[RQ] a constellation prize

The evening was crisp, cool; but inviting, enticing, all the same. It could be said for both of them, as Deimos marched through the snowy portions, then alternated towards the greenery, his son close behind. On the promise of helping, Erebos had been easily convinced and persuaded into more layers, and despite the temptation to whine or carry on in all the ways of youth, he didn’t seem to mind one bit as they continued traversing. The Sword kept his focus bounding between multitudes; but Belial helped overheard, and Zuriel in between, so they had enough on hand if things became treacherous.

But on a singular breath he watched the warm puffs of air gather into murky little clouds, head tilting to listen for the babble of the stream. The twilight was a stark brilliance on these horizons, and before long they found the watery edges, where constellations could be tucked in between nestled rivulets. “Here looks good,” he offered in a quiet rumble, letting his son work his way over to his side, and the Sword crouched, beginning to grab containers.

deimos

Never let them drain the river of your soul

everything I let go

He'd been easily convinced by the mere thought of going out into the twilight squalls – even if he was inundated with snowpants upon hats upon furs – because there was more than just allure of nature. More than once he’d paused to stare at the skies, constellations, stars, and twinkling abysses overhead; marveling, gaping, mouth open before it turned into a grin. Several times he pointed out portions that looked like streaks of light or images brought forth by the pattern of cosmos, his father nodding along or contributing to the storylines and mythos found in books. They were enamoring rather than sobering, like he could reach out and touch them if he gained wings.

But then there was the Greenwing streams, and he made loud noises in his boots as they walked upon or through the snow – brows furrowing as he saw his father simply walk through like it was nothing. Zuriel snorted from nearby, but he paid her no mind, briefly stumbling, catching himself, then joining Deimos at the Sword’s knees, glancing over the edge of the brook. “This’ll be really cool,” he admitted with a grin; the fervency for any enterprise one of curiosity and youthful aplomb. “How do I catch them?”

Erebos

has claw marks on it

Half a grin slid across his features as he watched and listened to Erebos stumble and bumble his way through the ice and snow. Eventually, the youth would be able to find that solidified grace that all Halovians exhibited across the elements – for now though, he seemed to prosper under that determined, stubborn set to his brow – probably from a combination of both of his parents. Catching onto that zealous energy from his son, he shook his head, amused, before handing over one of the containers. “You watch for a reflection of the sky in the water.” Could be the moon, the glow of the stars, a shooting little cosmic moment – it seemed endless with the water as a mirror, a reflection from above. He took a breath, suddenly very glad that there was so much peace, so much quiet, amidst the interim of Halo and its wake. How far they’d all come to ensure it stayed and remained.

Pointing out a portion he intended to use, he gestured towards the luminary beams along the babbling stream. “See. I can try and catch that one.” Getting closer to the edge, he extended his long reach and dipped the jar below the pieces of the moon; letting the water flow into its vessel. “What do you want to go after?”

deimos

Never let them drain the river of your soul

everything I let go

Concentration a requirement had never been easy for Erebos, but he strived anyway, furrowing his brows and watching as Deimos captured a piece of the sky. It dazzled and reflected from the jar, before it was lifted away, and the boy would have to imagine the reflective glow; just enough to keep him enamored, goaded, and emboldened into striving for himself.

Inching closer to the edge, and certain Deimos wouldn’t let him fall into the rushing, cold stream, he studied the water, the mirror images of the darkened abyss. “Maybe one of those,” and he pointed to an aurora, the blinding hues snagged by the visage to look warped and regal all the same. Crawling outward so that he laid on his stomach, he lowered the jar into the brook, feeling the cold mingle over his hands, but that was all right, because then the water was sliding into the container, filling the vessel with its professed light.

Erebos

has claw marks on it

Far across the frozen expanse, a massive shape moves slowly against the pale horizon. Each step is deliberate, heavy enough that even at a distance the ground seems to feel it. An Ursur.

Its broad back rises and falls beneath a thick coat, frost clinging to its fur as it lumbers onward, head low and shoulders rolling with quiet power. It does not hurry, nor does it stray from its path, existing with the unbothered confidence of something that has little to fear.

Whether it continues on without notice or gradually closes the distance is difficult to judge from so far away. For now, it remains a looming presence, vast and patient, moving steadily through the cold.

---

Ursur Areas Found: Halo — Common These gigantic polar bear-esque creatures boast thick woolly coats and long serrated tusks. They feed primarily on luxere and wayward explorers, but will eat anything that once had a heartbeat. Challenge Rating: Moderate HP: 1,406 | To Hit: +40 | Dmg: 55 Movement: Walk 40 ft.; Swim 20 ft. SPECIAL SKILLS Relentless Appetite: fights on through wounds and fatigue in pursuit of any heartbeat; Tusklike Weapons: serrated tusks inflict deep, bleeding wounds that sap the strength of prey

TRAITS Thick Coat: natural resistance to cold and protection against icy terrain; Keen Smell: can scent living creatures even when hidden or downwind; Powerful Build: immense strength lets them grapple foes ACTIONS Bite: a bone-crushing maw snaps shut with brutal force; Claw: slashing forepaws rake across flesh and gear; Tusk Gore: a deadly tusk strike that can impale and hold a target; Chilling Roar: a thunderous bellow that chills the blood and unnerves nearby creatures

As Erebos chose his spot, Deimos deliberately grabbed hold of the youth’s jacket, ensuring the lad could shimmy outwards without fear of falling in. As the water babbled and drew into the jar, another sound came across the horizon though; and the Sword stilled instantly, body and form a sudden unyielding thing. “Do not move or make a sound,” he whispered – eyes narrowing as he spotted the ursur roaming far off in the distance. A number of calculations reeled through his mind; but the first and foremost would be the protection of his son. Thoughts roamed from a series of plots and machinations in immediate range: he could drop the invisibility cloak on the boy, shield, fight, have Belial cause a distraction –

And then the bear seemed to hasten off, and he loosened a long, long breath from his lungs. The peaceful ambience had been distorted and contorted for him, senses on high alert, eyes roaming, adjusting to Attuned properties in order to catch any other living thing moving across the leagues of snow and greenery. The peryton made an apologetic sound from above; as he clearly hadn’t warned them, or seen it on his own.

Jaw clenching, he sighed again. “Sorry,” he uttered to his son, perhaps only a little grateful that this life lesson came with passing threats.

deimos

Never let them drain the river of your soul

everything I let go

He watched the container fill; innocent, unaware, concentrating solely on his task, so when his father murmured, he did exactly as he was told. Rigid, he could only feel his heart beating through his chest, fast, rampant, wanting to glance upwards to see what was causing the Warden’s alarm – because he’d rarely heard it in his voice – but he did as he was told instead. Still and prone, hand clutching the jar, until the apology came across, and the moment seemed over.

Feeling Deimos lift him back and out of the stream’s range, he glanced at his vessel, then back at the Sword with wide eyes. “Well, I got it,” he gave a sheepish smile, the achievement there despite the panic, the feeling threading through his fingers, not certain how to put it into words, the experience intermingling in the shaking digits underneath, hidden in his gloves. “What was it?”

Erebos

has claw marks on it

Pulling Erebos back from the fringe of the stream, he gave another low breath; not wanting to signify any other apprehensions pulsing through his limbs. “Ursur,” he noted with another rumble, releasing the lad so he could stand up if he so chose now. Grabbing hold of two more containers, he hoped the whole peace and ambience of the evening hadn’t been ultimately destroyed and discarded by one singular roaming bear; but it’d given him too much pause, reflection, and trepidation to parse things out of the serenity. “We can fill these and then head back, if you want,” leaving it up to the youth, clenching his jaw slightly under the guise of moonlight and snow.

Leaning forward again, this time he aimed for a pocket of constellations mimicking dippers and ladles, lowering the vessel until it bubbled and contorted, capturing a portion of the twilight, trying to remember and recall the tranquility from moments before, rather than being wholly on edge.

deimos

Never let them drain the river of your soul

everything I let go

Ursurs, while not as potent as white dragons, were something to be feared in Halo. Despite hearing endless stories of individuals conquering them, there were still the tales filling his mother’s medic halls – of those who had tried to escape or evade the tusked bears, and hadn’t lived to tell the tale. Or been horrendously, horribly wounded, gouged beyond recognition. So he nodded at the statement, half-bothered he hadn’t been able to see it for himself (just for the awe of it), and half-content, grateful, he hadn’t been in its sights.

“Okay,” he uttered with another nod; eyes flickering back up at the sky. It would be flying home after this, companions in tow, taking the safer approach into landing amidst the lit-up Citadel and its fires, its protective walls, its might and legacy. For now, he could appreciate the rest of the stillness and the stars, when things weren’t broken up by dangerous, treacherous outsets. Taking the remaining vessel, he watched his father fill up the other container, striving to make his choice.

Erebos

has claw marks on it

Keeping the container low, he listened to the quiet stillness beyond the stream; senses streamlined and poised now for anything and everything. But Erebos’ dimmed chatter seemed the more discordant; bothered now that the outing had been effectively mauled by a random portion of danger. Or maybe he blamed himself; knowing better. “We can always come back another time,” he offered amidst the silence, breaking it apart with the bestowal. There would be other opportunities; within the daylight, searching for elusive frost foxes amidst their icy calls or clambering about in the greenery, relishing the warm hues against stark ivory.

Pulling the vessel back, he capped it, ensuring it was tight and wouldn’t spill, placing it beside the already filled portions. Turning towards his son, he watched as the lad angled himself towards a cluster of stars, and extended his arm out again, clutching hold of snow pants and jackets so there’d be no fear or lack of support – Erebos was free to stake his claim.

deimos

Never let them drain the river of your soul

everything I let go

He could tell his father was trying to improve the situation, but still, he clutched onto those notions like a promise, brightening at the thought of returning. Maybe he’d be stronger then, not as useless, not as little. Tucking the notions into the back of his mind, the boy nodded, smile brightening at the offer. “And see the frost foxes?” because some of them must’ve been ambling around, even now, watching and spectating under the clear and brilliant sky.

Remembering what he was supposed to be doing, he settled and stretched back along the snowy thresholds, and in the safe clutches of his father’s periphery, slid towards a beautiful line of stars. Above, it was likely one of Safrin’s own constellations – probably someone special from legends, meant to be symbolic and all-encompassing. He shifted the jar underneath its wondrous aspect, listening to the bubbling and absorption of the reflected veneer.

Erebos

has claw marks on it

“And see the frost foxes,” he rumbled in an echo, agreement, and accord. Deimos would’ve offered his family the world if they’d have taken the offer – but he wasn’t built on false convictions either. His bones were carved from determination out of ethers of melancholy; he could grant the notions of journeying back and forth across their realm. Head above the surface, striving to swim and sweep along the tides – these were far simpler, far easier.

When Erebos was finished, Deimos dragged him away from the embankment again, listening to the youth giggle at the movement. Shaking his head, content to hear the sounds of the youth’s jubilation once more, he fixed his eyes upon their containers. “Think we should add anything else to them?” Maybe something along the outside, upon the glass, for more into the symbolics and role Safrin offered to them.

deimos

Never let them drain the river of your soul

everything I let go

Glancing down at the vessels, all lined up neatly and capturing the essence of Safrin’s blessings from the sky, he hesitated at the inquiry. What if they were perfect just the way they were? All Erebos knew of Safrin were moments in his parents’ arms, his father’s tales of her benevolence, of his loyalty, the stretch of her grace across Halo and Torchline –

Ah, so he did know better.

Laughing at himself, he nodded, his grin breaking out over everything else. He supposed if he were a god, he’d want everyone to know him too – the power, the potential, the prowess, right down to every glorifying edge. “Yeah. What about charms or something?” Embedded along the top of the containers, perhaps, over lids and enamel.

Erebos

has claw marks on it

He watched the quick calculations go across the youth’s face; muffling a laugh that threatened to burst through his chest. Nodding at the notions instead, he tilted his head, calculations beginning their usual stirring. The suggestion wasn’t a bad one, and it might’ve combined with the sentiments already rounding their way through his mind.

Committing to them moments later, he turned his palms over as they began to turn gold; the enchantments flickering through boundaries of space and images, outlining the variety of pulsing waves coming to life, to fruition. One by one they funneled into his hands; a silver star pendant, made and shaped like a charm to stick to the cap of a singular container, a brush of constellations tied together by gold, a comet as if appearing through a midnight sky, and then the moon, full and constant. Thereafter, he took the vessels too, so that his fingers contorted galaxies along the outer edges of the glass, images and embodiments of Safrin herself amidst the collected foundations – battling against the Family, calling them to arms in war after war, or the gentle, serene platitudes of her power, raw and real.

Only when he was done did he turn them over for inspection towards the boy. “What do you think?”

deimos

Never let them drain the river of your soul