Solo Testing, One, Two, Three.

[Morvale Barrows]

40th Of Fall 513 AV

Morvale had lasted for little over a month in the citadel, his rations were low and his beef jerky and wine were also near depletion. He'd eaten ok on the island, and had kept himself in good condition up to this point. He needed his strength and endurance to make use of his physical skill set and apply his personal magic.

He found himself now on display amongst a panel of those undead nuits.

On the stage he walked up to the panel.

His little theory on magic spells and casting times was there are brief moments between drawing Djed and creating the weave. And if he applied the right amount of speed and reflex to the right techniques he could catch a Mage of the casting variety in those brief moments of vulnerability . He wanted the Nuit to be impressed, they were to observe him and he wanted there slow reflex to play a part in his display of showmanship.

When he felt he was ready to begin he focused on the flux energy, and began building it up as he had done before. And just like before he concentrated on his hips that gyrated in a twist through his torso and into his leg. A deep breath as he readied himself before pushing the energy down. As he released the burst of flux energy he drove it down to his leg, proper timing came into play as his body shifted in a dizzying backwards thrust as his leg planted itself behind him. It caused him to spiral back in a whirring movement so fast it was hard to keep up with as he went from forward guard into a side stance.

The idea was for the panel of the undead to attempt to witness him move without being able to perceive his movement. Almost as if he blinked from one stance to the other, a living being would have trouble keeping up with such a turbulent burst of magically enhanced reflex.

"I made this item on my stay on the island, while it's paltry at best do remember this was the best I could do with what I had.

I slayed a rat in my room, and used its tibia to what I hope tapped into the creatures agility it's speed and reflex. I used everything that I could from the rat, keeping its bones tightly clustered as I pursed them in the creatures own skin and fur. "

He curtly nodded and placed the item he hoped he enchanted around his neck, this the coin bag he stuffed the fetish into.

Reaching for a dagger he unsheathed it, and assumed a different stance one more suitable for throwing.

His next stunt would be a culmination of everything that defined him, his mixed blood lineage, his physical acrobatic prowess, his pursuit of flux magic and lastly his maledicted item. All working in a form of symbiosis or synergy.

He channeled the flux energy at the bottom of his foot and released it as he stepped forward towards his target a wooden board. He let the energy travel through his hips, then through his back building it up in explosion of energy that traveled through his shoulders down his arm to his fingers before releasing it catapulting that dagger at a monstrous velocity as it tumbled in a barreling roll towards the target with a thwaping noise as sharp point blew into the board.

And that was it everything he had, he wondered what the general impression would be.

[Mirage]

The five judges sat before Morvale, and during the whole of the performance they did not say a word. Only minor whispers escaped from the crowd that had come to witness the Judgement, but over all the reaction was sub-par. The judges took just a moment to confer with each other, before the one who sat in the middle, a nuit in the body of a male Symenestra, stood and cleared his throat, "While the halls of an... inferior establishment might praise your technique, I fear your abilities are not to the level that Sahova would expect from one who would wish to apprentice." He waved his hand in a regal fashion, indicating the room and Sahova as a whole, "Here you will find those who are master's of their arts. Great creators of magic, benders of the elements, crafters of enchantments and curses alike. There is an art that must be woven into each spell, and some disciplines of magic find they are more easily accepted in this way. The nuit sat once more, and those beside him nodded their agreements with his words. One who had the body of an Isur woman missing her right arm looked at Morvale and spoke, "While your technique may be acceptable, Sahova has no use for those with your brand of skills. Your judgement has ruled you unfitting to take your place as an apprentice. Return once you have learned something of use to the Citadel." The crowd seemed rather bored, already murmuring to each other about the next to take his or her judgement. None even bothered to look as the failed applicant made his way to the door. Well save for one. A woman on the very back row, sitting near the isle. Long hair the color of the sun at sunset, teeth that looked as if they belonged i the mouth of a shark, and streaks of silver running from the corner of each eye down her cheeks. As Morvale passed she would lean close to him, whispering softly, "Go past the Vestibule, to where the Citadel give way to a forest in the west. There you will meet someone who will find an interest in you." She winked and looked back to where the next applicant was preparing his performance, waving for Morvale to hurry. *** If he followed the mysterious woman's instructions Morvale would find himself at the edge of a dense woods, the Citadel at his back and the sun overhead. A large beast of a man sat with his back to a tree, arms with bulging muscles crossed over a barrel chest. His hair was cut short to his scalp, and when he looked up Morvale could see that his eyes were a muddy green. "Who are you...?"

[Morvale Barrows]

Morvale was left in a state of panicked shock, he contemplated his options as he looked around bewildered. All his trials and tribulations in the last forty days, the effort the hard work it seemed to amount to nothing. It was a lot to take in, he almost wanted to break down infront of the panel, but he kept his breathing fluid and rhythmic even though he could feel the tension in his chest. It was bad enough to be told that he didn't cut it, although the symmenstras eccentric flare sugar coated the ordeal there was a sliver of hope that glimmered that he had to polish his talents he just needed to dig a little deeper.

But then that woman spoke, that horrible one armed woman destroyed that one little fragment that he was holding onto dearly. Not only did he not cut it, he was unfit for apprenticeship at any level. It was a real dark feeling that he felt in the pit of his stomach as he regained control over his fleeting mind and came to his senses.

His abilities weren't the problem, he was the problem.

It was a real nasty feeling in him, was it resentment? There was certainly frustration and anger there but he wasn't a loose cannon that would randomly lash out physically. Although verbally was an exception.

My brand of skills?

He quirked his brow at the isure

The only art mages create is that of death and deception, many artists come and go. But the truly great ones are overlooked until they are gone.

He bowed out and made his way to the door

And then a woman's voice rang out telling him to go to the forest in the west, he didn't stop and look at her. He was so wound up about the incident until he actually exited the hall.

Anger, resentment, inadequacy

He decided he'd go to the forest and meet up with the person that was interested in him.

Although Morvale was still shaken about failing his exam

When he made it to his destination he met a mountain of a man, he wasn't sure exactly what he wanted him for. But when asked what his name was he replied, while looking up at him.

My names Morvale,
Why would you want to meet with me? I failed my judgement.

[Mirage]

The man looked Morvale up and down, eyes slits as as he said, "You have failed the deadies judgement, not mine..." His voice was deep and flowed with a graceful lit that seemed better fitting of a bard than such a large bodied warrior. He spoke with the skill of a great orator, as refined as any ambassador were his pitches.

Standing to his feet the man brushed off his leggings and crossed his arms once more. He stood nearly a foot taller than Morvale, and he looked down upon the man with eyes that clearly showed doubt as to the quality of what he saw, "Riyanna ssent you to me... Well sshe must have seen something that I don't. You look flesshy and weak, and your sscrawny at that. What are you good at Morvale? What makess you sso sspecial to warren my attention? A very slight hiss accented his S's, but it was not so prominent that it took away from the flow of his words. It could almost be ignored if the man had not said so many words that contained the letter.

Clearly the man was weighing Morvale, making his own judgments. It might just be that Fate had intervened, for better or for worse, but that would depend upon what Morvale said next.

[Morvale Barrows]

There was something about that collosus green eyed man that really got under Morvales skin. Although he could not pin point exactly what it was his, all he knew was his blood was simmering, something was putting him on edge. It was a different this was not hate or dislike this was a primal sensation one that dwelled not in his mind but in his sinew and bones the viper in him was hissing. He didn't know what it meant, but something in the fibers of his being had been stirred.

His voice was soothing almost therapeutic, he seemed graceful and charming just by the the deep tone of his voice.

Was it his size ? Or was it those freakish eyes? Was it the tone of his voice? Maybe he was in a bad mood about failing his judgement.

It was then that he began speaking

So that was her name, the woman that had sent him to this neck of the woods.

Riyanna he said to himself quietly in his mind.

As he continued what had been coiled up in his core finally lashed out.

And you look to broad and to tall, way too bulky at that. How fast are you with all that weight slowing you down? Agility and reflex seem to be my bread and butter but I doubt you know anything about that. You look like any other slow and clumsy body builder, what makes you so special?

It was true that he would poke at him, but something stirred within him about that very last word ~special~ the human in him wanted to taunt him with extra s's in the word. But strangely his other half declared it uncooth, so strange and perplexing. Why would the antagonist declare that was a step to far?

Morvale kept himself at the ready, as he let himself sink into his inner shadow. He felt it swirling like water within him, he knew he had provoked him and he knew that just standing there might be trouble.

It was hard to explain why the warm blood in him said oh dear, and the other cold blooded half cackled In delight.

It just felt so natural, what was this about.

[Mirage]

The man raised an eyebrow, remaining silent for a moment as he simply stared at Morvale. Then lights bursts before Morvale's eyes, and he heard a deafening scream, shrill and terrible fill his ears. Before his very eyes he saw himself, limbs torn off his body, head crushed like a grape between the fingers of a giant. It was only then that he felt the pain spreading from the middle of his chest outwards, driving the wind from his lungs and launching him back several feet until he fell flat on the ground. Just as his vision began to clear and he could make out the outline of the man before him, striding toward him, another vision encompassed his mind, images of his internal organs ripped out and crippling waves of fear spread through his body, mobilizing him with the sheer strength of it as his body trembled of its own accord. Someone gripped him by the back of his neck, bodily lifting him and throwing him into the hair, and once more the air was driven from his lungs as his back connected with the sturdy trunk of a nearby tree.

The visions began to fade once more, and Morvale was just lucid enough to see the large man wrap his fingers around his throat, nearly cutting off any attempts to breath as he lifted him bodily into the air over his head. The man stared into Morvale's eyes, an irritated hiss leaving his lips as he said, "Stupid hatchling. You are 100 yearsss too early to think of challenging me. I sssmell your tainted blood, but I chossse to look passst it at your potential. You ssstink of vermin viper, the lowest of our kind and the biggessst talkerss. Worthlesss to talk if you can not back it up." He released Morvale, letting him fall to the ground and proceeding to spit on the ground near the young man's hand, "My blood tellsss me to kill you now, but Sssahova is not a nessst. We do not follow the ssame rulesss here. Viper and Consstrictor are not enemiesss here. There are far too many other thingsss to be afraid of, and to the deadiess we Dhani are nothing more than interesssting play thingsss. Even you half blood vermin." He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned down slightly over Morvale, "Ssso, either you may die by my handsss or you can become a tesst sssubject of the deadies. Or you may prove to me that you are worth keeping alive, and I will make you strong in this wasteland. No running back to your nesst now hatchling."

[Morvale Barrows]

He felt that smug little grin creep up on his lips, that petching guy was to slow to get him. He was almost certain he'd take him out, he had that confident up beat stride like it was his moment to shine. Had he not spent most of season trapped in his room training for this? The deadies even spoke of how his technique was acceptable before telling him that what he was a complete joke and shooing him off the showroom floor.

How terribly mistaken he was, everything he knew about magic was thrown out the window. It what he had done amounted to nothing.

His mind suddenly out of nowhere went awry, it was like a nightmare that came to life. He could feel that beast rip his arms from his sockets, his mind twisting in a blur as the power tore his limbs completely off. he could feel and hear his bones snapping and popping. Even The minor sensations came to life, he could feel the blood dripping from his arms that had blown off and from his ears as the horrifying shriek blew his eardrums out. He was in a state of shock as he felt his head get gripped by that monsters hands, it was unreal as he felt his skull crushed beneath tremendous brute force a little gore as his eyeballs burst still hanging from sinew between his fingers. It was unbelievable that he had died so quickly his mind ran frantic until he realized he was still thinking?

It mattered not though, as he tried to move his body overwhelmed with fear. It shot through him this wave of terror, even when he tried to react he could not. His body quaked in tremor as he fought his arms to react but nothing came from it. It was a mixture of belief and disbelief one part of his mind told him his arms were no longer there the other screaming at him to do something. Before he had time to react to it however he felt a collosal fist grip his throat, he felt a sudden heave and he was airborn the only comfort was being stopped as his back slammed into a nearby tree cold cocking the wind right out of him. It was a devastating blow to his psyche as he tried to regain himself, his mind was groggy and blurred between fantasy and reality.

Still trying to regain his breath, endlessly choking and hacking to take in precious air. His shaky hand stammering to try and scoop his organs in dragging in muck and dirt from the onslaught of his hallucination. He thought it was over and he was on his hands and knees, the pain surged through his back and shoulders it was intense and sharp in a way that immobolized him. That was until he came back for a second helping, felt the grip coil around his throat. Cutting off his air supply indefinitely the only thing he heard was his heart beating as adrenaline pumped wildly through his veins for nothing. He tried to claw at constrictors hands to no avail as he simply let go and dropped him to the floor like a sack of shyke.

He laid there face first in the muck of the dirt, at least he'd spared him the humiliation of spitting on him. He twitched as fresh air made contact with his lungs and he curled up into a fetal position unsure of what to do.

He said things, things that made the viper wildly furious but common sense finally came to the rescue. His words came to him in blotched sentences fuzzy and static, things about being a hundred years old or that he wasn't at the nest. He spoke of things he did not know or understand, things that were never mentioned in his life in Zeltiva. He was treated like a real Dhani, yet the mixed blood knew not of what it meant.

He'd been beaten into submission there was nothing left, he could almost feel the foot about to drop on his skull he could invision his death but not as a make believe fantasy this was truly happening to him in the real world.

Submissive and beaten

"I..,if, how to pro.."

Chocked and spat

"Prove I'm worth your time"

It was all he could muster as he was now a scared rat scampering for his survival.

[Mirage]

The man cracked his knuckles, grabbing Morvale by his collar and lifting him clear off the ground before setting him on his feet. A wave of calm washed over Morvale, some confidence returning as the man brushed the dust off of his clothing. Stepping back he nodded, "Sshow me your sskillss. Riyanna iss not one to sssend me ssomeone who is completely useless. Pray that sshe did not make a misstake."

Setting his hands on his hips the man cracked his neck, rolling his shoulders and then crooked a finger at Morvale, "Sshow me what you've got. If I don't like it I will kill you here, but if you sshow some promiss I will teach you my wayss. Think you are up for it hatchling?"

OOCSorry short post! Setting up for the next one ^.^. The challenge is set, what will Morvale do!?

[Morvale Barrows]

For the third time morvale was heaved from his feet off the ground as a glimmer of confidence washed across his form. Once he had been placed back on his feet Hed been dusted off like some raggedy doll, and he felt his feet wobbling to try and regain his balance. He seemed like he was ready to prove himself until those negative feelings had re emerged. Everything he had done on this wretched rock had done little to help him, he trained his hardest and for what? To be hit by things way out of his league, that dog already had done a number to his arm and his maledicted items had been failures on every level. It seemed the semblance of confidence had dimished and his attitude grew dim and sullen.

"I've no wish for this", he spat on the ground as his head felt like a spinning coin.

He turned and headed off on his way, he was a beaten man that reached his hands to far to the night to try and grasp the stars. His dreams were delusions and whatever he thought of himself was surely a reflection of his actions. The pain in his back and shoulders rhythmically pulsed in throbbing pain. His left arm was also at this point starting to fester, as he made an attempt to leave this place.

[Mirage]

The man did not say anything as Morvale turned to leave, and Morvale would make it some ways before he heard the sound of something heaving hitting the ground behind him. Sounds of shuffling, something slithering and heavy weight being dragged across the earth, and then suddenly he would see something out of the corner of his eye streak past him, circle him and then arch high over his head.

In the span of a few seconds he was completely surrounded by writhing coils of scaly skin that moved and slithered over itself. Dark brown with streaks of black the serpent tail was as thick as a tree trunk, easily wider than Morvale's shoulders. The coils pressed in close to him, and above him stretched the main body of the Dhani, a serpent head attached to a rather human body. His shoulders were large and wide, bigger than even before, and the muscles of his abdomen and biceps bulged and strained with their own strength. Looking down at Morvale the Dhani hissed, "I told you hatchling... Either you become a tessst sssubjection of the deadiess or I will kill you myssself. I have no intention of letting the wizardsss get another pulssser in their ranksss, ass apprenticesss or tesst sssubject. Ssso you die here... Or you prove to me you are worthy of becoming MY Initiate."

He hissed and beared his fangs at Morvale. The Dhani's mouth stretched wide, wide enough to swallow Morvale whole, but instead he swatted him with the back of his hand sending him sprawling on the ground once more beyond the coils, "I am Gresshal, Warden of the Mudpoolsss. Live or die hatchling. Either you become my Initiate, or you die a pathetic failure. DECIDE!" He lurched forward, slithering in an S shape toward Morvale, stretching out his arms as he prepared to take Morvale into a death grip to end his life completely.

OOCBig Dhani coming after you!! What will you do!? The suspense is killing me XD