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!
It was all well and good, of course, and she'd been practicing, slowly strengthening her abilities. But illusions would only get her so far, and she wanted to be able to defend herself against anything that might come up. Illusions, simply put, weren't going to do that. No, for self-defense - or even for offense - she would need something a bit more... sharp. She'd elected to begin training with a bow, hoping that she'd be able to avoid up close and personal combat. Perhaps later, she'd add daggers to her repertoire, just in case.
She'd packed a bag that morning with the basic necessities for a training session: a collapsible target, her newly-purchased bow, and a quiver of arrows. She wore cooler clothes than strictly necessary, protected from any lingering chill by the magic granted to her by her admission into the Academy: dark pants tucked into tall leather boots, a loose white shirt, and bracers along her forearms to protect the tender skin there from the bowstring. Her dark, curly hair was tied back from her face, though a few errant tendrils sprung forth as she set her belongings down in Svaturis Bay. Brushing them from her eyes, Alys began to set up her target.
With the dread and pile of paperwork, missives, and letters firmly behind him, hunting along the bay had been an avid distraction from any other lingering notions of the present. Between guild matters, working on the house, the barracks, and any other Warden duties, picking out bits and pieces of time simply to measure out predacious skills had become another hobby; where he could unfurl and unravel from the day’s events with every bit of ravenous, deplorable, restless indulgence.
Today’s ventures had prospered two seals off the coast; rapid distortion in hellhound prowess, before dragging the sled, and his companions, alongside as they drifted amidst the blackened sand. He might’ve left the individual on the horizon alone, as many Halovians preferred, had he not recognized the outline of Alys, and some collapsible target.
Making no secret of his approach, for there’d be no way to disguise his movements, size, companions, or sled all at once, he simply stopped some yards away, folding his arms over his chest, the start of a grin manifesting over his features. “What are you working on?”
Alys heard the footsteps approaching and ignored them, intent on her task. Besides, if she'd learned anything from Halo, it was that most people left each other alone. So it surprised her when the footsteps stopped nearby. "What are you working on?" a familiar voice asked, and Alys turned to find Deimos staring at her, a hint of a grin forming on his face. Personally, she thought it fairly obvious what she was working on, but that was neither here nor there. "Practicing," she said, turning back to her target. "I'm learning to shoot."
The target was easy enough to set up, and it took her only a moment to get it positioned where she wanted it. She wandered to Deimos's side, fingering the quiver at her side nervously. She had intended to practice alone - which was why she was all the way out here - but Deimos had always helped her before. It seemed silly to pass up the opportunity for instruction, even if it hurt her pride to admit she needed it. "Want to join me?" she asked, then added gruffly: "I could use some help."
Deimos had long since learned not to assume; even if notions seemed fairly obvious, some people still weren’t. He could calculate, speculate, and deviate all day long on a character’s intentions, and their impulsive inclinations would leave him circling back over perceptions and realities. Arching his brow at her answer, he waited for her to exactly as she said – getting the bow ready, an apprehensive dance of fingers on the quiver, a gruff notion coming thereafter.
He snorted, head tilting vaguely, as if deciding if he was going to assist or not. Which he often did anyway, but taunting and teasing were never out of the realm of possibility. “Show me what you know first,” he added, jaw jutting towards the target – intending to see how she’d started, began, her journey of archery, before assigning tips and tricks.
You know how sometimes you step outside and the cold just catches your lungs? And you cough and gasp and desperately try to inhale more oxygen?
Congratulations! You probably just wandered into a breath snatch!
Yeah, that glittering cloud of glittering frost wasn’t friendly either. Who knew?
You’ve encountered a Breath Snatch. This counts as an uncommon creature encounter for the purposes of levelling, but does not count as a Random Event for levelling or MP. There will be no further admin/re intervention. If you choose to follow this creature, you do so at your own risk, however, just having it in this thread is enough to satisfy your levelling requirements. (You may not kill this creature without admin permission. )
Breath Snatch (uncommon) - A minor Halo nuisance, the Breath Snatch is a small elemental spirit that lingers in open areas on cold days. They're easiest to notice on bright days, a concentrated cloud of glittering frost lingering in the air, but if not noticed and walked into, the elemental will disperse in a puff of freezing air, often freezing the breath in the lungs of whomever was unlucky enough to come across it. It doesn't seem to possess enough sentience to be truly malevolent. Large groups of the spirits are rare, but potentially deadly if walked into unknowingly.
With her target set and Deimos standing by, Alys was suddenly very nervous to get started. Though she would never say as much out loud, she admired Deimos, and his opinion meant a great deal to her. She didn't want to embarrass herself in front of him. Unfortunately for her, luck was not on her side. As she lifted her bow into position and notched an arrow in place, she suddenly couldn't breathe. It was as though someone had walked by and snatched the air from her lungs, and she fell into a sudden fit of coughing as she tried to catch her breath, bending forward to rest her hands on her knees.
When she finally looked up, tears streaming down her cheeks and gasping for air, she glared at the cloud of glittering frost. It seemed to be at least somewhat sentient, and as it bobbed away, she thought it must be taunting her. "What is that?" she demanded of Deimos. "And can I shoot it?"
The sudden coating of ice, of glacial wariness, stifling and smothering his lungs, had him gasping and wheezing, bent over for a moment, in capacities and pain he hadn’t felt in some time. Memories of noxious, poisonous fumes swarming them in the Spire flickered against his senses, and he fought over the penchant for choking and watering eyes for an irritated growl, half-withered and cut off. “Breath snatch,” he snarled into the air eventually, rising back to his full height, the brush of a unicorn’s horn at his ribs a moment later.
Patting Zuriel and striving not to immediately eradicate the creature, it seemingly had already done so – dissipating and disappearing in the typical ease of its elemental fixtures. “No point.” It would’ve just rallied and scorched through air, even as Belial snapped at the last place it’d been.
As the mare healed any portion of his lungs, he glanced over to Alys. “You all right?”
Alys's lungs still ached from the sudden cold, but overall, she didn't seem to have any lasting damage. "I'll be fine," she growled, annoyed not at Deimos, but at the breath snatch. It was more irritating than dangerous, it seemed, and she wished that they could hunt it as they had the ursur, if only to scare it away as they had done before. It seemed only fair, given that it had affected them so. At least Deimos had seemed winded by it, too - it wasn't just her, some sign of weakness or inability.
In truth, even if the man had allowed her the satisfaction of shooting at the icy creature, she likely wouldn't have hit it, regardless. She was able to hit her stationary target, but just barely, and she was nowhere near trying to pierce a spectral icicle. "Anyway," she said, returning her attention to the matter at hand. "Let me try this again." She raised her bow, notching her arrow in place. Her stance was acceptable, but far from perfect, as she let the arrow fly; it landed in one of the outer circles of the target, far enough from where Alys had been aiming to elicit a huff of irritation.
With both of them recovered from the bizarre but minor mishap, he watched as Alys situated herself for the practice ahead. Scratching at Zuriel’s ears, he concentrated solely on the way she stood, the breadth and scale of her bow, the long stretch of notching, and then how she permitted the arrow to fly. His eyes followed and traced the armament, until it stung in the outer circle. “Not terrible,” he mentioned, seeing if he could get a growling rise out of her.
Maneuvering closer, the Sword placed himself in a more proper position. “Your stance was not bad, but could always improve. Feet shoulder width apart.” Jutting his jawline towards her, he expected her to do the same. She’d already been capable of rotating her chin over the shoulder of her bow arm, so he left that out. “Your back should be flat, hips slightly forward and tucked under your torso.” An engagement of core strength, so there would be more power and strength utilized. “Try that first.”
Not terrible, Deimos said, and Alys huffed in response. She had gone into this knowing that she had improvements to be made, so the man's attempt to get a rise out of her was studiously ignored. It was a new ability, this self-control, the lack of the need to defend herself. She wasn't sure when she had changed, or if she really had - maybe it was just with Deimos, who had offered her assistance time and again, ever since the first day they met. Why should she take offense when he was offering her advice?
Instead, Alys focused on copying Deimos's instructions. She spread her feet further apart, tightened her core, and tucked in her hips. "Like this?" she asked, concentrating on her position as she drew a new arrow, holding it in place to allow Deimos the chance to correct her.
With only an arch to his brow at her responding huff, he persisted, watching as she altered her stance. For all the times he’d trained others, there had been some who resisted, whined, or became disengaged from the lessons, as if they’d expected to be more. It would end up being a waste of time for all involved, so he was content in knowing Alys was beyond the point of irritation, and eager to learn.
While she copied and mimicked, he snagged a bow and a set of arrows from his bags, and resumed his own posture. “Yes.” Notching his weaponry, and focusing at the stationary target, his gaze landed firmly on the effigy; imagining it as an enemy, for amusements. “When you are aiming, make sure your eye goes on the target. The arrow will follow.”
He drew the strand, unleashed the volley, and the echoing thwack snagged against cold air as it hit firmly in the center.
Alys was certainly one to learn from any mistakes she made, and she had grown enough in recent weeks to realize that she had been wrong to be so standoffish with Deimos when they had first met. She would be silly to pass up opportunities to learn simply because her pride was somewhat wounded - and about things that she didn't even know about, no less. What better way to learn than to listen to a master? And Deimos certainly seemed to be a master of what Alys would consider controlled destruction - and she was an eager pupil.
She nodded as Deimos praised her position and lowered her bow to watch him take the next shot. And a beautiful shot it was, with the arrow drawn and released in a smooth motion to land squarely in the middle of the target. Alys watched enviously. Perhaps, with enough practice, she'd be able to do that one day, but for now... well, she was doing her best.
Alys drew the bow, notching the arrow in place as she took a breath, focusing on her posture and position. When she was confident that she had done as Deimos had instructed, she sighted down the arrow towards the center of the target and released the arrow. It flew through the air to land with a resounding thunk to the left of center - but one ring closer than before.
Snagging at another arrow, he waited once more, patience in the controlled destruction aspects. It’d come from tried and true methods of experience – from skirmishes, battles, invasions, war efforts, failures, triumphs, successes, and losses. A learned craft he wished many didn’t have to embark within – given the amount of heartache, acrimony, and melancholy that came alongside. With one crusade already behind them, hopefully it would be the last many would see, and they’d simply have the art of defending themselves at their beck and call whenever it was required.
The release of Alys’s arrow, after adjusted stances and sights set, curved far more than her first attempt. “Better,” he acknowledged, for it was – nearing the smaller segments of the effigy. “The more you practice,” which she’d probably hear time and time again, but only because it was right, “the more you can develop precision, sight, and your own preferences.”
He breathed, lifting the bow upwards once more, narrowing his eyes, settling in on the center, drew the strand with potency and power – then let it fly. It went coursing rapidly, swifter than the first, to segment deeper into the center. “Again,” he instructed with a nod towards her next rallying attempt.
It was interesting, learning to shoot. In some ways, it was so similar to learning to strengthen her magic; it was all about control, and learning to wield her power in ways that best suited her strengths. With magic, she'd focused on strength rather than distance; with a bow, she focused on precision. She wondered if each would benefit the other.
She was pleased with her second arrow, although she knew it could be better, and she appreciated Deimos's praise, when it came. It certainly seemed like practice was the answer to everything, and the more she began to accept that, the more patient she became with herself while learning. Magic was the same as physical exertions, which were the same as learning the tarot. It all took time.
And it helped to have a good teacher. With that in mind, Alys studied Deimos as he took his next shot, which landed in the center of the target, just like the first. She tried to adjust, rolling her shoulders as she widened her stance a hair, tucked in her hips, and then drew her next arrow. She paused for a moment, allowing herself to sight down the arrow, and then loosed. This arrow landed near the second, though marginally closer to the center. It was an improvement, albeit a small one, and Alys nodded with satisfaction.
