Solo A Broken Web is One Thing...

[Azmere]

20th of Spring, 516
9th Bell

“Ra’athi!” A sharp voice pierced the concentration of the archer. Azmere lifted his contrasting irises to see the Rayvekh, Helena Swiftrun, standing over him. He gave her a nod to acknowledge her presence then went back to his task. He had four arrows placed between his legs with the tips pointing down. He was retying the fletchings on the shafts. Some were crooked, some had come loose and one even came completely off. His fingers worked diligently to make sure everything was straight and evenly spaced otherwise the arrows wouldn’t fly straight. Even though he continued to work, the woman proceeded with her statement. “Some traders at the Bluethistle have a guide who claimed the web to the northwest is broken. I want you to check it out, fix it then get your butt back here and help keep an eye out for that thief.” Azmere nodded and continued to attach the feathers to his arrows. Helena left and after about twenty chimes, the fletching was finished.

Azmere rose and gathered his things. He strapped up his pack and quiver then slung Vihar over his head and shoulder. The watchman headed out of his tent and stretched his arms up above his head. Even with all of his gear, Azmere always felt it necessary to physically prepare for his day. He spread his feet past his shoulders and leaned directly to the right slowly. The weight of his pack shifted trying to pull his shoulders down and upset his balance. Azmere held the position for a ten count before righting his frame and then leaning completely to the left. Again, he would hold it for a ten count before he returned to an upright stance. He twisted his shoulders around to the right and then back square before twisting to the left.

He did this each way five times before bringing his feet to shoulder-width. He had about forty pounds of gear on his back including his armor. He extended his arms straight out in front of him and lowered his body down by bending his knees and keeping his back straight. His sank down feeling the strain in his leg muscles until his bottom was about a foot from the ground before he pushed his muscles to lift him up until he was standing once more. To finish the move, the crest of the motion was topped off by a bounce from Azmere’s feet. He pushed up with his calves which brought his boot heels off the ground. The soles of his boots seated on the ground once more and Azmere repeated the squat nine more times before heading towards his mount.

The stupid animal was a poor excuse for transportation but one that he had to take. It was simply too hard to get around the sea of Grass on foot. The archer fixed the yvas as best as the animal would allow and then mounted up. He patted his thigh twice and Grey came bounding up from behind the tent. The glazed eyes looked up and plainly showed that he had been napping. Azmere smirked at his pet and kicked his heels into the horse. He had decided that the beast would not receive a name. It wasn’t a strider. It was less than a horse but alas a means to an end at this point.

Moving along the row of tents in the Diamond spoke, Azmere used his legs and handle to steer the horse where he wanted it to go. Twice, the stupid beast had simply stopped moving and once it turned in a complete circle. Grey thought the entire thing was a game and ran laps around a very frustrated Azmere who sat atop this lackadaisical creature. What should have taken four chimes had now taken fifteen and the group hadn’t even picked up their second. Angry, the Drykas hopped down and stomped towards his first destination. He kicked at the tent flap of Sparrow’s pavilion then stepped away. Within moments, the flap came flying open to some obscenities and the tip of a blade. “Aww, petch!” Azmere chuckled and started back towards the stupid horse when a snide remark caught his ears and caused him to turn. “Did you lose something, Goldie?”

Goldie was in regards to Azmere’s golden eye and Sparrow was holding one of Azmere’s arrows that he had lifted when the older watchman had turned his back. However, Azmere took this as a statement addressing the loss of Hephiestian and the archer reacted poorly. He spun on his heel so fast that the charge which followed swept Sparrow off his feet and onto his back. Azmere half clotheslined, half threw the man down and loomed over the younger Ra’athi as if to bludgeon him with fists. Sparrow saw pain and anguish in his friend’s eyes today but he had also been there to see the devastation and vacancy they held when Azmere first returned. He hadn’t thought about his words but would certainly be more careful next time. He raised his hands in surrender and signed an apology. This was enough to snap the unsettled Azmere back to reality. He relinquished his hold and rose back to his feet.

Azmere fetched his horse and came back with Grey at their heels to find Sparrow mounted and ready to go. The small team galloped out into the Sea of Grass away from the Run as they had been instructed. Sparrow had been given the location and directed them along the way. He was to stand watch while Azmere repaired the damaged web lines. Everything should be pretty routine.

After some time and many stifled laughs from Sparrow, Azmere managed to get the horse to take him where he needed to be. The only real issue had been when the creature jumped at the sight of a snake and nearly threw Azmere off, yvas and all. The scarred Drykas dismounted so quickly that the horse wasn’t sure what had happened. Grey was tired and found a nice warm piece of sun in which to rest then sprawled out as if it had always owned that chunk of land. Sparrow rode about checking for physical dangers and left Azmere to do his thing.

Azmere wandered over and dropped his gear close to the dog. He plopped into the grass and laid down making his body comfortable. Shutting his eyes, he felt the warmth of Syna’s light wash over him and relieve some of the stress. Deep breaths escorted his awareness into the web and within moments he was standing above his body watching his chest rise and fall at half the rhythm of Grey’s. He turned and grabbed hold of the first djed line he came across and placed his focus upon it. He slid back and forth covering miles in the space of a thought. Azmere had been taught by his grandfather to never wander too far without coming back to check near one’s body often. This helped avoid the temptation to wander and also prevented the terrifying feeling of being lost.


Word Count1180

Textbox courtesy of Firenze

[Azmere]

Azmere had been studying the web for quite some time. The way that the web mages of old worked was generally in specific patterns. Some used squares, others triangles and some wove patterns like that of a spider where the lines cross-crossed around a central point. Regardless of the pattern, the first trick to identifying problems was to find that central point called an anchor or origin. Azmere slid along the lines looking for the cluster of glowing djed that would mark the knot but he found none. He was starting to notice that the lines acted as if they’d been pushed together. The watchman had never seen anything quite like it and at certain points where many ran parallel, the glowing lines blended together to create blind spots.

Twice, the archer had to stop and rest. It was impossible to navigate the extremes of the web when lines had been tampered with in this manner. He was roughly a hundred miles from where his body was resting and he recognized some of the terrain. The city had been here about a week past. Azmere’s face twisted into a look of disgust and worry. This disturbance that he had been sent to investigate was not the result of worn out anchors or changes in the surface of Semele. Once more, he shut his eyes, his head dropping. The grandson of a Stormwarden, Azmere had always held a belief that Drykas looked out for one another but this was one of those things that decimated an understanding that was supported by a house of cards.

Furious and heart-broken, the watchman knew what he had to do. He turned and followed the lines of djed back towards his body. He shut his eyes against one of the smashed regions so that he wouldn’t have to spend so much time readjusting once he was back in Syna’s light. Another tick and Azmere slipped down into his body. The unsettled state he had been in transferred with a gasp of air as he sat up. Grey shook with a start and moved to comfort his master. The archer patted the dog and scrambled to his feet. Sparrow was several yards off and hadn’t noticed him yet. Azmere made his way towards his fellow Ra’athi and Grey got up with the intention to follow the Drykas. The archer turned and narrowed his eyes. He snapped his fingers once then pointed at the ground with two fingers. Grey paused for a moment and the sat down. Azmere tilted his head to the side and then pointed at the ground a second time. Grey finally lay all the way down but kept his head up. The Drykas was pleased and turned to find his comrade regarding him with a curious gaze. Sparrow signed a question asking of trouble. Azmere nodded.

“Web lines are broken.” The look on Azmere’s face made his partner furrow his brow. Azmere signed one word. Drykas.

Word Count1673

Textbox courtesy of Firenze

[Azmere]

Azmere watched a moment as his words and signs sunk into the mind and soul of his partner. Like Azmere, he could scarcely believe such a thing was possible. Tampering with the web breaks one of the seven laws. The younger man looked to the archer and signed a question of whether or not it could be fixed. Azmere nodded. “It’ll take time.” His response was met with a weak smile.

“Take as long as you need. Your body will be safe.”

Azmere found his way over to where he had been before and stretched out. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing and allowed his body to relax then he snapped his fingers twice. Grey’s ears perked before he jogged over and joined his master. Azmere reached over and stroked the fur along the dog’s neck. “Good boy, Grey. Good boy.” Drykas and canine shared a moment where they simply enjoyed one another’s company before the slip took place. Once again, Azmere’s awareness floated from his body and into the web. He knew what needed to be dome and whispered a prayer to Yahal to allow him the fortitude to fix the mess he had found.

The archer touched the line of djed which would lead him to the tangle. If he could find how they had all been tied together, maybe he could simply put them back. The idea of laying new lines for a hundred square miles made him dizzy. A task that size would take weeks to complete even if Azmere had the help of Sparrow and about four other watchmen of equal skill. He shook his head and knew he had to remain focused. The watchman squinted as the cobbled zone drew near. Its bright light was not the soft blue that he was used to but a vivid white that seemed unnatural but also unhealthy. He made a mental note to take regular breaks so that he wouldn’t go blind or mad.

The first part was finding anything that might look as if it was restraining the lines from their natural order and place. His hands went back and forth search the clumps and tangled masses for clues or loose strand to chase. Several times, Azmere thought he was on to a solution but would end up following it into a bigger knot or away from the mess altogether. Having no way to track time and no sense of it within the web, the Watchman would wait until his eyes got tired and would shut them for a few ticks then zip away to check on his body. There were a few times he almost gave up and rejoined his physical form to tell Sparrow there was no fixing it but his pride always intervened.

Azmere returned and immediately set back to the task of unfurling the djed strands. He had made some progress but it was slow and so far there were no signs of any new anchors. Whoever had done this made sure to cover their tracks and not leave any trace behind. The brightness was starting to wear on him so he would alternate the use of his eyes for chimes at a time. His hands hit a huge knot but this one was different. It shone with multiple colors of light which told Azmere that whoever made this nest had to add his own djed here for one reason or another. Furiously he tore at the strands using what knowledge he did have to try and pick through until he came to a singular knot. It was complex, self-sustaining and beautiful. Simply by looking at it, Az knew he could never tie nor had he ever seen anything like it though it did have a reddish tint behind the white. Now that he knew where the problem lied, he had to show Kohlter so that someone else could witness the knot. Perhaps he would even know to whom it belonged. The archer raced back and rejoined his body.

“Sparrow!” He called. “You have to enter the web.” Azmere was breathing harder than normal. His friend and fellow Ra’athi had run up but was now looking confused.

“What do you mean?”

“Join the web, head west towards a bright spot. In the middle you will see an origin that’s glowing red. Whoever did this is a Drykas and that’s his anchor.” Azmere pointed in the direction to emphasize his statement. “I’ll stand over you but you have to see it, too.”

Sparrow nodded and the young man lay down. Azmere rose and began to move about stretching his body waving his arms back and forth and doing quick squats. It was mere ticks and Kohlter had returned to his body. He had a dour look on his tanned face. “I can’t untie it OR move all those lines.”

“I know.” Azmere said softly. He patted his comrade on the shoulder and then dropped down and did a set of ten pushups very slowly so he was sure that every inch of movement was beneficial to his muscles. Once his arms and chest burned a little bit, he dropped down and rolled onto his back. Azmere escaped into the web once more and returned to the deviously placed anchor. He smiled and felt purpose fill his spirit. “I can do this.”

Word Count2564

Textbox courtesy of Firenze

[Azmere]

Azmere spent his time focusing on the simple lines first; those rudely pushed into the mess. It was as If the perpetrator started very carefully then over time began to rush. The watchman rolled this around in his mind as he freed the glowing lines from their unnatural moorings. It was very odd to do this kind of repair. Azmere had never experienced anything like it in the web before. With the bright glowing mass on one side blinding him, he had initially missed the gaping darkness on the other side. There was nothing. It was as if that piece of the world had been swallowed up into the void. The portents of such an act are as deep and hollow as the empty space at the archer’s back. It is a direct violation of one of the Seven Laws to tamper with the web in a malicious manner. There was no need for such mess as this. Only nefarious purposes could explain why a man would go to such trouble.

Azmere had now freed four lines by removing several of the tie lines. He used the djed from these lines to make a crossing line then began spacing out the glowing strands and tying them with his own unique origin knot. Every few yards he set another down and tied it off; the last required pulling his own djed which was still a slow process for Azmere. He had spent so much time adventuring these past few seasons that he hasn’t given a proper share towards his training in the web. ‘No time like the present’, he thought to himself. Azmere took a moment to slip back a ways and look at how the pattern looked on the lines he had moved. He felt rather satisfied with it and drew a second wind now that he could see progress. He glided back to where the entangled web was still beaming bright.

There was so much djed that it hummed with a strange frequency that seemed to occasionally and randomly flitter against the watchman’s ears. Az didn’t allow himself to be distracted. He continued to pull at the fragmented strands that bound the old lines together. After he had collected a handful, he used them to make more crossbands helping to fortify the pieces of web that the archer had already moved. The intersections were straight and slightly taut which is exactly the technique that he had been shown by his grandfather. The memories washed over him for a tick or two but Azmere shook them away. There was too much to be done.

As more lines were freed and stretched back to what Azmere presumed to be their original locations, the contrast of blinding light and consuming dark became lessened. It was beginning to look like the normal web again but Azmere had no idea how he was going to move the culprit’s anchor without destroying it. He had already found a good place to set a cairn but it was not time for that just yet. The watchman peeled away strand after strand and ran them up and down and across the grasslands trying to reconnect the blocked expanse. The more he corrected, the more he felt uneasy about the entire ordeal. He would certainly have to report this and further investigate in his free time. He had no idea how to go about it short of asking very ankal to tie his anchor and then bring them back here for comparison. There’s no guarantee it was even an ankal!

Textbox courtesy of Firenze

[Azmere]

Azmere had used very little of his own djed at this point but that was all over now. He had undone and realigned as much as he could without tearing apart the knot left behind by the vandal. The web was intact enough to survive another year; all that was left was to sink a final anchor and attach it to the tree which rested in the middle of the area which had been cleared of djed lines. The archer closed his eyes. He was tired and could hear the whispered calls of honor, the soft giggles and cries for help. Asmodeus warned of these things as the first symptoms of overextending one’s self in the web.

Azmere shook his head and knelt down on his left knee. He was almost leaning on the tree which had a soft glow all its own. With slow and measured movements, the watchman pulled djed from his own body. It was like he was coaxing his spirit to manifest in front of him. The djed he made pooled into a ball between his hands and it shone in a soft gold that seemed warm and peaceful. He did this until the ball was the size of a large pumpkin and then went about delicately stretching it out; pulling the energy through his hands creating rope and coiling it at his feet.

Once this was done, Azmere took one end and walked to where he had banded several strands nearby and tied his knot. Then he moved to another bunch and another and another until every bundle he had moved and fortified was attached to this single strand. The golden glow contrasted the faded blue of the ancient lines and dulled the red of the one who violated the area. There was several feet of djed rope left and Azmere walked to the tree and wound it around in tight coils up the trunk and then back down to the base where he had started. Here he tied a final knot in his unique style making sure to wrap it tightly so the image would hold for a long time if left alone.

Exhausted and starting to feel pulled to explore, Azmere debated between resting against the tree or trying one more time to move the villain’s anchor. It was then that the gold and blue struck him. They reminded him of his own eyes and how he had no color in the web. He had to return to his body. He grabbed the djed strands leading to the east and slid along them in the space of a wink. He slipped back into his physical form and was instantly dizzy and tired all over again. Grey hopped up and licked his face and Sparrow came riding up on his horse.

“Bout time! Syna went down a bell ago.” The man signed a question asking if his brother-in-arms was alright. Azmere could only nod and used his canine companion to help him stand. He mounted his stupid horse and kicked the beast in the sides then steered them back to Endrykas. The archer felt like he was going to sleep until summer…too bad he has to work tomorrow.

Textbox courtesy of Firenze

[Jasmine Stormblood]

Let me know if I missed anything man

 

Azmere

XP

• Webbing: 4 XP
• Socialization: 4 XP
• Riding- Horse: 2 XP
• Animal Husbandry: 2 XP
• Fletching: 1 XP
• Body Building: 1 XP
• Endurance: 2 XP

Lores

• Webbing: requires weeks to cover a hundred square miles
• Webbing: protected by the Seven Laws of the Drykas
• Azmere: taking the loss of his strider hard
• Azmere: a prideful man