A Series of Ridiculous Events

[Tabarnac]

25th Spring, 512 A.V. The entire Bronze Woods felt strange and there was no denying it. But the Windoak decreed Sergeant Knight Evander Marster should leave his wing behind and take only his squire, Verus Aelius, and Xalet the Akalak along with him on what might have been a routine quest if the magic that made up the world hadn't gone crazy bananas at the beginning of Spring. The Konti seeress had foreseen something and the Windoak had spoken with regard to who must be sent to deal with it. If Ser Evander thought it was a bad idea, he kept it to himself. They were north of the Bronze Watchtower, probably west of Pavi Lake now. The goat track they rode on was hardly big enough for their horses, but it crested a rise, they could see the sparkle of the Suvan Sea through the trees here and there. He hadn't told them much, just that a certain location was to be seized by enemies of Syliras, and they were to prevent it. Simple, right? Ser Evander was a youngish knight, recently married, his pretty wife with child. He had grumbled at one point that if Verus earned his spurs, he would be out a babysitter. Verus really wanted to earn his spurs. "We're almost the--" he began, head turning to speak to the squires, but whatever he had meant to say was cut off by a startled shout as a huge bear, clearly mutated by wild djed to sizes beyond that even of the storied direbeasts of Taldera. Shocked, Verus drew his sword and was glad his shield was already on his arm. But he had to screw up his courage to charge. The thing was peeling armor off his ser with chilling ferocity and speed. His horse screamed in terror, but he managed to face it forward and kick it into a possibly suicidal attack. "Oh, fuck, wank, bugger, shitting ass, head in a hole..." and it went downhill from there, but, to his credit, he did charge the beast.

[Xalet]

What a strange twist of events this all was. Thirty years of life, living at the helm of his body, and all for the glory of finally achieving Knighthood. Now, these few times when Xuphim was graciously allowed to have control came the time of potential Knighthood? It wasn't funny, but the dark brother was certainly having his fill of laughs. How much more would he get to experience in his short time with full reign of the outside body? The enormous Djed cataclysm, and now a quest involving a Knight and another squire. A couple of dozen days and Xuphim had experienced more than Xalet had in a couple of dozen years.

Smugly the Akalak lifted his waterskin up to his mouth as his horse walked along the path with the other two men. Little did he realize just how much the outside world had changed from all of that raw power polluting the very ground he and his mount walked on, as well as all the creatures that couldn't protect themselves from it's chaotic energy. That ignorance changed the moment he laid his eyes upon that thing. Droplets of water, having warmed to ambient temperature from their travels, flew from his lips as the skin flopped down to his waist, held only by the leather throng that kept it upon his belt.

Thoughts became muddy and muddled, but he observed the squire entering the proximity of his potential death. "Xuphim, we've got to get in there." Xalet spoke from the back of his mind. Even when not in full control, both halves were aware, and experienced everything in kind.

"Heh, just stay right where you are, I'll show you how I run things around here." Xuphim replied, but Xalet knew better. Akalak or not, when dealing with a mutated monster bear a sense of uncertainty was impossible to shake. Having lashed his reigns and forcing his own horse forward, Xuphim's right hand reached for the first of his blades. The strange Stardown metal hummed at his touch, it's length vibrating almost invisibly. He couldn't get to his shield in time, and so instead as the first weapon was drawn from it's sheath that hand quickly gripped part of the reigns as best he could, while his offhand slid across his back and drew the second sword of the pair. Kasai and Ivkai.

Xalet's discipline was top notch, but Xuphim's instinct was superior. The divine sense of his Evantia Aura was already attempting to reach forward to encompass that creature, every bit of aid would be needed. Xuphim's fighting style wasn't restricted by honor or morals, he seized every chance for victory he could. He could also remember the feelings Xalet felt when those Knights had lost their lives to the Ebonstryfe. That kind of grief was the fire that boiled his blood, and kept his muscles moving when they could have froze in fear.

As he drew closer his left leg began to creep across the saddle, preparing to dismount when close enough and go straight for the creature. "Xuphim! We are at an advantage atop the horse!" Xalet tried to reason. The Akalak was no stranger to the proper training he had received in mounted combat involving both the sword, shield, and crossbow.

But where Xalet had his force of will, Xuphim had his pride. Both were tools that kept them striving for their goals. "You'd rather lose yet another horse?! This sack of meat below me isn't prepared enough, warhorse or no. We don't need it. We will destroy this creature without it, because we are Akalak!" It was a good speech, but there was no lying to the other side of himself, Xuphim wasn't exactly certain how much the years of training and experience could prepare him for a battle against something unnatural.

[Tabarnac]

Whereas Verus must needs rely upon his horse's weight and strength, the Akalak was much bigger and stronger than him. And even the warhorses were herbivores trained toward aggression, and not natively aggressive carnivores. Not like those frightening Bloodbanes out of Ravok! Xalet's mount shied, but did not bolt. Its training told it not to abandon its herdmates, but its instincts screamed get the fuck out!!! Verus had provided enough distraction for Evander to pull a knife and stab feebly into the beast's leg, but it was clear to the Akalak, if not to Verus, that he would not survive this encounter. It was nobly done, though; he would go down fighting in an attempt to preserve the lives of the squires. Such a noble thing, a knight. As the Akalak's sensed pitched onto a new level, he noted the creeping weakness behind Evander's last gasp strength, the way hours of repetition in weapons training had left their mark on Verus' attacks even when the adrenaline and fear made thinking nigh impossible, and he got a sense for how the thing that had been a bear thought based on how it was moving down to a more detailed degree than anyone had a right to. But when he closed with the beast, it quickly deduced that he was the most pressing danger, even with the dying knight tearing into its flesh and the mounted squire attacking with no mean skill. And when he closed with the beast, Verus moved into another set of skills, those hammered into squires that allowed them to work well with other knights. This might have been more effective if Xalet were himself, but now Xuphim ruled the roost, fighting only for himself, and what would have been an inspired tandem attack suddenly left the bear beast bleeding, but unhorsed Verus too.

[Xalet]

It was lucky the Akalak had the amount of horseback training he did. Dangling from the side of a horse moving at a gallop left a mark on a person's memory bank, one which was not so easily erased. Xuphim had attacked, apparently in synch with the squire opposite him although the attempt was not necessarily with reason to do so. Xuphim's head was filled with tactical awareness, but he was more selfish where Xalet was more flexible. Knights and Squires practiced against one another, but also in groups. Teamwork was invaluable, and knowing how to follow orders made a wing both efficient and deadly.

Xuphim had lept from his horse to attack, although the amount of wounding he had accomplished was questionable. His silvery eyes darted to catch a glimpse of Verus, and for the moment it seemed Evander would be able to continue breathing. Understanding the way Xuphim's mind worked was a complexity when brought before his Light brother Xalet. Xalet would save a man because it was noble, Xuphim would save a man because it would reflect poorly upon him to let one die. No matter what the Akalak fought for, his blood showered his muscles with oxygen, preparing them for further battle.

"Xuphim, keep the thing flanked. You and Verus must attack from different angles! An attack upon a blind side is more able to do harm." instructed Xalet. Typically Xuphim would have disregarded any extraneous information brought forth by his brother, but since the day they had learned to work together, even slightly, he could at least consider this tactic and weigh it's value.

"That squire better know what he's doing." grumbled Xuphim, only able to continue the conversation due to it's medium. He and his other half existed in a consciousness, and unlike two men speaking toward each other across a tavern table their dialog moved at the speed of thought.

"Take it's base out! We need to get this thing down on the ground!" Xuphim shouted. His words weren't held back, he needed to keep the creatures attention so that Verus could recover into an attack position after being unhorsed. Often having mixed his sword and unarmed training, Xuphim's feet hopped a bit as his weight rested evenly across the balls of his feet. Knees were bent, arms were brought in close to the body. With a target like that hideous creature covered in muscle, a thrust was superior to a cut. He had to keep his body moving, despite the weight of his armor. He had to prepare appropriately for an incoming attack by reading the beast's body and keeping his Evantia sharp. He had to force his muscles to remain as loose as possible, despite how desperately they wanted to tense up. Xuphim couldn't hide his fear from Xalet, but Xalet also recognized that such fear was rooted more in failure, rather than their own potential death. Xuphim didn't want to be responsible in the loss of more Knights.

When the time came, Xuphim raced in, as his short swords needed to be wielded in close. His thrusts targetted any place they could potentially reach a vital or an artery. He remembered the techniques Xalet had been taught by that tobacco chewing short sword wielding Knight. Keep the elbows in flush with the upper ribs, fire them out and twist the hips. Retract the weapon every bit as fast as you stabbed with it. If he needed to, he could even leave one of his weapons imbedded into the meat of the creature, just so long as he had one left to rely on, as well as his hands and feet. His previous plan was still valid, however. They needed to ground this creature so that it could not come down upon them, then pounce themselves and dig away at it's life force in anyway possible. Xuphim wasn't about to try and wrestle with something that large and mutated, but he would never discount the power of his punches after years of strength and martial arts training. That seven foot tall body of his had some leverage, it was time to see if between the two squires they could force an opening and save the Knight and themselves.

[Tabarnac]

Verus was up on his feet and into the fray at a commendable speed, and his horse, a Tiaden warhorse bought for him by a wealthy father, reared and kicked at the great bugbear, too. Ser Evander's teeth were pink, his grimace besmeared with bright crimson, but his teeth were set and his dagger plunged over and over into the demon's leg until it stepped on him, crushing his steel breastplate and his chest beneath it, ending him in a moment. When Xuphim's attacks distracted the thing sufficiently, Verus dropped low, his sword a shining arc that nearly severed the beast's leg. It bellowed in pain and rage, its paw lashing out and knocking the slender Verus off his feet and into a nearby tree, which knocked him down to his knees, apparently dazed. But he had accomplished what Evander could not: blood flowed liberally from its leg and it limped without grace, shrieking its hatred as it flailed at Xuphim, but now, if the Akalak was wily, there were openings aplenty to finish it off quickly and cleanly. Just as it had for Ser Evander.

[Xalet]

It seemed the two squires had worked in tandem decently, which was a feat in itself. Xuphim didn't work well with anyone unless death was on the line. It was a pity that line was about to be sufficiently crossed. He followed that large foot traveling upwards, his own body shuffling in and out of engagement as he fought to get in close and help topple the creature, or land a deciding blow. "Noooo!" he shouted out, his voice trembling on the verge of a cry. It was as if his words would have stopped that mutated creature from finishing it's mortal action. They didn't. Just like that another Knight had died in front of his eyes. Even if Xalet wasn't at the helm of the body, just as he wasn't the last time a Knight died, he still wasn't spared the feeling of watching someone from the Order perish. Xuphim, for all of his rage and selfishness couldn't help but respect the kind of challenges a man had to face to become a Knight. Every Knight faced adversaries and came out victorious, that was what it took to become a Knight. All that work, and just like that it was all over. That was the kind of thing that made the dark soul furious. It made him lust for blood. Lust for combat not to protect, but to exact vengeance. That was Priskil's teachings as well, wasn't it? It wasn't simply about bringing hope, or defending faith, it was also about delivering justice to those deserving. Sweet, painful, bladed justice. "You...son of a bitch!" Xuphim huffed, feeling his teeth clenching so terribly hard behind his lips. His hands clutched his blades as he dashed forward during one of the beasts tottering moments. That left hand of his wasn't so good yet, not as good as the right, not by a long shot. He had just enough left of his sanity that hadn't gone toward killing the thing in front of him to know that. His solleret slammed down as he got inside as close as he could, hips twisting violently as he lashed out with his right arm. It was a technique taught to him for use with a bare hand, but it could be performed with two weapons, he surmised. The 'pin' as it was called, was a grip with a free hand to immobilize a target, followed by repeated stabbings with the weapon hand. Instead, he would attempt the pin with his dominant hand, his right blade, and if successful would follow up against a more stationary target with his left hand. He would dig a path through that things entrails if he had the chance. The muscles beneath his armor burned with fiery blood as they went to work, covered in the tingling sensation of adrenaline washing throughout his entire bodily system. It was time to put all that body building to good use.

[Tabarnac]

Though the blood was gushing out of the great beast, its enormous strength diminished, it was still a match for Xuphim. The horses, battle-trained though they might be, had shied away, both in fear and not wanting to trample their masters. As Xuphim continued to rain punishing blows upon the demon bear, he caught sight of Verus standing on wobbling legs out of the corner of his eye, but it was all he could do to fend the bear off, and his attention to Verus was fleeting, but in a moment he saw him again, this time having climbed the storm bear's back dagger sinking into its shoulder. There were angry tears in the squire's eyes, his jaw clenched with determination, and the dagger came free and stabbed again and again. The bear tried to shake him off, but this only allowed Xuphim to land more telling strikes, and then a swipe caught the Akalak squire in the hip, knocking him aside like a rag doll. His pelvic girdle just might have shattered it hurt so badly. His sight swam. Another roar sounded and it was full of rage and pain, racing through the trees unseen. Next thing he knew, there was a weight upon him, a hand burning against his chest. There was a woman's face, fair and dark-haired. "Mercy," she demanded. Her words seared through his befuddlement. "If you would be a Knight, show mercy to my child."

[Xalet]

Hot breath poured from Xuphim's mouth as his body worked into a desperate overdrive. It was the type of exertion that would have him feeling the strain for days. But not now. For now he felt nothing, no pain at all. All he could feel was his muscles pulling and flexing, moving those light blades as fast as his body could manage. It was his first tangle with a beast this powerful, and although he had fought skilled men and women in the past, he wondered if this was clearly the more difficult fight. The Akalak he was ten years ago would have been dead by now. Images of his own corpse lying besides the Knights flashed as he narrowly dodged a blow, only to follow it up reflexively with a hasty lunge. As the blade sunk into flesh he turned his body into the direction of a potential oncoming attack, just as he was taught. His second blade remained ready, barely turning a parry into slash. That was the stop cut maneuver he had learned all those years ago. Everything was falling into place, all of that training, all of that muscle memory was keeping him alive. He was starting to recognize the difference between engaging and disengaging at exact times, this was the difference from the novice he once was. He saw the opening, the bear's attention was split completely as his fellow Squire pulled a reckless move. Taking advantage, Xuphim raced in and spun his right foot in a semi-circle, swiveling his hips and striking down a particularly deep stab by utilizing the rotational momentum of his entire body, his left blade followed in suit with a more shallow wound. As he attempted to retract his weapons however, it was apparent the right blade become stuck on something. That moment of hesitation was all that it took to turn his world upside down, literally. He watched as the scenery spun before him, a sharp pain starting from his side and traveling throughout his body. His body completed two full rolls upon the ground before finally coming to a stop. If he hadn't done all that core and abdominal work the strike probably would have broken in him half. Through the blur of his watering eyes he started to attempt to regain mobility in his body, only to feet a great weight forcing it's way down upon his chest. Through that same blur he saw a woman. Dark-hair, fair skin. Was it...Priskil? Xalet might have known better, but Xuphim in his murky mindset wouldn't be quite so discerning. Regardless of who she was, his one weakness loomed atop of him, a woman. "Son of a bitch..." he grumbled under his gasping breath, finally letting his body relax flat onto the soil. The comment wasn't directed to this woman, but to the situation in general. He knew the punishment for slaying a Knight. There was only one punishment, death. Xuphim wasn't one to show mercy either, but he would never go against the direction of his Goddess. "Syliras...the Order...just lost something irreplaceable." rather poetic words from someone so brutish. Regardless if he was considered the dark-half or not, over two decades of being with the Knights had taught him the difference between a man and a Knight.

[Tabarnac]

"So too is my child," spake She. In the space between breaths, between heartbeats, she was up and off of him. Verus screamed. It was meant to be a battlecry; Xuphim could sense both how he was attempting to stave off fear and how he was only managing to do so in part. But that was bravery, one could suppose, standing and fighting despite one's fear, distracting a monster to save a fallen shield-brother's life for even a few moments longer. Verus was not as skilled as Xuphim, but he was smart. Even with the rush of adrenaline, he seemed to be thinking straight enough to make a real go of getting the both of them out of this. But Oriana's bear companion roared, enough to distract Verus long enough for the stormborn bear to knock him down, and as he struggled to his hands and knees, he was coughing blood. But when the roar faded, Oriana was singing, and the sound was sweet, recalling to Xuphim and Verus both the sound of mother and wet-nurse, of the one time in their lives they felt completely safe and secure and beloved. This, at least, distracted the monstrous bear, who seemed confused and began to whimper as it sat back on its wounded haunches. Before their eyes, it began to regress through its adolescence, the goddess stripping it of the seasons that took it through the djed storm. It might have been her power or some favor owed by Tanroa, but it was certainly a miracle. When her song was done, a bear cub sat there among the blood and the dead. It made a strange chirrup or yip, and Verus moaned as Kuma dragged him by the back of his armor to be laid out beside Xuphim. "Are you--" he coughed, "--all right?" he asked, though he was clearly worse off than Xuphim himself.

[Xalet]

Goddess of whatever he was faced with, when Xuphim noticed that the bear was still prepared to slaughter whoever it could get it's paws on he moved to pull his body upward until he rested atop his knees. The simple movement from his back to his knees felt like he had scaled an entire mountain. Sharp pains that wandered about his mid-section struck up and down the length of his torso, reminding him just how recently it was that he had been forced to imitate a birds flight. His hands fished around for his weapons, but no sooner had he found them did the song of the woman grace his ears, and forcibly shove the thoughts of violence from his mind. His blurry eyes had difficulty adjusting to see what was happening before him. The bear, the creature that had attacked the trio of Sylirans...was changing? Not just changing, it was regressing in size and...age. He peeled off his helm and allowed it to drop to the ground, sweeping the bottom edge of his tabard across his eyes, attempting to clear the built up sweat that sat atop his brow ridge just waiting for the moment it could all roll downward into his eyes. Soon enough Verus was next to the Akalak, taking a moments rest upon his hands and knees. "Me? I'm fine, it takes more than that to put an Akalak down. You look like hammered crap though." Xuphim made a show of his overall health as he thrust upward onto his feet. Once there he only remained for a moment before crashing back down onto his knees, twisting his head to the side just before a stream of vomit came crashing outward past his tongue and teeth. "This is pathetic...I've never been so bad off." his negative thoughts caused him to brood about the most recent events. "You...you changed it. Changed the bear. Change Ser Evander...can't you? Make him as he once was?" he called out to Oriana as the back of his gauntlet rubbed against the bottom of his lip to clear away some stomach debris. Even now, Xuphim did not know this woman's name. He only knew that his eyes had laid witness to strange powers on this day, and above all things that power needed to bring the Knight back to life, back to his Syliran duties.