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[Azmere]

28th of Spring, 516 AV
8th Bell

Azmere rode slowly out of Endrykas with several members of the Watch. They had been given permission to investigate more into the disturbances within the web that had been found this season. The four men made their way towards Riverfall based on the information gathered by Azmere’s web-patching adventure and the runes of Ferem. Many people advised on this and most called the fanatics foolish but the general order was given for a patrol to be dispatched in search of answers. The journey would be long but at least the weather was nice.
For the first of what would be many days together, the men and their animal companions made good time. Azmere was often the brunt of jokes given the broken down state of his mixed breed horse. He would laugh along knowing that Horse was a poor excuse for his namesake. The fires were warm but small and the conversation was always pleasant for these men were not only comrades on the Watch but they were friends. Such was the life of warriors in the Sea of Grass. Azmere curled up every night under the stars of Zintila’s cloak with Grey and drifted into a fairly satisfying sleep until it was his turn for sentry detail.

37th of Spring, 516 AV
6th Bell

Like every other morning, Azmere woke to Grey licking his face. The Drykas waved his canine friend away and scratched his ears. The man rolled out of his knapsack and laid his chest upon the ground. He placed his hands on either side of his shoulders and lifted himself up. The watchman flexed as his arms and chest lifted his weight up and down. He repeated the motion of exercise until he had completed fifty reps. Grey sat patiently while his master went through this routine. Afterwards, Azmere would stow his gear, grab a drink and give one to Grey then they would eat some kind of dried meat and roots. As Syna rose, the contrasting eyes watched the sky brighten. He looked over to his companions and they all seemed to be thinking the same thought. Azmere nodded and rose to his feet. He strapped on his pack and quiver, scratched Grey on his head and then mounted his half-busted stallion, Horse.

Azmere turned the horse about once and then twice before it pointed in the same direction as the rest of the watchmen. Grey and the other two hounds trotted off ahead of the horses and the patrol moved in the general direction of the Kabrin road. The warrior from the Diamond clan closed his eyes and focused on his inner power, the hidden sight. After several of ticks and a few sways of the old mixed breed, the archer opened his eyes and found the trails of djed that patched in behind the dogs filled his vision. He gazed left and then right seeing the colors swirling about his comrades. The pathfinder was scanning the area and seeing little pieces of color from animals when he noticed a fog rollin down the plain on them. It was well-accustomed to preceding a change in weather.

10th Bell

The rain was unpleasant to say the least but it wasn’t freezing. The men and beasts had slowed their pace quite a bit but were still getting very close to their destination. The archer whistled in a unique pattern which caused his dog’s ears to stand up and his feet to stop. Grey trotted back and then moved along next to Azmere. He looked up at his master almost constantly as if asking when the crappy day was going to end. The Tavehk who had been assigned to the ride was not very happy about it to begin with and now with the pouring skies, he was being vocal about his initial protests. Azmere was bored with listening to the senior man bitch and moan so he closed his eyes and brought forth his ability to see the color of the creatures around them.

The watchman opened his eyes and given the weather’s depressive state, there was very little to see. Several chimes of scanning the immediate area had turned up nothing and the man was about to relinquish his hold on the magic since leaving it active for long periods of time was painful and not conducive to good health. It was then that a bright green flash disappeared into a wall of shadow. The green was the object and its trail or path was the shadow. The watchman was having a hard time keeping the creature in his line of sight and turned about restlessly in his saddle. He signed to his companions that there could be trouble then drew an arrow and notched it against Vihar’s string. Grey and the other dogs had perked up in response to their masters’ actions but they didn’t seem to have any notion of what was going on. That troubled Azmere since dogs could normally smell trouble long before it presented itself. Whatever was out there, it was quick, clever and undetectable to the dogs.

The watchman studied the trails of inky obsidian but found himself having no luck locating the source. Just as he relaxed his hold on his weapon, one of the horses and riders beside him shrieked almost in unison. Azmere turned to see the Sea of Grass rise up in a pillar and wrap a set of…arms…around the horse while what looked like hands grabbed at the rider, the Tavehk who was furiously using his short sword to hack away at the strange things that was trying to take hold of his body. Before the eyes of the Drykas, this pillar of grass split and formed two entities which took the shape of very large men. The strider thrashed about as it was slowly being crushed and the Tavehk, Brycin Greenswept was being overwhelmed despite his defenses.

Textbox courtesy of Firenze

[Azmere]

The initial shock wore off and the other watchmen took to action. Azmere fired a series of three arrows into the things but it didn’t seem to do any good. The arrows penetrated the swirling mass comprised of blades and stalks of grass to never be seen again. Or so he thought. The creature attacking the horse produced both arrows and plunged them into the strider’s chest. The blood followed the wooden shafts back into the creature but it did not stain the outside. It was as if the thing drank the horse’s blood. Enraged, the trio set about slicing, sawing and chopping at the fiends but to no avail. Every hit was quickly repaired or replaced by more grass. Brycin was still alive and the entire patrol worked to free him but they could not swing their arms fast enough to compensate for the rate of regeneration that this creature commanded. As grass enfolded the man’s face and began to penetrate his eyes, ears, nose and mouth he uttered a single word. “Run.”

The men of the watch needed no more motivation and turned their steeds north then took off. Azmere soon fell behind as he was just riding a pathetic and broken half breed while the striders slipped with ease into the horizon. Even the dogs outran his pathetic mount except for Grey who stayed faithfully close. Azmere twisted and looked back to see the grass beasts jumped and smashing into the meals they had just caught. Like waves hitting the shore, they flowed out and in removing more and more of the flesh and blood that used to be a noble strider and proud Drykas. Azmere could see only shadow after a while and closed his eyes trying to shake the magic. He looked ahead and saw the bright colors of his fellow watchmen still lingering in small patches here and there. He knew they had veered towards the distant rocks. It was a smart plan. Perhaps with no grass around to regenerate, the men would have a chance to deflect or destroy these evil things.

Azmere continued to ride hard for another twenty chimes when he saw a streak of shadow pass across his intended trail some two hundred yards ahead of his position. There was a large sheer rock ledge a mere forty yards away. It wasn’t very tall, perhaps a foot but it widened as it traveled north like some giant stone blade trying to pierce the skin of Semele at an angle. The watchman navigated his stubborn mount to the left and nearly achieved his goal when the shadow exploded up from the grass in front of them. Horse reared up and twisted casting rider and yvas to the ground. It was probably fortunate considering what happened next. A second beast came from the left flank and spun through the air parallel to the ground. It collided with the horse lifting it off the ground and transporting it almost ten feet to the right before slamming it into the ground with a chorus of snaps from bones breaking. Azmere wrestled to get his wind back and then rolled over. The archer popped up and grabbed his yvas, a few of the arrows he had lost during the fall and sprinted towards the rocks. The sound of his horse being devoured was so loud he wouldn’t have heard himself scream.

Grey ran alongside Azmere and beat him to the small ridge. The hard feel of the cold stone was not the finish line for the Drykas. His first steps upon it only served as a launch. He heaved the yvas onto his shoulders, tucked away the arrows into the quiver and pounded onward. The muscles in his arms burned as they strained and flexed to keep the load balanced. The legs beneath Azmere churned like the winds of a storm gaining momentum and propelling his body forward with each step. The Drykas clicked his tongue against his teeth and spoke regularly to his dog making sure to keep the canine close as they left the grizzly scene behind. Sweat poured down the archer’s face but he did not stop. His legs were on fire but through force of will, he maintained a decent pace. His calves and thighs swelled with each push and his arms absorbed the shock of each step into his triceps and shoulders to maintain balance with the yvas over his pack. Grey trotted along being mindful of his own steps so as not to trip Azmere or stray too far towards the grass. Azmere closed his eyes briefly but continued to run. He told this strange discipline to go away because he needed the strength for his escape. When he opened them again, everything was normal.

Textbox courtesy of Firenze

[Azmere]

12th Bell

Azmere was panting harder than the animal beside him but he refused to stop. The ridge had widened enough that he had not seen any trace of the monsters that consumed his fellow watchman and two horses. There was a solid twenty five or thirty feet of stone on either side of him and his canine. That wasn’t good enough. He was no longer running; no longer communicating with Grey but he was still moving. Not once had he stopped but his body was nearly spent. His legs felt like they had been shredded by glassbear claws and his arms felt as if he’d been holding up the sky itself. Still, he rambled on. The world had grown quiet and grey. The breeze had died and then Grey barked twice in a short cadence. Azmere looked to his dog and blinked several times trying to fight off the stinging beads of salty sweat. The animal ran ahead a few paces and looked back at his master before pointing at a small overhang in the center of the rock formation.

Azmere nodded and continued to drive himself along. He knew if he stopped walking that he would not have the strength to crawl so he continued to trudge despite the screaming aches and pains that sent horrid sensations along his body. When he finally made it to the small bit of shelter, he dumped the yvas and fell upon it; exhausted. The Drykas was shaking so badly that it took many chimes just to slip from the straps of his pack and retrieve a water skin. He drank sparingly knowing that to drink too much would cause him to get sick so he sipped and hid in the shade. After several more chimes, he managed to retrieve a bowl and pour some of the cool hydration into it for Grey who lapped up the refreshment greedily then lay down and put his head on his front paws. A bell or so passed and the pathfinder was finally able to feel some sense of normalcy return but it was anchored by the stiffness of overworked muscles. Weary, frightened and without direction, Azmere made a rough camp so he could rest his bones. At the base of the overhang was a small crevice in the soil where several clumps of grass were starting to grow. Azmere grabbed them close to the roots, yanked them free and tossed them as far as he could.

14th Bell

The watchman was resting comfortably and heard the distant rumble of thunder. Not knowing where he was in relation to fresh water, he went about making a way to collect some rain water. Away from the overhang, he fashioned a frame from several arrows. Being uniform in size, it was easy to bind them with a bit of rope and create a cube. Azmere took his dagger and cut away a piece of his tarp that was a bit larger than the dimensions of one side. Very carefully, he laid it over the top and marked out several places to make holes. He stitched rope through these spots which attached the tarp to his frame. The slack of the tarp hung down in the middle and Azmere used the tip of an arrow to drill a small hole through the tarp. He placed a bowl underneath this spout and then used various rocks to anchor the whole contraption.

Satisfied, he went back under the overhang and used more rocks to create a tiny wall behind which he could build a fire. The windbreak was about two feet high and wrapped almost completely around except for one side. This would enable Azmere to tend the fire without having to loom over it. He ran to the edge of the rock ledge and gathered a bunch of grasses for lighting tinder and then returned to his hide out. His entire body was sore and he assumed that his dog was whipped as well. The hound hadn’t risen since laying down several bells ago aside from the occasional need to urinate. Azmere was thankful that the dog had enough sense to go away from what he had deemed his bed to relieve himself. Azmere built a small pyramid of dung chips within the windbreak and then stuffed the grass inside of it. He dug out his flint and steel and set to work striking down and away from his body. The first few strokes did nothing but the ones that followed showered sparks onto the grass. It took nearly ten tries for the tinder to light but it finally did and the dung chips quickly caught fire on the edges. They were excellent fuel for small campfires because they burned slow due to their compacted nature and they didn’t stink plus they were easy to transport.

Azmere curled up near the fire with his back against the rock canopy. He clicked his tongue twice against the back of his teeth. Grey lifted his head and looked to the Drykas. The archer patted his leg and the dog slowly rose allowing himself time to stretch out his stiff muscles. The canine proceeded to trot over and lie down next to his master. The rain came and they simple watched as it funneled into the bowl. Azmere would dart out to dump the basin into a water skin then retreat back to his dry spot. He and Grey were just relaxing now. The time to formulate a plan would soon come but Azmere understood the need to refresh, recoup what supplies he could and take a moment to enjoy the beautiful, albeit deadly, Sea of Grass.

Textbox courtesy of Firenze

[Xira Hezmek]

I disappeared at this time, please disregard!

[Azmere]

NoteXira went AWOL so I’m continuing without him.
38th of Spring
7th Bell

Azmere and Grey were weathering the storm well. The crag of rocks hid the duo from the wind and rain while the fire chased away the dampness. Though there was little the Drykas could do to ease his sore and stiff muscles. The contrasting eyes blinked away the hard sleep that had befallen the archer. His gaze shifted over to the huge pile of fur curled up against him. Azmere reached out and scratched the dog behind the ears and for nearly a chime Grey did not lift his head. After this moment, the canine turned and yawned they licked the hand that had given him affection. Azmere gave the beast a few quick pats on the ribs then signed food which made the animal’s ears perk instantly.

The Watchman moved slowly being careful to make deliberate motions that gave his body time to wake up. As his star-scarred eyes looked around, the world was wet from the rain but the storm had moved on and left a sky full of grey clouds. He looked out to see his raincatcher still standing though it had moved several feet to one side. The Drykas pulled his legs underneath him and felt the tension scream from his calves and thighs. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before he stood upright. A groan escaped his lips as he did so as the aches and pains of yesterday’s escape. A shudder ran through Azmere’s body as the images of the attack filled his mind. He decided not to linger on such things and went to retrieve his bowl of water. He stooped to grab it and heard his lower back pop as well as his right knee; neither of which felt pleasant. The man took a sip and let the cool liquid hydrate his mouth. The archer swished it around a few times and then swallowed. The cold sensation ran down his throat then into his empty stomach.

Grey rose from the rocks and padded over to his master but stopped to lower his shoulders and stretch his front legs out in front of him. His jaw opened in a yawn that exposed his tongue with a soft yelp sound. Azmere took another small sip and then set the bowl down so Grey could drink what was left. The big hunter looked up at his human then straightened and moved to the bowl. His big head loomed over the water for a moment then the dog drank with big, loud laps of his tongue. The warrior went to his packs and dug through until he found some dried deer meat. He pulled out four pieces and shoved one into his mouth. As he chewed, he tossed one next to the dog who paused his drinking to sniff the morsel. The dog opened his mouth to eat the snack but a snap of his master’s fingers made him pause and look up.

Azmere waited until he had eye contact and then pointed with two fingers at the ground. Grey looked back down at the jerky and went to bite it once more but was interrupted by a second finger snap. The look on the archer’s face was not a happy but he repeated the nonverbal command once more. The dog looked at the downward pointing fingers, then the dried venison, then back to Azmere’s hand and finally decided to sit on his rump and stare with sad eyes to the Drykas. The horseman smiled and walked over to his companion. He patted the dog on his head and scratched along his jaw. The two stood in stillness with unbroken eye contact for many ticks before Azmere gave a single head nod then turned back to gathering up his equipment while munching on more dried meat. Once the dog received the nod, he fell upon the tasty treat in front of him and devoured the jerky pausing only to lift his head and thoroughly chew a particularly tough piece.

The Watchman had fallen asleep in his armor and was shifting it around trying to gauge how bad he had chaffed his chest and neck. As he contemplated these things, he tore down the rain catcher and made sure to save the pieces of rope, put his arrows back in his quiver and carefully folded the scrap of tarp so it would be in good shape for future use. It took him some time to pack everything up and all the while, he kept a watchful eye on the grass itself.

The final preparation was to stretch. Azmere placed his feet together, locked his kneed and then bent at the waist reaching towards the toes of his boots with his fingers. His legs hated the effort and shook slightly in protest. Once he could grab his boots, he held the position for a count of thirty ticks. Slowly, he righted himself and spread his feet just past shoulder width. He bent his body at the waist and placed both hands on one foot for a thirty count then straightened and bent to the other side for the same duration. Azmere returned to a normal stance then crossed his left arm in front of his body and held there with the crook of his right pulling just enough to feel it put pressure on his shoulder. After a satisfying amount of time, he swung his arms down then reversed to work the right shoulder. The archer rolled his head around intentionally applying force behind the action to loosen the muscles of his neck. He went in one direction then circled back in the other.

Finally, the man dropped down into a level plank using his hands and feet for a base. Keeping his back straight, he bent his arms and lifted his head to look out. He lowered his chest until the armor scraped the ground and then pushed himself back up. He repeated this motion thirty times before rocking back to rest upon his knees. Azmere caught his breath and stood feeling much better now that his blood was rushing around his body. He shouldered his pack then strapped his rucksack around his waist. The archer adjusted his quiver so that it would ride on his right hip then hefted his yvas bags onto his left shoulder. The watchman made a few circles to ensure that he had not left anything behind then set off around the overhang and continued on towards Riverfall. With it being so early, he knew that keeping Syna to his right would ensure that he was still traveling north.

[Azmere]

With Grey at his side, the Drykas felt confident that things would turn out well. He whispered prayers to Zulrav and Yahal as well as Semele during his journey. Azmere considered himself a man of faith but there was certainly a piece of him that liked to pray out loud because it made him feel like he wasn’t alone. The watchman shouldered his burdens well. His legs and back ached from the exhausting day prior but his warmups had gone over well. Azmere’s thighs and calves bulged and shifted as he pumped his meaty trunks along the stony ground. He did his best to keep his mouth closed and breathe through his nostrils since he had found it to be a more efficient use of air. His lungs burned and his sides ached from the exertion but the pace was steady which made it manageable. He had spent years riding and knew that good riders created a moderate trot for their mounts so that’s what the scarred man had been practicing all day.

After several bells, the man knew he needed a break and the heavy panting of his canine companion signaled that Grey was ready for a bit of rest as well. Azmere’s blue and gold stare settled upon a lonely bush that looked something like a broken hand. Trudging the remaining distance, the Drykas was wheezing by the time he had gotten to the gnarled shrub. He dropped the yvas to the ground then slid out of his pack. The archer moved around the area looking as far as he could in every direction.

Once Azmere had established that there were no immediate threats, he thanked his gods for the safe arrival to another waypoint. While the Drykas was unsure as to where he was going, he knew that he had to find some point of bearing. His fellow watchmen had headed north and had left him far behind because they had the advantage of their striders. Azmere’s broken half-breed could not hope to keep up. The appearance of the deadly and mysterious grass monsters had really turned the well-planned venture on its ear. The disfigured man was now alone and without direction.

Azmere placed his hands on his knees and used a few ticks of stillness to catch his breath. When he stood upright, he looked down to see his dog staring at him. Grey had his tongue hanging out and there were several strands of saliva stuck to the animal’s open maw. The man smiled his crooked smile and knelt down next to his pack. He reached up with one hand and ran his fingers around the pointed ears of the canine’s furry head. The dog responded with a heavy lean into the affection from his master. The Drykas used his other hand to fetch a bowl and a waterskin from his backpack. Azmere placed the bowl on the ground and drained a few inches of liquid from the filled leather pouch then put the nozzle to his lips and took a few small swigs for himself. Grey lapped up every drop happily enjoying the cool refreshment. The man replaced his water into the bag then settled down near the bush.

Azmere closed his eyes and focused his thoughts on the rings of starbursts that filled his eyes. The magic they held was special and extremely useful even though the watchman didn’t fully understand the potential it held. After several moments of meditated concentration, he opened his eyes; the bursts of foreign color twinkled from the active djed that flowed through them. The world was not so different when one was away from heavily traveled paths. There was a shadow of blue color around Grey and bits and pieces of the hue were scattered backwards from the direction of their travels. Azmere could see his own trail which was fragments of a faded gold which rode higher than that of his companion. The patches of color; of djed, acted like tracers frozen in time and told the tale of the journey that had been taken on this day. As he looked around, the pathfinder could see where a small flock of birds had passed over the area but there was little else to be revealed. It seemed that his companions had no come this way or if they had, it had been some time in between for there was no indication of their passing.

Azmere was about to close his eyes and return the discipline to its dormant state when a sound caused him to turn his gaze westward. The rumble of thunder was not dissimilar but the Drykas knew hoofbeats when he heard them. He narrowed his gaze to try and intensify his focus on a rising cloud of dust. Even though the creatures were some distance away, there were tiny flickers of color bouncing around but distinguishing them was next to impossible. Grey was up on all fours and pointed west with wide eyes and attentively twitching ears. Following the guardian’s example, the archer took hold of Vihar and drew an arrow from his quiver. He notched it against the bowstring and pulled back creating a slight tension but did not raise his weapon. Still maintaining his focus and a low crouch, Azmere waited to see what this stampede would mean for him. A whisper in the wind made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. The scarred man was not a stormwarden like many in his line but he knew the Father of Storms was telling him to be ready. The question the Drykas was left to wrestle was ‘Be ready for what?’

[Azmere]

Syna’s rays played tricks through the clouds of dust. It obscured the physical aspects of what the Drykas was attempting to uncover but the paths were still becoming more visible. The rumbling grew louder and the feeling of something spectacular approaching became stronger. Grey released a growl from his big chest and it drew a reaction from his owner. The archer relaxed his bowstring and transferred control solely into his left hand. The right hand of the watchman moved over and rested upon the shoulders of his pet. This seemed to stifle the growling but the canine remained alert; tense. Azmere narrowed his gaze in an effort to intensify his focus on the colors bouncing across the grasses towards the archer and his dog.

A boom of thunder shook the skin of Semele. The scarred man felt the power of the gods in that moment and closed his eyes. He pushed his thoughts to remove the magic of the starbursts and the discipline responded. When the blue and gold eyes opened, the streams of djed were gone and left only the encroaching cloud of dust on the horizon. Azmere remained in a crouch with a hand on his companion. The weary Drykas started to pick out some shapes and came to the realization that they were in no danger. Manes whipped within the dust and the distinct punching of hooves rang against the rocky shelf. As the small herd made its way towards Azmere and Grey, the archer poised for a move. He flexed his leg muscles and felt a quiver move up to his spine as the tissue solidified into solid masses of stored energy. He waited. The dog barked but went quiet when Azmere’s fingers dug into his fur.

Patience.

When the cloud of dust was only twenty feet away, Azmere sprang from his coil straight up into the air. His waved his arms above his head; the bow and arrow still in his left hand. He also let loose a wild howl at the top of his lungs which echoed against the noise. Grey circled around behind Azmere and let out a series of loud, short barks which added to the cacophony. The commotion the two created was enough. The response of neighs and even a squeal told the Drykas he had made the right decision. The wave of dust and beast turned to the man’s right so suddenly that Azmere didn’t even land before he saw the shift. A lifetime around horses had afforded him enough to know that the graceful creatures spook rather easily.

When he came down, there was a large smile on his face and he continued to hoot and holler as the animals broke their line to bend around the disturbance. Grey remained close to his master but barked at the side-charging horses. Azmere stared at the creatures, fascinated by their raw beauty and power. He couldn’t distinguish stallion from mare but there were several dozen and each one seemed to be uniquely wonderful. The way their muscles rippled like waves of hide was truly something magical to behold. Finally, the wave seemed to end and Azmere couldn’t help but laugh. He knelt down and scratched Grey behind the ears but the sound of rocks skipping caused them both to turn in a stance of readiness; the archer’s hands grasped for the arrow resting against his bow.

Standing there in the swirling trail of dust was a single horse. The creature was a beautiful chocolate color with stars thrown across the entire body. The mane was the same color as rich soil but the tail was long and painted the color of bone. The majestic face was a pale white and the deep eyes seemed to bore into the man. Grey barked once but stopped and looked between his master and the newcomer as if sensing that his sound was disturbing something. The tremendous commotion had passed and in its place stood a stillness that demanded respect. It demanded this moment in time for the consideration of future greatness.

[Azmere]

The dust began to settle as the herd moved on along the rock stratum that made up most of this region. Azmere kept his eyes on the magnificent creature that stood before him. There wasn’t anything to say or do while he allowed the peace he felt to drift across the terrain. It floated through the space between the archer and the wild strider. Something inside of the Drykas began to knit itself back together as the deep stare of the animal looked through the man. A breeze whipped up for several ticks then died back down and when it had passed, the horse turned sideways in the direction of its herd. Azmere could clearly see that it was a mare.

She shook her mane out then lowered her head. After a moment, the long tail flicked towards Azmere’s general direction. He resisted the urge to smile at first but then let it warp his face. The watchman bowed a little at the waist then tilted his chin down. He held the position for a three count before standing upright once more. The game of stares resumed almost immediately as both man and beast sized up the other.

Azmere heard Grey pad in three circles then flop down but the man didn’t look to see where. He was content to simply stare at the strider and let the world go on without him. The man was unsure how long the mare had been standing there but he was certain it was longer than a few chimes. With this in mind, the archer took a small step forward but didn’t transfer his weight. The horse didn’t move so Azmere brought his other foot up to rejoin the lead then allowed the wild animal to adjust for another chime before repeating the process. This went on for nearly half a bell and the horse had only moved once.

Azmere was now within arm’s reach of the mare and he continued to be amazed by the beauty of the creature. He had spent the last ten chimes envisioning what this amazing horse would look like when she was connected with the web and glowing. The stars in Zintila’s cloak would be jealous if you asked the Drykas. The man lifted his arms outwards from his sides very slowly and the mare shot a glance to each new movement. The large round eyes assessed the rising human appendages and lifted her head in response. Now that Azmere could see her at her full height up close, he estimated her to be thirteen or fourteen hands high. This creature was not the massive stallion that used to be Hephiestian but the watchman also noticed that this strider seemed young. Regardless, he brought his arms up until they were level with his head, palms facing outwards. The horse had yet to give Azmere an indication that he was wasting his time. His lips parted in a prayer.

“Mighty Zulrav, you gave life to this creature. The raging winds show your power to this humble servant. You tear apart the sky with wonderful light and horrible sounds that display your majesty.” Even though no one was around, Azmere interlaced Pavi signs as he spoke. The gestures were little at first as was his tone quiet. However, as the prayer wove onward, the man’s hands danced in more dramatic ways and his voice grew louder as he called out to the winds. “I have trusted your storms to renew my world since I was a child. Please, hear my words. Grant me charge of this strider. Let our bond be one of reverence; one that pays homage to our shared father.” The man paused as his prayer was coming to an end and laid his hands upon the neck of the horse, his voice returned to just louder than a whisper. “Let her life complete mine.”

The mare’s skin twitched beneath Azmere’s fingertips in a visible shiver but she did not pull away. The Drykas stood still and gradually allowed the weight of his arms to rest down upon the animal. He made this falling motion into a long and deliberate stroke against the horse’s neck which she did not seem to mind. A huge grin spread over Azmere’s face which lifted the entire right side. It even pushed against the stiff scars on his left. The colorful starbursts never left the eyes of the wild strider through this entire endeavor. The archer was doing his best to read the gossamer orbs for any indications that would help him anticipate her reactions.

Without warning, the wild animal swung her head around and shoved Azmere with her snout. The move not only caught him offguard but it knocked him back a step. He staggered a second step to regain his balance and looked with a bewildered expression at the creature. She didn’t seem to be finished and walked quickly towards the human. Again, she swung her head at him but the watchman hopped backwards on the balls of his feet. He was so surprised that he didn’t have time to think –not that he would know to make of this strange behavior. The mare walked at a steady pace using her snout to shove at his chest repeatedly. She also swung her head from side to side intermittently as if trying to knock him down.

Azmere did his best to combat this by using his hands to brush her attacks aside. The problem was that he was simply too small and too weak to truly combat the strider without delivering her harm so every few attempts would land. Each snout to the chest knocked him back a few steps and she nearly took him off his feet when he tried to hug her strong neck. The dark brown mane whipped around and snapped against the corner of Azmere’s eye. He closed it with a growl; the surprise and amazement of the situation had worn off and been replaced by frustration. The next time the mare tried to swing her head at the man, he ducked down while stepping back to completely avoid the shove. When his weight settled upon the back foot, he crouched then the watchman sprang forward. He wrapped his arms around her neck and drove his shoulder up against the creature’s throat. He squeezed with all his strength for a few ticks then relaxed his grip back into one of force but not control.

The mare conceded by remaining still. Azmere dug his fingers into the silky mane and relaxed a little more as he felt the strider’s heartbeat against his cheek. The steady thumping soon made him aware of his own beating organ. The time it took was unnoticed but it was almost like they were dancing. Azmere just held the horse’s neck in his arms and allowed the warm, soft hide to comfort him. Chimes came and went but the two beings soon shared a heartbeat. The Drykas had not known this kind of peace in a long time. Even with Hephiestian, it was almost like he had taken for granted how precious the presence of his lifelong friend had been. Azmere felt tears sting his eyes and shut his lids tight in an effort to fight them back. The mare simply stood and allowed herself to be held by this man. It seemed to be a perfect fit.

[Rufio]

　　　
　　
　　
　　
　　
　　
　　
　　
　　
　　
　　

g r a d e

xp

Bodybuilding +2
Riding, Horse +2
Pathfinding +2
Investigation +1
Weapon, Longbow +1
Tactics +1
Running +1
Endurance +2
Wilderness Survival +2
Acrobatics +1
Unarmed Combat +1

lores

The Watch: Not only comrades; friends
Cyphrus Location: Kabrin Road
Dogs smell trouble long before it appears
Grey: Faithful & intelligent
The Watch fight a grass-beast!
Endurance: Don’t stop otherwise you won’t get back up
Wilderness Survival: Collecting rainwater
Wilderness Survival: Make a windbreak to shield a fire
Wilderness Survival: Starting a fire
Wilderness Survival: Dung chips burn slow & are a scentless fire fuel on-the-go
Horses tend to spook easily
Wild srider & Azmere: Hearts beating as one
Azmere bonds with a wild Strider

If you feel I missed anything shoot me a PM.
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