Personal Quest Raise the Roost
Jigano Silversmith
the Sage
Provost of the Loreseekers Soul Shepherd
Portal Guardian
Age: 36 | Height: 6'2" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 30 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 38 - Luck: 42 - Int:
ISUMA - Mythical - Griffin (Venomous)
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#1
Last year Rory had labored to raise the perch for the Spark Bird, should she choose to bring her light to the Hollowed Grounds during Long Night. Now the time had come to once again assemble the great bird's traditional roost, and Rory had a partner to help him in his work. Admittedly a still-blighted and often snarling partner... but one who was getting a little better every day. While the leatherworker was working hard to make sure the farmstead was ready for Long Night*, Jigano offered to gather the people and resources needed to pull together the main parts of the perch.

Besides, he had a rather personal stake in it this time around, after what had happened last year.

Whether the Spark Bird would come back now that the barrier was down was another question entirely. Loren's ability to summon a temporary bird only added to the uncertainty; whether its light would prevent the real one from returning a concern they had no answer to. At the very least, Jigano hoped, the perch would be a safe place for the summoned Spark Birds to go where they wouldn't burn any houses down in the heart of the Settlement.

Assuming the summoned Spark Birds' light would have the same qualities as a real one, something they wouldn't be able to test until Long Night was upon them...

But it all started with having a perch, and that was a task for many hands. Jigano posted the information to the Notice Board, and on the appointed day he waited in the center of the Sanctuary, in the open square where the perch had been raised for three hundred years. His shaking hands were tucked into his sleeves, and a white fur cloak was wrapped snugly around his shoulders. Blue eyes still showed unsettling lines of black through the veining, a visible mark of his continuing fight against the blight in his blood, but his mind was once again mostly his own, even if his emotions were still sometimes not.


This is a PQ for building a Spark Bird perch! All are welcome, there is no limit!

1. Deimos
2. Hotaru
3. Loren
4.
etc.


*Rory being narrated with permission from Neo
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Warden of Halo / Guildmaster

Age: 33 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Hybrid | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 14 - Strg: 72 - Dext: 72 - Endr: 73 - Luck: 80 - Int: 3
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#2
D e i m o s
Send a heartbeat to the void that cries through you
Relive the pictures that have come to pass
Another preparatory measures and plan for Long Night – the perch – methodical, considering last year’s efforts to ensure it was up, and then the crumbling stories about after, during Long Night. He’d never heard the entirety of the tale, just the result, and frankly, he had no intentions to anyone dying in its breadth again. The structure would be strong. The structure would remain upright. The structure would hold a Spark Bird in its fiery triumph. It had to.

So it wasn’t so much optimism that brought him here, layered and lacquered with tools in his arms, along his belt. He’d somehow misplaced his bag of holding (very unlike him, and the methodical reaches of his mind explored several options, and just hadn’t had time to delve into them). There were axes, hatchets, extra upon extra of their sharpened edges; ensuring if no one else brought their munitions, he’d have enough for all.

Upon his approach though, his jaw set at the sight of Jigano. Last time he’d seen him, the blighted man had been the exact opposite of a bard, of a sage, promising violence upon those he’d cared about. It had been the Sword who’d earned a swift kick to his chest, and the Reaper who had plunged thorns into the equine’s back. His features remained reticent and guarded, waiting for some sort of upheaval, a swift alteration as he approached, the depths of his fathoms scrutinizing, examining, watching for any sign of sedition. “Jigano,” his tone chiseled, a firm head nod as he bent down to arrange his tools, to allow for anyone to grab and utilize. Upon further glance, the Loreseeker appeared healthier, but he would wait to see more actions, more responses, before concluding any of that further. Instead, he waited for the rest to come, proffering his might, his brawn, and whatever else was required.

--

Deimos brings axes, hatchets, and whatever cutting supplies people need! :D
For now we stand alone, the world is lost and blown
And we are flesh and blood disintegrate with no more to hate
Hotaru Kaito
the Valkyrie
Masseuse / Headmistress

Age: 33 | Height: 5'2 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: King's End
Level: 3 - Strg: 38 - Dext: 38 - Endr: 54 - Luck: 40 - Int:
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#3
Hotaru doesn't know much about the gods or traditions of this land. Part of her didn't care to learn, especially with how her life had crumbled so fully at the hands of Gods and their imitations. What she does know, what she cares about, is that LongNight is a time of trepidation and battle in equal measure. The Valkyrie trusts Deimos' word, his urgency, and she falls into step beside him as they journey to confront this looming threat to their family. It is familiar. Comforting in some archaic, carnivorous manner. A threat has been placed before her, and so she shall endeavour to destroy it. Simple.

So when Deimos gathers gear, mountainous frame bowing beneath tools and expectations alike, the maiden arrives in her solitary sense. No longer is she heralded by wolfsong or the roll of thunder, but she keeps faith the he knows her by the way she glides over snow, the strike of her hair or her vixen gaze.

Hotaru follows his directions at a sedate pace, testing her knowledge of the area and vaguely recalling something about a notice to the settlement at large. She is wearing flexible breeches and a thick coat over long sleeves, preparing for a day of labor. The cold does not bother her, even in this fleshy, pathetic form. She is a snowchild after all, just as the Sword is. When Hotaru comes upon them she is in time to see Deimos unburden himself, tools arranged upon the ground, and a single word crumbling terse and tense from his stoic visage.

Oh?

Hotaru slides up beside him, one hand lifting companionably to brush against her brother's shoulder, squeezing gently before trailing away. Though she'd like to linger at his side, there is blood in the water from his tone alone, and she is deathly curious. There is information to be gained here, and it is the type of currency she deals in. Her smile is warm as she approaches Jigano, offering a hand in hopes of shaking. "Pleasure, my name is Hotaru. I assume you're Jigano?" Just enough to break the ice, to settle herself between the two, though Deimos remains solidly at her back. Protected and protector in turn, watching her blind spot while she draws the attention of this curious individual who caused his tone to be so flat.
Hotaru has a passive magic that makes her glow with an internal golden light; it makes her appear youthful and her hair seems to look like moving sunlight. Can only subtly illuminate dark spaces.
the Firebrand
Headmaster / Grand Healer

Age: 29 | Height: 5' 11' | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 11 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 33 - Endr: 35 - Luck: 39 - Int:
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#4



loren
Pretty much the last name that Loren expected to see signed on the Notice Board was Jigano. Granted, the bard wasn’t the only name attached to the note about the perch, but that didn’t change the fact that the white-haired man was blighted and hardly in a position to do anything but attack his former loved ones and those who were trying to help. Still, the handwriting looked familiar. So a morbid curiosity—and a sense that if Jigano went off the deep end, Loren should be there to keep the other man in line—caused him to leave the Manor to go see what, exactly was going on.

Axe in hand, he’d approached the designated gathering spot, though whether he planned to use the axe as a tool or a weapon he couldn’t say. However, he was surprised to see that not only was Jigano there, the bard wasn’t acting hostile in the slightest. Deimos was present as well, along with a woman that the summoner was unfamiliar with. Giving her a curious look, especially since she was by Jigano’s side, the Launceleyn gave the general a nod before Loren took up a position just behind Deimos. It seemed that the general’s mind had gone in a similar direction to the summoner’s, and so he would support the general in whatever he chose to do.

However, Deimos wasn’t attacking, so Loren would hold back as well. Unless the general gave some signal or the bard started acting up the Launceleyn would proceed as if all was well, even though his instincts were screaming that this was likely some trick. Still, between himself and the general, surely they could subdue the bard. If not, they weren’t exactly equipped to be the militia they were supposed to be. The woman, being a stranger, was a wild card, so the summoner watched her as well, wondering who she was and what had brought her here. Still, her proximity to Jigano kept Loren from approaching her.

Whatever else this was, it would be interesting, and a good distraction from all the problems in his life that he was studiously avoiding.
Never judge a book by its cover.
Jigano Silversmith
the Sage
Provost of the Loreseekers Soul Shepherd
Portal Guardian
Age: 36 | Height: 6'2" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 30 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 38 - Luck: 42 - Int:
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#5
Deimos approached first, and Jigano’s jaw tightened imperceptibly at the Sword’s presence. Their history was a fraught one, uneasy at the best of times, and swift to unravel under pressure. He might have been as much to blame for that as the taciturn warrior, but it wasn’t something he particularly wanted to admit to. The blight in his blood made it harder still to be magnanimous, not least because his last memory of the big man was in the Cloister, when the early tendrils of darkness had curved around his heart and guided his sword in a swift attack that had claimed victory.

Well, that wasn’t quite true, but it was the truth as he knew it. An eagle in the snow might have flickered hazily on the jagged edges of his first flash of Deepfrost lucidity, but Deimos was a mage, not an Attuned, of course.

But Deimos had to have seen his name on the bottom of the notice that had been posted, and yet he had come anyways to help. Maybe he had come to help Rory rather than Jigano… but he was here now, and he hadn’t turned around and left yet. Composing himself against the burn of vicious words that thrummed in the back of his throat, Jigano gave the big man a careful nod. ”Deimos,” he greeted back, cool but courteous and at least momentarily in control of his worst impulses.

Ah, and yet the Sword did not arrive alone, nor in the company that Jigano expected. Not Amalia but a different woman walked at his side, petite and deadly-beautiful as she prowled across the snowy ground. The touch she gave – that he accepted – was warning enough of where she stood if lines would be drawn. Deimos was not, in Jigano’s experience, the type for casual touch in the way that Sam or Amalia could be. Was this, then, yet another Helovian refugee, arrived when the blight had reduced him to less than a beast? Her smile was bright as knives in sunlight, and a healthier bard would have relished the testing of rapier wits and genteel greetings. Alas, Jigano was far from at his best, though the offered hand did bring the smallest quirk of a smile to his lips as he gave an apologetic shake of his head. ”No offense meant, Hotaru , but given the blight still in my blood I’ll have to shake your hand another day.” At least he managed a modicum of courtesy to accompany his almost painful bluntness. ”But I am indeed Jigano…”

He trailed off as Loren approached, eyes brightening a little in the hopes of seeing a somewhat-friendly face. The brief moment of optimism fizzled within seconds as the scholar stopped at Deimos’s shoulder, his body language shouting his support of the big man – and his mistrust of the bard, in his unwillingness to approach and the silence that he held still. Was he another that Jigano had attacked in his blight-ridden rage during Deepfrost? The bard didn’t know, but even without the blight he would have felt a cold wash of loneliness at the way the wind blew. With the blight the wind was bitter indeed, sinking sharp fangs into his wounded heart and whispering wicked reminders that all that he was doing was futile, fleeting, hopeless, doomed. He stood alone, as he so often did, and why was he even surprised by that anymore? Had Deimos once more come to take over what the bard had begun? Bringing enough backup to outnumber Jigano after the Attuned had defeated him in combat in the Cloisters? Dark thoughts that tightened his expression as he looked over the two men and the woman who had accompanied the Sword.

To hell with them all, if that was the case. Rory had entrusted this task to him, and he wouldn’t let his mate down.

”We’ll be building the perch a little differently this year,” he said, his voice not merely cool but cold as he turned away from the trio and began walking towards the Woodlands. ”Stronger. But that means bigger post trees, and more of them. Let’s spread out when we reach the Woods – close enough to yell for help, or if you find a likely-looking tree that we can use. We’re going to need three this year – two supports and the crossbeam.” Five might have been better, but with only four people they were going to have enough trouble with just three. ”As big as you think we can drag back to the Sanctuary between us,” he added without glancing back.

He knew he couldn’t do this on his own… but, gods least fortunate, he wished he’d had at least one friend he could trust to have his back join him on this venture heading into the woods with sharp implements.

They reached the Woods quickly enough, and Jigano motioned for the merry band of would-be woodcutters to spread out and start their search for the perfect post trees.



Blight-gano has led you into the Woods and suggested you spread out - surely for no nefarious purpose! What sort of trees do you find that might work?

No posting order this round!
the Firebrand
Headmaster / Grand Healer

Age: 29 | Height: 5' 11' | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 11 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 33 - Endr: 35 - Luck: 39 - Int:
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#6



loren
Well no one had attacked anyone else yet. The Launceleyn took that as a positive sign. Still, as Jigano rattled off his instructions, the summoner kept a wary eye on the little gathering. At this point, he was willing to follow along with the bard’s orders. Or at least try.

Yeah, see Loren wasn’t a woodcutter or strong enough to haul off a tree. Nor was he a builder or a carpenter: he’d been a farmer, and chopped wood, and done minor repairs, but that was about it. Luckily, he had other skills that could help them in this task. So as he made his way into the woods, he wandered a bit aimlessly until he found a tree that looked a little bigger than the rest. Maybe it was an oak? Whatever. Again, trees were not his specialty.

Not even bothering to try and chop it down himself—his talents lay elsewhere—he summoned an ogre. It was an ugly brute, but very, very strong. It took the axe from him and methodically whacked at the base of the trunk at his command. Before too long, the maybe-oak started to topple; before it could go too far, the ogre caught it, then started dragging it carefully back through the edge of the woods, where he assumed they were reassembling. Loren walked by its side.
Never judge a book by its cover.
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Warden of Halo / Guildmaster

Age: 33 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Hybrid | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 14 - Strg: 72 - Dext: 72 - Endr: 73 - Luck: 80 - Int: 3
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#7
D e i m o s
Send a heartbeat to the void that cries through you
Relive the pictures that have come to pass
Deimos’ nonchalance remained firm, taut, and fierce, a feral glimpse of the Helovian beast and king; utterly removed, detached, apathetic – a tethered indifference breaching the lines between Sage and Sword. Any bitterness, any rancor, on his part was not addressed or even bothered with, here entirely for one purpose, and it wasn’t to lance barbs or lacerate more nettles into each other’s skin. It was unfortunate if Jigano felt otherwise, and Deimos proffered not a single outward sign of any other predilections. In fact, his attention waned completely away from the blighted bard, and over to Hotaru, barely smothering a smirk, a chuckle, as she (of all people; mistress of charisma and charm from thief interludes and monarch days) was rebuffed and scorned, cast aside. His eyes flickered to her very briefly, cheeky, before glancing off towards the other newcomer, Loren, granting one of his militia nods, a representation of trust and comradery. Then it seemed their assembly was complete.

His gaze returned to Jigano on the air of instructions, listening keenly, a necessity for a stronger perch – that they could agree on. There was no need for it to topple or be repaired amidst Long Night’s fractious, frenetic nightmares if they constructed it properly (a blistering conviction and aspiration he likely had no right to bestow, but precision had its place, and they could at least try). They required larger trees, massive things to support a fiery bird, and the only issue could’ve been the way they’d drag them all back.

He eyed his wares, then, gilded glow in his palms, concocted and created four lengthy carts, one for each of them, to hopefully bear the weight and breadth of incoming timber. Each were granted handles and some sturdy wheels for meandering over non-existent paths. Before they spread out, the beast proffered the carts, and then set out, determination in his jaw, in his movements, in his entity.

As they pressed into the woods, he strayed away from them, glancing over his shoulder to make a face at Hotaru (impish), leaving his cart beside a smaller tree, ax in hand. Then he shifted, feathers and plumage, wings and talons, ascending straight into canopies, munitions tucked into his grasp, where he could search quicker, a more efficient approach, pinpointing locations and requirements, hoping to find some timber already felled, so he wouldn’t have to maul something still living. As luck would have it, there happened to be one resting in a copse, having pulled down a number of others in the glade, an opening of sunshine pressing in on fallen snow.  It was likely just wide and tall and sturdy enough to handle some bulk and power, and as he landed, shifting back to his human form, he checked to ensure it hadn’t been rotted or decayed. Perhaps this one had plummeted recently; no sign of its doom or damnation except maybe poor fortune.

He swung his ax overhead, separating the tipped stump from the rest of the log, then worked on pulling, dragging, and rolling the tree back to his cart. Muscles and might rippled beneath, content to be at work, ensuring it could reach his makeshift vehicle and be taken back to the edge of the forest.

--

Deimos has created carts for everyone, if they wish to use them to haul out trees. He shifts to his eagle form, finds a tree, and then shifts back to separate it from its stump, and haul it out of the forest with his cart.
For now we stand alone, the world is lost and blown
And we are flesh and blood disintegrate with no more to hate
Hotaru Kaito
the Valkyrie
Masseuse / Headmistress

Age: 33 | Height: 5'2 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: King's End
Level: 3 - Strg: 38 - Dext: 38 - Endr: 54 - Luck: 40 - Int:
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#8
The cool reply to Deimos' single-word greeting is just another stroke of pleasure to the catlike woman. Ohoho, interesting indeed. She will have to sit Deimos down and get all the juicy details about this particularly interesting man. Or as juicy as the stoic man could manage, the absolute bore. The slender man is receptive enough as she approaches, his smile fleeting but decent enough, and though she pouts slightly at him for rebuffing her she can't help the sly smile on her lips and the dark hood of her eyes. "What a shame," she purrs, dropping her hand but moving a step closer, eyes raking down Jigano's frame before slowly rising to his eyes once more. "You do have such lovely hands. I look forward to being able to feel them next time." Ohh, and how she has missed this. The flirtation, the teasing, placing herself stubbornly in the way of people who intrigue her.

Of course the next man approaches, just as silent and tense as Deimos, and the chill that emanates from Jigano in turn only makes her roll her eyes and toss her hair as she turns and begins walking towards the other two. "Really, must we? There is far too much posturing here, suck it up boys. Time to play nice." And with that - and barely listening to what Jigano says, because she's really just here because Deimos finds it important - she turns and winks at the newcomer and then promptly follows Deimos to where he is creating his fancy little carts.

His smug, impish smile makes her wrinkle her nose at him in childlike mockery. When he gets close enough she slaps ineffectually at his broad chest, though her lips break into an amused grin moments later. It is pretty funny after all. When was the last time she was so directly snubbed? At least she can blame the Blight this time.

Following after Deimos is second nature, no matter how curious she is about the other two. They'll all convene soon enough, and Hotaru can be very patient when needed. Watches him shift into a beautiful, large bird and watches with a rare awed smile as he ascends through the sky to the top of the tree he has chosen. The magic of this land is so very different, but Hotaru is glad that he has found some sort of balance and happiness for himself now. She trails after his flighted form for a while, long enough to see him land and transform back - with clothes still on, damn it all - before she hefts her own axe and begins to hunt for her own tree nearby.

Hotaru may have been a fantastic fighter in Helovia, but this form did not have the same oomph. Nonetheless she finds a tree that is both girthy enough for their endeavor, and one that is already slightly thinned by what appears to be bear or big cat scratches. Humming a small tune to herself, she begins to swing her axe, reveling in the light sweat that starts up on her skin, the familiar burn of work in her muscles. Small but mighty, after all.
Hotaru has a passive magic that makes her glow with an internal golden light; it makes her appear youthful and her hair seems to look like moving sunlight. Can only subtly illuminate dark spaces.
Jigano Silversmith
the Sage
Provost of the Loreseekers Soul Shepherd
Portal Guardian
Age: 36 | Height: 6'2" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 30 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 38 - Luck: 42 - Int:
ISUMA - Mythical - Griffin (Venomous)
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#9
Hotaru ‘s flirtation sparked conflicting feelings of mistrust and amused pleasure in the bard. Mistrust, for the blight was very, very good at making even the words of allies feel like insults, and she was still a stranger. Pleasure, for the positive attention was welcome, even if it brought up the nostalgic memories of Edrei’s flirtations with him over his first seasons on Caido. ”I hope that I will be able to greet you in better state next time as well, lady Hotaru,” he murmured sincerely. Even her attitude as she tried to order them about was reminiscent of Edy, though without the vulgarity that would have accompanied such a statement, and some of the bard’s temper shifted towards melancholy as the blight fed and amplified his darker emotions, regardless of their source.

Not wanting anyone to waste magic needlessly when they might need it for fighting off some of Caido’s less friendly beasties, Jigano had intended for them to chop trees down the old-fashioned way. He had thought they would simply find good trees, call each other over, knock them down, and drag each tree back between the four of them. He had planned on using his horse form to add a little muscle to the proceedings and knew that Deimos was plenty strong enough to shift heavy things alongside him. With Hotaru and Loren to smooth the path ahead and guide them around obstacles, and the snow to more easily slide the trunks over, he had thought they would be able to manage things fairly efficiently.

He should have been less caught up in his blight-fueled brooding and more clear in his plans, perhaps.

”The wheels will sink into the snow,” he’d said quietly to Deimos, once he realized what the Sword was doing with the carts. ”In this season we’ll want runners on them. Sledges, to glide over the snowpack. Snow shoes so we don’t sink as well trying to pull them, and harnesses rather than handles, so we can get our full strength into the hauling.” His home of Numeria had been largely flat, a tundra to the north, and Jigano had helped his father drag his forge-wares to market in the winter on such sledges his entire childhood. The chill was still in his voice, but it was a few degrees warmer than the ice at the Sanctuary as he saw how Deimos was not merely present, but actively trying to help.

As they parted ways he missed Deimos’s transformation, and Loren heading off alone. The bard went his own way, walking the familiar Woods at a slight angle from Hotaru and trying to remember where he had seen a perfect crossbeam bole…

The sounds of axes rang out through the quiet winter woodland and the bard paused to groan. No one had called out that they’d found a tree. Not one. They were going to end up with posts of different thicknesses and woods at this rate, each pursuing their own separate find without communication, and he gave up his own search to jog towards the source of the noise and see what was going on.

Two sources of chopping had already stopped by the time he found the closest; Hotaru was hard at work, and he paused to catch his breath before approaching. ”It looks like a sturdy pine,” he said approvingly. ”Shall I start weakening the other side? It should go down faster with both of us making a dent in it.” Indeed, beneath his heavy cloak and loose sleeves the bard was lean and lacked Deimos’s obvious strength. Combined with the shaking of his blight-stricken hands, he looked like he needed help more than Hotaru did. If the lady was kind enough to agree, he would set to work with his own axe, the two of them falling into a steady rhythm that soon had the tree falling towards a clearing with a creak, a groan, and a thunderous crash into the snow.

Loren ’s chopping had been first and loudest, with the ogre’s strength backing the axe. The metal cut into the wood far more easily than the mage might have guessed, sinking deep and having to be muscled back with each swing. Though his summoned beast was by far the most efficient at taking down a living tree, luck was not on the mage’s side. As the tree toppled the odor of decay pervaded the area around the cut ends of the bole, revealing heartwood gone black with rot. With no leaves in winter to reveal how far the disease had progressed it had been invisible on the outside, but the tree he was dragging back to the edge of the Woods would likely crumble under the weight of the crossbeam, or the Sparkbird herself.

Deimos had picked a tree that was only recently fallen and may have been sound, but it was also still inhabited. As his axe impacted the tree an angry hooting came from a hole towards the top of the trunk, though it now lay propped up by some of the smaller trees the fallen giant had taken with it. A great horned owl burst from the cavity in a flurry of wings and feathers and she dove at Deimos’s head with murder in her large golden eyes and sharp talons while a second tufted head poked out of the hole in concern for his mate, one wing held against his body at an awkward angle.



Jigano joins Hotaru and they manage to fell a tree! Time to start taking those branches off so it can be dragged back.
Loren(‘s ogre) chops a tree down, but his luck (roll) wasn’t with him and the tree is rotten!
Deimos finds a good tree, but it’s already in use and he's attacked by an angry Great Horned Owl!

Post Order:
1. Deimos
2. Loren
3. Hotaru
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Warden of Halo / Guildmaster

Age: 33 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Hybrid | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 14 - Strg: 72 - Dext: 72 - Endr: 73 - Luck: 80 - Int: 3
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#10
D e i m o s
Send a heartbeat to the void that cries through you
Relive the pictures that have come to pass
All right, fair, fine, Deimos could admit to Jigano being right on this particular angle with the carts. What had begun as being helpful apparently made more work for him, mindless of the notions that perhaps others couldn’t simply drag their wares with sheer strength through the snow, as he would.  He sighed at the missteps, fought off the notion of sneering at himself, and molded his features into nonchalance as he adhered to adjusting each cart, adding runners to the bottoms. The harnesses were attached too, the handles left there just in case there was some easy pulling to do. If no one wanted to utilize them, that was fine too, but they’d all been adapted and accommodated accordingly.

More trials and tribulations were on his side, because sometimes good fortune in his antics and tactics were difficult to find (suddenly a preference for the battlefield slid through his mind – at least he knew what he was doing out there, maiming, destroying). Despite the tree being in good shape, it was already inhabited, occupied, and the owl contained within was none too pleased with his meddling surrounding their home. He had only half a moment to duck from her sharp talons, maneuvering quickly, grazed a little on his shoulder, but with the thickness of his garments for the season, they only dug into strands of fabric. Granting the horned owl a wide berth, he slunk over to some other trees to contemplate his options, and possibly get out of her range.

There was always the possibility to life draining the animals and settling the matter quickly – cold, cruel, and callous – but the predilections were put along the back of his mind as soon as his eyes glanced over at the second owl, clearly injured, the female’s intentions clear – protecting and shielding the other. He frowned. No point in trying to move them either, it would likely do more harm than good. So he sighed again, irritated and irked at himself for arriving to help and only making things more ineffectual, bellowing across the woods as he likely should’ve done earlier. Maybe the loud rumbling from his throat would be enough to deter; weren’t they afraid of deafening noises? “Found a tree.” He paused, tilting his head, still studying the situation. “And some owls.” Perhaps someone else would have sound advice for his next steps, or he’d be forced to find another capable piece of timber.

--

Deimos adjusts the carts so they now have runners to go over the snow and harnesses. He ducks away from sharp owl talons, and calls loudly to the others, hoping it might force the birds to fly away.
For now we stand alone, the world is lost and blown
And we are flesh and blood disintegrate with no more to hate
the Firebrand
Headmaster / Grand Healer

Age: 29 | Height: 5' 11' | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 11 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 33 - Endr: 35 - Luck: 39 - Int:
ASTRA - Mythical - Luxere
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Posts: 5,165 | Total: 9,913
MP: 3415
#11



loren
Loren wasn’t a woodcutter, no, but he also wasn’t an idiot. So it didn’t take him long to notice that the tree he’d selected was, well, falling apart. He ordered the ogre to halt so he could take a closer look at the tree. Sure enough, when he examined it more closely he saw the tell-tale signs of rot. Sighing, he ordered the ogre to lower it to the ground and chop it into smaller pieces; at the very least he could do what he could to help the natural process along a little bit.

However, he was distracted from his actions by the shouting. It sounded like Deimos, and it sounded even more like the general might need some help. If that was the case, the summoner’s next steps were clear. He ordered the ogre to scoop him up, one-handed, the axe in the other, and then told it to sprint towards the distant shouting.

It didn’t take long to find the source of the problem. Loren frowned at the sight, using every ounce of training to make sure that there wasn’t any immediate danger. If anything, it was kind of a funny sight, big strong tough guy Deimos fending off an owl. Still, the Launceleyn should probably help out. After getting set down and taking the axe he dismissed the ogre. ”Can you weaken them with your life drain? If you do, we can relocate them safely and then I can heal them.” Of course, the summoner didn’t know if Deimos was capable of anything less than nonlethal actions, nor did he know how the owls would react to being removed from their home. "I'd rather not kill them. They're just defending their home. And each other." The injured owl made his heart ache a little bit.

----

Loren goes to Deimos and offers to work together to clear out the owls.
Never judge a book by its cover.
Hotaru Kaito
the Valkyrie
Masseuse / Headmistress

Age: 33 | Height: 5'2 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: King's End
Level: 3 - Strg: 38 - Dext: 38 - Endr: 54 - Luck: 40 - Int:
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#12
His sincerity is unexpected but received in stride, and she tilts her chin and slices a coy smile his way. "I suppose I'll have to be patient then, pity," Hotaru tuts softly, but she's easily turned away from her prey to the posturing at hand. Really, men. They had been the bane of her existence as a ruler, and they remain that way even now. Women didn't have as much of a problem comparing 'sizes', not when they were hanging off the front of their chests. And of course none of the cowards would drop drawers in this particular weather and allow her to be a particularly enthusiastic, impartial judge.

They're a confused little bunch, and it's like herding cats to get them all on relatively the same page, but they end up where they need to be in the end. And oh, joy of joys, she gets the handsome man at her assistance not long after she finds her own tree. "You know what they say about two hands being better than one," she teases, but happily gestures for him to take the other side. The work is far faster with their swings syncing up, and soon enough the pine is felled and ready to be hauled out of the forest. Not that she can really help with that particular part, so she revels in the sweat she has worked up and catches her breath for a moment.

It's quiet, intensive work, but if Jigano feels the need to speak she certainly wouldn't snub him for it. Poor guy seemed like he needed the ego bolster after getting the twin stare-shakedown from earlier. Which she had admittedly found very amusing, but her alliance could be temporarily bought for the pretty and the powerful. With steady hands she swings her axe once more, beginning to cut the limbs off so it will slide easier on the snow when they haul it out.
Hotaru has a passive magic that makes her glow with an internal golden light; it makes her appear youthful and her hair seems to look like moving sunlight. Can only subtly illuminate dark spaces.
Jigano Silversmith
the Sage
Provost of the Loreseekers Soul Shepherd
Portal Guardian
Age: 36 | Height: 6'2" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 30 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 38 - Luck: 42 - Int:
ISUMA - Mythical - Griffin (Venomous)
Played by: Cirago Offline
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#13
As Deimos retreated from the tree the owl ceased her attacks and circled back to her mate, but she remained standing on the bole and glaring at the warrior, clearly ready to attack again if he came too close. His shouting upset her and she flew up a little ways, circling in distress, but she wouldn’t leave her companion, and he ducked back into the hole in the trunk to hide from Deimos’s rumbling shout. The circling female dropped back down again as soon as the echoes had faded and she perched again, feathers bristled and fluffed out to try and make herself as intimidating as possible against this roaring predator who threatened her home.

She mantled and hooted warningly as the ogre approached, shaking the ground with its steps, but when Loren made no attempt to get close (and the ogre disappeared), she settled back into her wary watchfulness. Her mate came a little further out of the hole in the trunk to support her, and it was obvious that his wing had been broken – likely in the tree’s recent fall, before Deimos had arrived. There were no eggs to worry about in this season, but even if she were inclined to find a new home it was clear that the injured male had no such option. Riled as they were, they weren’t likely to go quietly either way, but as long as the two men didn’t try to approach the tree the owls made no effort to attack them further. The male seemed calmer than his mate, or perhaps he was simply more dazed by pain. Either way the threat was clearly in her sharp talons and wicked beak, while he seemed more confused and frightened.



Hotaru and Jigano had a quieter tree, and though Deimos’s voice called out through the woods, the ogre’s unsubtle footsteps had the bard cocking his head ruefully. ”Surely between the two of them they can move a nest?” It wasn’t an entirely facetious question; he’d already seen Loren do miracles with his magic, and Deimos was notoriously self-sufficient. However bruised his feelings had been by their arrival, it wasn’t their abilities he doubted.

The lady’s joke brought the sad, wistful smile back to his face, and he nodded at her teasing, his heart twisting hard in his chest with loss. ”I have heard that before, yes,” he agreed softly. The work made a welcome distraction and direction to pour his emotions into, tiring him pleasantly and blunting the blight even though his shaking hands made his axe strokes less than perfect in their accuracy. Luckily Hotaru had better aim, and soon enough they had a tree down that was more than tall enough for their purposes. ”You know…” he mused thoughtfully as they rested and admired their work. ”We could probably just take the bottom twenty-five feet or so of this old pine.” Hotaru had been lucky in her choice of victim, the tree sound and strong, as was clear from its newly-revealed growth rings. It was at least thrice that tall, and at the midway point still thick and strong. Better yet, there were only a few branches lower down, most of the lower half of the tree being fairly straight and clean. ”Use half for a post, and the rest for the crossbeam.”

Since Hotaru was already cutting the few limbs that would get in their way, Jigano steeled himself and set to work chopping where he had indicated, severing the trunk so that they would have an easier time taking the timber out. ”Could you… cut it in half... from this point??” He grunted in between swings, nodding to the point halfway between his own growing notch and the base they had already severed. ”It will be a lot easier to carry out, if we only take what we need.” Even in his horse form he wouldn’t have been able to haul a whole tree that large out by himself!

Maybe it was the heat she’d worked up, or maybe it was the soothing rhythm of their work, but from an overhanging branch of a neighboring tree, a slender length descended to plop onto Hotaru ‘s shoulders, trying to wriggle into the warmth of her coat through whatever opening the little hanging snake could reach.



Deimos and Loren have teamed up vs. the Owls! Can teamwork make the dream work?
Jigano and Hotaru have made good progress and have obtained one whole tree! And Hotaru has found a … friend?

Posting Order:

1. Deimos
2. Loren
3. Hotaru
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Warden of Halo / Guildmaster

Age: 33 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Hybrid | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 14 - Strg: 72 - Dext: 72 - Endr: 73 - Luck: 80 - Int: 3
BELIAL - Mythical - Peryton (Blend) ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Online
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#14
D e i m o s
Send a heartbeat to the void that cries through you
Relive the pictures that have come to pass
The Sword hadn’t intended to rip anyone away from their tasks, and stood there befuddled, perplexed, and somewhat asinine; no amount of calculations, experience in felling trees, or molding ineffectual endeavors had lent him into this experience. Loren arrived, and though Deimos waited for some round of laughter, it didn’t come. Appreciative of that, he refined his notions back into the fold, nodding, concurring, and sighing. “Agreed. And I do not want to life drain them.” It wasn’t their fault that he’d chosen their safeguard to utilize as a part of a perch, and the owls reminded him of Amalia – so he shook his head, drawing his mouth into a line, machinations resurfacing as he watched the male struggle (he chose not to dive into any further reflections on that part; he’d replayed his efforts in Spires and other stupid motions too many times already). “Can you heal from afar?” He wasn’t sure about the particular details of healing, mending, or assuaging (his skills were nowhere near soothing measures; drawn and sketched upon opposites with their parallels of death) – if it required touch, or if it was like Zuriel’s, uninhibited, strong, capable of being forged and extended without need of finesse or strokes. His own incantations and enchantments didn’t need any of these sentiments – just the immersion of power and prowess. “If the male is mended, safe, and secure, perhaps they can fly off together.” If that didn’t work, maybe he could create something…
For now we stand alone, the world is lost and blown
And we are flesh and blood disintegrate with no more to hate


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