Restoring the Web (Team 2)

by **Solicah** on November 14th, 2012, 7:38 am

Their first of many rests to come came quickly, all aware of their equine counterpart's limitations, their needs for frequent breaks of sleep and food, especially at the accelerated rate in which their small group traveled.

Solicah dismounted, thanked his strider with an intimidate brush of fingers through thick mane then let her wander off for food, meanwhile he reached into his own pack for water. He had been drinking more than he had anticipated whilst preparing for the journey, and would need more water soon. It would mean a slight deviation from their path, and soon, but such was anticipated in the grasslands, and would offer the striders an opportunity to hydrate as well.

Clearing water imbibed he joined with the others dismounted, and took the opportunity to give Ronan an unabashed embrace.

"So, Windsong, I heard you have been married off." He jested of course, but the sentiment was sincere. He was indeed uncertain what to think of a man who joined another Pavilion. Sama'el should have joined the Windsongs, he was the minority, the one of tragic blood.

"So," He tipped his canteen onto his hand, catching a small amount of water, then palmed the droplets onto his face to cool and cleanse, "What do you two say we tether up." His eyes gleamed suggestively, primarily at Ronan. "I couldn't help but notice something different about you, brother. Who loosed you?"

He meant, of course, who inducted him into webbing, and when it was revealed that it was Sama'el Solicah's face soured slightly. He would have liked the chance to teach Ronan himself, and couldn't deny a twinge of jealousy toward the young ankal.

As for the tether he wished to tie their group together, for fear anything unexpected happen. More than anything he wished to go for another sojourn onto the web, this time with companions.

"Right then, that is just great, well I can tether to Ronan without trouble, though perhaps you could help tether you and I?" He gave a light smile to Sama'el in hopes he could tether even to those he was unfamiliar, a skill the young Moondirge had yet to master.

by **Colt** on November 15th, 2012, 12:45 am

They had roused at sunrise and continued their journey. They were getting close; he could feel it.

The exhaustion was fading. All things, however difficult, would become easier if endured. The first days had been hellish, the next had been suppressive. Constant movement southward, unknowing of whether or not they were getting closer. Aching bodies and smarting feet had become normal. Perhaps that was why the pain was starting to fade.

They rode and walked apart in shifts so that the Drykas could forage on the move and keep an eye out for danger and possible shelter. He had claimed a patch of prickly pears and was in the process of skinning them when the stallion nickered, ears pricked and nose held high into the wind.

The man loped over to clamber onto his horse’s back. The beast snorted and set off into a slow canter, eager to find whatever he had sensed but unwilling to tire himself over it.

They came to a halt at a parting of the grass. The man slid off and into a crouch, examining the ground with a hopeful eye. Was it…?

Yes. It was hoofprints.

Hope added new energy to his weary limbs, and he rose to circle the area. One, two, three, four horses, each bearing the added weight of a rider. Drykas. It had to be. That meant that he was nearing Endrykas!

He didn’t even care that the trail was heading north, almost opposite of the path he had been taking. Drykas meant Endrykas, Endrykas meant her, and she meant safety.

He practically vaulted back onto Akaidras’ back, and the excited horse sprang into a gallop. What energy they lacked was drawn from the Web, pulling them into the almost god-like speed that the Cyphrus Striders were so valued for.

And when Akaidras slowed, the rider tensed. They were getting nearer.

He pulled the horse to a walk and slipped back into the grass, signaling for him to be cautious. Akaidras lowered his head obediently, keeping to the tallest grasses as they gained on their destination.

He heard broken speech, and adrenaline that he had thought was spent returned to his blood. He was careful to walk slowly, silently, to keep out of sight. As long as he could hear them.

Drykas. By all that was holy, it was other Drykas.

He let out a tired sigh and sank into the ground, done with his frantic dashing over the plains. He didn’t need to make himself known to them; not yet at least. Just knowing they were there, knowing that there were numbers to make him safe was enough for now.

oocAnd he makes his entrance! Well, kinda. He’s probably just going to follow the group for as long as he can without being noticed, being all sneaky-sneaky and try not to let them know he exists.

by **Sama'el Sunsinger** on November 15th, 2012, 7:07 am

Sama'el nodded to Ronan's suggestion. Something of the sort would have to be done. And he noticed Mealla's typical response with a sigh. She seemed to want to be a cookie-cutter copy, still not grasping that Webbing was not a necessary skill for a Watchman, especially if that Watchman was not a strong rider, nor competent with a weapon. He wanted to rub his temple or pinch the bridge of his nose, but decided they ought to talk, the two of them, later. It had seemed to work in the Sanctuary, but perhaps he would just have to make time for the two of them. There was trust to be built where it had already existed between him and Ronan.

They rode for about an hour at a gallop, their Striders tapping the Web to maintain speed, but they paused to reorient, not wanting to waste any energy by going off course, and it was good to keep the horses from overheating or overdoing it.

While Sama'el was watering Bigarren, Solicah asked him about tethering and he nodded, turning to Mealla.

"Are you all right with a temporary weave to connect us like a tiny pavilion should we get separated?" It wouldn't harm anything, but he thought it polite to ask her permission. But truly, she would be well pleased with it if she happened to be separated from Andraste; they would be able to track the mare without problem then.

She didn't seem to understand how vital she was, guarding them while they stepped out of their bodies. It was easier to work knowing someone was looking out for a weaver. But if she said no, he would still have to work; she would just remain without the weave, which seemed contrary to what she had said she wanted back in the Sanctuary.

But he nodded at her answer, and knelt down to assume a position that wouldn't hurt his body when his astral body crawled out of it.

"Bigarren, guard," he said. It was habit, but Mealla's bow might prove more telling than Bigarren's hooves if a murder of Ziths came flying by. It didn't take him very long anymore to quiet his mind, rein in his breath, and separate that part of himself.

A silvery astral body stepped out of him, and his head lolled down, spine rolling forward in a slump. He might have been dead but for warmth and pulse. As he waited for Solicah to join him, he began to spin silvery threads out from himself in preparation. Out here the Web was not quite so blinding as Endrykas proper.

But he was too focused on the group just then to notice Khasr, which might quickly change if he were the one to range ahead and find the most recent news of the party.

by **Ronan** on November 15th, 2012, 11:59 am

They travelled for an hour, Sama'el having agreed to Ronan's advice, and so with each little pause they reoriented themselves in the Web. They made sure they were bound for the right direction, and the pauses gave the striders short burst of rest among the fervent galloping.

When they came to one stop, Ronan gave Tairell a little feed, and patted her down. A cool wind was blowing across the grasses. He shuddered, knowing winter truly wasn't so far away.

"It is good to see you again," he finally said, catching the eye of Solicah.

Then, he listened to Sama'el's plan. A weave to connect them all. It was a good idea, but Sam seemed intent on going alone. Ronan had learnt a little more recently, his training bringing him up to a better standard.

He moved close to Sam, took shallow breaths, and plunged into the astral world with a pulse of concentration. He left his body momentarily and looked around, finding Sama'el quickly. His fingers began to wove intricate silver threads.

Ronan walked over in this barren world, and took a completed thread, walking around to begin tethering them to people. It took a lot of willpower, but Sam had already crafted the weave, and so it just required him to fix the parts together, making sure each and every soul present was fixed to the threads.

He suddenly looked to the West. He had felt something there. Someone? He would keep an eye on the disturbance, wary of the possibility of attackers. Finally, he turned back to Sam, checking if he was finished. If he was, he would gradually return to his body.

by **Solicah** on November 15th, 2012, 9:04 pm

Solicah smiles sardonically with the slightest wince as Ronan ripped from his body. It looked painful, he was set on being efficient, Solicah could tell. He couldn't blame Ronan, the man had been forced to be his strongest sine his parents death, always without a close set of loved ones to rely upon. Now that Ronan had someone close, he had to compete, got to prove to himself that he deserved to be with his new Pavilion, for fear if he was anything less than they would all parish and he would not be able to stop the threat. Just like the powerless nature of his family's death.

Solicah reached out and grabbed Ronan's drooping body, and looked at it concerned from a moment, then with a caring smile he brushed Ronan's eyes closed so they would not be dry once he returned. The Moondirge then positioned himself directly behind Ronan, letting his back lean against Ronan's to keep both upright. With a slow calm breath he carefully peeled his conscious from his body and lifted onto the other plain. Freedom again.

His eye's seemed to glow with flecks of gold as he looked to Sama'el, then Ronan with a serene smile. Honestly he felt elated to have companions of body to act as companions of web as well. He let the warmth fill him, and his "skin" began to let off what looked distinctly like rising mist, finely granulated while conveying a striking gold glow as if Syna's morning light funneled from behind him. His pure djed became more apparent, and as he revealed himself so that they all might work with his essence his entire body began to emanate a soft gold glow.

He began by reaching to his chest, to the pulsing within his chest. He pulled at the light fragments of his heart, the thinnest wisp of djed tailing outward upon his manipulations. As the wisp moved outward it began to twirl and spin inward on itself, consolidating, and as it did so it began to grow a deep and regal shade of mauve much like the paler veins in which it represented. He moved with unimpeded motion to Ronan's side and offered the beginnings of his own Djed out to Ronan.

"A strand from the heart will pulse with the heart of its origin. Weave this and even from the physical realm you will know when my heart beats to survive, and if it stops..." He had no fear in him as he conveyed this concept to the novice. He trusted Ronan with his djed, despite his lack of training. They were intimate with one another, and already shared a strong bond. In the realm of the web this could almost tie two together as tightly as a weave. It meant the world.

Solicah then reached out to Ronan's own loose strands of djed and began weaving them, searching for those that traced back to his physical heart. Like with himself he carefully made sure he caught strands that ran through Ronan's astral awareness and through to his body, so that both could be tracked.

As the two strands of heart weave reached one another Solicah guided Ronan in a weave that could intertwine them, strengthening both, and how to make sure information traded as visibly one direction as the other.

It sensation of the completed tether exhilarated Solicah. He felt the pulse of Ronan inside of him, through every vein of his existence, and knew that the echo would provide even when he returned to his body. Some Drykas would cut themselves, aware an oath of blood to that they may have a piece of one in the other, but what the Web could provide was so much more profound. Ronan could feel reports of Solicah's heart quickening to the sensation, a warmth passing along their tether.

"Welcome to the Web, Sunsinger." Solicah thought of the poetic irony between the names. Like Syna they sang to the morning light and like Leth his Pavilion gave reverence to the night. And so they were drawn to one another irrevocably in a natural cycle.

Solicah turned with warmth toward Sama'el and traveled to him, twisting off a strand to tie them as well, reaching out toward Sama'el's own heart strands.

"You have so few tethers, Ankal." He said not accusing, but as if his thoughts simply boiled from his mind into the ether around them, drifting across lay lines as water would a cord. "The cord between you can I should be small and strong. Temporary.

You should invest more with Ronan. He is the strongest brother you will ever have and I would wish that he never have to spend a moment from his Ankal, and his Ankal from him." He meant this of course in a spiritual sense. "Entwine yourself with him, Ankal Sama'el, and he will be as if another arm which will never fail, another heart to beat when yours falters, another mind to think when yours becomes clouded.

And you the same for him."

With that he continued the weave, connecting he and Sama'el, letting Sama'el brunt most of the delicate manipulation, not feeling close enough to Sama'el to fashion the weave as he had with Ronan.

Once they had both tethered to him he went to his Strider's side, reached within himself and found the thick cord which held him fast to her. He carefully wove more of his heart djed into it, connection Ronan and Sama'el through him to his strider. He would not abide them connecting directly to her, she was something Private. His heart he would share, but his Strider... He sent love along his tether to the beast, then turned to his companions again.

It bothered him to see Ronan in his apparent haste. The newly born Sunsinger focused so much on the structures around him, and nothing to the life itself which pulsed around them. Was he simply blind in his naivety of the Web, or was he afraid to lose himself to the beauty? Solicah brushed himself through Ronan one more time, a warmth, an exciting sensation before returning to his body, falling down into it. Perhaps Ronan was just concerned for the search party, they had spent some time on the Web, and when one if new tot he practice time can as easily stretch on forever as it can disappear without warning. He hoped that Ronan would learn to love the Web as much as Solicah had. It was a magical place, and magic was love. Was all.

His chest ached when he returned, the djed extracted from the seed of himself had taken a toll. His body tingled and mind burned into the back of his skull, with his eyes somewhat unable to focus. He, for one, had no hope of detecting their stalker, it would be up to the horses at this point.

by **Mealla Stormsong** on November 15th, 2012, 9:40 pm

Mealla simply watched, and joined Bigarren in guarding.

by **Jackalope** on November 18th, 2012, 1:20 am

ooc :

As the three men seperated from their physical bodies to tie to the web, Mealla was left to guard the otherwise unprotected men. While the webbing could allow a Drykas to scan hundreds of miles at a time, their spirits running free, at the same time they were left vulnerable. As though the gods were playing a joke, soon after the three quarters of the team separated themselves to begin weaving, the winds would change.

Mealla could feel it deep in her being. Zulrav was speaking, and something was off. The gust that swirled around her was no longer giving that playful, energetic feeling from earlier. It felt like..like a warning. The beating of leathery wings would give her the answer to what the warning was.

Khasr would see them coming in the distance. There were four..no, five of them. Bat like wings flapping, lifting them across the morning sky. The sun gave the creatures a silhouette against the horizon as the rapidly approached the recovery team. They were focused on the group, leaving the lone Drykas unseen. What lay before them were slaves and their even more appetizing Striders. It was a meal and an opportunity which couldn't be passed up.

For those working the web, it was a difficult situation. The With the focus on creating the new lines of webbing between all in the group, they wouldn't see them coming until they finished with their initial task or were somehow warned of the impending attack. With everyone connected, however, in the event of a separation during the confusion, it would be much easier to track each other down. The Sea of Grass was unforgiving, and the airborne predators would make sure that was known.

Regardless, the first two Zith would swoop down, spears in hand towards the group, the others seeming to bide their time to see what the capabilities were which they faced. Their mouths were open as though they were in communication, but no sounds could be heard, yet the way the reacted showed the messages were coming through clear.

The Zith were upon them, and something needed to be done.

by **Mealla Stormsong** on November 22nd, 2012, 4:24 pm

If there was ever a time to feel alone it was now, as she stood over the three men and waited and watched, one hand on Andraste’s neck, an action that had always brought her reassurance, and one that wasn’t entirely without thought – for being close to the mare meant that she was within easy reach of her weapons should she so need them, but she wouldn’t, because this was something simple that they must have done many times before. Nothing would happen. Nothing could happen. Boredom was the only thing that she would likely encounter. Boredom and loneliness.

And then the winds shifted, and she froze, her whole body becoming still, every line, every muscle tensing as she reached out and listened to them. Her heart started to pound, and foreboding crept through her, creeping its way through her veins and making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She was suddenly cold, ice cold, though the temperature had not changed, and the mark on the back of her shoulders burnt. The playfulness had gone from the winds; in its place a screaming warning, but not about what, until she heard the leathery beat of wings, a sound that every Drykas knew. Zith. More beast than man, or so they said. The gods help her. Zulrav help her. What was she supposed to do? She was... She’d... She’d be one person against who knew how many, because there was no way that she could bring the others back to their bodies. Not in time. Not quickly enough. She didn’t know how. She’d never been taught, and she almost laughed hysterically at that as she swiftly twisted and snatched her bow and an handful of arrows from where they were tied to the yvas. They should have told her. Taught her. They should have done something. Anything.

She made no move for her scimitar, knowing her skill in it was not good enough to make any difference. Any Zith would laugh and knock the weapon aside in an instant, and she’d be helpless and defenceless. And so, instead, she bent the end of the bow-stave, slipping the string's loop over the horn, stringing it. An arrow was instantly on the string barely a second later as she stepped forward, in front of the men, the one thing between them and the approaching Zith. Her heart continued to pound, and her palms grew sweaty, but she ignored it as she pulled back the string, drawing it back and then back to her ear, ready to shoot. The tip of the arrow trembled slightly, and a strand of hair fell into her face. She made no move to reach for it, but instead tossed her head, her gaze never dropping from the sky, searching, constantly searching, her body still tense, as drawn as the bowstring. Zith. How could it be Zith? Why now? Why not when they were travelling? There was no way that she could do this. There was no way that she could protect three men. They were as good as dead.

But she wouldn’t die without a fight.

And as soon as she saw the two Zith, spears clasped in hand, she let the first arrow fly.

by **Colt** on November 26th, 2012, 4:34 pm

Slowly, the tension that he hadn’t known was there leeched from his body. He let out a soft sigh, but restrained himself from falling completely into exhausted sleep. He needed to remain alert, at least alert enough to hear the group of Webbers if they decided to leave.

Something dark flickered in the corner of his eye. He snorted irritably and turned, and with a bit of squinting the shapes would become slightly more defined.

He blinked, a sense of foreboding resonating deep in his gut. No. It couldn’t be. They were moving, great wings flapping silently in the distance. He slowly rolled from where he lay, every fiber of his body shivering. Somewhere, a growl rose from the deepest recesses of his memory, a beast that had been locked away but paced the bars of a fragile cage.

And as the Zith neared, the man slipped into the deep cover of the grass. Their shadows passed overhead and he crouched as deeply into the shadows as he could, unwilling to risk their attention.

Two of the five spilled sky from their wings and descended, causing the hunter to turn his attention to where the team had come to rest. What? Were they sleeping? Only one of the number stood tall: a woman, garbed in the whites and silvers of the Diamond Clan. She, too, had noticed the approaching threat, and moved for an unstrung bow and quiver of arrows slung across the withers of a palomino Strider. Did she hope to fell the beasts with her sticks?

He bit his cheek, torn between his hiding place and standing by her side. Alone, she would have little chance of defeating the hunters of the sky. Would he risk making his presence known, even if to help another of his kind?

In the end, it wasn’t reason that decided. When the two dark forms slid into his field of vision, something stirred within him. Vague, it was, little more than a memory of a memory. But it was powerful, and a stone of white-hot heat, white-hot hatred began to burn in his stomach. He bared his teeth quietly, and his hand found its way to the knife bound to his calf.

With a heated efficiency his mind whirled over what he knew of the Zith. They were nocturnal, so right now he had the advantage of concealment. As long as he chose his path wisely, he should be able to remain out of sight. Silent, though… that was a different matter.

Ever so carefully, his fingers brushed the ground before him, quickly snatching up any stones he found. When one hand was full, he tossed a stone far to his left, taking a single step when the stone landed. He hoped the Zith wouldn’t notice either of them with their focus on the Diamond woman, but if they did then the stones were meant to try and draw them to a false path, away from him.

He slipped slowly through the grass in this manner, throwing a stone every time he took a step. If there was anything he knew of, it was hunting. Today, his skill would be put to the test.

by **Solicah** on November 26th, 2012, 7:37 pm

Painful pricks flowed throughout Solicah's body as he settled back in, knowing full well his body approached its limit for webbing for some time. His desire to show off may have drained him of unnecessary djed, but he returned him to contentiousness fastest, and so he was the first of the Drykas Webbers to hear the dread report of leathery wings. It struck him as a washed out annoyance at first, a singing in his ears, but as soon as the sound became clear enough, of the silent yet frantic rustling of the women near him became evident Solicah's eyes flung open. Pain resounded from inside them, main shot through his skull. Colors were muted, sounds were distant, and everything had splotched of black beating in heart beats within the air. It would only last a few minutes, Solicah knew he had to but remain still and breath calmly to reduce the piercing pain to a dull tightness. But, he hadn't time.

Solicah sat up, at some attempt of stealth, but it was a botch. Pain shot through his hands and arm, causing a clumsy ascent as the world around him tilted and shifted in a disorienting manner. He closed his eyes tight against the pain, and pressed his teeth together against the aches, hissing on an inhale quite loudly. A moment later he stood on screaming legs, and found his strider faithfully by his side. She was afraid, Solicah could feel it. He touched her neck, and it tossed in agitation then turned to keep a side eye on the predators racing toward them. Sound still had little direction but with Aureunna's awareness Solicah roughly discerned their direction and distance. Not as far as he would have hoped.

Aureunna wanted him to mount, for them to run, and most of Solicah felt the same. But, even with his eyes clamped shut against the pain he could see the tethers he had just fashioned, still gleaming and glowing with freshly exerted djed. Both Sama'el and Ronan lay calm, with no signs of stress. They hadn't returned yet, were they still speaking? Were they returning slowly? Finishing their tether with Maella. There was no way for Solicah to know for sure from this side, they hovered too far beyond the veil, inside of the laylines themselves. Solicah could not bare leaving them there defenseless. It was a fear all Webbers had. That one day they would step away and fire or cold or some creature could claim them while away, and without warning the djed would dissipate and forever you would be lost away from loved ones.

Solicah opened his eyes, squinting against the white lifeless light from above, and searched for the other two. He spotted Sama'el first, but with the sound of Zith growing closer he felt a choice was upon him. He stumbled toward Sama'el and push him down, a bit roughly, making sure he was concealed by the sparse grasses. Then, he located Ronan and moved behind him, wrapping his arms under Ronan's and hoisted him awkwardly up, letting out a strained exhale at his still weak body, warning him against exertion. Another force fueled him as he beckoned Aureunna over though, a force that pushed him beyond the pain, adrenaline. Solicah had never faced Zith before, and he felt certain he would die. He had never anticipated, after all of his training, his upbringing, that this would fill with him so much fear. Death was just losing your body, so what was he afraid of? The pain? Of torture, no, he could leave that all behind on whim. There was something deeper that killed the young Drykas man with terror.

Tairell pressed against Solicah, bumping him on the shoulder and giving a loud nip at the air near Solicah's face. This had not been the first time Tairell had faced Zith with Ronan, in fact Zith blood as signed their fateful meeting long before. But, what truly frightened Tairell was knowing that Ronan was beyond reach, that it had no way of knowing if its warning and panic could reach him, wherever he had gone.

It wasn't Tairell that Solicah struggled Ronan's limp body onto, but Aureunna. She stood, shifting and making uneasy noises, hurried. She hated whatever Solicah was doing, and feared exactly what he had in mind. Solicah understood Aureunna, and had faith he could keep her calm while pushing what must feel like a corpse onto her, he couldn't know that Tairell would behave the same, so he pushed at Tairell, still flicking ears and stomping behind him, and strapped Ronan onto Aureunna the best possible from his tangle, his still burning fingers fumbling awkwardly with the loops and buckles.

Aureunna was set up to hold an unconscious rider, and though it would slow her down, she could get them away fastest. And, as Solicah stared into Aureunna's eyes he realized his true motivation. What more did he love here then Aureunna and the calm Drykas that came to his Pavilion so long before? Not even himself.

He pushed Aureunna's neck, then hindquarters, urging to her run. After a stubborn moment, her fire gleaming harshly toward him. A side Solicah rarely got to see in her, he retaliated with a bit of his own fire. He glared her in the eyes and slapped her hindquarters. With a bit of a jump she trotted off a moment, then stopped, beginning to circle the small troupe, refusing to flee without Solicah, making full well to watch the bow women and her deadly arrows.

Solicah gritted his teeth as another wave of pain shot through him, and he moved to Sama'el's side, lending a glance to Mealla, a simple almost disregarding expression of comradery before struggling with Sama'el's body. Unlike Ronan Solicah had no reason to put Sama'el's life before his, but asa Drykas, as a Moondirge his life would be spent protecting others. They were one, Drykas. Their life, their death, their rebirth. There was never knowing who had saved your life in the past, and who had died for you, so there could be no such thing as favors, or debt to a fellow Drykas. He saved Sama'el out of pure obligation, without thought, or love as he did Ronan. He just simply did.

He had not gotten the man far before he stirred within Solicah's strained arms. With a breath of relief Solicah deposited Sama'el against his strider, remaining close to help him stand as he regained control of his body. Though, his full attention turned toward the torrent of midnight hue approaching.

Quest Restoring the Web (Team 2)