, and draw, and aim and-

SHUNK

Kasoria looked... over his own arrow. He hadn't fired. A new arrow was quivering in the center of the target. A masterful shot, and he guessed before he even looked around-

-and sighed. A dozen profane greetings and retorts came to mind, but he stifled them. He was required to be... sociable, on this job, and she was a wellspring of information about what he sought to know. Spewing foulness at her was not a solid means to get her to spill it. Instead he turned back to the task at hand, aiming roughly for where her own arrow was ceasing to move... exhaled... and as the arrow tip stilled-

SHUNK

Better. But not quite a bullseye.

"Mornin'."
word count: 628
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Vega
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She's such a show off.....

Vega had taken the time to change her clothes and tie her hair back - she and Mathias were leaving to go and try and gather supplies and she wanted to be warm and comfortable. So, she was wearing a blue dress and she was well wrapped-up against the cold. Her sword was at her side, her bow at her back and her fiddle the other side. The three things that she went nowhere without, Arlo teased her and there was a part of her that knew he was right. She'd be glad to get there and get back, frankly, as she was worried about this place and the attacks, but they needed things and Vega knew that she was most use doing what she was.

Still, she had a little bit of time before they left, so she went to get some practice. She was just on the verge of getting a better understanding of the bow, Vega thought, and she wanted to really get back to basics with it in order to make sure that she was able to push herself and improve. Making her way down there, she saw Giggles, the perennially grumpy fella, and she watched him for a moment. Then, just as he took aim with another arrow, she loosed one of her own, and she saw him turn and see her.

Vega grinned at him, cheerily.

"Mornin' sunshine," she said, wandering up. "You've got better. Must have had a good teacher, I reckon." She knew, of course, that he'd got better because he practiced. That said, she made her way over to a different lane, and took aim at a different target. Frowning, she lifted her bow and focused on the pulling back, on the angle of her elbow and the feeling of her shoulders as she did so. She was at the point of focusing on minute details, and yet, they added up to make differences. Important differences.

Vega's aim here, and she had to smile slightly at the pun, was to be able to use her bow effectively while dancing. The dance she did, the acrobatics too - they were things which were helpful in combat situations. It was in those situations that Vega really didn't want to lose the ability to attack. She'd focused on her sword skill and she would always do that, but Vega was learning that there was a breadth to her abilities and she had to maximise them.

So, she spent a few moments just firing, getting a feel of it, finding her rhythm. And then, she started to warm up. But - as she did that, she kept firing. At first, she started with exercises which were easier to do while firing, and when she did so, her aim was - inevitably - off. That didn't bother her in the slightest. Starting with stretches which only impacted her legs, Vega made her way through and began to run through warm up exercises. To a count of four, and on the four, she fired.

"How're you holdin' up?" Vega asked, not looking at Kasoria, but speaking to him. "Did you ever find out how much yer gettin' paid?"
word count: 541
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Vega's skin has a reflective metallic sheen with a red glow. Her eyes still swirl biqaj colours, but one colour is always bright red which glows like fire. She has a bright red glow in her chest, situated directly under the mark of a heart (Daia mark) in the middle of a glowing silver dragon on her chest (Xiur). She's unnaturally warm to the touch
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When she had a lesson to teach, she was always worth listening to. Or watching, as the case may be. Kasoria paused in his efforts to recover his arrows and watched the woman. Not just the movements of her hands, but her stance. The way she seemed to be not just balance but at ease; as if she'd reached some level of proficiency where bone and muscle and wood and string were all the same. He thought of his own skill with the blade, any blade, and wondered idly if he would look much the same one day.

Maybe. Keep practicing and you'll see.

"Aye," he said evenly, choosing a gap in her shots to walk down the impromptu lane and reclaim his arrows. "She knows what she's talkin' bout."

Then the woman started moving... differently. Not quite a dance, not quite exercise. Something in between, that challenged and flexed and tortured her body, yet always left her capable of firing off an arrow. Usually with bruising accuracy. Kasoria wasn't the only one watching, but he wasn't stupid enough to try the same when he turned back to the target. He focused instead on her grip. Her stance. But this time...

TWANG

After he fired, he didn't lower the bow. Instead he reached back, bow arm still up, and notched the next arrow while dipping the yew just low enough for him to get the groove in the arrow around the string. He might not have the room or time to lower the bow all the way, come a true battle. So, speed would have to do, as well. Problem with speed was, it messed with accuracy, and being the latter was always more important than the former. So when the second arrow was yanked back and loosed-

THUNK

Kasoria almost twitched with annoyance as the arrow thudded into the very edge of the target. His first had been good, in the trunk, debilitating and at least fucking painful. The second? Would have sailed wide of a man, maybe winged a beast. He breathed in deep, then exhaled slow. Anger wouldn't help him; neither would frustration. He had time and opportunity; arrows and bow; even a teacher. So he notched the third one, and slowed down.

Then the redhead ruined it, of course. When she had something to teach, Kasoria listened to her. But when she just spoke, he'd learned to tune the bitch out. There was little she could say he cared to listen to.

Doesn't mean you have to be an idiot.

"Aye, dun' look like there's a rate fer this job. Wee cunt Mathias was lyin' about dat."

TWANG

"Still... never know what might be knockin' 'bout, in between the bloodin', y'ken?"

TWANG

"Couldn' do this a few trials ago. So, got somethin' outta it already. An'... usually, I find a way t'get some coin outta riskin' my skin."

TWANG

TWANG


Another couple of faster shots, or at least one normal, the second... hurried, he'd decided. There was a difference. It was slightly better, though, and that's what mattered. That and keeping his mouth shut. He'd dearly have liked to tell the smug bitch he'd already secured a way out of Storm's Edge, should the shit they were knee-deep in suddenly swell over their heads. But it was better for her to think otherwise; assume his perpetually pissed-off demeanor was due to no coin and no escape, which would naturally put a sellsword in a foul mood.

Let her think it. Let them all think you're just a crotchety old bastard with a wee bit of magic to him.

Kasoria smiled to himself as he notched a fresh arrow. He was used to being underestimated. He'd made a decent career out of it. This was no different... and it would end like it always did.

"Any more bodies arrive inna' night?" He spoke slowly, not wanting even the tremble of his words to effect his aim. A change in topic seemed a smart idea, anyway. "Guessin' we're gonna need more'n we've got right now. Dunno shite about these Fireborn fings, but they're pretty fuckin' tasty in a fight. Seem pretty keen on gettin' in, too..."
word count: 723
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Vega
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She's such a show off.....

There had been a time when Vega was a lot more impetuous and a lot more inclined to being loud-of-mouth and foul-of-temper. She'd calmed down a lot since the first time she'd stepped off the boat in Desnind, determined to find her mother's family. Such a lot had happened in the years since then, more than she could begin to express - more than she would ever want to explain to anyone except the one who'd been by her side in all of it. No, Vega was quite content - these days - to be who she was and how she was. She'd fought against her sense of self long enough and, these trials at least, it was really not important to her what others thought of her.

Which was a good job, really.

So, she practiced, and she asked Karim the questions she did. She had no wish to engage in a long conversation with him - her Immortal father frankly was a better conversationalist in Vega's eyes - so she made a friendly, general comment, reminded him that he'd made a poor first impression. Not for being a mercenary, Vega really didn't care about that, but for asking stupid questions. Then, having done those two things, she carried on. He was getting better, she had no doubt about that, but then he would as long as he practiced. However, Vega did not see herself in any way as his teacher so she did not think about teaching him. If she had, she'd have behaved differently, of course, but it didn't cross her mind.

As she warmed up, she did so to the rhythm which she heard in her head; on every fourth beat she made sure that she aimed and fired and she was constantly aware of needing to be able to do this. When, finally, she was warmed up sufficiently, Vega started to do what she had actually come here to do and, first, she cartwheeled and flipped down the lane to where her arrows were embedded in the target - shooting as she went. Then, she retrieved them, and she made her way back while continuing to move - dancing and leaping and twisting in the air. She was determined, absolutely determined that this damn place wasn't going to fall because she wasn't good enough.

There was no doubt in Vega's mind that this place was going to stand but, if she was wrong and it fell, it wouldn't be for lack of trying on the parts of the people here. She glanced as the man next to her, then she lowered her bow, though her body continued to sway slightly to the rhythm she was feeling from the floor. "You've been in a lot of battles?" Vega asked, thoughtfully. "I haven't really - not big scale military things an' sieges." She span and started firing, arrow after arrow in quick succession, as fast as she could while maintaining accuracy.

"Lots of fights, you know? Small scale. But this kind of stuff, it's different," she didn't look at him, just kept firing, spinning on her heel at apparently random intervals. "An' I reckon the sun comin' back an' it not bein' dark all the time will help folks. But even so," she didn't shrug but had she not been where she was or doing what she was, she would have. "I've never done a siege before." She flashed a mirthless grin and glanced at him, not stopping her firing as she did, so it veered slightly to the left, "what about you?"
word count: 618
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Vega's skin has a reflective metallic sheen with a red glow. Her eyes still swirl biqaj colours, but one colour is always bright red which glows like fire. She has a bright red glow in her chest, situated directly under the mark of a heart (Daia mark) in the middle of a glowing silver dragon on her chest (Xiur). She's unnaturally warm to the touch
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Re: Take As Your Model

"You've been in a lot of battles? I haven't really - not big scale military things an' sieges."

It was a few moments before Kasoria found his voice again. Cunty as she could be, there was no denying the redhead's skill. She whirled and skipped and jumped and danced and that one in particular seemed most apt of all. As if all her movements were part of some choreography he could not divine, nothing out of her control, all planned for and expected. And most importantly, few of her arrows went anywhere except from where she wanted them.

Someone to take as a model, he told himself, much as he growled internally afterwards. If only for archery.

"Dunno what yeh'd call a 'battle'," he said after a few moments, flipping through memories recent and dusty for comparisons. He notched a fresh arrow as he did so, scanning around for new targets. This linear practice was productive, but quickly became static. He needed the same fluidity she seemed to possess. "Ambushes. Skirmishes. Brawls inna gutter... boarded a pirate ship outside Yaralon once, that wuz prob'lee the biggest."

TWANG

He loosed an arrow to his front, turning and drawing a fresh one while it was still flying-

-until he was facing the wooden boards at his right. The sudden jerking of his body was an additional factor to consider as he went through the notch-raise-draw-loose motions. And when he let fly-

TWANG

The Raggedy Man of Etzos kissed the back of his teeth in irritation. Missed by half a foot or more. Still... it was worth the practice. He had to be able to move on a swivel, face enemies in more than one direction. Just like with his blades and his fists, he needed a hundred eyes for every limb and weapon. He turned back to the female as he paused, uncorking a wineskin with his teeth.

"I've never done a siege before, "what about you?"

The little man chugged a hefty amount and regarded the woman. She was nervous. She hid it well, had probably been hiding her feelings and worries all her life under that brassy, bossy, shitty facade... but there was hell and damnation coming towards them, and they all knew it. Even someone like her was worried, because she was smart enough to know that no matter your skill, being overwhelmed or worn down was always a possibility. What they'd survived so far had been probes, tests, experiments from some unseen intelligence gauging their strength. A blind man could see that. Kasoria knew worse was coming.

Easier when you're older, he thought morosely, and you know there's worse things than dying.

"Nah," he answered truthfully, tossing the skin to her once her left hand no longer held an arrow. "Never a soldier, an' never got bottled up like dis before. Kinda avoided dat shite, y'know? Better t'be out dere, onna move, able to... s'the word... maneuver." He gave a chuckle, as mirthless as her smile. "Then again, cunts I fought were human. Maybe a few other races, here an' there. Bein' out dere, against what's comin' at these walls now? Fuckin' suicide. Bes' bet's fer us t'hold up behind these walls, hold 'em back, make sure reinforcements an' supplies are still comin' our way."

Kasoria's gaze drifted to one of the holes in the wall, the last one to be filled. It passed over the men working at it, until it touched the grey and lifeless land beyond. Out there, hidden in distance and vastness, was an army. He didn't know how many or who commanded, but they were out there. They wanted this place, and he didn't need to be a general to work out why.

Control this place, or just conquer it, and the rest of Rharne spreads her legs for you. They can't afford to leave us alone.

Us?


The sellsword chuckled darkly. Vega would not know why, as she watched him shake his head, shaggy black locks rustling silently about his face. Finally he planted his hands on his knees with a slap, pushing himself upright. Doing his best not to groan as he did. Age was kind to no-one. He picked his bow back up and nodded back down the range. Pointing out the neat cluster of arrows in her target.

"Seen yeh shoot. Seen yeh swing steel. Seen yer magic. Yeh'll be fine. Jus' make sure yeh let these poor cunts see yeh, too. Leadin' by example an' all that shite. S'gonna mean a lot t'the folks that ain't never seen a real fight a'fore." The budding archer drew another arrow, cracked his neck from side to side, and marked a fresh target. "Fuckin' amazin' what people'll do... when yeh inspire 'em..."

TWANG
word count: 820
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ergh, feelings.........

Vega turned and looked at him, her expression sharp, as he spoke about pirates. It was far from rare that Vega was grouchy, but her feelings about pirates were very clear. Still, she said nothing and just carried on. They spoke, and he swigged from a wine-skin. He looked at her and Vega wondered briefly what was going on in his mind. He seemed to have a brief flicker of some sort of emotion, but there was his answer. No, he'd never been in a siege either. Vega considered it.

"I think the issue is that folks are afraid," she said, softly. Her voice was quiet, the colours in her biqaj eyes swirling around. "They're afraid of death. An' tellin' them not to be is pointless. Fear won't help," she shrugged slightly, "but then, they think they know what's comin'." She shook her head. They had no idea, not one of them. As for this bloke and his usual tendency to fight humans? Vega gave a half-smile at that. "'I've had a very excitin' life," she said, rather ironically. "Everythin' from fightin' critters of all sorts to bandits an' muggers." Vega considered it briefly and she shrugged. She'd told Mathias, and it wasn't something she hid.

"Back on Scalvoris, me an' a few others were taken prisoner in an attack on the docks durin' a party," she said. The expression on her face, the swirling colours of her eyes, they all told a story to anyone who knew her - but of course, he didn't. "We were chained up, in a warehouse. I were gobby, of course, an' irritatin' so this earth-elemental-thing grabbed me an' dragged me through the earth. Broke my legs, shattered them. Then, they tied me on to an altar an' burned me alive. I were dead for a good while, long enough to meet the twins." She shrugged slightly. "So, yeah, I've been in a place where you can't maneuver, for sure." She considered it and then said what she wanted to say, to explain how and why it was important.

"I fought. I kept fightin' an' I could have stayed dead, but I kept fightin' after I died, too. By doin' that, I survived. There were others, Maxine, Kura, Lavana, they fought too. An' keepin' fightin' meant that we got out. If we'd given up, we'd all be dead." She gestured around at Storm's Edge - at the people here. "Every one o' them." She smiled at his advice that she should keep leading, keep 'leading by example an' all that shite'. "I'm jus' obnoxious an' refuse to lose or die. Worked for me so far."

When he said that it was amazing what people would do when they were inspired, though, Vega let out a bark of laughter. "All I want from this lot is that they jus' don't die an' are vaguely useful. " She shrugged slightly, and nodded at him. "I accept it migh' be too much for some of them. But it's the baseline, innit?"

She nodded at him. "Any'ow, I'm out of here. Off to fight the good fight an' all that." Vega turned, ready to leave, then she stopped and looked back. "Take care of yerself. Try not to die." On the second point, whether he was useful or not? Vega kept quiet.
word count: 575
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Vega's skin has a reflective metallic sheen with a red glow. Her eyes still swirl biqaj colours, but one colour is always bright red which glows like fire. She has a bright red glow in her chest, situated directly under the mark of a heart (Daia mark) in the middle of a glowing silver dragon on her chest (Xiur). She's unnaturally warm to the touch
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The man everyone in Storm's Edge called Karim just listened as the woman spoke. He'd learned long ago that if you just let people babble on, they usually revealed more than they intended to. You just had to be patient. He sipped at his skin after the woman handed it back to him. Quite a storied life, it seemed. Casting a look at her, he'd not think she'd seen so much, been so far, engaged in so many adventures...

Makes it sound more than what it is, when you put it like that. He smiled ruefully. But maybe that's just you.

"Twins?" He said eventually, frowning until a look of vague comprehension dawned. "Ah... y'mean the Morties? Aye. F'heard of 'em. Dun' really give 'em much thought back home."

Kasoria was silent again. Something they had in common, he guessed. Other than a definite skill with implements designed to end lives. They'd both died. Though it seemed Vega had actually gone the full way, as they say. Been across the Veil, into that strange and sunless place where souls waited after their lives were spent. A trio of splotchy scars on his back and belly started to throb dully with memory. Fucking crossbows. Fucking crossbowmen, actually. Four of the wankers and they couldn't put him down. Just like the river didn't finish him. Just like that dead cunt Drix and that smug fucker Yusef couldn't finish the job for trials afterwards, when they dragged him off the beach.

He'd thought he was dead. Just for a little while. Long enough for the pain to... not vanish, but become small. Separate. Apart from him, like he'd left his wracked and ruined body behind. The man Vega knew by a different name stared into the middle distance. Memories came unbidden. Shapes. Shades. Voices in the dark and the fog. He'd reached from them in those faint breaks of delirium... but he'd never quite reached them.

Not yet, he remembered whispering. Not yet, they'd whispered back.

"I'm jus' obnoxious an' refuse to lose or die. Worked for me so far."

There was a bark of noise that sent a horse skittering and a passing couple of squires twitching. Kasoria took a moment to realize it had been him.

"Aye," he said, raising the skin in a quick salute. "More'n common than I thought."

That seemed to wrap up their heartwarming little chat. She clearly had other things to do, and Kasoria didn't guess to what they were. She was a linchpin, always in the middle of something important and time-consuming. She got up in a rush of movement and rustle of red locks. Turned back only briefly to favor him with that infuriating smile and a quipped, "Take care of yerself. Try not to die."

Kasoria got to his feet, nodded back, and turned away. There was plenty of light left, and as he notched a fresh arrow, he could feel the juices flowing back into his arms. Enough rest. Time to prac-

He'd learned long ago-

Kasoria stopped moving. Arrow nocked and bow half-drawn.

-that if you just let people babble on-

The names rushed back into his mind. He ran over them again. Memory still fresh, close enough in time for her voice to ring in his ears. The names from that place in Scalvoris. The altar. The burning. The twins. The others.

-they usually revealed more than they intended-

Maxine.

You just had to be patient.

Kasoria swallowed and slowly lowered his bow. There was a vast world beyond the castle, beyond Etzos, beyond Scalvoris. There were millions of people, millions of women... likely plenty of Maxines. But something pulled at him. The place, the memory, the violence and the horror... all things he knew that the girl he'd known would have been drawn to.

"Well fuck me runnin'..."
word count: 662
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Re: Take As Your Model

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Vega:

Knowledge:
Dancing x4
Acrobatics x4

Loot: -
Wealth: -
Injuries: -
Renown: -
Magic XP: -
Skill Review: Appropriate to level.
Points: 15

Kasoria:

Knowledge:
Ranged Combat: Bow (x6)
Socialization x2

PC Vega: Quite the Storied Past
PC Vega: Knows a Maxine (but is it THE Maxine?)
PC Vega: One of the Strongest Leaders at Storm's Edge

Loot: -
Wealth: -
Injuries: -
Renown: -
Magic XP: -
Skill Review: Appropriate to level.
Points: 15

- - -
Comments: I found the interaction between Kasoria and Vega quite enjoyable to read. I like how she called him sunshine even though he’s such a skilled fighter and everything – and how Kasoria watched her and listened to her. They are quite different, but somehow they get along. Vega’s talking about her life was quite interesting to read. She’s been through a lot, but she’s still herself, and she refuses to give up. I also like Kasoria’s approach – being obnoxious and refusing to lose or die. It has definitely worked out for him so far.

Enjoy your rewards!

word count: 169

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