• Graded • No re?

[Varthakh]

It had been some time since Fridgar had so brutishly punished the evil-doer that shot Danielle and made short work of his guts. The evil doer that been revealed as a friend of Paplo's, a somewhat crippled Avriel with only one wing. He didn't know the name of the creature yet, but hoped to learn in this act of peace offering. He carried with him his bag, filled with his usual kit and the bow that he had stolen from the creature in question. It was more than a dozen trials ago now, it felt like a pretty good time to forgive someone for shooting your friend then tearing your guts out.

The trial was temperate with fair, cooling breezes that rolled by every few bits. A nice trial to make peace. The Lothar followed the path through the outer perimeter, it would take him to the cave that the beast resided in, his destination. A trail of destruction was left in his wake as he trembled through foliage and flora. If anyone were tracking him, he wouldn't be too hard to find. The giant’s footsteps were heavy enough to alert anyone close by to his presence. He was dressed in the same attire as before, just less bloody, less broken and newer.

How did Fridgar expect this meeting to go? Swimmingly. Why? Because the Avriel had failed to kill him the first time around. Did he really think that the bird creature wouldn't be more prepared than the last encounter? Yes, simply because he'd broken its wrist in their last meeting. That, and he stole it's bow. The Lothar might have been dull to underestimate his opponent, but as far as he knew, the creature couldn't regenerate like he could. If this were to break into a fight, he had the advantage by far. Briefly, he considered keeping his dagger drawn or lightning ready, but what sort of peace offerer carried weapons at the ready or threw magic about? No, The Lotharro was determined to make things right, but he wasn't going to die for it.

His spark had grown recently, he could feel it. With the growth of his spark came two abilities, abilities that even his master hadn't told him about. It was all down to the Lothar to discover his new abilities. His thoughts strayed to echo, a technique he'd learned at competence in becoming. When he had a larger variety of totems, the technique had come in handy. He could smell for miles around with the nose of a bear, see in the dark with the eyes of a ryon and could leap super high with the jump of a hare. Of course, the technique was limited to abilities. Borrowing allowed him to take specific traits from totems, but needed a whole new transformation to achieve. If only he could mix the two and borrow traits on the fly?

Eventually, he happened by a landmark he recognised from his time as a goose; he was close. Fridgar passed the mossy boulder without a second glance, proceeding closer to his destination. Suddenly, without warning, the familiar vicious hiss of a goose sent shivers down his spine. Turning his head to the right revealed the pest he'd once become, the goose. It charged him from a good ten feet away and Fridgar panicked. He had to do something, but what? Without thinking, he ventured into the growth that his spark had undergone and kicked his new skill into action, Adapt. As quick as he could, he used echo but with a twist. Instead of taking a sensory ability, he took the scales of the king crocodile and applied it to his own skin.

In a flash, his skin would ripple before settling in the same pink pigment - it hadn't worked? investigating his hands revealed that it had worked, but not like he hoped. His skin had become scales, but made of Lothar skin. The patterns of the overlying scales existed, but that was the only trait that had copied over. The goose collided with his upper body, pecking furiously. "Fuck!" Fridgar roared, flailing his arms in a wild attempt to detach the creature. When at last he ripped the fowl foul from his person, he considered fighting it before fleeing in the direction of the cave, arms raised above his head in a similar fashion to Paplo from trials prior.

► Show Spoiler

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.

This is Fridgar's first time using the ability, as such, he fucked up.

[Noth]

Everything was peaceful.

The gentle songs of birds played through the wind, an orchestral arrangement of beauteous noises all combining to formulate the pleasant sounds of nature. Songbirds lilted between one another, attempting to locate mates or communicate in their own avian fashion, and the twilight hybrid; a bird of his own feather, joined in with them, adopting their songs even though he was a foreigner to their ways. Nearby, a meadow dripped softly as it poured over sunken stones and fell off of short drops, dribbling in a way reminiscent of rain when it tumbles from atop a roof. Clouds made up the majority of the sky, shielding the heavily feathered bird from the blazing scorch of the sun, and giving him something enjoyable to view at the same time.

He felt something, the prickling sensation of suffering that jolted him from his prone position, and forced his eyes to examine his left hand. Could it have been some manner of bug that had bitten him? It wasn’t so uncommon that a gnat or tick might have pounced upon his blue flesh, and determined that it was deserving of a meal, but no such pest was found upon him. He ruffled the feathers of his hand, attempting to locate the source of the pain, but it simply excited the hidden injury, and he felt another surge of agony twist through his hand, surging through his core and forcing him to grind his teeth against themselves. They gnashed harshly, and Noth could feel them slowly between to give way under the pressure, tumbling to the grassy knoll below with reckless abandon.

Crimson eyes the color of fire suddenly reignited themselves as lazy eyelids removed themselves from their resting places. He was back home, within the cavernous mouth of a local underground system, and he struggled to adjust to the relative brightness seeping in from the outdoors. Vern pestered him for a few moments, acting as a dutiful nurse in his stead before wandering away from the cavern entirely, leaving her master writhing upon the ground in pain. The wound had become relatively tolerable throughout the past few trials, but; despite his lack of medical expertise, Noth had become increasingly aware of the fact that he slept upon his left arm fairly regularly, and the shooting pains that accompanied such terrible actions tended to cause him less than restful nights of sleep. The last trial had been the exception, and he was thankful that he had avoided rolling around too heavily so that he might regain his strength for any coming tribulations that he might encounter.

The still sleepy; and now aggravated, Avriel arose from his slumbering position, and wiped away the sleep from his eyes, contemplating what time it was outside, and how much sunlight he had wasted by resting so long into the morning. A quick peek outdoors revealed that a majority of the trial remained for productive activities, and he quickly examined his pile of possessions for his longbow as he considered what manner of creature he might hunt. Disappointed impressed itself upon his features as he remembered the fate of his handy tool, and he dejectedly slid against the wall, allowing himself to rapidly descend to the ground as he contemplated how he might make a living for himself without his trusty tool. It was true that there were some hunters who had become so clever that they didn’t require ranged weapons, but they were few and far between, and that sort of hunting required intensive training and time that the Avriel doubted he possessed. Nonetheless, he had showed some initiative in the past by building assorted things, and he began to mentally tinker with the idea of a rabbit snare so that he might supplement his measly diet of occasional fruits and vegetables with actual food.

Daily activities required his attention, and the murderous bird began to scour throughout his possessions in search of a rag he had manufactured from the hem of a woolen shirt. The shirt had managed to retain a majority of its cloth, and had proven to be fairly useful throughout the seasons of Cylus and Zi’da, but now that they had passed, it had lost some of its splendor, and necessity had led him to extract a rag from it. He felt the slight pieces of dirt and grime that had stuck to the rag, and realized that he would need to wash it soon lest the entire process become meaningless. With a sigh, he scooted over to his hauberk and greaves, and began to wipe away any blood or grime that had become attached to the armor pieces. A loose feather or two were likely culprits to be found within the inside of the armor, and he found himself reaching within the piece and groping about his possessions in hopes of removing any offending pieces. It was important to keep your equipment clean so as to prevent failures, though he couldn’t quite understand why someone would focus so heavily upon wiping away dirt from their armor other than to give it something of a gleaming shine. He shrugged, accepting that there was a reason buried somewhere in the infinite halls of knowledge for his actions, and carried on with a similar task with his adamantite mace and the assorted knives he had scattered throughout the home.

Somewhere distant there was the cry of an angry goose, and the loud epithet of someone who had startled his aggressive guard beast. He hadn’t quite realized it as of yet, but the lack of a longbow prevented him from defending him home with quite the same efficiency as he had previously done, but he knew he wasn’t entirely helpless. With another agitated groan, he retrieved one of his knives, placing it at his side and tucking it somewhat into his clothing to ensure it would keep its place. Simultaneously, his other hand worked to retrieve his hefty mace, careful not to swing about too heavily in case it incited more pain to flourish within his appendage.

The footsteps grew closer, and the terrifying Noth prepared himself to face another drunken idiot, or perhaps a pure-blood hunter searching to purge his unholy flesh from the land, or maybe even a fellow criminal searching for an easy score from what was ostensibly a hermit. What he hadn’t quite expected was a burly and checkered strongman rushing up to his door like a fairy tale being. Thankfully, the hybrid had a slight advantage in defense in that the spikes which jutted out of the log which acted as his front door would keep the tougher man from simply vaulting over them at his speed, though admittedly they weren’t meant to keep out sentient beings. The face was somewhat difficult to discern given the odd pattern which adorned it, but the height and relative frame of the fellow, as well as some hidden features about his existence made it absolutely clear as to who he was.

“Come to take my eyes then?” He growled from behind his oaken barrier, fingers clutching tighter around the mace, feathers bristling as he prepared for another fight.

[Varthakh]

Fridgar ran. Whatever in Ilaren's name the bird creature had been feeding the goose, it was certainly serving it's purpose. Fridgar turned around a glance, was it still following him? Yes. Granted, he'd gained a few trills on it, but the beast was still incredibly fast. Fridgar was doomed, unless he could get away somehow. Frantically, his legs flung about below him as he propelled himself forward. With his superior endurance, it was unlikely that he would tire out or even begin to sweat in his exertion. The Lothar looked behind him once more, no sign of the avian asshole.

A victorious grin began to creep across his features as he ran... straight into a low hanging branch. A thunderous snapping noise boomed through the nearby woodlands on impact and the Lothar fell to the floor on his side, saving his backpack. Immediately, he scrambled for his feet. Once stood, he looked about the immediate area with his stance wide. What had happened to his attacker? The branch he'd rammed his head into had snapped halfway from the body of the tree. A pounding headache had enveloped him, messing with his coordination a little as his brain seemed to throb. He didn't have time to contemplate his position much further as the attack goose swept in from above, hissing viciously.

The terrified Lothar yelped in panic as he narrowly dodged the incoming beast - He didn't waste this time he'd bought, no. Immediately, Fridgar got to running and bolted for the direction he'd been heading in. His heartbeat sounded a drum in his ears, curving around to the back of his head. A bit or so of frantic running went by before the bird creature came into view in the distance. Now was the time, the final sprint. Fridgar bombed it at the 'Avriel' with intent to kill. Shortly, he remembered his reason for visiting in the first place. The giant would skid to a halt, nearly falling on his arse in the process.

"Whoa!" The towering man called out, waving his arms in an effort to maintain his balance. "You What?!" the beast roared, apparently displeased with the other male's gesture. As he stood opposite the log, a few things became clear to the Avriel; Fridgar's skin had turned to flesh coloured scales, like that of a crocodile, pieces of wood and splinters dotted Fridgar's bloodied forehead, third of all, his goose had taken flight and was about to attack. "What the fuck? No? I just came to-" The goose collided with the back of his head.

Almost immediately, Fridgar cried out in anguish, flailing his arms like a Lothar possessed. As he stumbled forward, the spiked log would jab him in the lower chest and entice a startled yelp from the giant. Finally, he pulled the avian pest from his body and hurled it at the avriel, only for the goose to gracefully land at the creature's side. "FOR FUCKS SAKE!" He roared, clearly pissed. Snarling with bitterness, he checked over his chest; the spike hadn't impaled him as much as it had poked him. Still though, white feathers matter his hair as well as red peck marks all over his enraged face. "DO YOU WANT YOUR DAMN BOW BACK OR NOT!?" He questioned whether his journey had been worth the trouble.

[Noth]

Noth had long since wondered what Vern consumed when he wasn’t around. Typically, he had given her assorted berries and local fruits whenever he could find them, and had supplemented her diet with more basic herbs, and even the occasional slice of meat. Realistically, he knew that geese were probably not highly carnivorous, but meat was good for building muscle, and if he wanted his goose to stand any chance against small ankle biting predators, then it would need to be a strong animal. Beyond that, the question was whether or not it foraged through the woods and located any local plants that had boosted her abilities. He wouldn’t put it past her to ingest things such as that, and it would give an ample explanation for her heightened aggressiveness as of late. Alternatively, she could just be mirroring her master and the apparent bloodlust that had consumed him in his dealings with others.

The large and thundering Lothar exploded through the woods, narrowly avoiding occasional branches, and humorously smacking directly into another. He charged forward, apparently intent on tackling the Avriel from beyond the log which he called a door, and the hybrid prepared himself for battle once more, somewhat regretting the fact that he had not donned his hauberk for any further combat with the giant. It hadn’t saved him from their last engagement, but he felt confident that it had assisted him in avoiding a splintered ribcage or a busted lung.

Crimson eyes settled upon the mottled flesh of the man, curious as to the strange scales that he had grown since their last encounter. Could it be that he had consumed the King Crocodile and taken some of its power? Seasons ago, he might have considered such a thing to simply have been a myth, or a story told to the ignorant in order to make them consume strange and potentially poisonous material, but then he had met Mammon, and he had claimed to do something similar. He had consumed the energy of those around him, swallowing it down like a palpable substance, and it stood to reason that the strongman might possess the same inherent abilities. Did that mean they were of the same ilk? That they were both immortal? It was possible, especially given that the strongman had apparently survived despite the lack of several portions of his intestines that the hybrid would otherwise have considered rather important for living.

The strongman responded to his accusation, declaring that he had not come to steal away the hybrid’s eyes, though his entire response was rather short-lived as a very agitated goose slammed into the back of his head. Vern flailed her wings at his head, battering it rather ineffectually, though the harsh pecking downwards towards the bridge of his nose was probably rather painful. The giant slid forward, jabbing himself against one of the spikes which uttered a sound of pain. All in all, it was terribly amusing to observe mused the hybrid, and he genuinely questioned why he had been worried about this person at all. The shooting pain in his left wrist answered that question handily, and he returned to a more guarded stance.

The Lothar took hold of Vern, and the twilight hybrid nearly pounced upon him then and there for having grasped his favored pet. Indeed, if the man had determined to harm Vern instead of simply tossing her to him, then he would have been far more vicious than the last time they had fought. What he lacked in armor, he would make up for in savagery that the animal kingdom was seldom capable of possessing. The savagery of intelligence, that driving contradiction which caused the wise to become cruel, and the calm to grow livid.

His guarded stance and heart lessened their warring tendencies immediately as the Lothar screamed outwards, questioning whether or not the hybrid desired his bow or not. The longbow had been lost for several trials now, and already Noth’s food stores had all but dried up. He had questioned frequently how he would make a living for himself and his beloved pet without the use of the hunting implement, and so; despite his desire to be arrogant and prideful, he knew that he needed to accept the return of his tool.

He sighed inwardly, his breath holding within his chest for a moment as he contemplated his answer.

“Yes. I would be grateful for the return of my bow.” The pain in his left wrist intensified, and he wondered whether or not it was trying to soothe the prideful suffering he felt with actual corporeal misery.

“I do wonder though… why return it?” It seemed a valid question, though if it was the difference between him retrieving his tool and not, then he would gladly allow it to be shelved.

[Varthakh]

The beast bared his fangs with a tight jaw and forced a chuckle. "Whatchya looking at?" Fridgar's one eye settled on the Avriel, but made no eye contact. What the fuck was he looking at? His head? His skin? The beast cast his eye to his paws and looked over the surface before remembering that he now had scales instead. "Oh." he spoke suddenly, seeming to understand. His giant hand would be thrust effortlessly into his pocket, searching for something or other before producing a small bone, no bigger than the section of finger.

Seeing as his new ability had only half worked, he figured he could try it again despite his ether sickness. An intense focus would claim his features as his own big brown eye settled on the totem. His head would shake a little with strain as he searched through the genetic make-up of the sovereign substances for a trait to adapt. Once he'd found the trait of skin he desired, he cast adapt and quickly applied it to the currently assumed form. His scales would fold over themselves in a ripple starting at the head and ending at his feet. In their stead was a thick, pale, leathery skin, appearing puffy and coarse; it wasn't an improvement.

His arms would widen, opening his body for the Avriel to see. "There, happy now?" He didn't seem to realise just what exactly he'd become.

Thankfully, the Avriel had asked for his bow back, sort of. Fridgar was happy to oblige, unless he somehow managed to strangle to goose with it first. "Why?" Fridgar's expression of anger twisted into a half smile,"Can't a guy just be nice without being questioned?". It made sense that the Avriel would be reluctant to accept anything from the Lothar following their previous encounter, now that he thought about it. Before the creature could even respond, Fridgar shook his head. "Alright, I'll explain... but it's a long story." The Lothar offered the Avriel an escape with no intention of sparing him of what was to come.

"So back when I lived in Rynmere, I was a bit of a twat and did a bunch of stupid things. Wasn't really my fault, the people there were just cunts all the time and I preferred to argue with my fists..." The man trailed off, detailing various violent crimes in which he claimed to have mauled, maimed and killed people, not always in that order either. "...And then this posh prat party came by,
The midwinter ball. Now, I don't usually go to posh parties, I prefer the tavern, but Rey'na asked me to go and I obliged. There I met my fiance, I wanted to kill him at first if you can believe it..." he trailed off about how magical the night had been, dancing with the unnamed man.

Bits went by in dozens as the giant seemed to explain his life story to the stranger, the creature would be forgiven for falling asleep, perhaps even more than once.

The giants story didn't end there, he continued to blurt out more ridiculous claims. "...And that's how I got pinned for attempted regicide. After that, Filch helped me from the dungeons and teleported me to Etzos when I started doing bad things again. Me and my fiance argued and it lead to the conclusion that I'm a cunt and need to start shaping up." Fridgar sighed, partially to catch his breath and partially for the sake of expressing himself. "So you see, that's why I can't do bad things. Stealing is a crime so I have to return your bow. That way, it's just borrowing and not stealing. Make sense?"

Fridgar focused on a pocket of ether with his minds eye, right next to the creature. He'd been talking for half a break, what was a blink on top of a couple of cheap, broken spells? With some effort, he managed to pull his physical form beyond the log and landed at the Avriel's side. The creature would simply see Fridgar disappear after closing his eyes briefly, should he look to his left, he would see the towering Lothar, presenting the bow as promised. "Besides" he started with a shit-eating grin, "I don't have any arrows."

[Noth]

It seemed unlikely that the strongman was aware of his recent transformation into an abominable creature of myth and legend, because he responded to the intense stares of the Avriel by baring his teeth and asking what he was looking at. Both were fairly aggressive actions when considered alone, although one was more likely to be found in animals whilst the other was common in many drinking establishments. Were it not for the mirthless laughter that escaped his lips, the hybrid might have taken it for a challenge, though he determined through that single action that the strongman was genuinely curious as to why he was so intently focused upon him. Realization struck him the instant he looked downwards at his own strangely marred flesh, and the hybrid simply nodded as if saying that this was why he had been observing.

The mottled pattern disappeared in a few moments as the strongman took hold of a bone talisman buried deep within the confines of his pockets. Noth observed with curiosity and some semblance of awe as the scaled flesh folded in on itself, though the flesh seemed to remain in that folded position, becoming puffy and leathery like a boot. The strongman spread his arms outward, apparently showing off his new form, and the twilight hybrid questioned whether or not the man was attempting to impress him with shows of ability. To be fair, it had been rather an impressive occurrence, but he would be far more fascinated in seeing the teleporting ability once more. Marrow had possessed a similar ability, and he wondered whether or not that meant they followed the same disciplines, though something about the strongman said he would be opposed to raising the dead to fight his battles for him.

“Comparatively, I suppose this is better?”
He stated with a questioning tone, not actually entirely certain whether or not this had been an improvement or not.

His question was answered in a seemingly generic manner which made the murderous Avriel somewhat skeptical. Being nice wasn’t really a reason to return a weapon to someone who had attacked you in the past, and he genuinely hoped that the strongman hadn’t somehow hardened his body to the point that air could no longer reach his brain. There was a slight alleviation to these internal questions of potential stupidity when the strongman determined to reveal his reasons behind the return of the bow.

He should have just never asked.

The hybrid stood there, facing perhaps the ultimate test in wills by keeping his eyes directly on the Lothar throughout the entirety of the story. He listened fairly intently to the story, despite its length and seeming lack of an end, but his mind still wandered to other things. Was Vern inside or outside the little palisade he had erected? That question was answered fairly quickly as the goose settled upon his foot, determining that it was a good place to rest since he clearly wasn’t going to be going anywhere soon. He envied her. Another important question that crossed his mind was whether or not his food was going to spoil by the time he returned inside. It seemed unlikely, but with how long the tale of regicide and romance and renegade behavior was lasting it wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility.

He became acutely aware that the strongman had asked him a question, and immediately rewinded the previous bit of conversation, attempting to determine what his answer was supposed to be. It reminded him vaguely of those few times that he had gone into taverns or other drinking establishments and been caught staring at the tavern wenches whilst they told their stories. He cast a look at the Lothar once more, and determined that all things considered, he would rather have been staring at one of the pitiful tavern wenches.

“I suppose there is some altruistic logic behind that idea.”
He spoke, finally having determined his response.

An instant later, the strongman disappeared. Noth questioned whether or not he had blinked and accidentally fallen asleep due to the monotony of the story, but Vern stay lay upon his foot which seemed to hint that such was not the case. On top of that, the assorted birdsong of the forest had not faltered for even an instant. Avriel eyes noticed the slightest dispersal of air flowing off of his side, and immediately concluded the location of the fellow.

“That’s even a more logical reason.”
He said, eliciting a light chuckle. Feathered hands reached outwards, and took familiar hold of the longbow, allowing it to rest easily in his grasp. With it, his livelihood was returned, and for that he was remarkably grateful. Thankfully, the bow itself was not terribly heavy, and so he was able to grasp it within his left hand whilst he extended his right one to the strongman for a shake of gratitude.

“In honesty, I would have rather liked to avoid bloodshed whatsoever in our encounter. I was startled by your lightning, and found myself reacting on instinct. Despite my disposition, I try not to seek conflict, though I find it thrust upon myself quite readily. You ought to understand that, given your remarkable story of endurance.”
The sweet talking was gentle, calming, peaceable as it tried to bridge the gap between the two caused by their rocky past. The first step to any negotiation or agreement was to establish common ground, and having the Lothar give him his entire life story had certainly helped in finding similar occurrences.

“By the by, I am Noth, and you are…?”
It was an open question, one which he hoped would be filled. Establishing personal pronouns to someone assisted further in allowing for future comradeship.

“I am a hunter by trade, you know. I see that you are possessed of monstrous strength equivalent or greater than some of the larger beasts of these woods, though even you must struggle against some of the gnawing monstrosities. I myself struggle as well with some of those creatures, as; whilst I am a fair archer, it can be difficult to battle them alone without becoming gored.”
He paused for several moments before raising a feathered finger, as if though the idea had just occurred to him. “You know, we could work together! You are a mighty hunter, perhaps the mightiest I have ever met, and I would be honored to join you on a hunt of the great beasts of the land. It would assist me greatly in providing food for myself.”
There were several pleas hidden throughout the statement, but Noth felt positive that he had delivered them perfectly. He had established more common ground in their backgrounds, and then highlighted the strengths of the pair. After that, he had appealed to the giant’s sense of pride, and then made it fairly clear that he would assisting the poor with acquiring food by allowing Noth to hunt with him. There would be prizes for the act as well.

With false pleas written along crimson eyes, the hybrid awaited the strongman’s response.

[Varthakh]

Altruistic? Fridgar nodded, despite not knowing what that word meant. "Yes" he affirmed, "Altistic indeed..." Fridgar scratched his chin lightly with the blunt edges of his claws as he'd seen lots of people do at Andaris library... Before he tore it up. The bird guy didn't seem as tense as he'd first imagined he'd be when he blinked, if anything, he was calm. Probably because the bird dude was kinda scary himself. An odd thing, even though Fridgar had broken the Avriel in their previous encounter, he couldn't help but feel intimidated by the creature's presence in a calm atmosphere.

Even so, he knew that he could kill the man in a single move. That knowledge, he wouldn't forget. "Yeah, I know what you mean" He really didn't. The Avriel used many a big-word, words that Eric never taught him. In the end, he determined that the man wouldn't have the nerve to insult him at point blank, so he must have been complimenting him. "Thanks, that's very kind of you.." was it? Fuck if he knew. Understanding this guy was going to be a challenge on its own, let alone having a conversation with him! Fridgar paused briefly before speak suddenly "And you're an awesome archer! Unless you weren't aiming for that girl's calf... Then you're kinda crap to be honest."

Noth, the Avriel introduced himself. Somehow, Fridgar had determined that the smaller monster was without a name, more of a forest troll without a family than a civilian. But this guy spoke like a noble, better than a noble, even. Even if it was in a nerdy way, Noth had impressed him. "Fridgar" he nodded, "My name's Fridgar." a grin would tug at the corner of his mouth, while he wanted to remain angry and spiteful, he couldn't help but smile with his response. At last, the beast had found... a friend? The 'nice guy' thing was already paying off! Not to rush things though, breaking a man's wrist then returning their weapon was not cause for friendship. But still, he'd made a connection.

Sure, Alistair was the only company he truly needed, but friends were nice to have. Avrae, Reyna... Maybe Paplo, and now Noth. He nearly had a friend for every digit on a single paw! Fridgar began to smile, seemingly for no reason.

Then arose the topic of hunting, Fridgar tilted his head to the left slightly. This time, he payed very close attention to the words that Noth spoke, trying his very best to understand his elongated gibberish. The focus in his one eye was almost unsettling, he stared hard enough to perhaps burn a hole in Noth's lips. It seemed that the bird man was trying to form a sort of alliance with Fridgar, though he couldn't imagine why. Was Noth not afraid of losing his eyes as Fridgar had threatened? "Yeah, sometimes. That crocodile would have been a pain in the arse if it had dragged me into the water with him!" Fridgar grinned. Fortunately, he'd bested the beast in the shallows. His superior strength was a large part in being able to take down giant monsters with a few blows.

Fridgar nodded in understanding, goring was a popular theme that tended to follow him on most adventures. Surprisingly, it hasn't been the beast on the last hunt that gored him. He cast his eyes to the oversized toe nails that the Avriel bared. As weird as it was to see the weapons that had once gutted him once more, he couldn't help but consider the usefulness of an Avriel totem. Sadly, not many uses came to mind. Flying would be difficult with only one wing. "Tell me about it. That croc nearly had me and all, but I'm too quick." He grinned again, somewhat full of himself.

Noth's sudden movement put the Lothar on edge immediately, forcing his muscles to tense at the raise of his finger. This was, of course, a very brief reaction due to the intimidating atmosphere that clung to the Avriel. When his subtle brace for impact ended, he couldn't help but feel dull at the realisation of what Noth's intentions were, he'd been suggesting an idea. A proposition of some sort. The creature proposed that he helped the mighty hunter in his quest for giant beast's to kill. Fridgar puffed his chest out proudly, straightening his back as he fell for Noth's flattery completely. "I am pretty mighty, aren't I?" He spoke at last, his tone deep and authoritive, full of confidence.

The towering Lothar hummed as he contemplated Noth's offer. What could go wrong? All he needed was some blood, bone and skin/scale/hair from whatever he killed, what would be the downside of some ranged support? As Fridgar had seen, he was a pretty good aim and knew his stuff. Though, how would his injury effect his drawing of the string? Surely, he'd need to get better before joining Fridgar in glorious hunts? "Sure, why not?" Fridgar affirmed with a grin and a raise of his chin. "But you oughta know, I go for the bigger game, wherever I am. That and I'll need a limb of some sort off of every kill. It's for my arcana." He hoped that the Avriel understood that he was a mage by now, at least.

But what of Fridgar's aspirations? "But, you should know. I plan on going to Gauthrel for hunts in the near future." Fridgar explained before pausing. Had Noth ever been to Gauthrel? "It's the homeland of the Lotharro, they don't really speak common." The beast scratched his stubbled chin, had he forgotten anything to mention about Gauthrel? He paused, appearing deep in thought before widening his eyes with realisation "Oh!" He called out, "Each and every fauna there is strong enough to flatten a small town in a dozen bits at the most. That's probably useful knowledge, right?"

[Noth]

He was dealing with a meathead. The realization struck him the instance that the strongman attempted to repeat his descriptor back to him. Humorously, the mispronunciation was very nearly the correct word to describe the Lothar if one were to replace the ‘L’ with a ‘U’. Nonetheless, despite the mental weaknesses of the fellow, Noth felt a general respect towards him due to his overpowering strength and combative abilities. He would be a good addition to their forces whenever they finally made their march upon Pahrn and Vuda, but before any such alliances could be invoked, he needed to be tested, and be made loyal. That required activities of bonding, and little bonded men quite as well as bloodshed and battle. The political stance and ideology of the strongman were unknown, and so the most logical answer had been to accompany him on his hunting trips, and to benefit from the carcasses of great beasts.

Crimson eyes re-examined the Lothar, wondering at the actual level of strength hidden away behind his seemingly taut muscles. Clearly, he had been working upon his physicality for quite some time, but as far as he knew, that was fairly common among the Lothar. Stories of old seemed to think that they were an entire society of monster hunters and great warriors, but that was very clearly false. Despite their abilities, there would inevitably need to be some who focused upon crafts for their brethren; smithies, stable boys, farmers. Hunting was beneficial for gathering flesh and food, but even the greatest of herds had their limits, and to rely exclusively upon hunting them would drive them to extinction, and thus ruin the lives of their dependents.

Humorously, despite their last engagement, Noth felt fairly confident that he could kill the Lothar in a single blow if he wanted. They were calm, discussing, talking, and whilst he felt sure that the strongman could become attentive in a moment’s notice, he was a predator, which meant he would strike for a vital area in a heartbeat. He contemplated that subject more, determining that his instinctive target would be the large artery upon the side of the neck, and that his weapon of choice would likely be one of the sickeningly sharp talons located upon his foot. A slight twist, a rapid kick, and the deed would be done. Of course, the Lothar could heal himself miraculously, but the twilight hybrid felt fairly confident that if he nearly decapitated him with the blow, that he wouldn’t be able to come back.

Still, he had more use for him alive than dead. The compliments of the meathead were noted, and despite the relative lack of intellect apparently present in the fellow, they genuinely caused a streak of warmth to grow within his chest. It had been a long while since he had received a compliment on his abilities, especially from a stranger, and it left him in a far kinder mood. The implication that he might have missed his target, and accidentally stricken the girl’s calf was terribly unlikely.

“I hit my target.” He spoke, immediately regretting the words. If he had kept his mouth shut, then he could have likely played it off as an accident and thus absolved himself of all blame. The Lothar didn’t seem the type to hold grudges over such matters, but still, he made a mental note to check his speech before it rattled out lest he incriminate himself before a judge or lawman.

The Lothar identified himself as Fridgar. It was a name that he had never quite heard before, but it reminded him vaguely of the word ‘frigid’. Noth wasn’t certain where it was that the Lothar hailed from, but he wondered whether or not it was a snowy and icy place like where the Battle for Treid’s Hart had been fought. Another mental note was made to question him after their current thoughts had been concluded. Fridgar spoke of the King Crocodile as though it were a minor inconvenience; a wasp which caused little pain, which seemed to hint at his true ability as a huntsman.

Fridgar was rather full of himself, it seemed, and thus the assorted compliments and bragging made by Noth in his favor worked spectacularly. The Lothar seemed to agree with nearly every sentence coming out of the hybrid’s mouth, which meant that his chances of success were rising exponentially with every agreement. Finally, the hunter agreed to allow Noth to join him on his expeditions, and a smooth smile crept up the twilight hybrid’s visage, the taste of meat already subconsciously finding its place in his maw. Noth was unworried about the prospects of larger game, or that Fridgar would want a piece to act as a trophy to power his abilities, but he did stop when Gauthrel was mentioned.

There were stories about Gauthrel in his book. Vague, fantastic stories which involved monstrosities so hideous and terrible that the hybrid had based portions of his intimidation tactics and appearance upon them. The homeland of the Lotharro was revealed, and the twilight hybrid felt a sickening twist in his stomach at the idea of dealing with an army of meatheads for trials, all the while attempting to fend off terrors from beyond comprehension with the apparent ability to slaughter entire towns.

The frown found its way across his face in an instant, and he let loose a practiced sigh of disappointment. “I’m afraid that I can’t travel quite that far, friend.” He had only just gotten to know the Lothar, but using the title of ‘friend’ would probably help to ease the conversation in his favor.

“I have people I need to take care of around here, and if I left, then everything I worked for would just fall apart. I hope you understand… it’s not that I don’t want to go… it’s that I have a duty.” He felt certain that would do the trick of excusing him from the adventure, but he wanted to part on good terms nonetheless with the strongman. He had considered saying that he had family to take care of, but that would have been a blatant lie, and he wasn’t entirely certain that his deceptive abilities would be able to transmit that thought without discovery. The subject of family was a touchy one, after all.

“If ever you return to Etzos though, I would gladly hunt beside you.”

[Varthakh]

Fridgar frowned. Alas, his new hunting companion would be very temporary, it seemed. "That sucks." Fridgar nodded, "Sorry to say, but I don't plan on hanging around Etzos for too much longer. Everything is weak here, I need a challenge." the crocodile had proven to be a little fun to hunt, twice it had hurt him. But even so, that was the only thing he'd found even remotely entertaining in the area. As fun as it was to beat down humans by the dozen in tavern brawls, Fridgar quickly tired of it. A thought struck, "Oh!" he called, pointing a single digit to the sky before putting it to his lips, "Some trial, I'll be a pretty good rupturer. I can get my hands on a sundial and open a portal between here and there. That way, you can come hunting in Gauthrel just by stepping out 'your front door?"

But as fun as it was to stand and chat, Fridgar had to find something to do or he would grow bored. "I've gotta go smash up a tavern or something. Maybe Vuda has a job to keep me occupied, fuck knows." he nodded. Fridgar would scratch the back of his head and look to the path he'd taken. "Well, see ya Noth. Sorry about the wrist and all!" and with that, he took his leave, though glared at the goose a little before turning and lumbering away.

All in all, it was a job well done. He'd returned the bow, exercised a new ability and made a new friend and hunting companion. Sure, he got injured along the way and attacked by a goose, but he'd done the right thing, and that's what mattered.

[Maltruism]

Come and get your Loot!

(There's plenty more where that came from)

NOTH:

Rewards:

• Story: +5
• Collaboration: +5
• Structure: +5

You can NOT use these points for magic.

Knowledges:

• Animal Husbandry: Be Aware of What Your Pet Eats
• Deception: Concealing Your Needs Within Casual-Sounding Proposals
• Detection: Fridgar Didn't Realize His Magic Hadn't Worked
• Discipline: Keep Your Armor and Weapons Wiped Clean
• Discipline: Suppress Your Pride to Get Your Bow Back
• Endurance: Wrist Pain Robbing You of Sleep
• Etiquette: Listening to Stories in Which You Have no Interest
• Field Craft: Learning to do Basic Tasks One-Handed
• Field Craft: Spiked Logs Actually Work to Block a Doorway
• Fridgar: Has a Serious Skin Condition
• Gauthrel: Where Fridgar Wants to get his Totems
• Intelligence: Comparing Abilities of Mages to Gauge Domains
• Location: Gauthrel: Lothar Monster-Hunting Grounds
• Negotiation: An Offer of a Hunting Partnership
• Negotiation: The Old Standby: Flattery
• Negotiation: Vern Gives You a Position of Strength
• PC: Fridgar: The Guy That Broke Your Wrist
• Persuasion: Blaming Your Reactions on Instinct
• Persuasion: Look for Common Ground in Life Experiences
• Sociology: Compliments are Surprisingly Effective
• Tactics: Casually Mentioning Etzos to See Fridgar's Reaction

Loot, Loss, Injuries, Fame and Devotion:

Nothing to speak of

Comments:

You Guys are hilarious! I Love the cautious, subtle snobbery of Noth, and the brash, clueless, flattery-sponge, Fridgar, soaking it up. Boy if he realized Noth was playing him, we'd have had another beat-down, I think.
May you have many happy hunting trips together, if you don't kill each other before you kill anything in Gauthrel.

___________________________________________________________

FRIDGAR:

Rewards:

• Story: +5
• Collaboration: +5
• Structure: +5

I'm tentatively saying these points can NOT be used for magic. I'm unsure, but I think if a newly used ability fails, it doesn't count to able to advance to a new tier. I greatly appreciate the realism of not quite pulling off a new trick successfully. Like last time, if you object to this POV, I am willing to consider others.

Knowledges:

• Acrobatics: Dodging a Vicious Goose Attack
• Appraisal: One-Winged "Noth" Totem Not Much use
• Avriel: Can't Always Tell Purebloods From Non
• Avriel: Flying Humanoid Race
• Becoming: Adapt: Failed First Time Around
• Becoming: Adapt: Follow-up No Better
• Negotiation: Angry Insistence on Good Intent is Ineffective
• Negotiation: Don't Brandish Weapons at a Peace Offering
• Noth: The Guy That Shot Danielle
• NPC: Vern: Noth's Demon Goose
• PC: Noth: One-Winged Avriel Friend of Paplo's
• Running: Trying to Stay Ahead of Vern
• Sociology: Being Nice Actually Pays Off in New Friends
• Sociology: Compliments are Surprisingly Effective
• Stealth: Try Not to Crush the Foliage in Your Path
• Story Telling: Accusations Of Attempted Regicide in Rynmere
• Story Telling: Events in Rynmere
• Story Telling: Meeting Alistair
• Tactics: Meet For a Peace Talk When You Have Advantages

Loot, Loss, injuries, Fame, Devotion:

Nothing to speak of

Comments:

I'm kind of surprised Frid didn't opt to keep the Goose totem, considering how terrified he is of Vern. Btw, you didn't time-stamp this one...tsk, tsk, tsk...
PM me with any comments or concerns