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Post by Duma on Apr 17, 2015 8:55:25 GMT -6
It had been two days since the bandit attack on Derran. Fortunately, most of the village citizens had evacuated and rain had taken care of most of the fires. The village was ransacked but it's people were a hardy lot they would rebuild. The few buildings of stone that remained undamaged by fire now served as makeshift shelters for the displaced.
The sword master had managed to find a place for himself in the monastery. Under the care of the monks. His shoulder was healed, given some salve, and bandaged up. He was told to avoid using it for at least a week. He was fortunate the burn was mostly minor. If it had dug deeper into his muscle he could have potentially lost use of his arm. But the swordsman could not just sit still and heal while others were busy. Unable to do most of the "men's" work due to his shoulder, he occupied himself doing some lighter "women's" work.
Today he kept himself busy peeling potatoes, chopping vegetables, in the kitchen. The nearby farms were fortunate not to have been set to torch and other villages had come by to aid with the restoration. Tomorrow his day would be full of drilling what remained of the village guard. Hopefully after their witnessing of a bandit attack would have them be more conscious of their training.
As his bucket of fresh peels spilled over the swordsman went to go dump the contents out in the nearby compost heap. The garden of the church was separated from most of the main town by a small wooden fence. Anyone could see him stepping out to empty out his bucket.
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Post by Drei on Apr 21, 2015 7:34:52 GMT -6
Drei sat in a patch of still green grass under a tree near the villages church. His hood was tucked over his head; and for the most part he had been lingering in and out of slumber. Usually he didn't sleep much, or well. However like most people after exerting any major form of effort or exhausting themselves; it came all the easier when tired. His palms were clasped with his elbows resting on his knees as he leaned his head against the tall rigid(Yet oddly comfortable) bark of the tree. Ashen hair covered parts of his face messily blocking his eyes a bit as he gazed through the strands, the shadow cast by his hood offering a sense of sheltered protection from the outside world while he rested. It was clear that the small town was bustling more than usual as people moved about working on repairs. Drei would have helped them; but his body was too fatigued from the toll of his magic the night prior.
His limbs weren't overly sore, and his muscles did not throb or ache. However his mind was heavy. The physical tolls of magic were far more fleeting than the internal ones. The body could be drained of energy until nourished and rested, leaving even menial tasks as an arduous labor. He tilted his head as he heard footsteps. The tall green haired figure was known to him. This man, carrying a bucket of vegtable leavings was someone Drei had seen a few times now. As the man approached the shaman spoke; still resting and otherwise entirely still in the shadows of his little tree and grove but drawing attention to himself enough to be revealed. "It's Mr. Swordsman. Hello, how are you faring?"
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Post by Duma on Apr 21, 2015 13:13:52 GMT -6
As the swordsman dumped the contents of his bucket he took note of how nice the day was. The sun was shining and the air was crisp. He contemplating weather or not to take off the robe part of his garb. He would simply be left in his sleeveless black shirt and pants. He scratched his chest for a moment. The bandages that poked their heads through his folds were itchy. Perhaps not. A voice had addressed him. Mr. Swordsman? He assumed the voice must have come from one of the children of the church. In order for him to be addressed in such a manner. Duma looked around. He spied a figure underneath the shade of a nearby tree. He recognized the young shaman, Drei. The swordsman figured he had the time for a small break and walked over to join the young shaman. If memory served he had seen him fighting off against another mage during the attack.
"Good day Drei." He greeted in a casual tone. The swordsman flipped his bucket and placed it down on the ground then sat on it.
"Are you alright?" He asked with some concern in his voice. Duma knew the situation of the young shaman. The boy who had been orphaned by Etruria's people. He wondered how he was handling fighting. How he had coped with the effects of the Nether. But he knew he couldn't ask these questions directly. The swordsman only knew the boy briefly. He waited for a response before continuing.
"I saw you fighting the mage in an attempt to defend the village. For that I'd like to thank you."
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Post by Drei on Apr 21, 2015 19:57:44 GMT -6
"You don't need to thank me. They are kind people here. It was the right thing to do." Despite his cold exterior, Drei wasn't heartless. He could appreciate all too well the rarity of kindness in such times. That the people had offered him refuge and sanctuary despite his profession and lifestyle simply meant that they were worth preserving. The world needed more people like them. Drei did not necessarily dismiss the man's concern, but simply addressed it in a slightly direct manner. Though his tone did not reflect it; his entire body was still aching from within. Not physically, but cognitively. As if his soul it's self was weary; and his mind bound by weights and laboring simply to perform basic functions.
"I am, or atleast will be. Worry not, I suffered no real harm..simply tired and weary. Elder Magic is powerful; but I find that it can often be very taxing. Using your body as a conduit for such unbridled power isn't as great as the mad-men in the history books would have you believe. It starts to fog your mind, and slow you down. Imagine if you had to carry backs of potatoes upon your back, yet could not remove them. I feel similar to such as it is. So here I rest until such a time where I am comfortable moving again. What about yourself? I heard you sustained some injuries. Were you indeed harmed?"
Though Drei's tone did not change nor express concern, the concern could be shown simply in the fact that he asked. Drei was seldom one to mince words. His his amber hues lingered upon the Swordsman he maintained his meditative position; simply resting so that his body could recuperate.
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Post by Duma on Apr 23, 2015 12:37:37 GMT -6
"Yes. I remember your lecture about dark magic." The swordsman recalled the shamans chat about the Nether. How it takes a toll on the mind of its shaman in exchange for power. How one should excersise caution when dealing with the effects of the Nether. And of how gruesome the Nether can twist the bodies of its casters opponent.
"The body feels lighter once the potato sack is removed though." He sighed softly.
"I understand the metaphor. Yes. I was injured unfortunately. By a bandit who wielded light magic. The holy power of the human will manifested in a dazzling form." Duma spoke with some annoyance in his voice. He thought it ironic a bandit of all people wielded magic that was generally seen as "good". And how said bandit was able to channel that magic into his body through his fist or his tounge.
"And I took it directly to the shoulder." He grumbled. He gently pulled open a small bit of his tone to show off the bandages.
"Hopefully, this one won't turn blue." He cracked a small wry smile. It was Duma's poor attempt at humor. Perhaps he could coax at least a small smile from Drei. Hardships or not, it is unhealthy to keep brooding.
It was at this point he noticed the young shaman meditative posture. Duma was a novice when it came to the art. He enjoyed the stretching and deep breathing exercises. To a point where he could even use it in combat to hone his focus in preparation for lethal blows. To him Drei seemed to be a bit more advanced. He recalled how the shaman had managed to keep still for so long back at the campfire.
"Hey. Drei where did you learn your meditation? I apologize in advance if it brings up painful memories. But I am in need of a refresher lesson on the craft."
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Post by Drei on Apr 23, 2015 13:27:26 GMT -6
Light magic. As a shaman he naturally disliked it. It's association with Etruria only bastardized it further for him. It was precise, and it was fast magic. Though it often caused the least damage of the three known and practiced magics, it's speed and accuracy allowed them to combat practitioners of Elder Magic in precise ways. Not to mention the elementally aspected advantage. The Nether found the light it's greatest foe, and it's powers wavered often in the face of it. However as Duma made a comment, Drei's lips cracked into a slight smirk. Despite his hood masking most of his face the young ashen haired boy was unable to hide the grin. He didn't comment though, not knowing of Duma's scar nor wanting to bring up otherwise potentially rude commentary. He did however turn to gaze at the man as he asked Drei about his meditation.
It brought back fond memories. Out of place, but fond ones. Drei spoke up after a moment, looking back up to the sky with his head leaned back comfortably against the tree. His hands still clasped. "My mother and father both showed me. My Mother practiced it more than my father did. Though when my father would, ironically it wasn't to recoup from Elder Magic. It was so he could commune with spirits of nature. He learned how to harness and use Anima magic shortly before I was born, in addition to Elder Magic. He used to always say -" As Drei spoke the words, he could practically hear his father speaking them to him. "If I better understand the impacts I make, onto life around me I can appreciate just how precious it truly is. That way, I understand just what is worth protecting." It was a bit sappy, to hear himself say it...but in context it almost stole the air from his lungs and words from his mouth to think back on how his father protected him. It filled him with a bitter regret. His expression didn't change though, and his typical mask of impervious neutrality remained unwavering. Even his tone hid it perfectly.
He continued speaking to the swordsman a moment later. "Sitting this way allows the energy within the body to circulate and settle properly. You can be at ease and clear your mind, so that your body can focus only on mending wounds and easing worries. As if time lingers in the stage of irrelevance. "
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Post by Duma on Apr 23, 2015 20:50:15 GMT -6
Duma saw it. Drei had finally cracked a smile. Unsure if he was smiling due to the bad joke or due to his mutual distain from light magic. Either way Drei's small grin gave Duma a small bit of relief. The smile vanished as quickly as it came.
He listened as the young shaman spoke about his family. How his father had taught him the way of meditation in order to gain a better understanding of the spirits. In order to get a better understanding at life. He remembered a similar lesson from his mother. She had taken the twins out to the forest. She had forced the both of them to explore and report back on what they had seen. They learned about the spirits of the earth,sky,water,fire, and how it was all connected to each other within the boundaries of the forest. They both learned a valuable lesson about nature and life.
"Your father was a wise man. I have adopted a similar method of meditation and applied it to my sword work. The results have been fruitful. If I were not injured I would show you." He paused for a moment to give Drei as chance to speak.
"Ah, Well listen. If you need anything from the village let me know. You can rest at the church and get some food. I will be here for a few days. Helping the citizens rebuild, until my shoulder fully heals."
From one of the church doors the swordsman heard someone call his name. Duma sighed softly.
"Well, looks like my break is over." He spoke softly. Then turned his head over to the door.
"Alright! Alright! Just one more moment!" He shouted back. The swordsman slowly got up and picked up the bucket he was using as a makeshift stool. He would linger a little while longer.
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Post by Drei on Apr 24, 2015 14:42:15 GMT -6
Drei inclined his head forwards to nod quietly. His tone wasn't bitter, it wasn't scornful, nor housing any discernible trace of attitude; simply acknowledging what was a perceived fact to him. "Yes...He was. You've no need to worry over showing me however. I can imagine similar things that would bring about the results you mention. " Drei went quiet again for a few moments. Simply passively waiting to speak as the man explained his willingness to assist. Again Drei nodded his shoulder before looking upwards partially; gaze lingering for a few moments. "It's okay. Trust me when I say I will be stationary for quite some time. Though if I need something I will speak up, thank you. I hope your shoulder recovers swiftly good sir."
Drei's gaze did not drift as he overheard another calling to him. Drei's eyes closed quietly as he retreated within the shell of thoughts to ponder briefly. As Duma informed him that he would leave, the ashen haired shaman could hear the shuffling of feet and the slight groan of wood upon handle of the bucket. He spoke after a brief pause, while the swordsman moved to step away. "I'm glad you were merely injured, and not killed Duma. Too many good people I know have died. The people of this town are an example of that as well. You're doing a good service by helping them...beyond just menial obligations morally. It's people like them, and you that make the world a better place worth striving for. Do not forget that, nor that places like this will continue to need help. " Though he paused, he went quiet and was content to let the man return to his duties. Drei had done enough talking for the time.
[end thread]
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