Training opposites detract
Loren Launceleyn
Citadel Grand Healer

Age: 22 | Height: 5' 11' | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 7 (level 5 Attuned) - Strg: 15 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 23 - Luck: 29
ASTRA - Mythical - Luxere
Played by: Crooked Offline
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#1
LOREN
Alright, well, now that they’d made it through LongNight, it was past time to figure out what was going on with his magic. His encounter with Oia’i’o had provided explanations, but not answers. Enough was enough. Loren needed to get his summoning under control, or, if not, needed to figure out what other gifts he had. After all, his magic had been growing in leaps and bounds since he’d returned from his mental breakdown; he’d decided at some point during the week of darkness to stop holding himself back for fear of hurting others. That applied to every aspect of his life.

Of course, in order to stop holding himself back, he had to find out his limits first. So he’d sent a note to Deimos asking the other man to meet at the Oasis for training and evaluation; while the Launceleyn didn’t anticipate things getting out of hand, he wanted somewhere remote where they could contain any damage and prevent any potential onlookers or gawkers from getting hurt. It was past time for the General to find out what his subordinate were capable of, and that required an environment where they could both cut loose. Perhaps they’d both learn something today.

Although the summoner had brought his staff, he wasn’t holding it at the moment. Instead, he had leaned it against a nearly tree and was seated in a cross-legged position, meditating. While it wasn’t necessary for him to access his magic anymore—the days of his spellcasting being weak and paltry were far behind him—it still steadied his nerves. Deimos had a well-deserved reputation as a fighter and Loren, for all his power, well didn’t. Although he knew he was strong and had been trained, he’d been in very few actual fights, especially in Caido. Time to find out what he was made of. Astra was nowhere to be seen. Although luxere guarded against dark magic in some way the summoner didn't quite understand, today it would be the Launceleyn alone against the General.
but I've been down here before
and I know the way out
Force and magic can be used against Loren without permission.
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Militia General of the Hollowed Grounds / Guildmaster

Age: 26 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 8 - Strg: 28 - Dext: 28 - Endr: 33 - Luck: 27
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
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#2
Change everything you are and everything you were
Your number has been called
Loren’s note served as a fitting gesture to the end of LongNight – a time, a moment, to explore abandoned configurations, to unravel from his restless ends, a loosening of tethers and lines, and perhaps just a notion to expend and expel the incantations seething in his blood. Frustration after frustration coiled its way into his form, and this might’ve been an opportunity to breathe – in ruin, in oblivion, in multitudes of mayhem, familiarity in the barbaric interludes of unleashed vitriol and vehemence. It wouldn’t be the same without some layered background of hate or abhorrence, Deimos bid Loren no ill will, but the invitation was enough to settle him along the path to the Oasis, bag of holding on his back in case of necessary supplies, Zuriel at his side in case things unraveled.

Constant preparation; even when it never really mattered.

The Sword arrived, neither stalking nor predatory, but a fervent exposition to the way he maneuvered, as if ready, eager, for some sweep of a challenge, to find his fellow militia member, party of two accounted for, leaning against a tree, quiet, a meditative pose and trance invoked. His eyes flickered briefly to Zuriel, who snorted some indignant measure, before he placed his satchel down, the slightest motion drawing movement and noise amongst the grass; approach announced before his voice. “Loren,” he proclaimed, waiting for the other man to either rise or ensue their terms, their breaking points.
DEIMOS
Loren Launceleyn
Citadel Grand Healer

Age: 22 | Height: 5' 11' | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 7 (level 5 Attuned) - Strg: 15 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 23 - Luck: 29
ASTRA - Mythical - Luxere
Played by: Crooked Offline
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#3
LOREN
It didn’t take long for Deimos to show up. As soon as the summoner saw the other man, he sprang to his feet. ”Thanks for coming.” Remembering that the General was sparing with his words, the Launceleyn figured the fewer he employed, the better; luckily, it wouldn’t take long to set the terms. ”Anything goes?” That was how training had always been with Loren growing up. While he’d willfully held himself back since his return, no more. He was done letting other people dictate the course of his life. If Deimos wanted to set less stringent terms for their spar, though, the summoner would agree to them.

Either way, he retreated to a safe distance. He would fight without arms (though there were some magical items tucked into his belt), just with his magic: the whole point of this exercise was to discover how powerful he’d grown. After all, if Zariah was indeed coming back, the most likely outcome was the time honored Launceleyn tradition of a magician’s duel, to prove who was more powerful and worthy of leading the family. While it was the last thing he wanted, Loren figured she’d leave him no choice. She wasn’t the type to admit she was wrong or to back down from a fight.

Best to practice, then. He gestured for the General to make the first move. The summoner settled into a defensive stance as he waited to see how the other man would move or attack. Already, magic tingled at the Launceleyn’s fingertips and he could feel the icy cool of battle creeping over him. This was what he’d trained his whole life to do, and his blood sang in anticipation.
but I've been down here before
and I know the way out
Force and magic can be used against Loren without permission.
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Militia General of the Hollowed Grounds / Guildmaster

Age: 26 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 8 - Strg: 28 - Dext: 28 - Endr: 33 - Luck: 27
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
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#4
Change everything you are and everything you were
Your number has been called
Anything goes was a multitude of things – varnished memories stoked behind his eyes of wars, of invasions, where they summoned munitions from their souls and met one another as colossal figures; contempt and abhorrence, wrath and demolition, desecration and ruin, a wreckage curled from his stoked fineries. No loathing here though, no basking weight of menace or malice, enmity and hostility to unfurl from his veins. It would be an exercise in their either precision, control, or the factions and crackle of dominion between them. “Let me know when you have had enough.” The barest hint of a ruse, of a smile, of a snicker, laden in those words.

He watched as the summoner brought himself to a safer distance, as they were positioned along the oasis lines of water and sun, tucked amidst fronds and trees and some contortion of flattened land to suit their purpose. All the while, the unrelenting supremacy of his incantations seared and smoldered in their callous depths, awakened by the chase, by the pursuit, by the possibility of violence and vehemence. Only since his chase with Roana, as she leapt towards the Greatwood, as he leered and leaned into strangling conflagrations, had been his last exploits; other than the fire, the inferno, seething behind his eyes.

He knew war. He knew battle. He knew disaster and ruin and everything laden in between.

And he wouldn’t hold back.

The quiet, hushed slip of pulsing demise sinuously bent and unwound from his figure; a silent, stealthy regard in its quick, swift motions, cool and disastrous, entangled and unleashed its way towards Loren’s form – a stoked finality so familiar it was like an old friend, death born alongside his wretched eaves and infinite, diabolical whims. Life drain; no warning signs given except its maddening persistence, one brow lifted while his stance maintained a defensive maneuver, waiting to see Loren’s rebuttal.
DEIMOS
Loren Launceleyn
Citadel Grand Healer

Age: 22 | Height: 5' 11' | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 7 (level 5 Attuned) - Strg: 15 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 23 - Luck: 29
ASTRA - Mythical - Luxere
Played by: Crooked Offline
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Posts: 3,507
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#5
LOREN
The corners of Loren’s lips quirked up. Someone was cocky. ”You too.” The General might be a pretty powerful mage, that much was true. But so was the summoner. And he’d been fighting more powerful mages than him all his life. So he knew a few tricks that maybe even the other man hadn’t seen. First, though, the Launceleyn needed to get a better handle on Deimos’ abilities.

As the energy and strength started leeching out of Loren, his eyebrows raised. Life drain was a pretty predictable opening move. Thankfully, it was easy enough to counter. Retreating swiftly—though his steps were controlled—he tried to put enough distance between them to prevent the other man from draining the summoner further. At the same time, he called upon his healing magic. Unlike the General’s magic, the Launceleyn’s manifested as a soft sky-blue glow suffusing his whole body. As quickly as Deimos damaged Loren, the damage was repaired, or close enough that it didn’t matter.

However, best defense was a good offense and all that. Without giving any outward sign, a unicorn appeared in front of the General. It came into the world charging, horn lowered to try and impale the other man in his right leg. People thought of unicorns as healers and beautiful majestic creatures. They were. However, they were also big fucking horses with horns on their head. Still, the summoner didn’t want to do too much damage (the other man didn’t heal as easily or as completely). That being said, the Launceleyn also wasn’t going to let Deimos just stand there and take shots at Loren.
but I've been down here before
and I know the way out
Force and magic can be used against Loren without permission.
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Militia General of the Hollowed Grounds / Guildmaster

Age: 26 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 8 - Strg: 28 - Dext: 28 - Endr: 33 - Luck: 27
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
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Posts: 1,613
MP:
#6
Change everything you are and everything you were
Your number has been called
Healing; as if nothing were deterred, ruffled, or bothered. There were a few moments where he wondered at the novelty of it; if the mending, soothing efforts wasted some portion of endurance too, if Loren should’ve saved it for later, later, later, when the skirmish was over, or if he’d never felt the pull of exhaustion and fatigue of too much. The Sword knew the pulse, understood its depths when he’d been slowly withering away in the Spire, exhausted and blown apart.

Deimos missed the potency of the deadly enchantments from Helovia, the lengths and damage it could cause; grateful for all of it embroiled in his form, but still greedy, avaricious enough, for the opportunities of devastation and malice. That wasn’t here or there, truly, now; Loren wasn’t an adversary, but a comrade, fellow man at arms, testing out abilities – where they were, how far they had to go.

The unicorn’s appearance wasn’t wholly unexpected; though he didn’t have a chance to turn a mocking eye towards Zuriel – he could feel her disdain from yards away. A swift charge, head bowed, the horn upon its brow like a sword, apparent laceration in order – but Deimos was entirely aware of their capabilities, of their speed, of their precision, and had no intention of permitting his frame to take such a hit.

So he shifted abruptly, wings and plumage – the unicorn might’ve gotten a swipe at tail feathers, tawny and sienna bombardments, but otherwise remained out of harm’s way due to flight and machinations. Sharp and keen, his intentions were to swiftly plummet behind Loren, then return to his regular figure. Broad and sturdy, he settled upon the ground, and reached for the next assemblage of incantations, the sizzle of fire, last utilized to take the entire Monster Hunter’s Guild down, monsters and everything else within. It was a crackle on his palms, a sizzle in his hands, a choking, rapacious conflagration, attempts unfurling towards the summoner, and several other embers emblazoned in the unicorn’s direction. Somewhere in their connection, Zuriel sneered.
DEIMOS
Loren Launceleyn
Citadel Grand Healer

Age: 22 | Height: 5' 11' | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 7 (level 5 Attuned) - Strg: 15 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 23 - Luck: 29
ASTRA - Mythical - Luxere
Played by: Crooked Offline
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#7
LOREN
As Deimos took to the skies to avoid the unicorn’s charge, Loren’s eyes widened. He hadn’t been aware that the other man had been changed in that matter, and it caused the summoner to falter for a precious moment. Oh sure, he still kept his healing going (though he dismissed the unicorn as useless) and turned to keep track of the General, but the Launceleyn simply stumbled back from Deimos as he landed.

However, Loren recovered quickly enough: seeing as he wanted to keep the General from taking to the skies once more, the Launceleyn called upon his summoning once more. An enormous bird, a harpy eagle, in fact, appeared in the air above the other man’s head. The summoner ordered it to swoop down, talons attempting to rake at the other man’s head.

Then, though, Deimos displayed yet another power that Loren hadn’t been aware of; fire spilled from the other man’s hands and streaked towards the summoner. He felt his eyes widen again, but that was nothing compared to the power that flared deep within. The Launceleyn had a few tricks up his sleeve as well, which was why he didn’t even more from his spot.

Instead, with an effort of his will and his magic—magic that new to him, though more than welcome—the water from the Oasis exploded into the air. It rushed to intercept the bolts of flame from the General, but it didn’t stop there. Instead, a wave rolled across the ground, with steam at its front, streaking straight towards Deimos. Loren had dropped the healing, since the effort of maintaining the summoning and the water was difficult enough.
but I've been down here before
and I know the way out
Force and magic can be used against Loren without permission.
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Militia General of the Hollowed Grounds / Guildmaster

Age: 26 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 8 - Strg: 28 - Dext: 28 - Endr: 33 - Luck: 27
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
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Posts: 1,613
MP:
#8
Change everything you are and everything you were
Your number has been called
His own version of summoning, compelling, that he’d yet to fully grasp or understand, lurched from the scene in the form of three medium sized birds, flying straight for the harpy eagle. He ducked away as claws and talons raked at his head, the sharp gestures digging along the side of his face, scratches and cuts that could be mended when everything was complete. While the cuts bled, the other birds attempted to distract the eagle, obnoxious efforts granted in trying to pluck at feathers, at its head, or anywhere else they could reach.

Meanwhile, the fire still extended from his tempestuous whims, ignoring the ichor sliding down his face, his gaze catching over the widening of Loren’s eyes (surprise, befuddlement, or just caught unawares?). Then there were other nuances and noises, and he glanced along his shoulder to watch the rush of the Oasis exploding into the air, the water pummeling, funneling, towards him, fire extinguished in its berth and haste. Waves with embellished steam foamed and frothed towards him, and with utmost appreciation for other efforts and powers, he smirked.

In another time, in another place, he might have admired the ability, the notions of control of the potent substance – how his mother had employed similar efforts, how Huyana had manifested the rain – but it wasn’t the right opportunity to savor the juncture of seas and water. Instead, he shifted again, hoping to be out of the harpy eagle’s sights, rising back into the air to avoid the massive tide rolling its potent way, sweeping turns, gliding armaments from above, waiting for the next opportunity to strike.
DEIMOS
Loren Launceleyn
Citadel Grand Healer

Age: 22 | Height: 5' 11' | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 7 (level 5 Attuned) - Strg: 15 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 23 - Luck: 29
ASTRA - Mythical - Luxere
Played by: Crooked Offline
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#9
LOREN
Alright, well, they were evenly matched so far. However, the summoner wasn’t going to give up so easily. Deimos might be more experienced, but Loren had about twenty-two years of pent up aggression and magic, and he was incredibly eager to prove himself in this new world. While he’d showed off parts of what he could do, this was the first time he was cutting loose with the whole breadth of his power.

And he had a whole new magic to play with: the water leapt and danced easily at his call. Indeed, the Launceleyn found himself grinning wildly as he saw the General retreating once more. Again, the summoner let him, but this time he wouldn’t allow the other man to land so easily or get close. Instead, he called back the wave, bringing it coursing back to him, instinctively cooling the steam, causing it to fall down as water. He took a moment to dismiss the harpy eagle, since it had been effectively neutralized and he'd need his whole focus for what came next. He brought the whole mass of liquid up over him in a dome; it wasn’t the full range he could reach, he knew that, but he made it thick, choosing the small area over a more potent defense.

Then he sent the dome spinning, fast enough to deflect any projectile or animal that Deimos might choose to send Loren’s way. However, he wasn’t done yet; as the general banked for another attack, the Launceleyn felt icicles growing in his hands. Icicles that he sent coursing towards the General. They pierced the dome easily and he kept up a steady stream of them, trying to at least deter Deimos from approaching.
but I've been down here before
and I know the way out
Force and magic can be used against Loren without permission.
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Militia General of the Hollowed Grounds / Guildmaster

Age: 26 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 8 - Strg: 28 - Dext: 28 - Endr: 33 - Luck: 27
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
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Posts: 1,613
MP:
#10
Change everything you are and everything you were
Your number has been called
Deimos hadn’t been one to maneuver or wield dual enchantments at once. Not often, at least; occasionally forging a sword with life drain infused into its breadth, but the notion had been few and far between, unnecessary. Loren seemed to employ the strategy efficiently, and the beast made a casual note of it in the back of his mind – perhaps the summoner was simply in ample supply of raw energy, endurance, and fortitude, capable of running them all in avid conflagrations.

The spinning water was a neat trick, like a dome, like a shield, and the ice spikes, while he usually relished any formation of snow, rime, or the chilling, treacherous nature of the cold, their dagger-like surface glinting off his wings didn’t inspire much contentment. He descended, plummeting, landing, a few yards off; mind spinning, machinating, over the best avenues to explore and instigate.

He lifted his hands and dove into raw power again – the fire scorching over his palms once more, brandished before him like a giant wall, a fortress, a blockade of embers and flames to alleviate the issue of the ice reigning free over his figure. He intended for them to be absorbed by the burning inferno, while he processed and worked out the next notion. If Loren could unravel multiple magics at once, couldn’t he?

A shrug that was really inward manifested, gaining an eyeroll from Zuriel somewhere in the midst, biding her time until the Sword likely had to be healed from maiming, cuts, bruises, scrapes, and whatever fresh hell awaited him. In the lieu of being able to plunge anything into the other militia member’s dome cascade, he unfurled the silent, unseen life drain tactics again, permitting them to spread outward from his fiery emblems and shields, and hopefully instigate, agitate, seep, and slither their way through watery abyss, aiming for Loren’s motions and efforts.
DEIMOS
Loren Launceleyn
Citadel Grand Healer

Age: 22 | Height: 5' 11' | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 7 (level 5 Attuned) - Strg: 15 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 23 - Luck: 29
ASTRA - Mythical - Luxere
Played by: Crooked Offline
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#11
LOREN
Deimos avoided the Launceleyn’s ice with ease. That was no matter: the General would probably have to come to the Launceleyn to do much more damage. However, as the other man raised a wall of fire, the summoner frowned. Seemed they were both willing to hunker down behind their defenses. That didn’t seem like Deimos’ style, but it suited Loren just fine. Indeed, he would be more than willing to wait this out and see which of them tired out or lost patience first.

However, then the summoner felt the energy being leeched from his body again. It was quick work to call upon his healing again to counteract the life drain. Unfortunately, strong as he was, Loren didn’t know how long he could maintain his focus and his spells while being attacked. That was fine. He’d gotten the other man’s measure now, and the Launceleyn was ready to show why his family had been known as dragons for so long.

So, reaching deep into the core of his being, he pulled up every power that would be useful. Maintaining the healing against the General’s life drain, he grasped the water, envisioning it in his hands. Then he thrust both outwards, hands and energy both. The dome broke up. Instead, a wave of water coursed towards Demios’ fire; as soon as it touched it, Loren took hold of them steam as well and sent it coursing towards the other man.
but I've been down here before
and I know the way out
Force and magic can be used against Loren without permission.
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Militia General of the Hollowed Grounds / Guildmaster

Age: 26 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 8 - Strg: 28 - Dext: 28 - Endr: 33 - Luck: 27
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
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Posts: 1,613
MP:
#12
Change everything you are and everything you were
Your number has been called
More of the same, water to combat fire, a rush of cascading abyss to inevitably tear through the flames. The raw power and distortion he’d gained in life drain’s expanse was something he yearned to utilize, calculations searing while the steam pulsed and pervaded; the inferno diminished in elemental decree, head rearing back and body maneuvering to get out of the way of rising, burning steam. It still contorted over the fabric of his clothing, a smoldering, ignited sensation that caused the raising of hackles and a slight growl; pain an emblem, pain a banner, pain a mark he frequently bore. “Interesting,” he noted, rubbing at the inevitable scorch marks beneath the tunic. “Can you alter temperature on your own, or must it be within the fire’s reach?” Curiosity entangled, like facts, figures, means and measures, even when aches slunk like nettles and knives, pin-pricks of scalding motives, aligned and segmented across his left shoulder; irritated, exasperated, he ceased and desisted, pondering over other openings.

Because the dome was now an aperture, a threshold; the clearing sought.

There were always other opportunities, other Machiavellian pursuits.

He shifted once more, the beat of wings familiar, gaining swift access to the skies, despite his shoulder’s simmering protest, and then tried to plummet straight for the gap in the once ample water shield. Then, for he had more tricks, more tandems, more abilities, he recalled the way he’d snagged at Roana –

And altered himself again, into the massive form of the argent tiger, dropping, dropping, dropping, intending to land upon or near Loren, snatching and reaching with claws, with teeth, with anything to rip and tear.
DEIMOS
Loren Launceleyn
Citadel Grand Healer

Age: 22 | Height: 5' 11' | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 7 (level 5 Attuned) - Strg: 15 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 23 - Luck: 29
ASTRA - Mythical - Luxere
Played by: Crooked Offline
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#13
LOREN
At the other man’s voice, the summoner called off his attack, assuming the sparring was momentarily at an end. Honestly, while he had magical energy to spare still, mentally he was a bit spent. Water magic was difficult enough to control, and he’d been using it in pretty creative ways. That was on top of his healing and summoning. All in all, this had definitely been the magical workout he’d been hoping for. ”Yeah, I can shift from ice to water to steam easily. Can you alter the temperature of your fire?” That seemed like it might come in handy, though he couldn’t imagine how at this exact moment.

Unfortunately, he’d let his guard down too soon, because the General dropped from the sky. Or at least, that was what Loren assumed when a tiger plummeted right down on top of him. He absolutely had not been expecting that, and given how distracted he was he didn’t dodge out of the way in time. So the big cat slammed into the Launceleyn, who slammed into the ground, smacking his head as he did. It was entirely possible he blacked out for a moment, but when he finally came to his senses his mind and body protested wildly.

Although he’d tried his best to heal all the damage from the life drain, the Launceleyn found that now that he wasn’t in the heat of battle (well, kinda) he was feeling achy and tired pretty much all over. Whether that was because he’d just had a tiger dropped on him or because healing was only an imperfect counter to life drain—likely a combination of both—the summoner couldn’t say. He couldn’t say much of anything, really, since his breath was knocked out of him. ”I yield.” It was the barest wheeze, but Loren needed a break, at least, if not a full stop. He'd have to see if he could employ a similar trick with his summoning. Or maybe water. Probably not creation. The sky was super hazy, and Astra's concern made a fun counterpoint to the percussive pounding of blood in his ears.

Oh. Maybe he was concussed?
but I've been down here before
and I know the way out
Force and magic can be used against Loren without permission.
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Militia General of the Hollowed Grounds / Guildmaster

Age: 26 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 8 - Strg: 28 - Dext: 28 - Endr: 33 - Luck: 27
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
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Posts: 1,613
MP:
#14
Change everything you are and everything you were
Your number has been called
“Possibly,” came across as nothing more than a nuance, a thought pattern, amidst the larger, grander scales of things. The only other time he’d ever truly tested the flames had been amongst the Monster Hunter’s Guild, feeling the rush of domination within his palms, and then spreading it outward, unfurling, unleashing, a tidal wave, an inferno, of conflagrations and vitriol. The only moment he’d sought was destruction of the building, because of what it’d harbored, because of the monsters and demons lurking within. His predacious machinations hadn’t accounted for anything else other than the safety of others. He’d have to see just how far he could expand, just how wide he could conquer, just how far he could push, in another hour, in another day, in another moment.

For then there were tiger shifts and gaping holes in water shields, plummeting fur and claws, fangs and talons, the summoner slammed to the ground beneath the monolith’s massive bulk. It was a rippling, an undulation of muscles and sinew contorted for upheaval, for dominion, for absolute prowess in taking down prey; and while the Launcelyn truly wasn’t a source of chasing or stalking, the rapacious mannerisms still lain underneath just the same. And so Deimos remained, a growling decibel burning through his throat, until the call of yield came into the sanction.

He reeled and backed away, shifting instantly back into human form, lowering himself only to offer a hand towards the fellow militia member, if he required it. “Well done,” he pronounced, for it had been, and he wouldn’t lie along these stages. The General fixed the other man with a curious expression, as if asking if he was all right without the syllables and sounds pressed across his tongue – not moments later Zuriel was at his side, a particular chiding and snarky comment withheld through their bond. He’d bled and been burned, but naught monumental – his lungs were not scorched on the inside by poison or smoke again, and his body wasn’t broken, wasn’t maimed, wasn’t scarred, or brutalized – a successful venture and experience, all in all, an expansion of knowledge, sagacity, and calculations within their magical parameters. The depths of his gaze still rankled over to Loren, pondering his thoughts on the matter, while Zuriel’s horn glowed and the healing process began again, blood spatter and scratches across his features no longer remaining, the emblem and steam burn resolving and dissolving into fresh, reborn flesh.
DEIMOS


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