Completed Out for Blood II

[Kynier]

Continued From...

Under the table, Kynier clenched a hand into a fist so tightly that it hurt. Had he dug his nails into the palm of his hand, blood would have been draw and muscles would have been cut. How could he have been so stupid? If he had used Auristics he may have been able to avoid the embarrassment of losing and losing something he never thought he’d lose. Kynier cared not for the loss of gold. It was the cold iron blade being taken by someone else that set his veins on fire. What made it worse, it had not been taken over his beaten form.

How many times had he managed to avoid losing his life in the back alleys of the city? How many occurrences had there been where he lay in the filth after having suffered a beating but still kept every possession he owned? The only thing the violence of Sunberth had managed to take from him over the years were portions of his blood. To others, it was only a weapon. Imbued with magic that he had been ignorant of for well over a decade, which made it extra valuable, but still a weapon. Short swords were easy to come by. Even in a city that preferred the use of daggers. But still…

It almost felt like he was losing a limb. Already, he was conscious of the reduced weight on his belt where the weapon had always hung. It had to have absorbed some of his life essence by now. Kynier had worn it everyday since the death of his family. That blade had been one of the few consistencies of his life, and now he was robbed of it. Over a petching card game! Narim was smiling and laughing as he strapped the weapon to his own hip. Kynier felt his face flush so much that it grew warm in the cheeks and around the ears. With a deep but quiet breath he tried to calm himself.

You’re going to kill this man anyway. And at that time, you can reclaim what is rightfully yours.

That thought alone was able to affect his mood a lot. The fury quelled down significantly. Enough that he was able to force a smile of being a good sport about his lose. Though the smile was a lie. “Shyke,” he said casually. “Now I’ll be forced to seek a healer the next time a slave tries to gut me.” Narim laughed and the others gave soft chuckles. Ghuno was watching Kynier very carefully, but the younger man failed to notice it. Kynier stood up from his seat slowly. “And it would seem, gentlemen, that I have lost what I have budgeted for today’s escapade. It was a pleasure meeting each of you.” Kynier stepped around the corner to do something he’d never normally do. A hand reached out and squeezed the game hostess’ rump before giving it a playful slap. “And a pleasure to meet you as well,” he said in a way that he thought was flirtatious. He didn’t really know. He wasn’t that sort of male.

Renold and Narim both bid him farewell as he turned and made for the exit. The rage was subsiding, and his body was beginning to feel numb from the encounter. Walking through the thick haze of tobacco smoke, Kynier made his way out the door and down the stairs. The intensity of the noise from the gambling pen had only increased since he initially went upstairs to the private rooms. Had he not been so annoyed at what had transpired, Kynier would have considered moving around the gambling pen again and using Projection to procure supplemental funding. That was not the reason he had come to Tall Johnny’s in the first place.

Had the option been available, Kynier never would have come at all. He had reliable work from Doler and no longer suffered shortages of funding for basic living essentials, like food. Rather than allow the temptation to be consistent, Kynier made his way past the strange gold-plated statue and went outside. Barging out of the double door he was hit with the cold of the rain and wind for an instant. He had not realized how warm it had been in Tall Johnny’s. His cloak’s magic quickly adjusted to keep him comfortable despite the rain which had grown fiercer while he was inside. There was also a rumble of thunder from the heavens. It seemed that Zulrav intended to inhabit the city for a time.

Tilting his head back allowed the rain to patter across his face. The feeling of the fresh water helped to calm him down even further. Mentally, he suppressed his bond with his bondmate so that she would not sense how great his frustration was unless she were to suddenly appear next to him. With a deep inhale of the cool air, Kynier continued his way back towards the Midnight Gem. When he was nearly out of sight of the main entrance to Tall Johnny’s he started to run. Feet sloshed through the rising water in the streets as he ran back home. He needed to change quickly so that he could get back and follow the Benshiran when he left. Kynier would have changed his clothing at the casino, but the need to be out of the smoke-filled building had been too great.

Running up the steps to the balcony’s entrance was not as quick as it normally was. Rain was falling in thick sheets that obscured sight and made surfaces slick. Upon stepping into the Great Room, the fire erupted into existence in the heart. “Hello Gem,” he said to the structure. “I can’t stay long,” he said as he took his cloak off to hang by the fire. Kynier stripped off his black silk vest and hung it up as well. Then he pulled the blue velvet shirt over his head and let it fall to the floor. Kneeling, he dug into his pack to remove one of his older shirts. A plain linen that had several cuts in its fabric that had never been sewn back together.

Kynier pulled it over his head then dug through his pack again to pull out his dark green vest. With it on, he felt more like himself despite how incomplete the ensemble was. Kynier slung the pack back over his shoulders as he took the cloak from its place. As it settled on his shoulders he walked back out into the rain and pulled the hood up. It was time to finish his business and reclaim what was his.



NaNo Post: 1,107

Boxcode credit goes to Gossamer!

[Kynier]

30ft of Fall, 518 A.V.

He had taken position by a stone pillar along the path out of Tall Johnny’s Casino and fighting arena. The spot was close enough that the three sets of double doors were barely visible through the rain. The weather was intensifying as thunder rumbled more regularly and the rain came down in an impressive shower. The time it had taken to change clothes had only been chimes before he had been back. That meant that even if Narim Avuel decided to leave right away, Kynier had been quick enough to not miss him. The time it would have taken him to collect all his winnings and get the exchanged for gold mizas would have taken some time. That was unless Tall Johnny’s had some sort of arrangement to transfer the money to the upper echelon of their clientele.

Regardless, Kynier waited by the pillar as the storm hammered down on and around him. He calmed his mind and listened to the rapid thumping of rain on the hood of his cloak. When he reached a deep state of calm, he summoned his Djed. A hand removed the dagger that was strapped to the back of his belt. Kynier took the blade to a fingertip to draw a drop of blood. The mage created a weave of Shielding, one that he had wrap around his face. It went over the bridge of his nose and under the eyes to cover everything below on his face and neck. He offered the drop of blood to the shield weave to create a task.

Mentally, he concentrated on blocking light so that it would not reach his face. Concealment and obstruction of sight. Kynier felt the change in the weave as the magic settled over his skin. Then he sheathed the dagger again and set his eyes back on the entrance to the enormous brick structure. The forms of the six Akalaks just barely visible. Their blue tinted skins adding more concealment to their current environment. He couldn’t do it out here. The six members of the warrior race would rush out and interfere. They would probably even take the Benshiran’s side of the confrontation, now that he was a “masked” person that would soon be an assailant.

What seemed like bells had passed as he waited. The magic of his possessions were the only things that kept him from catching a sickness. The winds were whipping at him, making Kynier draw his cloak around him and hold it together with a hand. The day must have changed into the next as he waited. Kynier looked gave a glance around out of mild boredom. He thought he noticed some movement behind one of the other stone pillars. But as he stared at the place the he thought he had seen it, nothing happened. Must have been a trick of the eyes. He turned his attention back to Tall Johnny’s.

Some time had passed, and people were exiting the structure. Upon realizing the severity of the rain, they dawned their coats and their cloaks and started to run through the storm. Kynier pressed himself against the stone pillar and examined each person that went by. None of them were the Benshiran and he swore out of impatience. How much longer did the petching piece of azmashe intend to stay inside? Lightning began to arch across the clouds, which gave brief moments of bright light to see more clearly through the rain. The storm was growing extreme and the smart thing would have been to seek shelter. Kynier did not. He was angry on multiple levels. That he was unable to stop someone from endangering his way of life and the way of life of those closest to him. That he lost the item with the most sentimental value he had.

Kynier had not realized how attached to the cold iron short sword he was. A tendency of his that he wished he could break out of. Not understanding the value he placed in something until it was gone suddenly. The weapon had been with him most of his life and felt like an extension of his arm at this point when he held it. It contained power that had saved his life before and accelerated him through many ordeals that would have been painful and uncomfortable. All these things, and he had not so much as granted the sword a name. Perhaps it already had one. All he needed to do was look at it with his Auristics more deeply to find it. The way he had with Glister.

A figure came out of the brick structure. One that was enveloped in a large fur-trimmed cloak. Kynier took a step closer and peered at the figure as it walked down the steps and away from the building. It was Narim. The cold iron short sword hung at his waist, and Kynier would’ve recognized it anywhere. With a breath, Kynier drew on his Djed for his Auristics. His Sight opened for him and the whole world was filled with a fog of the storm’s aura. Through the gray and blue haze of the storm he saw the white and sandy brown aura of the Benshiran. He locked his focus on the aura, so that he could track the man from a comfortable distance if necessary.

When the man passed by Kynier held himself tight against the pillar to remain unseen. After a few tick he detached himself from his position and pursued his target. Narim was heading west through Baroque Bay along the Mudway’s length. Kynier started making plans in his mind of what he would do. He could call upon lightning with his Reimancy and conceal it as part of the storm. No. It was impossible to know how many bystanders there would be. While it was very likely that even the street urchins and beggars had taken to shelter in the taverns for the night, one could never guarantee that the streets of Sunberth would be empty. So, publicly using magic in such an unsubtle way was still out of the equation.

Which left using a blade and spilling the man’s blood. From the way Narim dressed, and how he walked through the streets alone, Kynier suspected that he was not just another Daggerhand brother. If he was even a Big Sibling, that meant that he was a skilled combatant. Kynier cursed himself anew about the possibility. If it were true, then he had given a skilled fighter his own weapon of choice to have before an altercation with them. His best hope was to retrieve his weapon back so that he could have both his primary weapons again. Narim did not appear to carry any weapons over than the cold iron short sword. Thusly, he probably had several daggers concealed on his body.

The Benshiran took a ferry to cross the river. Kynier quickly ran down to the next available ferry that he could find. Auristics still informed him of where his prey was. Though, it was growing faint. Kynier did not know what the range of his Auristic senses and focus was and didn’t want to test it out tonight. He hardened his focus as he passed some coin to a ferry man to take him across the river as well.



NaNo Post: 1,219
Total Word Count: 2,326

Boxcode credit goes to Gossamer!

[Kynier]

When the ferry touched the other side of the river, Kynier leapt off it and headed towards the aura that he still held his focus on. The sense of direction was weak and difficult to grasp, even as he ran towards it. The ground was covered in running water as the storm drenched the land. The dampness of his clothes made running noticeably more difficult, but he pushed through it as to not lose the trail of the man he needed to kill. Every step created loud splashes of water as he ran through the streets. The presence of the aura was drawing closer.

While distance to the aura he was focusing on was something he had not developed a sense for, Kynier felt that he was getting close again. The running had almost distracted him from his surroundings. With a quick assessment, the mage was able to determine that he was at the edge of the Rotten Ruins district. Narim was further ahead, he believed, going deeper into the district. Where was the man going? The only other place to go further north was the Riverside Isle Park… which was… shyke. Kynier kept pushing himself to run. Lungs were beginning to burn and his breath was coming out in trails of mist. After several more chimes, he was able to see a cloaked figure walking through the abandoned street of the abandoned district.

Kynier slowed himself down and forced his breathing to be quiet. For a mile he followed behind at a steady walk. He tried to pace himself to gradually close the remaining distance between the two of them. But not before he caught his breath again. It would be here, Kynier decided. The streets were abandoned, and Kynier needed to engage the man before they got closer to the Daggerhand headquarters. Silently, he drew Glister from its sheath as he stalked closer. Try as he might, he couldn’t completely neutralize the sound of his footsteps through the streams of water coursing through the street. But he did try.

Not long ago, Kynier experienced that it was a bad idea to have Auristics active when planning to harm the one whose aura he was focused on. With a slow blink, he ceased drawing on his Djed and his Sight closed. The fogginess of the storm’s aura faded and it was easier to see ironically. Kynier drew near and brought the cold iron blade behind his head, intending to cut at the man’s neck. When he stepped forward with his cut, Narim ducked below the attack and pivoted around while putting distance between the two of them.

The Benshiran drew Kynier’s weapon from his hip and spun the weapon around his hand once in a flourish. The man was smiling as he looked at the mage. “You should have worked on moving more quietly, friend. And in your next life, you should do better to conceal your murderous intentions.” Narim stepped forward and attacked with the cold iron blade. Kynier gave ground while performing crescent steps that pulled up back and out of range of the attacks. A few times, he tried to cut at the Benhiran’s arm only to miss. The Daggerhand’s reactions were quick and so were his recoveries from his attacks. Kynier changed tactics and ducked low under a sweeping cut that came at his midriff. As he ducked low, he cut up at the arm that was holding the weapon.

Narim cried out in pain as the blade cut into the man’s arm. The cut was shallow, but the Daggerhand still dropped the cold iron weapon to the ground. Kynier reached out and grabbed it hastily. By the time he was standing upright again, Narim was holding two daggers that he hadn’t heard being drawn. A bolt of lightning struck close by with a loud crack and a flash of light. Narim was gazing hard at Kynier’s concealed face. “Is that you, Hashimer?” he said slightly bemused. “If the weapon had meant that much to you, then you shouldn’t have gambled with it.”

This time it was Kynier that pressed the attack. He swung his blades one at a time in what seemed to be wide, slow arcs. For the Benshiran danced around the attacks effortlessly it seemed. Occasionally, he lunged and made a swiping strike at Kynier who was able to just barely leap back to avoid getting cut. Watching the man’s face as lightning and thunder danced around them, Narim appeared amused. The man was very skilled. The only wound he had been able to place was due to the man trying to use a weapon he clearly was not accustomed to.

Their dance of blades continued on. One attacking at an opening only to barely miss. Glister’s color changing blade would sometimes distract the mage’s adversary, but never enough to get a clean cut on the man. Kynier’s shoulders were growing tired from attacking and hitting nothing. That did not stop him from making another lunging thrust with a short sword. Narim pivoted around the attack and Kynier felt a cut across the side of his leg. He cried out in surprise as he stumbled into the puddles of the street. From behind him, he could hear the other man laughing. When Kynier tried to stand up the leg buckled under his weight.

The pain from trying to bear his weight was more extreme than the pain of getting cut. Muscles in his leg had been sheered and he was forced to hobble on the other. With his ability to move freely taken away, it did not look as though a favorable outcome was in store. Narim stepped in and slashed for Kynier’s throat. The mage took one hobbled step and brought a short sword up to cut at the attacking forearm. The blade bit into flesh and Kynier brought it down. Cold iron hooked into the limb and the hand released the dagger. Kynier made a thrust but he Benshiran stepped back to avoid. From a distance, Narim made a quick gesture with his good arm and Kynier felt a blade sink itself into his previously uninjured leg.

Kynier fell over, unable to stand on either leg. Glister fell from his hand as the hand opened up to keep him off the ground. The dagger’s blade had buried itself deep into his thigh. Blood was not pouring from it quickly, so it had not hit a vital area. But it cut the inside of his leg with each attempt he made to move it. As Kynier looked back up at his opponent a foot connected with the side of his face. He was sent on his back into the ever-growing puddle from the storm. Before he got back up, a foot stomped on the wrist that still held a weapon. Nari leaned over and struck Kynier across the face with a fist. Kynier twisted with the impact and exchanged hands with his weapon.

Looking back up, he cut at Narim’s head but missed. The Daggerhand had stood up to avoid the attack. Another dagger appeared in the man’s hand, seemingly from nowhere, and stabbed down at Kynier’s torso. The blade bit into his chest but failed to penetrate his sternum. Kynier groaned as he dropped his weapon and used his new free hand grasped the wrist holding the dagger. He pushed it away the dagger came out of his chest. Narim stumbled back a few steps before regaining his balance. The Benshiran started to laugh.



NaNo Post: 1,254
Total Word Count: 3,580

Boxcode credit goes to Gossamer!

[Kynier]

“It was well fought, Mr. Hashimer, but you seem to have underestimated my skill.” Narim sauntered over and kicked the cold iron short sword out of Kynier’s reach. Then he stomped down on the mage’s wrist again to pin an arm. Kynier was panting and trying to see through the curtain of rain that was falling into his eyes. “That is, if you are in fact Hashimer.” Narim knelt down and clawed at Kynier’s face, expecting to find a mask to pull away. Instead, his fingers dug at the skin of Kynier’s face. The shield weave still kept the lower half of his face concealed with an utter absence of light. “What?”

Kynier was trying to slap away the man’s hand. It was futile. The man did pull the hood of his cloak back. Wet hair matted to his face, but it was enough to give away his identity it seemed. “Yes, I was certain it was you. Before you die, you’re going to tell me what it was you sought to kill me.” Narim knelt down and dragged the dagger’s edge down the forearm that Kynier raised in defense. The mage clenched his teeth with a groan as the skin of his arm was parted violently. It seemed that the forearm was Narim’s intention. The man did not try to get around it, but instead made cut after cut on his arm.

“Tell me!” He said with another cut. Kynier waved his arm in an effort to grab at the attacking hand. By the fourth cut he managed to get a hold and pulled down on Narim’s arm to drag the man to the ground as well. The man did not fall but stumbled over him, which took his foot off Kynier’s wrist. The mage rolled onto his side and crawled towards Glister, which was half sunk into a puddle. Something stomped on his ankle and made it twist uncomfortably. Kynier nearly buried his face in a puddle as he shouted in pain. It was pointless. He couldn’t stand, and he couldn’t reach a weapon to defend himself.

Narim grabbed his shoulder and rolled him onto his back again, sitting on top of him with the tip of his dagger floating above Kynier’s face. Kynier’s eyes locked onto that weapon’s tip. Was this how it was going to end for him? His brow drew together in determination. No. There was more he could do. The time for last resorts had probably already passed. Mentally, he went inward to conjure his Djed. “I guess,” Narim said a bit breathlessly, “we just have to live without knowing a few answers. Hmm?”

As the dagger started to move, Kynier spoke loudly. “What do you want to know?” Narim was thrown off by the question. Staring down at him disbelievingly. Good. The Djed was coming to the surface of his body and Kynier directed it down towards his right hand, which he let fall to the side, so it was out of Narim’s focus. Res formed as a gas and emanated from his fingers.

“I want to know why it was you wanted to kill me.” Kynier willed the res to come around to the back of the Benshiran. The heavy rain was making it difficult to have it collect in any one location.

“I didn’t want to kill you. It was Ashara,” the name caused Narim’s eyes to go wide. “She’s the one that wants you dead.” Narim was silent for a moment. From the look in his eyes, the man was piecing together a puzzle only he was aware of.

“Then she’s going to try,” the man said more to himself. Then he looked down at Kynier with a bit of a smile. “Thank you, Mr. Hashimer. That is very good to know.” Kynier could see the movement before it happened. His throat was about to be slit, but he wasn’t going to just allow it. There was a collection of res on the man’s back. Kynier focused his will on it as he sought to create Air and ignite it with Fire. Lightning! But he wasn’t going to form it. No, Kynier willed the concept of attraction to his lightning. Kynier closed his eyes as several bolts of lightning came down from the sky to strike the Benshiran. Bright flashes of light were nearly blinding, and the cracks of instant thunder caused his ears to ring.

Whether there was a scream, he could not tell. In an instant the man sitting on him had been fried and his skin was charred black in the holes of his clothes. The body slumped over on the ground with a splash. Kynier set his head on the ground and took several deep breaths of relief. Ears were still ringing loudly enough to make the sounds of his groans a muffled echo. After a moment he looked around for his cold iron short sword. The nameless one that had the ability to heal his wounds. The mage crawled over to it and grasped it tightly. Wrapping the fingers of his other hand around the dagger that was still in his leg, Kynier took several breaths in preparation.

With a sudden yank, he pulled the dagger out of his leg, groaning as he did. Then he started speaking the prolonged speech of Tukant. “I’ll Die Tomorrow.” The weapon glowed a pure white color as the healing energies surged through his body. Kynier willed it to his leg that had been pierced deeply. The weapon’s healing magic knitted together the muscle and tissue before closing the wound. After a chime, it looked as though the leg had never been injured.

Slowly, he stood up before hobbling around to gather Glister from the deeper puddle it had been kicked to. Sheathing his weapons, he limped back over to the dead Daggerhand. Kneeling by the body, Kynier searched through the possessions that he had been carrying. Inside the man’s pack were several pouches. When he gripped them in his hand, Kynier could feel that they were all full of coins. Was it the man’s winnings? Kynier took all of them and added them to his own pack. Then he called on his Djed again to use Auristics. When his Sight was open, he looked at what the man was wearing. He had said that the ring had magic imbued in it. But as he gazed at it with his sight, Kynier could see that the gold and ruby ring had no powers infused to it.

“Petching son of a Khur-va!” he shouted as he punched the corpse once in frustration. The ring may still be valuable, so he added it to his pack as well. But nothing the man had on him had magic. Kynier closed his eyes and his sight. Something caused the wet hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end. He gazed around him only to see nothing and no one. Deciding that he did not want to stay around any longer, Kynier got up and started limping his way back home. His welcome was not going to be very warm, especially since he was going to be calling in on Ebon first.



NaNo Post: 1,201
Total Word Count: 4,781

Boxcode credit goes to Gossamer!

[Kynier]

The petching storm had begun to come down harder. Bones that were all ready soaked and cold were refreshed with the sensation as cold wind tore through her cloak. How the man hiding by the other stone pillar was able to tolerate standing in such a storm was beyond her. Ashara wanted to return to the Park and sit down by a fire. Find one of the younger recruits and take them to her chambers. Get them to bring warmth back into her body. She sighed slightly at the pleasant thought of pressing herself against a warm body. It was a momentary distraction from standing in the petching rain, watching her pet stand around and wait for Narim to come out for the night.

Sebastaian had insisted that he take the responsibility. The man could be very persistent, but this was something that she needed to do herself. The other Daggerhand brothers and sisters she had sent to tail the man had failed her by getting noticed. Seb was a cut above the rest, and he should be given the time she had invested in his abilities, but he still wasn’t as good as she was. And this was too important to be left to less capable hands. The hazel eyed man had never noticed that she’d been following him since Stumble Alley.

It was more interesting that she suspected. She thought the man would cling to the shadows and observe. Instead, he dressed up to walk in and sit down at Narim’s table. The surprise of that action still hadn’t settled. It made her reconsider the man’s uses. How he had been able to accomplish the tasks she had given him, was part of the mystery she wanted to unravel. The others had failed to learn how the man did it. How he had set the entire plantation ablaze and the Night Eyes, the petching Night Eyes, had no idea who it was. They claim to have never seen anyone that night.

Testing him further, she had him go after the shipment to the Sun’s Birth. While there was another plan to steal the Warmarshal’s special book, one much longer that would have cost her a lot of miza and favors to use, she had the strangely competent man try to rob the shipment from a squad of Dragoons. And the man had done it! Those that had been tailing him that day said he had gotten some help to do it. That the two of them managed to steal the entire shipment by themselves. Ashara shook her head in disbelief.

But as useful as the man was, he was becoming a liability. So, this was to be the last one.

There was a flash of lightning and Ashara took cover behind the pillar because the made was looking around. She held still to the pillar and counted the ticks. It was torturous trying to not move when the body desperately desired to shiver. But she held to and waited a few chimes before peeking out again with her Svefran blue eyes. She noticed Narim walk by and after a moment, so did the other man. Ashara followed behind by not far. The rain was so thick it was difficult to see very far in front of yourself. The man’s attention was most likely soley focused on Narim, which would make following him easier.

And it was easy. That is until they were crossing the river. The man ran ahead to grab a ferry to follow Narim. Ashara did not give chase. She knew Narim’s patterns and the paths he took. He was heading back to headquarters and was going to take his usual path through the Rotten Ruins to get there. So, she calmly walked on to the next ferry man to cross the river. When getting to the other side, she gave the man a smile and a kiss on his wet cheek as thanks before taking her own path through the Rotten Ruins that would cut off Narim’s.

She stepped out of an alley and found them. The two men were engaged in battle already. Damn, she missed the start. She always hated being late to a show. That reminded her, she needed to make arrangements to get reservations for the next musical routine at the Scarlet Sanctum. Javier was set to play, and she wanted to know what the man had learned about that little side project of hers. Ashara brought her attention back to the fight. For a time it appeared to be fairly evenly matched. But then Narim got the upper hand by taking out the leg.

She sighed in displeasure. Perhaps the man had simply been lucky all along. That was disappointing. She drew one of her throwing daggers in preparation for what was going to happen. The man was being beaten and cut on the ground. Narim was demanding something, as he always was. It looked as though it was finally going to come to an end as Narim sat on the other man. Ashara twirled the dagger around in her fingers as she focused on the other Big Sibling’s back. Then she saw something strange through the rain on Narim’s back.

“What…?”

Lightning came from the sky and struck Narim. Not a single both either. The bright flash and loud crack of thunder startled Ashara. When it passed, she was looking at the two of them in utter amazement. Narim fell over. Dead. The other man pushed the body off him and continued to crawl around. “Mage,” she whispered to herself. She raised the dagger above her head and took aim at the mage. He turned his back and she began to twist her hips to begin the throw… when she suddenly stopped. The man was a mage. That was how he was getting all her tasks done. He wasn’t the greatest fighter it seemed. But he still pulled through.

She smiled and lowered the dagger back into the brace at her thigh. She turned and took her own path to the Park. The man was a mage, and only she knew. There was a lot that she wanted that seemed impossible to have before. With that man’s “assistance” it may be possible now. And at the idea of having a pet mage only made her smile even more.



NaNo Post: 1,059
Total Word Count: 5,840

Boxcode credit goes to Gossamer!

[Kynier]

Grades!

Skill Rewards

• Acrobatics +1
• Acting +1
• Auristics +1
• Detection +1
• Disguise +1
• Duel Wield +2
• Endurance +1
• Logic +3
• Planning +2
• Reimancy +1
• Rhetoric +1
• Running +1
• Shielding +1
• Stealth +2
• Subterfuge +1
• Weapon: Short Sword +2

Lores Learned

• Auristic: Tracking an aura from a distance
• Disguise: Concealing the face to hide
• Reimancy: Attracting Lightning in a thunderstorm
• Self: The cold iron short sword with healing properties has more sentimental value than he realized
• Self: Lore of Narim Avuel’s death
• Shielding: Creating a weave to block light on the face for a disguise
• Stealth: Hiding in the rain

Rewards

• +1,100 gm
• +1 Gold Ring with Ruby

Penalties

• Moderate Wound - Multiple lacerations on left forearm. Will take 20 days to heal naturally and leave a scar.
• Moderate Wound - Lacerated leg. Will have a limp for 10 days and take 25 days to heal without magical assistance.