A Pack With Pride

[Rickter]

A Pack With Pride
Searing 91, 122nd Year, A.o.S.

The stands of the Proving Grounds were filled but not necessarily packed in regards to today's event, the crisp mountain air bringing about a chill within the arena as concessions roamed the stands. Offers for snacks and drinks were being shouted among the locals that attended, while at the heart of the arena stood an older figure garbed in a white kamishimo. The white color looked to be aged with saturation, accenting the age of the Kinsei as he loosely held the scabbard his Katana rested in. The old man didn't wear his straw hat this time, making it obvious that his white hairline had significantly receded, and the strands at the back looked more pointedly untamed with cowlicks.

Nevertheless, Ishin poked at the spectacles over his nose to lift them back onto the bridge of his nose. It was with a clearing of his throat that he rested his hands at his back, and he stood tall before he started to address those who had come to spectate the event. "This is a Glory Proving! Today, a warrior's honor and duty will be put to the test. You are all aware of who this warrior is because over a year ago, he went through a similar Proving with another. Though it pains me to say our dear patron of House Novalys isn't returned, we still have his Prince-Consort to steer us toward a better future!

Murmurs spread within the crowd as Ishin raised his hands, and pointed in general to the crowds observing. "Yes, House Novalys has suffered in great strides these past few years, nevertheless, there will always be those who are willing to take up the torch."

---

Within the southside barracks of the Proving Grounds, Rickter sat on the bench with elbows rested on his knees, fingers, and thumbs entwined with one another as he listened. Just listened. He knew Ishin intended to throw a Proving event for him but that was the extent of it, and hearing now the words that man said, well, it almost lit a fire under the wolf as he sat there clenching his jaw for a moment. There was so much to do over the next several months now, and though he felt torn at every which way to go, the wolf knew there was really only one direction that would guide him to action.

The crowd gave a low cheer in response to the Kensei, one muffled by the ceiling between Rickter and the concession stands that were above. "Much like the Prince-Consort, this warrior is a devout companion to the Daizoku of House Novalys himself." Even so... that didn't mean Rickter still didn't blame himself for his own shortcomings, for utterly screwing up and being sent away for his actions against the Empire. If he wanted to save Talon, then he had to remember to do it with others next time. Powerful as he was his magic wasn't a means for every situation alone, though, that was just one of many lessons the wolf had taken from his journey this season. "A brave soul born with the heart of a wolf, in fact, I'm sure you all know of the man I speak."

More cheers yelled from the gathered crowds as even stomps began to rattle the stone above, causing trails of dust to trickle from the ceiling as the wolf looked up in response. Had they all really remembered just who he was from a year ago? The bout between him and Talon likely had caused waves, but Rickter never imagined himself the memorable type. It all made him completely nervous the more he thought about it, but given his opponent wouldn't be the Prince himself, Rickter felt that this Proving wouldn't have been half as popular as the first he'd gone through. He guessed it was time to find out just how wrong he'd be proven once more.

Dressed in a blue raiment fitted with leather belts and clasps, the wolf rose from the spot on the bench to stand tall, his eyes set on the wide-open entrance to the barracks. He had fought Ishin once before as well but that had been different at the time, now, he was reflexively quicker and stronger compared to their initial meeting. Still, that didn't mean he dreaded the idea of going against his former teacher. A Kensei as powerful as he was shouldn't ever be trifled with, and technically, Rickter had done just that when he'd abandoned his pack back at the Dawnmartyr settlement. One recompense for another, or so he figured, at the very least he'd give everyone a good show before he got his ass kicked again.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Rickter Maze!" Ishin called out with an arm thrust toward the south side of the arena, just in time for the big bad wolf to make his entrance onto the scene. He half expected a mixture of boos but surprisingly, he received feedback of applause and cheers when he walked out onto the arena. With his eyes set with determination, he never once looked away from Ishin, as his heart raced before Rickter felt warmth seeping into his soul once again. It had been a welcome feel to say the least, although, he wasn't sure how comfortable he was to be experiencing the Bond again on these terms. Ever since that night in the mountains, he'd felt the connections between him and his Bondmates increase and wane.

It was like a river of emotions that flowed in, before his thoughts would filter and even lessen that flow. The more he tried with it the harder it became to access it, and so, Rickter just naturally allowed whatever short moments of comfort to pour in when he reached the Kensei. "Are you prepared, young warrior?"

"Yes..." Rickter confirmed with a respectful bow to his mentor. "I'll do my best to keep up with you, master."

The comment generated a brief episode of mirth from the old man, as Ishin looked to Rickter from the side with a smile, before he started to stroke the length of his white beard. "Dear me, boy, did you actually think I was the one challenging you? No, this Proving is for you Rickter, you and the ones so dear to you." Rickter's eyes widened as he straightened back up, his head tilted in wonder as he realized what the old man meant. "Do try to keep up with them though, would you?"

Almost as if on queue, three other figures came out from the northern barracks of the arena. Telion, Hannah, and Patrick. All three wore their own battle raiments as well, each equipped with their own set of weapons. Telion was the first he noticed as she didn't have her staff on her, just a one-handed saber strapped to her waist. That was unlike her entirely, the wolf had never seen her fight much less train with such a weapon. Hannah possessed a quarterstaff which he'd seen her use once or twice, but never actually gone against her in combat before. And at her waist were the two pistols she still used, while Patrick had only the one clockwork pistol he held onto so dearly.

Three separate individuals each with their own unique talents and gifts...

Somehow, this just grew twice as hard for Rickter as he watched those three approach.

"Common" "Synskrit" "Norvaegan"
"Rickter" "Telion" "Hannah" "Patrick"

[Avamande]

As a general rule, Avamande did not participate in or particularly enjoy Kalzasi's martial culture. Oh, they certainly appreciated the peace and security that they enjoyed as a result of the Avialae throwing their children into the depths of the Warrens to create a permanent caste of warriors the least of which still overcame inhuman monstrosities beyond mundane possibility. However, that did not mean that they had to like it. They of all people were not the type to question or criticize parents molding their children into what they believed they needed to become, but nonetheless they considered the entire series of trials and provings somewhat unseemly.

Nevertheless, they were there in the stands on the last day of Searing, garbed in their typical jet black attire. Relatively weak wards tasked against the heat did a measure to keep them cool, and everyone who sat in the same section as the Hytori were pleasantly surprised by a constant but gentle breeze. Of course, Avamande was not here to suddenly indulge in the city-state's traditions of bloodsport or to keep its typical admirers protected against the heat. No, they had arrived for a very simple reason.

Today was Rickter's proving. The Maze scion, and his entire lineage, had become something of a curiosity for the Hytori, and they kept a keen eye upon him as he made ready for his Proving, lightly clapping along with the others. The revelation that he would fight the very souls he was closest with was an interesting wrinkle to the entire affair, and Avamande considered the possibility that this day might prove more educational than they had expected. Potentially even entertaining.

Only one thing spoiled the occassion, the elf's thoughts always returning to the same question as the four combatants approached each other.

Where in the world was Charles?

[Charlie]

At the bottom of the stands, as close as possible to ringside, sat a simple table and a set of sturdy wooden chairs. Sitting at the table was Charlie, looking as utterly unbothered as he did out of place. He was dressed as neither judge nor officiant, but still no one seemed interested in keeping him from his post. The reason why was immediately clear when looking at Charlie closely, as his eyes burned with a bright blue halo around each iris. Anyone who might have thought him out of place had been gently 'reminded' that he was definitely supposed to be here, and it was actually quite disruptive to the entire Proving to have an honored commentator questioned.

Now settled in, Charlie watched the introductions. Already the mindbender was formulating his introduction. He needed to keep the crowd on the edge of their seat for this con to work.

Dotted among the crowd were bookies also under Charlie's influence. The young mage intended to take all of the gambled money for himself, leaving the bookies to deal with commoners looking to collect on their winnings. To encourage more betting, Charlie needed to make sure the air itself was electric to match what was sure to be a breathtaking performance.

That the Proving was revealed to be three-on-one was also incredible for Charlie, as it meant people rushing to place what they thought was a safe bet. Each new bet was more money in his pocket, and he just needed to keep the fans distracted enough not to notice the bookies making a hasty retreat just before the Proving was decided. Oho, Charlie you are so clever!

Once introductions were over and the fighters begun their entrance, Charlie leaned forward into an odd looking magical device designed to project his voice to the crowd.

"Greetings and salutations, Proving fans!" He shouted, his energy infectious as he turned to face the stands behind him with his arms raised. His voice boomed through the stands, and that alone got a roar of approval from the crowd. Damn, he could get used to this. The sound carried through the stands, but was much quieter once it reached the Proving Grounds themselves, a concession made to ensure fighters were able to hear themselves think during these otherwise high stake bouts."We've got an amazing battle for you today. Your eyes don't deceive you, so don't you dare look away!" He swept his arm towards the grounds themselves now. "Three-on-one! If this were anyone other than Rickter, I'd say this was just to teach the pup a lesson." Charlie knew next to nothing about Rickter. "Don't you count out this lone wolf yet, though! Something in those eyes tells me he didn't come to lose." That Charlie could not see Rickter's face from his current vantage mattered little, as the words painted as proper picture for the crowd.

"Now let's see who makes the first move!"

[Imogen]

As Charlie, the commentator (we all know him, right? he's the guy for this sort of thing!) spoke his last line, a woman ran up to the level behind the illegal table and its occupant, grasping the railing with such force that her knuckles shone white against light-green skin, and leaning over it to shout:

"What are you talking about?! That's Rickter Maze! He can't possibly lose this bout!"

Imogen had never seen Rickter fight, not even once in her life, but her analysis was simple: she liked the man and had never met any of his opponents, and therefore he was by far the more likely to win. It was, perhaps, an inane and solipsistic way to approach fight analysis, but the crowd around her seemed relatively convinced. The crowd nearby roared their approval, stamping their feet and shaking fists to convey their hearts to the favorite in the arena.

A three-on-one traditionally meant one of two things; either it was a show to put the lone gladiator in his place, or it was a chance to dazzle the viewers with a vastly-superior fighter's beautiful rout of three relative nobodies. She understood that this wasn't really supposed to be either. The excitable lady at the haberdashery had gushed about the spectacular nature of past Provings, and though Imogen still wasn't precisely certain what the rite was intended to signify, she definitely didn't want to miss a bunch of expert gladiators beating each other half to death for sport.

So, if this was to be a three-on-one and an earnest test of Mr. Maze's skill, she supposed that signified a high degree of skill on his part- but what did it bespeak about his challengers?

The one woman carried only a saber, while the others bore clockwork pistols in the style of Zaichaer, a sight which sent a pang of regret through her soul anew. In his position, those would have been her first targets, but she could only guess at what Runes each gladiator might possess. If this Proving were in earnest, she imagined that none of them were a match for him in single combat, which meant that disabling attacks at range and creating distance to deal with the gladiators one-on-one was the immediate tactic. All of this cogent analysis drifted through Imogen's head, as she instead shouted:

"Three on one? HAH! Fuck 'em up!"

Oh man, did she ever love bloodsports.

[Paragon]

A O R E N

Avialae were not a peaceful people. It was a fact that had been proven since the dawn of their creation. They were a people created to engage in war and bloodshed. Anyone who believed otherwise was sorely mistaken. There were those who benefited from the Avialae’s love of martial prowess and war. For centuries, House Novalys had guided the Synnekar toward a more benevolent form of expressing their desire for violence. The Warrens served both as a reminder of the need for their martial culture and an outlet for their natural instincts. As a result of its presence, that craving for violence was funneled into a purpose that benefited generation after generation, providing a nation with riches and safety that made them the envy of many.

But Aoren knew better.

War was in their blood.

He stood in the shadow of the royal observation platform. The banners of House Novalys hung. It had been a tumultuous time since his return from his imprisonment in the empire. His presence was a threat to the regency that Sahfri had instituted. He had already challenged her right to govern among the nobility. He had already begun asserting his dominion as the Prime Consort of the reigning Daizoku. He had seen what had become of Kalzasi since the death of Savien. He had seen what had become of the Palace of the First Wind and Talon’s siblings. They lived in fear of Sahfri’s wrath. He had been less than impressed and had known down to his core that his beloved husband would have been furious.

The coming days would bring their own problems. There was tension building both among the citizenry and the nobility as the need for a regency was now questioned. Zaichaer was less than a credible threat at this point. It was time to move forward. But that was a problem for later. At the moment, his attention was on the grand spectacle that was about to unfold before him.

“Shouldn’t you be down there?” The voice of Rien, Talon’s younger brother, interrupted his thoughts.

The two of them were plainly visible, standing openly on the observation deck where the throne of the Daizoku sat empty. Aoren very pointedly did not take a seat in that throne even though by all rights, it was his to sit in while his husband was absent.

“I will give Rickter a moment to stretch his muscles. Besides, I want to see his capabilities.” Aoren was dressed in the Skyforge Raiment. It had been a long time since he had worn the gift of Talon’s craftsmanship. He carried no obvious weapons but those who knew him knew better. He was never truly unarmed.

“Was all of this really necessary?” Aoren was silent for a moment as he considered Rien’s question.

“Rickter and I were supposed to protect Talon. We are his partner’s, yes, but we had a duty to perform. Both of us failed. There are those who question our ability. There are those who believe neither of us should be here in Kalzasi, especially without your brother at our side. This Proving is as much to demonstrate our skill to them as it is to each other. You know the ways of our people, they need to see this. Both to understand us and to understand the depths of what might have been used to defeat us.” He glanced at Rien. The man looked troubled. There was a weariness to him that had not been there before. The death of his father, the regency of his mother and his veritable house arrest had clearly taken a toll on him.

“The empire is coming isn’t it?” Aoren met Rien’s gaze as it lifted from the Proving Grounds to his own.

“I do not know but I do know this, they have Talon. They have successfully bound him. They will not remain idle and we both know the kind of weapon your brother could be turned into.” The two of them shared a moment of silence before turning their attention back to the match. Rickter had taken his place and his three opponents had taken theirs. Rien snorted and chuckled.

“Looks like we have a bit of mischief in the crowd.” Rien nodded toward the announcer who had encouraged gambling upon the match. “A mesmer, weaving his symphonies it would seem.”

Aoren arched an eyebrow. Tied as he was to the Bond, he was protected from such manipulations. Rien being a powerful mind mage himself, Aoren suspected he was equally immune to such influence.

“Are you going to stop him?” The eagle winged Avialae rest his hands at the small of his back, looking out to Rickter and the others.

“Gambling is the purview of House Veyl, if I recall.” Rien shrugged his shoulders. Aoren chuckled.

[Ismene]

Going to events such as these was mandatory.

Why? Simple — warriors were meant to prove themselves, and an audience was required, or it simply wouldn’t count. If no one was around to see the result of your training, your victory, would it hold up in a tavern full of drunks or before the skeptical? Maybe; but Ismene was a woman that had to see to believe these sorts of things.

That — and Ismene had noted this was no different, sometimes, from watching cadets go through their training to scope them out. To see potential. Her familiarity with these grounds led to the gracious nods of greeting as she passed through the crowd. Those that knew her, could rightly give the appropriate salute would do so. Those that knew only her face — going in full uniform made her purpose obvious and if any participant were particularly showy, they’d be looking for it — stepped aside. She had opted for something more common; trousers and a shirt, the sleeves clearly shorn off and retouched. Her steps purposeful as she sat high in the stands, next someone that would have been fellow Hytori if the Rathari genes hadn’t been so prominent. Though, the two varied drastically in appearance, save the ears. Always the ears with their ilk, wasn’t it?

Aside from the booming voice of the announcer came that of an unfamiliar voice. A commentator? A new addition, perhaps, in the time she’d been on the frontlines. Eyes narrowed as she stared down at the table, and the woman that came to yell at the commentator. There were always…fans. Ismene knew Rickter, but there had always been a certain apprehension. Kin in Rathari blood, but what had he proven himself to be? The word disppointing would have meant that she had any expectations of him. Highly skilled, yes, but that had been for nought when it had been needed most.

Still — now was a chance for him to prove himself again. Maybe she would have some expectations this time as she sat, back straight and gaze unwavering.

[Reika]

The Proving Grounds… It wasn’t a place the daughter of Dahshida visited often, once every few seasons - but it was still too much for her taste. Countless mercenaries had tried to gain her family’s favor by showing their merit in battle, rivaling guilds settling a disagreement with a simple duel with a Dahshida overseeing them.

Reika walked into her family’s personal deck dressed in a simple black dress with golden threads weaved through the skirt. Soon following behind her was her older brother, Haraka, who was armored and armed, looking like he might join the fighting at any second. He was in a much more cheerful mood than she was, already carrying whatever food and drinks that caught his fancy on their way to reach their section.

“You shouldn’t look so dismayed, sister,” he teased as he sat down on the center seat where Senrian Dahshida would usually be. “It’s not often that we can get such an indulging entertainment during these dark times.”

The young woman rolled her dark eyes, her fingers raking through her hair in an impatient gesture. To Haraka, this was a delightful day off and away from all the violence of their skirmishes against Zaichaer. To Reika, this was another way for their father to keep her as far away from all the action.

“Watching people hitting each other isn’t what I would usually call entertainment,” Reika retorted back as she walked to the edge of the deck and saw the people below.

A man with unkempt blonde hair was standing amongst the crowd, his voice even reaching the decks. “Three-on-one! If this were anyone other than Rickter, I'd say this was just to teach the pup a lesson.” The fights she had seen were rarely commentated and she could help but wonder if he was officially sanctioned by any of the noble houses - somehow she doubted it.

In the arena itself stood a well-built man with dark brown hair that must be the one called Rickter Maze. Reika had never personally interacted with the man, but he did make quite a name for himself throughout the city. Soon, three more people emerged into the field - two women and a man, all seeming like formidable warriors.

Haraka leaped from his seat and stood beside her, smirking as his black wings fluttered. “Let’s hope the friends of the Novalys know how to entertain.”

Her eyes moved to the royal section, recognizing the two figures standing there - Prince-Consort Aoren and Rien Novalys. The Royal House had particularly been tight-lipped about the return of the shinsei’s partner. Her father had used every bit of connection he had to gather bits of information. A majority of their resources had been directed to find out what exactly happened and where the hell Talon Novalys was. Knowing her father, Reika knew he would’ve learned of the truth by now. Unfortunately, even if he had discovered anything, Senrian had disclosed very little of it to anyone else. Only his most trusted agents would be informed and unfortunately, Reika wasn’t one of them.

Reika sighed and let her focus drift back to the sight in front of her. As much as she didn’t like being there, the least she could do was watch and see just what a close companion of the prince of Kalzasi was capable of.

[Rickter]

VS.

As the crowd within the stadium cheered and applauded Ishin's collective smirk lessened, particularly, when it looked as though there were an announcer suited for this particular bout. There was a minor look of aggravation as the Kensei regarded the sanctity of honor within the Proving Grounds, however, he did not feel it appropriate to speak out if none of the other officials gathered here were going to. Thus, the old man looked back to Rickter once more, before giving a nod to the three that stood across from the wolf. With a turn of his coat, he was then off toward the stalls where House Novalys was situated, which left the group alone centerstage within the battlefield.

The wolf had to admit whoever the blonde guy was, he certainly knew how to work up a crowd to say the least. There were so many people here ready to spectate, ready to see if he would overcome the faults that had held him back before. Rickter looked among his beloved pack as they all took their stances, the first to earn his gaze of doting approval his beloved before the other two spoke out. "Today's the day, Wolfman! We're gonna kick your ass!" Hannah threatened with a nod toward him as she pointed her staff outward with one hand, Patrick quick to grin as he flicked his right arm downward to materialize his broadsword.

"Time to show what you got, big guy!" Rickter's eyes moved from the rogue to the Atinoran, his lips parted into a slight wry smile before he looked back to his beloved Alpha one last time. "Do your best, as we'll do ours." Ever the polite one Telion bowed before she straightened up, her stance reminiscent of a dancer when she unsheathed her saber from her belt. Right now, as of this moment, thoughts of genuine warmth and comfort welled inside of Rickter, and in that moment he wished he could've imparted such feelings with the rest of his Pack. There was obviously the immediate Bondmate in his vicinity, Aoren, that would've recognized the feelings when Rickter himself looked up at the balcony they were seated in.

An entire year had passed. It was time to show what he had learned during his journey to war.

"Alright," He regarded before his eyes fell back down on the ragtag crew in front of him, "don't hold anything back." He warned. For he would do his best to balance himself with a little restraint, while at the same time giving them all a satisfactory performance of his own. The wolf threw his right hand away from him to materialize his weapon, a flicker of light manifesting the silver bastard sword firmly grasped. He pondered whether or not he should've made the first strike, however, resorted to simply rest Way to Dawn over his shoulder as he slouched into his own battle stance. With eyes focused on the three before him, he wondered which one of the three would be the first to move... And within the blink of an eye, he quickly found out.

Patrick took the initiative as he turned into a reversive spin, and darted forward before light danced into sparks of electricity all around him. Within just that blink, Rickter saw a flash of lightning zip right toward him, before he felt his gut react to the sizzling pop that was heard behind him. The Atinoran Blinked into a position behind the wolf, ready to deliver a blitz attack just as Rickter turned to parry the oncoming blow. The rebound of the strike caused Patrick to falter backward in midair, while the swirl of aether within the air above Rickter suggested another had Blinked above him.

"You're mine!!" Rickter clenched his jaw as he pulled the blade upward hold it flat above him, the blow of the quarterstaff enough to rattle the spine of his sword as he reacted. Parrying off the staff with the angled push of his left hand, he redirected Hannah's blow with a follow up of his own, the wolf spinning into an upward cut with his blade just as the rogue blinked out of range once more. Patrick came at him with another thrust from his position, while Rickter continued the motion of his previous counter blade maneuver, and reciprocated the attack with a speeded slash to knock the man further back once more. "Oh SHIT!"

As Patrick teetered back Rickter angled his blade to prepare for a thrust, only to see aetherial bubbles coalesce before him when Telion surged out from their gathering point. She can Traverse too!?! His eyes widened as his beloved surged forward with a thrust, the saber deflected with an underhanded parry from his left, before the blonde quickly twisted to move into yet another angled strike. Fuck! The wolf actually started to take steps back to parry off the blade, as Telion yet again went into another strike that he shrugged off, before she tilted her form to twirl into a piqué with her own blade. "Farewell!!" Both strikes from her spin clashed hard against the flat of his sword, but it was the initial burst of wind that she released afterward that sent Rickter teetering into a backward roll.

Using Kinetics to gain some distance he pulled himself onto his feet with eyes sharp on his target, Telion already steady on her feet once more as she charged onward. With two separate flashes at her side, Hannah and Patrick were both adjoining to her with their own weapons ready, the three each taking turns to jab at the wolf as he retreated backward to parry each oncoming strike. A blow from the staff followed by a swing of a broadsword, a pointed strike of the saber followed with another thrust of the staff, each and every swipe his comrades made at him Rickter shrugged off with just a flourish of his blade. Their weapons altogether sang of combat as the arena filled with bangs, clangs, and tangs from the center of the arena toward the northern side. Finally, they all moved to where Patrick took him head-on, while the two ladies flanked him in the middle of his next parry.

Rickter chuffed the moment he realized they had all finally closed in on him, before he angled the blade in reverse with his grip and thrust its tip down into the sand hard. The result of it ended with him unleashing a burst of aether from around his figure, as a tide of water billowed out to knock every one of them away from his position. Patrick was washed back toward the center of the arena, while Telion and Hannah were in their own corners of the northside. As the billowing water lingered around his form like a temporary shield wall, Rickter pulled his weapon out from the ground before readjusting his grip on the hilt. "Alright, I see you big guy!" Hannah called out as she whipped her hair to the side, droplets of water still drizzling from the tangled ends that stuck to her neck and shoulders. Just as she said this thunder boomed into the arena from Patrick's position, another bolt of crimson seen crackling through the air before he reappeared once more.

Just as the Atinoran appeared to smite him with another blitz, Hannah also came at Rickter from the side with another blow aimed for his back. Rickter breathed in deeply before he reacted, and generated a lift to thrust himself into a high jump while he parried Patrick's blow. The fended blow resulted in the Atinoran somersaulting backward onto his feet, while Hannah plainly missed her jab at him when Rickter rose into the air. With another flex of Kinetics, the wolf pulled himself into an aerial spin away from the two, before he cushioned the landing with a knee and a foot. Immediately the two were at him once more, interchanging different strike measures while they each took a chance at his defense. The wolf simply allowed his instincts and his blade both to take over, and with rather easy expertise, intercepting every one of their blows proved easier to handle than the first round before.

A linear swing of the staff went redirected from the left, an aerial sweep from the broadsword rebounded from above, another thrust of the pole went off course, while an aerial slam from Patrick ended up with yet another upward cut from the wolf. All the while Telion stood in her corner, briefly observing as she noticed the patterns in the flow of the battle. She believed she might've grasped at something in regards to Rickter's impenetrable defenses, and had come up with an idea of her own in turn. As Rickter blocked another pair of attacks, aetheric bubbles gushed past him from behind to signal another blink portal. The wolf barely had any time to turn around when he saw Telion literally zip forward, and slam into his arm with the edge of her saber with all her might. At best he teetered but Rickter still felt the full brunt of that strike, the air half knocked out of him as he reeled back toward Hannah and Patrick.

Already they were about to close in on him, but the wolf pulled his arms and legs in as he coaxed the Flux once again, lifting himself into the air to avoid the three-way barrage he didn't have time to ward off. Telion's saber came down into a blitz that released a gust of wind, which gushed past the other two as their weapons clearly missed Rickter as well, before the wolf tucked himself in the air to prepare for another possible attack. He had been right to. "Wind!" Telion immediately threw a hand out to generate a wind blade out of aether, the air rent to slash toward Rickter as he exerted his aura. The aetheric blade tore through air as the wind magic dispersed on impact, while the very space below him several inches appeared to crystalize with a negation ward.

Telion quickly pounced as her form leaped into the air with a veil of wind around her, the charge of her momentum enough to shatter the brief barrier that the wolf had generated. Rickter gasped as he felt his form rebound from the force, while Telion closed in with yet another piqué in midair, to slam his armor twice with her weapon as Rickter went off course. "Got you!" To add more impact to the combo she had utilized the blonde generated another burst of wind around her, and unleashed it into a whirl that sent the wolf careening through the air for a few seconds. I'll be damned! The wolf generated another brief lift to recover himself in midair, before he went plummeting back down onto his feet within the arena. Telion also landed in-between Hannah and Patrick, as they both stared at her a little impressed.

"I think I've figured you out, finally." His beloved called out as she used the moment to catch her breath. "Each time you deflect a blow, your weapon has a tendency to twitch before you react. Rickter." The woman smiled at him as the wolf regained his footing, his eyes on her as he still looked quite baffled by her advance. To be honest... he was turned on. Never had he seen his alpha take the mantle of a fighter until now, even though he had been well aware of the warrior spirit she possessed. He'd thought her purely a mage, however, and that certainly had been his undoing. "Something tells me you read your opponents before you react to their attacks."

Admittedly he couldn't help but grin admirably toward Telion, as the lady looked to her companions while they readied to back her up. "Well. You're certainly onto something." He regarded with a proud smile sent toward her, as he reached before him to cross his wrists over one another. With Way to Dawn still held in his right hand, the wolf focused as he reached within to call out another, and duplicated his bastard sword into the altered form of Howling Fang. With both blades now in his possession Rickter twirled their hilts between each of the digits on his hand, before the spread of his arms resulted in a spark of light from the final graze of the two weapons in their angling positions. "Now. Let's have some fun."

Telion looked to quietly giggle while Patrick sighed, and gave Hannah a weary glance before he practically whined. "You just had to threaten to kick his ass?"

"And I meant every word." The rogue's emphasis was similar to her thirst for probably smashing the wolf, which, granted the many times Rickter had put her on the spot for something?... Yeah, probably well deserved. But it was clear that they were all getting serious now, and that the real fight was only beginning. Hannah twisted the center of her staff until it clicked a few times, before the ends of the rod rolled in toward the center. The wolf shifted his blades to where Way to Dawn rested on his shoulder once more, his upper body slouched forward with Howling Fang tucked around his right waistline. Aether particles shimmered off him in sparks of cyan as his aura slightly manifested, while his Reaving and Kinetics runes shimmered through the padded armor he wore.

Telion's figure began to shimmer in an opaque lavender as she accessed her own reserves, while Hannah was soon clouded in an amethyst veil the moment she pulled her guns out from their holsters. Patrick's aura glowed a crimson red as bolts of electricity frequently flashed within it, suggesting that he too was accessing a bit of higher-level magic now. Good. Rickter wanted them to come at him in full force, because they were all going to need it. Thunder soon rumbled from where the three stood, as Patrick surged toward Rickter in one red flash before the Atinoran spun into a wicked strike. Rickter angled the blades to where both were crossed into a parry together, as bolts of lightning stormed against him before he pressed the two blades into an outward cleave.

Patrick's redirected blow led to reversal away from the wolf, before the man stomped his foot on the ground to generate lightning bolts in front of him. Rickter pulled back several yards away with the use of seeming, while two portals opened facing one another behind the wolf. Hannah suddenly came barrel rolling out of one of them, just as both of her guns popped off two thunderbolt castor shells. Rickter started to notice a trend here. With a crossing of his blades the wolf exerted his aura once more, and generated a barrier dome to ward off the blasts of lightning that clipped the air in front of him. Northern lights danced outward from where smoke and electricity sizzled the air, as Rickter soon surged outward through the plume to race toward the rogue. Too late.

Hannah had already crossed over into her other portal and avoided him, the amethyst aether of her portals dissipating from the swing of his blades. Telion was the next to pop into view as Rickter clenched his jaw, her saber released from her grip as she brought her arm upward to generate a swirl in the aether current. Her weapon, pure as it was, acted like a Reaver's dancing blade, as the healer spun it outward with her Kinetics to unleash a gust of air. Even the winds her weapon gave off emitted that lavender hue of aether, Rickter only having the moment to defend himself like before against Hannah's barrage. The space before him rippled before a shield crystallized into place, only to lightly shrug off the continuous bursts of air from the weapon's rotation.

The wolf fell back as Telion brought her weapon back in, only to hurl it out once more as Rickter heard the jarring sound of thunder from behind again. Fucking hell!! He growled loudly to himself before alternating Howling Fang in his left hand, the blade held in reverse before he tucked himself into another kinetic pull to react. Both his weapons lashed out in his wild spin as he deflected both the storm assault and spiraling raid of Telion's weapon, before Rickter unleashed another wave of kinetic force to push both targets back from his position. Patrick and Telion went sprawling through the air before a lightning bolt struck the ground beneath him, and the Atinoran landed right where the crimson flash had hit the ground.

His beloved Alpha though merely recovered her position in midair with a kinetic lift of her own, before she moved to ready her next gambit against the wolf. Rickter knew Hannah was likely going to take this chance to fire at him once more, after the other two had made their next attack, therefore took matters into his own hands by releasing his weapons entirely. Like natural extensions to his own form the blades floated at each of his side, while his fists came together to generate a larger amount of aether. The aura around his figure brightened with intensity as the hues changed, the cyans now silver as he laced aether into his hands. Two anchors were generated while his comrades closed in, his suspicions found true when yet two more portals mirrored one another just above his figure.

My turn! The sound of gunfire popped off again as the rogue surged from one portal to another, and yet, the anchor Rickter tunneled through the shots completely decimated their spellwork. The castor shells disintegrated as the anchor's blackened center expanded, generating a draw in the aether currents to prevent the woman from escaping. Sure enough just as the magnetic forcefield kept Hannah warping away, the second anchor was sent tunneling toward her in turn. Silver aetherial chains burst out from the node once it drew close enough to her, the brunette briefly screaming in surprise as she became bound around her arms and torso. That left two more.

Just as Telion and Patrick closed in Rickter posed both hands outward, all this in midair mind you, so that each of his weapons not only blocked to intercept the attacks; they counterstruck with an angled blow to send both assailant careening through the air. The wolf's open hands closed into fists once more as he engaged two more anchors, each one sent out to repeat the same task as the prior one that ensnared Hannah. Neither one of his pack mates had the time to react, as aetherial chains laced out from the nodes that reached them, only to snag them as all three started to fall toward the ground. They would never reach it, however, as the wolf generated another lift off the ground with his Kinetics, to ensure that they had a slow and comfortable fall before they actually touched ground.

Well, it looked as though a victor had been decided finally. The silver aura that radiated from his form faded away, as Rickter dematerialized both his weapons with just a flick of the wrists. Landing in between the three of them, he marveled at all their hard work and valiant effort, impressed by everything he had seen up until their final moments spent fighting together. The chains soon dispersed as if by whim, as he helped each one of them onto their feet. Telion and Hannah being the first two to get up, while Patrick had already started to regain footing by the time Rickter helped out. Once they were all standing before him, clearly worn out from all their advances, he couldn't help but humbly chuckle at the pride he felt in each and every one of them.

"You all amaze me!" He declared. "Not only did you find a way to press my defenses, you overwhelmed all of them in ways I didn't ever imagine possible!" He was ecstatic just by looking at all of them, profoundly humbled by everything he'd seen them perform during combat. "Your combinations, your synergy! Telion!" Her eyes slightly widened at the incoming praise he rewarded her. "Never would I have guessed you such a brilliant strategist! Not only did you work around my blocks, but you generated openings to allow your comrades to strike also!" They were bloody magnificent together! He'd never once perceived any of them possessing such profound talent, and yet, here they displayed just how much effort they gave just to fight alongside him.

"You all really are a pack!" His pack no less, a pack that stuck together against all odds. The three wound up grinning and chuckling at his revelations, Hannah folding her arms over one another with a sassy look while Patrick dematerialized his weapon. Telion gave an affectionate smile to Rickter before she bowed to pick up her saber, and returned it back into the scabbard attached to her belt.

"No shit, Rick, what else would we be?" The rogue attested as the wolf still simply stared at them, amazed and awed by everything he was still processing.

"Common" "Synskrit" "Norvaegan"
"Rickter" "Telion" "Hannah" "Patrick"

[Paragon]

A O R E N

He watched the bout unfold. It was impressive. It was more than impressive. A great pride blossomed in his heart as he watched Rickter not only hold his own against three skilled fighters but overcome them. It was a far cry from the match that had played out in front of him what seemed like an age ago. He still saw a hint of the wolf that was baffled by the idea that others would throw so much passion into fighting for him, to prove that he was worthy, but it was outshone by the confidence in his step.

“I questioned whether it was wise for my mother to banish Rickter. I never saw the reason for it.” Rien spoke idly to himself. Aoren frowned.

“Your mother is a strong woman but grief clouds judgement. She never liked Rickter and in my not so humble opinion, used the opportunity to rid herself of him. A decision she will come to regret.” Aoren’s eyes burned more hotly for a moment before he settled. He saw Rien shake his head out of the corner of his eye. The younger Novalys sighed.

“It was, is, an impossible situation, Aoren. Do not think badly of her. We have all lost much. We continue to lose. Talon--”

“Would not have wanted his people so divided. Sahfri may have forced the unification of the Houses forces and prevented a power vacuum from taking root after your father’s death, but the time for the regency has passed. You see it as well as I do.” He sighed, folding his arms over his chest as he watched Rickter finish off the match and begin assisting the others to their feet.

“What do you intend to do?” Rien asked. Aoren thought on the question. He already knew the answer but while he knew his end goal, it was the path to achieving it that would prove to be difficult.

“I am the First Spouse of House Novalys, now. I will do what I must to ensure my prince has a home to come back to in his absence. At least until we are better prepared to bring him home.” With that, Rickter had finished congratulating his opponents.

“It looks like the Proving is over.” Rien sounded almost disappointed. Aoren smiled.

“Not quite.” Aoren stepped forward, climbing up onto the ledge of the royal observation deck. He gave Rien a knowing look before the younger Novalys chuckled with dawning realization. Aoren then stepped off the ledge, spreading his wings so that he glided down easily. As his boots touched down upon the ground he began clapping as he walked forward. Around him, others soon joined in the applause. More began applauding in short order but there was an edge to the air. A sense of anticipation as those observing the proving match watched Aoren closely.

“Well done, Rickter.” Aoren passed his arm over his chest, pressing the flat of his palm against his heart. Across the Bond, he sent waves of warmth and pride to his bondmate. He affirmed his confidence in the wolf. But then the Bond quieted until it went completely silent.

“Telion. Hannah. Patrick. Please.” Aoren motioned for the three to depart, gesturing to the stands nearby. As soon as they were seated, Aoren reached up and removed the velvet black cape that was over his shoulders. He released it, letting it fall to the ground revealing the Skyforge Raiment that he wore. He adjusted his wings and turned his body slightly so that he adopted a more optimal stance in facing Rickter. He flexed his hands and in them appeared his dual blades. The twin swords were a scorched black steel that looked as though they were touched by fire.

“Are you ready, my wolf?”

[Avamande]

A pit of fear opened up in Avamande's stomach as soon as Charlie's voice boomed throughout the arena. Reflexively, they crafted a shield for themselves against Mesmer, cursing in Mythrasi as they attempted to make sense of what the inveterate scoundrel had gotten up to now. How long had he worked to set this particular scheme up? The magitech device projecting his voice seemed Imperial in make, and it seemed that almost every bookie that they could see was following the conman's script. The fact that he had the gall to attempt this ruse in the presence of the Prince-Consort himself spoke much to either his foolishness or audacity, but in either case it seemed to have paid off.

Somehow.

Muscles that Avamande didn't even know were tensed relaxed as they willed themselves to let the situation play out as it would, though they did permit themselves a measure of satisfaction as Charlie was chewed out by Imogen of all people. They couldn't make out the words that the pair exchanged from so distant, but it was nice to see him yelled at by the Orkhan woman all the same. The woman who had come to sit besides them didn't seem to particularly mind the 'announcer' either, and after a moment's thought, Avamande decided upon the pettiest way possible to spite their headache of a friend.

Concentrating upon their ward, they slowly began to expand it, first encapsulating the muscular Rathari sitting next to them, before it continued to grow to cover their entire section. Cheers from formerly enraptured attendees leveled out to a confused roar, only to reerupt moments later anyway as the far more mundane acts of showmanship and excitement at the unfolding bout compelled them to carry on regardless. Avamande could not and would not meddle with the minds of others, and so seeing that they had made their choice without undue influence simply kept the ward active.

Of course, by the time they had finished their will working, the majority of the fight had already occurred. Certainly, the view was spectacular, and Avamande could not help but admit that perhaps those cheering in the stands had reason to be so excited. Not for the first time, they cursed their lack of Semblance as they watched Rickter unleash innovative combinations of magic, the mage making a note to themselves to ask him after the bout had concluded.

Which seemed like it would take longer than expected. Aoren's inclusion in the affair was... not expected, and even Avamande found themselves leaning forward in their seat at the sight of the freed Kathar donned in his husband's work, wielding his soul forged blades.

"Perhaps Charles has a point," they whispered to themselves.