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Aervana #1 - Group 1 (IC Thread)


Flux

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Eleriese smiled as Gillem thanked her.

"No worries; I'm a noncombatant. Have to help somehow."

She circled around and observed the carnage surrounding the band.

"Anyway, I doubt we'll be getting any sleep. Do you guys want to keep moving, or should we break out the ale?"

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Braius grunted and shook awake, sitting up intently. "Did someone say ale?" He winced after a moment. "Ow, that stings." The large man examined his body quickly. "Oh, hello, I didn't notice you before," he said, gesturing to a wound on his arm. "Those stingers hurt something fierce."

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As Kozuto jogged over, someone must have opened up a flask of ale. Braius sat up, right as he arrived. "Those stingers hurt something fierce," the Shantii said. Kozuto snickered. "Actually, the scraeth's stingers have a sort of fluid in them that brings up a numbing sensation. The victims typically have difficulty controlling their limbs and body parts after they have injected the toxin," Kozuto rambled on. "Your body must have rejected the fluid for you to sit up that quickly. That, or you really seem to like firewater. Now, hold up for just a minute while I remove this."
Vanda Nomads are consistently on the move. Therefore, they have to adapt to their environment and understand the life around them. Kozuto removed a pouch he carried filled with simple medical equipment. "Sorry for this..." Kozuto grabbed a pair of metallic tweezers, reached close to the wound, then quickly grabbed the largest portion of the remaining pincher and ripped it out. The pincher was removed, followed by a short string of fibers. He hoped the berserker wouldn't thank him by smashing his face in. He left the healing potion in the sand beside Braius. "Don't drink the whole thing. Just a large sip will do." Kozuto grinned nervously. "Please don't kill me."

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"Ooof," Braius exhaled as Kozuto pulled what remained of the stinger out of his arm. He looked at the shaman in confusion at his reaction to him as he took a drink of the healing potion. After he finished, he wiped his mouth. "Why would I hurt you? You've helped me, and besides, one doesn't go about punching healers. Tends to be detrimental to one's health." He stood up and brushed himself off. "Now, where's that ale?"

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  • 2 weeks later...

Olrien threw him a bottle from his bags. He went around handing to others to everyone in the group. "Everyone drink up, I say this calls for a celebration. Though after this I will definitely need to brew some more, I didn't have a lot made." Olrien said with a big grin on his face. He finished passing out the bottles he grabbed his own flask on his hip. "Time for the toast my friends!" He raised his Flask over his head "To friends, to family, to life, may we triumph once more on the field of battle so we may continue our valiant Quest!"

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Kozuto was handed a bottle of the ale. Never before had he drank firewater. It would be something new to him. However, it was a gift from his newfound ally. And so, with his trust just barely established, and rather stupidly for a Vanda, Kozuto listened to Olrien's quick toast. He was an amicable person. In battle, his prowess was incredible and speed even more so. He saw that from the eyes of the falcon, which now soared freely away.
"...our valiant quest!" he finished saying.
First time for everything, he thought. He took a large chug, instantly feeling tingling in his fingertips.

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Kho raised a hand as a bottle was handed to him. "No thanks..." he muttered, looking out at the setting sun. Its fading light reflected off the remaining shells of the scraeth. His grip flexed over then handle of his blade, the old habit taking place again. He could hear the rest of the group laughing behind him, happy with their survival. Meanwhile, his thoughts drifted to his past.

Running at his opponent, swinging his sword wildly in fear. His master's voice- "...Focus! You need to move more fluidly!"

Stumbling as he attempted a movement...

"...let your mind and body become one! It should feel natural..."

A feeling of elation at completing a parry. His master's smile. "...good. You're progressing well, Kho." His master's hand placed on his shoulder.

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Gillem placed a hand on Kho's shoulder. The Vanda turned to meet his eye, looking surprised for a split second before his face resumed its usual composure. Gillem smiled.

"Sorry if I startled you. Why don't you join us? Everyone's in good spirits."

Kho glanced at the group before meeting Gillem's gaze again. "I... don't really get along well with others..."

Gillem nodded, his faint smile still in place. "You have to start sometime, don't you? Come on, we're all companions here." He took the ranger's arm and began leading him towards the group.

"H-hey...! I don't really..." Kho started, fading away as they reached the group.

Gillem raised his bottle. "For Aervana!" he cheered.

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The sun had disappeared. Gillem was preparing a tent, handing Kho a few blankets from his travelsack. "Pass these out to anyone who needs one, if you would. I'm sure you know how cold the desert gets at sundown. We won't have a fire to keep us warm either, for lack of kindling out here. Kho paused and then nodded, before heading over to the others in the group, offering the blankets to any who might want them. The beginnings of a smile formed at the corner of Gillem's mouth.

"It'll be good for him to interact with the others..." he thought, staking the final corner of the tent. It stood tall and wide, taking up the majority of Gillem's larger bag. The tent would fit most of them. They would need people to stand watch anyway. He knew the sorts of creatures that walked the desert at night. He approached the group as he finished with the tent.

"The tent is up. We should all be able to fit inside, if you don't mind the cramped quarters. It will at least shelter us from the wind. We'll need to set up watches for the night as well. There are creatures that roam around out here that could give us a lot of trouble." He raised three fingers. "I figure we'll break up the night into three watches. If there are two volunteers, you can choose which watch you'd like, and I'll take whatever's left." As he finished, he reached into his smaller bag, taking out some dried meat and bread, passing pieces among the group. "I don't know if any of you brought food, but I should have just enough to cover those without, at least until we restock in Sakiiri."

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Braius raised his hand. "I'll be taking the third watch, if no one's got a problem with that." He absentmindedly made the ration of food that Gillem had given him disappear down his prodigious gullet. "Can't wait till we restock our supplies," the large man commented. "This isn't enough." He let out a large yawn, then thumped down on a bare patch of dirt. "Sleep well and wake, everyone."

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Olrien piped up and said "Gillem, if you don't mind I will take first watch." he said with a slight chuckle "Restless Spirits like mine don't fall asleep right away anyway." he said that trademark grin of his appearing on his face.

Edited by Hukuna
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"And owls don't sleep at night. I'll do first watch with you and Olrien. I can borrow that sense until my shift is over. Plus, if anything happens, I can call on some animals to assist," Kozuto grinned, chomping away at the meal.
And maybe I can try to help relations between Vanda and Elves, he thought more seriously.
"I'll need about five minutes to pray for my ancestors. It's a source of energy and sign of respect for us. In the meantime, my hunting dog can take my place. Don't worry, he won't bite. Unless there's an enemy. In which case, I can stop and come help. Though, I'm not sure how I can-" he trailed off again. He placed his hand on his neck, smiling nervously. "Sorry for that. Guess I'll do a good job keeping you guys up."
He went outside, drew a circle in the sand, and took a pose of meditation.

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Olrien stifled a chuckle. Koz was an interesting one to say the least Olrien found himself fond of the Vanda Shaman. He waited Gillem answer to his request, placing the Flat of his hand on the pommel of his blade.

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"Feel free, if that's what you wish," Gillem said to the elf. "However, it sounds like Koz wants us to take watch together, which is no problem for me, if you don't mind the company." He smiled. "Between the three of us, I doubt much could get past."

OOC:

Just wanted to remind you guys that I'm open with watches. You can choose to make a conflict, large or small, if you wish. I'm keeping this as free as I can while still following basic tenets of a story. Try to make sure any creatures you add fit into Aervana fairly well, though I think most will. Just keep watches realistic. It's unlikely that there will be large conflicts every night, etc.

Edited by Flux
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Olrien sat down in the fine sands, he sat cross-legged, his sword in it's sheathe lay upon his lap. He took out the blade stared at it at for a moment, he remembered how even at the deaths of the horrible beasts they fought, the Scraeths, the sword still wept. He thought of the meaning behind this storied blade, that had been passed down centuries in his family. He plunged it into the sand by it's blade. "Gillem, I have been meaning to ask you something." Olrien said as loudly as he could without waking the others. "Why is it that you fight?" he paused for a second. "Why do you take the burden of all of this unto yourself?"

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Kozuto sat for only a few minutes. However, the Vanda Nomad's ancestral respect, self-sacrifices, and rituals for his family allowed him his unique abilities. One such skill was that of the manipulation of time within thoughts. While meditating, he sat for a rather short amount of time, but within his thoughts, he spent hours with his family. In his ancestral bond, Kozuto explained his day's events to his family, asking, as he always did, for the powers of his people and his blood. Kozuto's prowess with controlling three animals at once during the heat of a battle impressed his ancestors. They were pleased, and they granted him his permission to return to his physical realm, with his renewed ancestral magics. This time, he was allotted three days' worth of as much control within his abilities as he saw fit. Never before was he given such a gift.
As he felt himself returning to his entire body, he looked down in the ground, lost in thought. Kozuto joined a group of incredibly skilled fighters, but he still felt alone. It must have been from his failure to see eye to eye with Kho. He shuddered violently, thinking of how racially alone he was from the Vanda. His eyes lifted up, to the dunes of the desert. He couldn't sit and wait. While he was alone in his race, he was surrounded by new ones: races that should dislike him, but chose not to.
Kozuto got up, brushing off his robes, picking up his staff, and he walked over to the Olrien and Gillem. "I return. For the next three days, I shouldn't need to meditate as long. My ancestors were proud of how I acted today in helping other races, so they bound me limitless energy for three nightfalls," he said as he walked over to the two. Only when he realized that Olrien was already speaking did he stay his tongue. "Whoops. Sorry for that. I'll just call on some birds to keep watch." Kozuto walked a few feet away, bowed his head, placed his staff into Aervana's rich lands, and expanded his mind, as if creating a large dome encompassing any nearby aerial creatures, asking five to come.

Edited by Arkhidon
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"Gillem, I have been meaning to ask you something. Why is it that you fight?" Olrien paused for a second. "Why do you take the burden of all of this unto yourself?"

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Gillem paused, thinking of how to best answer the question. "Well..." he began, "Right now, I fight so that we may continue our journey and discover what is causing the world to die. I fight to protect my comrades -- all of you, as it is my duty as a warrior, but also as a friend." He smiled. "I'm glad that you all decided to travel with me, even on such short notice. I'm glad to have a chance to get to know all of you. It means a lot to me." He paused, thinking of Olrien's uneasiness at his earlier compliment. "I'm not sure of the elves' opinion on such things, but I do believe there is a form of beauty in the art of swordplay. When you go past the violence and death that can be caused by it, there is a sort of grace in the movements." He looked back at the tent. "I find it especially noticeable in Kho's style. He moves with grace, transforming the movements into almost a dance. While I in no way enjoy killing, I would not consider my blade the enemy. More likely, it is the evil in the hearts of man." He looked down at his blade, hoping what he had said made some sort of sense.

Edited by Flux
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"Since we have awhile might a I tell you the tale of the very Blade that sits in front of me. It may contain a bit of insight on my philosophies, and those of the wind Knights." Olrien said as he placed his hand on the pommel of his blade.

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Gillem nodded solemnly. He was interested in learning more about the customs of the elf, as well as learning more about Wind Knights.

"I would be honored to hear its story," he responded, adjusting himself so he could listen. He wasn't sure if Olrien wanted Koz to hear this as well, but decided not to bring it up. If Olrien wanted Koz to hear, he would say so. Otherwise, it was probably a more personal story that he only wanted Gillem to hear right now.

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Olrien plucked the blade from the sand. The sand quickly filled the hole left by the sword. He lay the flat of the blade across his lap. It had a slight shimmer in the Moonlight, a Beautiful blueish tinge, that matched Olrien's Tunic. "I am sure you know your history, but Millennium ago this tale takes place, I don't know if it is recorded in the human annuals of history, since they were a young race at the time as well as most of the other races too." Olrien began. "But Let me tell you a story of Winter's Gale." he paused for a second. "Long ago there was a Great War between the Humans and the Elves, known as the First Winter War amoungst the Elves. It was the first time we had ever be attacked in our homes during the time when the trees had lost their leaves. This was a great disadvantage since our natural camouflage was gone, and it made it much harder to lure our enemies too their doom. But the Elves weren't great people during this time. We had treated the Humans poorly up to this time enslaving them, ransacking small towns that they "dared" to build near out forest homes. One Elf decided he had enough and Fled to the human side. He became a great leader, and even headed their army against his very brethren. His Elven name was lost to history, as he refused to use it, he went by his new Human name Martin Gale'ssong. He had this blade I hold in my very hands commissioned by the Blacksmiths of the Humans. Winter's Gale was forged in such a way that the Blade would look as if it was crying every time it bit into the flesh of an enemy, that way Martin would never forget he was fighting his former kin. Halfway through the war, a bigger threat had arisen, it was a race that is now lost to time as they were all wiped out during this war. The humans and elves were forced into an uneasy alliance. Martin then realized as he cut into the flesh of his new foe that his blade still cried tears of blood. No matter what foe his blade cried, and he realized an important lesson. All loss of life is sad, no matter what. After the war he was recognized as a Hero by the Elves once again, and he came back for a time. He set down his roots there for a short time as he worked with a few other friends of his. They created the orders of the Elemental Knights. Martin was the first wind knight and our code has roughly remained the same all this time. The Blade and it's arts around it are that of destruction and only destruction. They should never be freely used to end lives, and only used when necessary. Wind Knights are bound by a code of honor to protect all peoples, even those of another race. Even if they are being oppressed by their own race of Elves, a Wind Knight must protect that innocent. A Wind Knight has no solid and permanent allegiances like the Wind his magic is based on, as it would tie him and down and keep him from his task."

"That is the story of the this blade and the wind knights." Olrien said solemnly "Ever since this blade has been passed down to members of my Family that are Wind Knights, so that the Wind Knights never forget their duty to the World of Aervana. That is why I am reluctant to ever say my Sword Art are a good thing. All the Sword can do is end lives, if it weren't for my family tradition, I would choose to live my life normally, I never asked for this duty. It is why I play the Flute and brew, it gives me something that helps me Create, and not just take things out of this world." As he finished he cut his hand once more before he placed it back into it's sheathe. The Blood poured down the Blade as if the old man's face in the hilt were crying tears of blood. As Olrien bandaged his hand he said one last thing. "Never draw a sword that will not taste blood. Drawing your blade must mean something, but don't draw it out of spite or anger either. It must be used to defend or protect, nothing more."

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The dome had expanded quite far, further than he had ever created before. It encompassed a huge ten-mile diameter. On stumps of long-deceased trees, birds commonly gathered as a sort of centerpoint in the desert. From nature, man (OOC: Man refers to all species, not just human) takes ideas and adapts them to his desire. That is from where men hope to learn. At any rate, the centerpoint for the birds yielded a flock of five. Two of which were sphinx falcons, another two were sandial owls, and the last one was the green phoenix, a rare bird with a dark green fur that protects it with the power of its own magics. However, the phoenix seemed very uneasy, and its fur had lost its soft glow.

Green phoenixes were tricky creatures. They can grow and shed feathers on command, allowing escape from predators extremely easy. The phoenix can, by drawing upon magic, release small seeds of trees imbued with its feather-growing ability onto the ground and cause the growth of short trees within seconds.
But what was it one of the travelers said? Magic was draining from the lands? That must have been the reason why the bird was disheveled.
Kozuto bonded his mind with the birds, sending the the owl with the falcon in two groups of falcon and owl. The phoenix, as a rare breed, struck Kozuto as very, very strange. They are rather social creatures- another trait taken by man from nature- but this one seemed far too standoffish with its uneasy nature.
As the birds arrived, the falcons and owls flew into the air to scout the area. Kozuto turned to the hunting dog, bending a knee, and smiled at the creature. "Thank you for your assistance, sister. Now, I ask that you find your way among your kind." The dog whined, then turned and walked off. With each goodbye came a new greeting.
That greeting landed on Kozuto's left, padded shoulder. He took his hand and scratched the chin of the bird, smiling. "Hello, beautiful brother. I should very much enjoy it if you could stay with me until I can take you to safety. A desert is no place for you to be lost." He cawed softly.

With Kozuto's eyes in the sky and a new companion, he returned to Olrien and Gillem.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Gillem sighed as Olrien finished.

"I suppose I must respectfully agree to disagree. While I do agree that battle by the sword is an ugly thing, I would like to see a day when people take up the sword as a hobby, not to take the lives of others."

He turned as Koz came to sit next to them.

"All finished then?" he asked. "That's just as well then. I have something I had been meaning to have you take a look at. You said you know a little about helaing, right?"

Gillem lifted up the linen shirt he was wearing, showing the mangled flesh beneath. The skin was burnt and blistered, the tissue was mangled, and the entire area was still covered in dried blood.

"I don't suppose you've seen anything like this before, have you? You weren't there when I explained, but this is the work of what I believe to be a demon. I fear they may be returning to the land, and that they have something to do with the drain of the world's mana. That's why I started this journey." He went on to explain the wound.

"The demon spit some kind of acid at me. The stuff burnt right through me, and the wound doesn't seem to be healing like normal. I'm honestly doubtful that there's anything you can do, but I wanted to at leat give it a shot."

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"I have something I had been meaning to have you take a look at." Taken aback, Kozuto sat straight up. This could very well be a trap. As much as he wanted to believe otherwise, because these people seem good-intentioned, he tensed up at the reference to what the warrior said. However, when he showed that he had a wound, Kozuto eased back a little and took a look at the wound.

His eyebrows jumped at the sight of Gillem's injury. The flesh was not healed, but had clotted somehow. "Hmm... If it is an acid, then any armor you wore should have taken a majority of the corrosive properties. I'm no blacksmith, but armor, blessed or unblessed, could take a lot of the acid. However, because it seems to not only have seeped through, but also reached the skin, that is a major issue," Kozuto piped. "Very seldom have I seen demon wounds before. I've heard from some more experienced than me that not only are the properties corrosive and etching in the skin, but they can also contaminate and curse, as the opposite of a healing magic might," he quickly threw the words out. Kozuto grinned, but then realized he shouldn't be, if this meant the man was in danger. "Of course, I can see what will help. At first glance, a blessing would be in order. If it was indeed a demon that attacked you, and it very much seems that way, then the effects of the curse that prevent the natural healing must be removed through a prayer before you can truly recover. I should explain...
"With limited reading I have done on the matter, I have found out one interesting fact. The lethality of the curse is dependent on the magical properties of the demon that attacked. Considering that you are not yet writhing in pain and that you were able to fight with this sort of injury means you are incredibly enduring, or the demon that attacked you was not too strong," Kozuto beamed at his knowledge.
"Now, I assume you'd like to get this fixed up. This is where your opinion comes in. I can immediately attempt a blessing on you to remove the curse or I can use natural medicines to ease the pain and make the removal less painful. The choice is up to you, but with every day you don't fix it up, it will get worse and worse, cutting off your blood flow and limiting your physical, as well as psychological, drive," he finished up, grinning. I must look so stupid, he thought. But he loved his status that his skill in healing gave him.

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Olrien remembered that wound, he had shown it in the Tavern back in town to convince the men that he had really been attacked, it was ugly as hell, and looked painful, any creature that could do that was worth the life it was given. Olrien didn't care if Winter's Gale Cried at it's lost he would feel good slaying something that did that. Olrien put on some tea to brew on the fire. A minty Smell came from the pot. "They say smells are good for the mind during the healing process, thought I would make myself of use." Olrien said as he continued brewing the Tea.

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Gillem sighed. It was no ordinary wound, just as he had thought. He was surprised that Kozuto knew so much about healing and demons in particular. Most considered them just legends these days. Then again, he knew next to nothing of the knowledge the Vanda had access to.

"You know prayers?" Gillem asked him. He had thought that only priests and priestesses could heal through prayers. Truth be told, he was a little leary of having the Vanda attempt a prayer. He wasn't sure how much it differed from what he was used to.

"If you could do something to ease the pain, it would be greatly appreciated. I can have Rhea try a prayer when we meet up in Sakiiri, if it's all the same to you."

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Kozuto nodded vigorously. "Being a shaman and a non-magic user, my only non-physical source of energy is spiritual, and through prayer I am able to tap into that. Also, as a Vanda Nomad, I know basic healing prayers. They aren't exactly up to par with powerful priests, but my physical alchemy and healing is some of the best around," he bragged.
The scent of the elf's tea filled the air. At first, prejudice bittered the smell. However, if Kozuto were to assist anyone in the group, he would have to accept them. Unwillingly, at least.
Taking the elf's brewing as a challenge, Kozuto rebutted, "For the mind, tea is good, but as the wound is physical, medical procedures will have to be hands-on, and tea can't... completely fill that role," he said, trying not to too harshly decline the elf's offer. Olrien was trying to help, yes, but Kozuto was still uneasy with him. He turned to Gillem. "Alright, so we can try to remove it tomorrow. For now, I'll see about killing the pain."
Within a few seconds, after removing a stone bowl from his sack, one of the sandial owls dropped a rock into his hand. "Thank you, sister!" he called out, then instantly regretting it, hoping nothing heard. "Sorry."
Kozuto placed the bowl into the sand, placed several leaves and a small dose of healing potion in, then began to grind and stir the concoction. "Should take about ten minutes uncooked, fifteen cooked."

[OOC]: 100th post!

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