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The Breath
Posted: Fri May 22, 2020 9:25 am
by Taelian
12th of Glade, Year 120
A nightmare had followed into his dreams.
He felt frigid -- cold, with icy talons slowly traveling across his form, step by step; slowly, he was encompassed. The Ebon Knight felt his breathing begin to increase. He was afraid. The Dranoch were far from associated with frost, yet in his dreams it was always such; they were cold, the winter to the summer that was the Remedy. He doubted that it was simply a cognitive attempt at dualism. Perhaps because he'd never really understood the cold - becoming resistant to it from such a young age - he feared it as one would the unknown.
All of this madness with the Joseph's had been getting to him. They had made little progress. What they had learned was that Elandria had seemingly been discovered, and last night she had died. Thus the frigid rake, the overwhelming fear, the encompassing ice. Eleanor was shaken; it was her dearest friend in the world. The one she had always been close with, since before traveling out of Sil-Elaine. When they learned they had both been stationed in Kalzasi together, they were overjoyed. For a moment, everything made sense to them. Their sisterhood had brought the two of them a purpose in their life.
But now, Elandria was dead. The weaker one -- the one prone to mistakes. It only made sense. And yet at the same time, it made so little. This revolution -- this war, even waged far outside of the bounds of Sil-Elaine -- had worn on them utterly, and of late it had left them vacant of much of their aspiration. Eleanor, right now, likely felt these negative emotions a thousand fold.
Taelian left the common area of their small estate, isolating himself to the dueling room. He exhaled, and crafted Shrivenflame around himself in doing so, watching as the fires slowly began to fall from below the ceiling. Taelian breathed again; an inhale. Slightly, the fires budged, moving towards him but not completing their journey. He began to focus on the flames themselves, viewing into their amber-colored cores, contemplating everything that had transpired. His mind was racing with thoughts. The Joseph's... they had been placed to perform a mission of espionage, of stealth and learning, of asking few questions but always ensuring they were the right ones to ask. Elandria was among their best in the realm of deception, but clearly she had somehow made a mistake.
He breathed in again. The fire drew nearer to him, closer than before. He'd been practicing like this for a while now, only he had learned that within his Famished soul, it was often with the greatest displays of emotion that he succeeded in increasing his mastery of the Sigil. And besides: this was something else. Taelian felt so close to mastering the Sigil. He was stronger than even Eleanor in the art, and so the boundaries that she had boxed herself into did not need to apply to him. He could do better than what she imagined for herself. He could kill the Joseph's, even alone.
Re: The Breath
Posted: Fri May 22, 2020 9:57 am
by Taelian
One more breath.
He could feel the aether drawing in, and pulling the fire with it; tugging it towards him. Only, it was like the flame was being held by a frayed rope, weakening but still able to keep a tight enough grip. Something felt off. He thought, perhaps, that he wasn't pulling correctly -- it was very plausible. From what he'd learned from the Revenants, though, inhaling was the proper action. Inhale -- breathe in the wind, the aether, the flame. Exigency was learned by Aldrin as he erratically breathed, an accident of nature, the sort that so often taught him a new skill.
Sigilic Pyromancy was a magic far removed from reading in books, or learning the complex theories or concepts. It was a magic centered around adrenaline, exhilaration, fear, even belief. It often came handy when one was closest to death, though just as often as it guided an apprentice of the art towards their next evolution, it allowed them to die in humiliation.
Exigency. He breathed again. The fires drew closer, and as they did he drew his silver dagger and slightly cut into his skin. As if drawn to the injury, the flame appeared to contort its shape, now aiming towards the cut he'd crafted upon his flesh. The sting of pain appeared to make the breathing easier; the fire drew in closer with each breath, and seconds later it embraced the slim shape of the cut, consuming the slight trail of blood in their heat and sealing the wound. He could see the burning scar, welded shut by flame, though he knew from what he'd heard that it would likely not stay. Only the grave injuries ever kept their scarred shape.
Still, it wasn't a perfect Exigency. It had been drawn out; it had consumed an inordinate amount of aether. It had taken far too long. Taelian cut into his shoulder this time, and crafted the flame around him once more. This time, the deeper cut and his better understanding appeared to call to the fires, and they drew in far more quickly and with more purpose. He was getting better at least, though he knew it would take him a few more tries to master the skill adequately.
Rhylor entered the room. He glanced at Taelian briefly, but said nothing, instead stepping towards the rack that vertically held his blade, kept suspended by a leather strap. He began to untie his blade from its binding, though as he did so, Taelian rose from where he sat. He inhaled one more time, and the flames drew to his wounded shoulder, quickly sealing it shut. He'd gotten a lot better.
"Rhylor," Taelian started. "Remember -- we said what something like this would mean. They're on to us now, and it's only a matter of time before we're isolated and taken out, one by one. We're fighting from a backfoot. There's no way that, continuing with Eleanor's strategy, we can win."
"We were meant to leave if something like this happens," the other Siltori said. He turned, his face downtrodden, his jaw clenched as his teeth grimaced. It was obvious that he did not want to leave -- but what choice did they have?
"I have a better alternative," Taelian said. "You've learned their daily routines. Surely, those routines will change now, particularly for the father and mother. But the children -- I doubt they're so wise. If you can help me gather their location, I can take on all of them at once. You don't need to believe me. I know what I can do."
Re: The Breath
Posted: Fri May 22, 2020 10:09 am
by Taelian
Erik, Lisa, Larsson. All three were potentially Cardinals, though they did not know that for certain. It was plausible that one or two of them were Botchlings, though based on Lisa's profession and her activities he doubted that. Likely, Erik and Lisa were Cardinals, while Larsson was a wild-card. Supposedly he did not leave the estate incredibly often, which could have been due to reclusive behaviors, or could have been due to his bloodlust as a Botchling. Taelian couldn't be certain until he met with him in a sustained engagement.
Of course, Rhylor was reticent. Not because he did not want to hunt the Dranoch with Taelian, but because he didn't want to go against the will of Eleanor, who was their superior, an Ashwraith. If Taelian died, the two of them would likely be hunted, a vulnerability of theirs exposed. Taelian's death would mean the death of them all; it would forbid the chance of escape. But they knew they weren't going to get reinforcements -- they would have to run back to Kalzasi; it would mean the failure of their mission. And as much as Taelian wished to return to be with Riven, he wasn't going to do so under the pretense of failure. He couldn't let Elandria's death be in vain.
"Fine," he quietly whispered. "I've been told by the dockworkers, employees at Westweald, that the Joseph's are going on a hunting trip through the valleys leading south towards the Imperium. It's a good opportunity to fight them, but -- it would be all five of them. Not the three children. There's no way you can accomplish something like that on your own, Taelian; absolutely no way. You'd need Eleanor and I -- perhaps we could take on Yoren and Clara while you handle the three. But... I'm not as good as you or Eleanor. I've never been a great fighter. I can't help but feel I'll be a burden to Eleanor, and we'd both fail in battle before you could kill the three. I can't see the possibility of surviving."
"I can," said Taelian. "I'll give you two of my Marghozad, Veravend's hounds. They're Archetypes; remember how I told you that I've picked up Summoning? The last time I fought a Cardinal, I had a few of them at my side. Unfortunately, the circumstances now are rather different, as that time it was two Cardinals... and only one at a time. But I've gotten stronger since then, very much so. I think I can do it, Rhylor. And with the two Marghozad, I think you can also succeed. Just send them after Clara so that she can't assassinate one of you while you're engaged with Yoren -- reinforce them as necessary, but keep each of the Cardinals isolated from one another. You know how to fight them."
"I do," he replied.
"Then that's all we need. We'll just need to convince Eleanor, then. But I think we can."
Re: The Breath
Posted: Sun Jun 07, 2020 9:43 am
by Leliana
Taelian Ela'Rannoch
[indent=30]Experience: 5 points toward Siglic Pyromancy
[indent=30]Knowledge:
[indent=30]Sigilic Pyromancy: Exigency
[indent=30]Sigilic Pyromancy: Learning Exigency through breathing
[indent=30]Sigilic Pyromancy: Exigency is drawn to wounds
[indent=30]Sigilic Pyromancy: Sigilic Pyromancy is best learned through conflict
[indent=30]Tactics: Isolating Dranoch
[indent=30]Tactics: Organizing a Dranoch Hunt
[indent=30]Injuries/Overstepping: None
[indent=30]Comments:
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I always enjoy the fluid incorporation of social interaction with skill training. It makes for a more diverse thread, but you didn't diverge too much from the core of what you were focusing on. It was more like a garnish, which is nice. I'm still learning about what is really going on with this group, so I can't say I follow the plot too well, but it was a good read and I'm looking forward to more.