From being an Abandoned who had rarely left the Hollowed Grounds, to embracing the call of adventure, to dying and being reborn first as an Ascended and then as an Ancient, Maea has gone through quite the amount of changes in her life. One thing remains common, though, in her attempts to find out just where she belongs; she’s always had a craving for knowledge which has brought her to so many places and to meet so many people here in Caido. We can’t wait to see what else is in store for her!
Congratulations, Maea!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
Skinning and hosting by the epically talented Kaons, and functionality fanciness by the coding magic of Neowulf. If you ever see either of them around, make sure to show them some love!
Tal blinked, waiting for Deimos and his brothers to merge again and the stars to fade before wrinkling his nose in a tentative scowl - just to see if it would hurt.
When it didn't his expression lightened and he started to nod. "Yea-- ow!" Okay, maybe nodding was a little too much right now. He grimaced ruefully and let the spear slide out of his fingers to rest against his shoulder while he reached up to explore the newly tender spot on his head.
"Uh... I mean... mostly?" The look he shot Deimos was sheepish as he absorbed the General's explanation just like he'd absorbed the blow. Straight to the head. "Couldn't figure out if I should go back or forward," he admitted, wincing again as he found the spot and then dropped his hand. "You were movin' fast enough that stayin' out of range wasn't really workin', but getting inside your range probably wouldn't have ended any better, huh?" It might have stopped the threat of the sword for a moment, but then he would have been close enough for Deimos to grab him with his free hand.
And if the General had been serious, or had a dagger in that hand, it wouldn't have ended well for Tal.
Not one to take much risk of concussions when they didn’t need to, Deimos raised his head and silently implored his companion to find her way out to the training grounds. Thereafter, his attention went back to the youth, sighing vaguely. “Pick one and stick with it, unless you find yourself in a grave situation.” Then the tactic might be to evade and bolt out, resetting the stage, or striving to find an opportunity for one’s opponent to disengage. The other statement made him snort – had Deimos gone all out from the very beginning, there wouldn’t be much left of Talyson.
Before unfurling anything further, Zuriel made her appearance, meandering through the makeshift arena with the grace of a queen and the dignity of an audacious elitist. “Zuri can tend to you, and then we can try again.” Maybe the courier needed a helmet. Shrugging and delaying the decision, the General stepped aside while the unicorn worked her incantations, eyeing the subtle smirk of her emotions.
"Maybe I should stick with my gut an' just back out," he agreed ruefully with the General's advice. If he was in a fight with anyone serious there were depressingly few opponents who couldn't overpower him if he stepped in close. Not something he like to admit, but there wasn't any point in denying it, either.
The question of whether or not Tal had a concussion soon became moot when the elegant unicorn joined them. The courier ducked his head with a gratefully murmured: "Thanks, Zuriel," before submitting to her magical ministrations.
He sighed in relief when the headache disappeared, and as the companion stepped back he stretched refreshed muscles and lifted his shield and spear once more. "Right. I'm ready when you are," he called to his teacher, giving a sharp nod - without the wince this time.
“As long as you commit to one,” instead of meandering between both and enacting nothing well. It would take the courier time to gain power and dominion, and in the meantime, he needed to figure out another sanction to utilize and work with. But he waited, watching Zuriel commit to her work, and then gave a single snort to Talyson, before she meandered off again, head held high amidst sovereign grace.
Another nod beckoned, and he swept back into their residual stances. “Plan it out,” he mentioned, before escalating the moment within a second, rapid, swift, and conniving, aiming once more for the youth’s head with the wooden blade. A slightly altered angle, so that it wasn’t so easy or known, but with enough of an instant to apply reaction time and alterations for the pupil.
Tal nodded, his face slipping into a scowl as he concentrated on his opponent and all the directions and angles that the General could take in his attack.
Which very nearly paralyzed the courier with indecision a second time; not between two immediate actions of his own but between trying to plan for a hundred of his opponent's.
But this time when his body reacted, Tal's brain didn't try to fight it. He stepped away from the strike, back and to the side at an angle as he swung the shield between himself and the sword, deflecting the incoming angle and weakening the point of impact by moving way from ti. And, obedient to an earlier tenet of the lesson, he kept moving, circling wide around the General with quick steps as he shifted to keep his shield between himself and his foe at all times. Pale eyes peered over the shield's rim, wary and waiting to see what would come next.
Movements were honed, a massive improvement from the latest blunder, and so the General backed away, placing his training weapon amidst the rest of the pieces. “Much better,” he commented, a slight smile adorned on his features. “We will end there today.” On a positive note, and on aspects that Talyson would be able to utilize during his solo training exercises, or with any of the other warriors amidst the barracks. “If you remember anything at all, it is to stay moving, and to make a decision.” And perhaps that would ring true with most aspects of their lives – if his corresponding smirk was to be believed. “Keep working.”
And from there, he would follow his own advice, roaming straight back into General duties.
