Closed So Nu...What do you know? [Evalin]

[Azmere]

85th of Fall, 515 AV

The days were getting colder and the air was becoming damp. These were typical at the end of the season. Winter was subtle in her approach but she came on like a spearback during mating season. Azmere didn’t mind the cooler air. It often left him wondering if the breezes off of the Suvan Sea felt different. He had often heard merchants and traders talk about the large body of water. Their stories ranged from beautiful and magical to terrifying and cruel. It was very much like the Sea of Grass in that contrast. Still, it was something to think about.

Azmere didn’t waste any time enjoying his free time. Having a job that didn’t pay very well tended to eat up a great deal of one’s days. He and Hephiestian had been riding since the sky began to brighten bells before the sun rose. They had stopped so that Hephiestian could eat some roughage and Azmere couldn’t resist a bit of landmark exercise. Since it was only a casual journey, Azmere left his rucksack in his tent. He dismounted, removed his pack and moved towards the strange rock that had initially caught his attention. It was over ten feet tall and seemed to have three different ledges like an award podium. The center was near seven feet in height with a shelf that ran through the entire stone about four feet across. On the left was the tallest of the three and the plane at its apex appeared to twist from left to right at varying angles. The right platform was comprised of a multitude of levels, layers, ridges, shelves and other random shapes and protrusions. Azmere adjusted his quiver’s strap so it wouldn’t shift then shrugged his bow over his head and behind him.

Hephiestian paused from his grazing and looked to his rider while idly chewing on a mouthful of clover. Azmere turned his head when he heard the horse huff. He smirked at the big galoot and turned his focus back to the natural obelisk before him. Azmere rubbed his hands together to dry any moisture and then moved with purpose towards the right side. He found a handhold for his left hand and a nice little lip a few feet off the ground to place his right foot. He pulled with his arm and pushed with his leg which elevated his body. Azmere had already mapped out a path but the mechanics took more time than it seemed. He found a handhold for his right hand and spot to rest his left foot but it didn’t have much to bite. The ascent was time consuming and draining on his muscles but the cool, moist air was refreshing and seemed to make his energy last longer than it would in the summer. Azmere made deliberate choices of handholds and footholds but twice he was forced to back down a step and choose a new route.

Once he got close enough, Azmere swung his grip towards the center and maneuvered until he was able to reach the center ledge. He got both hands on the ledge and allowed his arms to slowly extend until he was simply hanging down the center of the huge stone. Azmere’s body was almost as red as the exposed part of his face from all of the exertion. With determined will and a huge helping of stubbornness, Azmere pulled his body up using just his arms until his chin cleared the ledge. The composition of the rock was strange and foreign to Azmere but it was cool and dense. He paused only a second and then lowered himself back down once more. Upon completing seven pull-ups, Azmere found his strength waning and didn’t stop by just clearing his chin. He tossed his right arm up and used it as an anchor to hoist his body up onto the lowest level on top of the pillar. He was breathing heavily but managed to get to his feet and sit on the left ledge.

The height gave him an amazing view that stretched for what seemed like eternity in all directions. Azmere was a bit taken by the sheer size of his homeland. He made sure to gaze in all directions and soak up as much of the scenery as he could. He chattered with Hephiestian in their own unique dialect of Pavi which was almost exclusively signs. The horse stayed relatively close to the obelisk but didn’t eat the lush green grass that was at its base. Azmere didn’t notice this right away but he did think it odd that the strider would not stand in the shade of the object.

After a few moments of rest, the young man used the unique layout of the upper part for another exercise. He propped his feet up on the right side and set his palms on the edge of the left. With controlled breathing, Azmere lowered his body into the center’s void and then flexed his triceps to bring himself back to level. He did this in slow, smooth and very controlled movements making sure to flex at the points where momentum or direction changed. Sweat formed on his head, neck, back and arms then collected and ran in tiny rivulets down his body. Azmere loved to work out almost as much as he enjoyed riding around on Hephiestian. Everything in its place and time.

Word Count906

Scars are just stories that we wear. - Asmodeus

Textbox by Firenze

[Evalin]

What do you suppose it is? Evalin wondered absently to herself. Ever since she had first heard of this 'traveling' city the Immortal had been unable to clear it from her mind. The very idea of it seemed observed. A city that moved from place to place? How could that even be possible? Was it magical? Did it ride on the back of some larger creature?

The quickly chilling breeze from the north made Evalin's eyes blink open as she glazed off in the direction that the wind now blew. Her raven black hair whipped about her head, yet the Nuit paid it no mind. Her knees were pulled up close to her bare chest, thin arms wrapped around her shins with her palms cupped upward. Floating just over the surface of her hands was the small mirror like ball that was her Familiar, Tsenrika, silent and thoughtful as ever.

Biting her lip Evalin shrugged and closed her eyes once more, resting her head against the rock that was at her back. Her mind was tilting this way and that, wandering to different thoughts and pondering as she continued to puzzle over the possibilities of such a city as had been described to her.

Someone is climbing the rocks. Without opening her eyes Evalin let her and Tsenrika's minds intermingle, connecting their senses until she could see through the Irylid's own gaze. There, just as he had said, she saw someone, a man, climbing upward upon the rocks though she only knew this from the brief glimpses she caught between the cracks and gaps of the stones. He was just on the other side of the formation.

Another? Evalin slowly stood, resting her hand on the stone as she looked up through the gaps with her own red eyes to assess the man's movements, How odd to see so many in such a short time.

Perhaps this is a well known landmark for the area. Tsenrika suggested as he floated up to hover over the Immortal's shoulder, Though I sense no latent magic in the structure, and we have seen no carvings that would cause it to stand out.

Indeed, it is just a rock after all. Evalin wondered what she should do. Should she approach this one as well? Should she stay hidden? It took only a few ticks to decide. Evalin was never the type to simply hide and skulk about, and so almost without realizing it her djed leaped nimbly and readily to her mental grasp, more than willing to respond to the gentle nudges placed upon it.

It was a familiar model, one her body was used to taking on and it came quickly to mind even as her djed adjusted to accommodate. Plucking at the strands of her very being, vibrating them and shifting them with flaming mental fingers Evalin began to shape her physical self. Extra mass was pulled from her body to collect on her back in two masses which quickly bulged outward. Long, straight bones formed one after another, skin and muscle swirling and wrapping around even as a membrane spread between the elongated fingers that were the scaffold for the Nightmare Bat Wings that were created. It took only around thirty seconds and the wings were in place, each six feet in length when fully spread and when Evalin flexed those muscles the air around her sighed with their powerful beats.

Extending her hand Tsenrika obediently overed down her arm to float above her palm once more. Then, in a brief moment is form shrunk, shattering and reforming into a silver chained necklace with an icy blue gem hanging from its end. This Evalin caught as it fell into her hand, quickly placing it around her neck to rest against her naked chest as she gazed upward. The man was now doing some odd exorcise over one of the gaps. It was odd, and Evalin could not quite decide its purpose. With a shrug she stepped back slightly, great black wings beating and lifting her from the ground with just three steady flaps. Staying close to the surface of the stone Evalin half climbed, half flew up the side of the rock, circling around to its front until she could hand on the highest shelf just behind the man.

Puzzled Evalin crouched, resting her hands on the stone as she folded her wings close to her back. Tilting her head she could not hide the curiosity in her expression as she whispered softly, "Child, what are you doing?"

Words: 756

[Azmere]

Azmere continued to use his body and the unique shape of the rocks to his benefit. After another dozen of his current exercise, the somewhat built man dropped his feet on the central platform. He turned and used the higher ledge to rest his hands. He leaned down against it which forced his elbows out to his sides then moved his feet back in small increments until they pushed against the lower ledge. Once more, Azmere’s body was suspended over the central platform only this time, he was facing down. He arched his back upwards and straightened his arms while locking out his knees. This made Hephiestian whinny in a brief mocking sound. Azmere had turned his rump into a point that now rose from the center of the rocks. His head swiveled in the direction of his pal and gave him a look that was something of a mix between ‘be quiet’ and ‘like you don’t do weird stuff’.

Azmere went back to his training. In a controlled descent, he bent his arms which slowly lowered his head down between his hands while making sure to keep his back straight. While this was working his arms, most of the focus goes into his shoulders. Once the bridge of his nose made contact with the cool surface of the rock, Azmere straightened his arms recreating the caret shape. He repeated this four more times feeling the strain building exponentially. His triceps burned and his shoulders began to ache. His hands tingled under the weight and pressure but Azmere was stubborn and decided he was going to do a few more.

A chilling breeze whipped in from the north which cooled Azmere’s skin. He lowered his face next to the rock and held himself there while the wind blew against him. He relished the refreshing quality of Zulrav’s breath but he still heard nothing in the whispers. Though out loud, Azmere whispered a scarcely audible prayer to the god whom he had pledged everything. “Zulrav, lord of wind and weather, hear me. Unworthy as I am, I offer you my life. I vow to always seek to be better so I may one day be a useful servant.” Azmere paused. His arms began to shake under the strain. He pushed himself back to the start position with the intention of doing another rep or two when Vihar had unseated. The bow slipped up his chest and wacked him on the chin. Azmere had no choice but to end his little workout. He dropped his feet to the central part of the rocks where it was lowest. He stood upright and took off his bow then laid it down in front of him. He was about begin another exercise when the words of a woman interrupted him.

“Child, what are you doing?”

Azmere nearly jumped out of his skin. He spun around causing his ankle to cross and upon seeing a naked woman with black hair and giant wings; he almost fell off the formation. He fumbled for his bow with his left hand while drawing an arrow from his quiver. In his confusion and haste, Vihar was knocked to the ground. Wielding an arrow but no bow, Azmere steeled his resolve then set his jaw. He narrowed his eyes at the stranger ignoring her naked form for the moment and pointed the sharp tip of the arrow at the figure. He had never seen a Zith like this before. Given the strangeness of her appearance and how silently she had arrived, Azmere was feeling a bit of fear creep up his spine yet he would never show it. He focused his gaze on hers and caught the feint blue light coming from her necklace. This creature had some kind of magic and this gave him pause to even speak.

The man felt a bitter wind blow against his body. It made the linen shirt cling to the sweat that had formed on his skin and gave him a chill. Azmere just watched the strange visitor. She gave him a sick feeling like he had never experienced before. He opened him mouth to question her but nothing came out. His stomach lurched a bit which caused him to snap his lips closed. Azmere tried again and had a bit more success this time but his voice was so quiet that it took him by surprise. “Wh…what are you doing here, Zith?” His Common was shaky. In a move that caused his stomach to roll over, Azmere stomped his left foot towards her and turned his body sideways. His right arm bent and brought the arrow up against his jaw and level to her face. This would at least give him a ready strike should he need it. He could barely think as the nausea washed over him in waves but Azmere held fast to his defensive position.

Word Count815

Scars are just stories that we wear. - Asmodeus

Textbox by Firenze

[Evalin]

Evalin did not bother to hide the amused smile that formed on her lips as she watched the man's fumbling, and near fall. He is quite excitable.

Or perhaps just a coward.

Evalin eyed Azmere's movements as he righted himself, shifting slightly so that she could rest her elbows on her knees, Perhaps, but there is no need to be too harsh. We did surprise him after all.

You surprised him. Tsenrika reminded.

Such details are unimporant. And this made Evalin smile fully, showing her elongated canines. As the boy righted himself and pointed his arrowhead at her the Immortal tiled her head, the smile fading slightly as she observed his peculiar behavior. Most would simply run, or just attack her. Both reactions were amusing in their own right.

"Zith?" Evalin asked softly, one hand coming up to tap a long nail against her cheek, "Is that what you think I am?"

Standing slowly to her feet Evalin shifted to the balls of her feet before rocking back on her heels, setting her hands on her hips as her wings shifted and opened partially. Looking over her shoulder at them Evalin shrugged, "Well, perhaps your ignorance is to be expected. The beast are quite abundant about this region after all." Her red eyes shifted back to Azmere and she leaned forward slightly, "Why are you here child? And doing such odd exorcises at that."

[Azmere]

Azmere took in what was taking place before him. He was absolutely wishing he could run but pride kept him firmly in place and the stubborn will he carried within held him still. He was having issues focusing as the nausea washed over him repeatedly. The creature revealed her fangs in a smile that spoke volumes. Azmere glanced at his arrow for a tick and realized that she had no fear of him at all. There were stories of wicked beings that had timeless souls, twisted and abused but immortal. Bodies were disposable, though some of the tales he has heard of possessions and spirits made him leery to force this being to search for another one.

Azmere lowered his weapon and slowly slipped it back into the quiver with the rest of his essentially useless ammunition. Azmere found himself trying to find things to look at that weren’t her body, face or being but that was difficult given the circumstance. She had flown onto his little work out space from Zulrav knows where, had bat wings, fangs, hollow eyes and was naked on top of all that. Despite his repulsion, the Drykas found it hard to focus his mind elsewhere. For a moment he stared into her eyes trying to find her reason for presenting herself to him. Was it for entertainment? Was she going to try and corrupt him? He had heard tales of demons from the bowels of nightmares that swallow men through their desires.

"Well, perhaps your ignorance is to be expected. The beast are quite abundant about this region after all." Her red eyes shifted back to Azmere and she leaned forward slightly, "Why are you here child? And doing such odd exorcises at that."

Azmere paused a moment. Conversation? Surely, she didn’t end up in the middle of nowhere to strike up a conversation with a mutilated horseman. She was bound to be disappointed because this Drykas wasn’t much for social chatting. Azmere narrowed his gaze and opened his mouth to speak but burped instead. It wasn’t the pleasant kind that follows a hearty meal or result from quenching one’s thirst with a gluttonous amount of cool water. No, it was a bit of the acid from his stomach trying to escape because of the rancid sensations wafting from this creature. Azmere snapped his lips together and composed himself. He would apologize to a human or any other race for that matter but it was this thing that was making his stomach do somersaults so he felt no need to be sorry.

A tick later, the man tried again with a bit more success though his voice was strained because he was forcibly squeezing his throat as a means to control his lurching stomach. In common, Azmere spoke “Exercises for strength.” He patted the muscles on his arms to illustrate his point. He had to pause, his hand coming up hold his lips closed for a few ticks. He closed his eyes and pushed down the acid once more. Opening the amber and azure orbs, he met her deliriously curious gaze once more and continued. “This place. Good for muscles. Many levels.” He motioned to the three different plateaus atop the rock formation.

Scars are just stories that we wear. - Asmodeus

Textbox by Firenze

[Azmere]

Azmere watched the strange being fly away. It seemed that she had grown bored with him and his exercise. It’s funny how things like that happen. Azmere tossed his arrow over by where Vihar had fallen and went back to his workout. He felt the wind chill his skin and cool the remnants of sweat. This would not do. It only took a tic for Azmere to drop down with his palms against the flat surface of the stone on the outsides of his feet. He rocked forward slightly placing a strain on his shoulders when he locked his elbows out straight. Slowly, he walked his feet backwards until they met the face of the elevated part. He pushed his legs out and up until his toes curled against the rise. His back and legs were nearly parallel to the ground giving him an excellent angle to build strength in his chest.

Azmere took a breath and then lowered his chest down until it nearly touched the cold stone. He exhaled and forced himself to hover in this position. When he began to inhale, Azmere pushed up slowly always reminding himself to stay in control of his actions. This not only was a good technique to avoid injury but it worked the outlying muscles in the group that were responsible for balance. The push up did not go clear until his elbows locked out but ended just before making sure that all of the strain stayed focused on his chest which he flexed as a means to emphasis the training.

He repeated this process again; lowering his upper half while exhaling and keeping his back and legs straight. His elbows bent out wide upon descent and shook just slightly during the pause. Azmere extended his arms once more forcing his body to rise and he could feel the heat welling in his arms, back and chest from the exertion. The forced flex at the end of each rep became harder to maintain as did the brief hold at the drop. Sweat beads formed on the Drykas’ brow and along the bridge of his nose. Azmere lifted his head hoping that the natural contours of his face would lead the stinging liquid away from his eyes while he continued his set. Down and hold. Up and flex. Down and hold. Up and flex. Over and over he repeated this routine taking literal pains to move in slow and smooth motions. The burning feelings intensified and he was now curling his mouth ins strange patterns to blow at the sweat dripping from his nose. It was tickling him something awful and more than distracting.

Amidst this struggle, the archer continued to press on to his fourteenth rep only now his arms shook through the entire ordeal. His abs and back burned from continuing to hold his hips even. It nearly cost him his balance to flex the muscles in his chest at the end of the push. Stubbornly, Azmere committed himself to one more before taking a break. He lowered himself down and held his sternum an inch from the stone. His entire body shook and he gritted his teeth through the pain. He went to push his body up but found the resistance was almost unbearable. Slowly, his will defeated the urge to quit and sower still his chest rose while his arms straightened out. The last step was to flex and this not only hurt but it made the Drykas feel dizzy. He counted in his mind 7.. 8.. 9.. 10! Azmere dropped his legs down to the central level and rocked back to remove all weight and pressure from his upper body. His muscles quivered as he hugged his knees. While he was recovering his breath, Azmere looked around. There was still no sign of the naked zith-not-zith lady…thing. He was very relieved and set his mind to prepare for another set of both exercises.

Scars are just stories that we wear. - Asmodeus

Textbox by Firenze

[Azmere]

Azmere gave himself a few moments of recovery before stretching out his arms behind him. He let them swing out and across his chest then back to his sides. He dropped back down in the position to do more push-ups and took the time to place his feet on the highest plateau. Once he was squared up, he adjusted his hands so they were touching one another beneath the center of his chest. The Drykas rotated his core and shoulders slowly shifting the weight of his body from both arms to just the right. He twisted his hips which helped to facilitate the action. As soon as his left arm was no longer bearing any load, he stretched it out parallel to the ground. This gave a sense of balance similar to that of an outrigger pontoon on a narrow vessel with a tall sail. The rolling and twisting of his body continued at a slow rate and the left arm remained outstretched but now joined in the motion. His right arm supported almost all of his weight except the fractional amount maintained by keeping a tight core and straight legs.

Azmere’s left shoulder was now directly above his right and his chest was no longer pointed down but facing to the left. Taking a deep breath, the man pushed out with all of the muscles in his body creating a rigid line from fingertip to fingertip. A second line formed by his body run perpendicular to the first from his toes up to his head. It wasn’t a position designed for building muscle so much as toning and sculpting it. This was the type of thing that one does to take the meat and turn it to stone. The archer was in perfect form and felt the burning sensation run from his arms and neck down his back, through his abdomen and along his legs. He counted down from twenty and then fell back into his initial pushup position. His body ached but he had to reciprocate the exercise to the left side. Azmere repeated the process that had led him to the leaning cross pose but based everything upon his left arm this time. He was pouring sweat by the time he rotated into the hold portion of his workout. There was a simple pleasure to feeling his body protest the exertion. It was animalistic but when it was achieved through an emotion while maintaining strict physical control, now that was transcendence. The archer counted down from twenty, reduced himself to his starting position and then dropped down to his feet.

Azmere climbed down the side of the rock feeling the ache of his day in every flex, grip, extension and bend. By the time he reached the ground, it was all he could do to collect his fallen possessions and walk over to Hephiestian. He pressed his face against the neck of the sturdy beast for a few moments to catch his breath. Then he mounted up in the yvas and straightened in the seat. “Let’s go home, my friend.” Azmere nudged the animal with his heels and used the grip of his knees as well as the handle of the yvas to turn the strider back towards the Tent City. The slow pace quickened as Azmere dropped his heels into the stallion’s flanks again. The Drykas leaned lower giving his tired arms a chance to relax somewhat and used his legs to do most of the steering. The crooked smile pinned itself upon his face. Aside from the weirdo interrupting his routine, today had been a good day.

Scars are just stories that we wear. - Asmodeus

Textbox by Firenze

[Jasmine Stormblood]

Let me know if I missed anything!

 

Azmere

XP

• Body Building: 4 XP
• Observation: 3 XP
• Climbing: 2 XP
• Riding: 2 XP
• Socialization: 2 XP
• Planning: 1 XP
• Wilderness Survival- Biome Plains: 1 XP
• Endurance: 1 XP
• Planning: 1 XP

Lores

• Amzere: loves to work out almost as much as riding
• Some exercises work out the shoulder
• Evalin: a strange looking Zith
• Push Ups: good for working the chest and arms