35th of Ashan 719, 11am~
Fridgar had returned to Quacia that morning, and like all mornings, they waited for Rhostus at the beach. They waited, and waited, and waited. Breaks went by but they saw no head, nor tail of the old man. And as much as they enjoyed sitting on the sand and meditating the trial away, they couldn't help but feel as though something was off. So, they took to the skies as a Sohr Khal and followed the source of his scent, which they had taken care to note on a prior trial. They'd never been to Rhostus's house before, and their flight took them to The gleam, a district that was notably quite close to Lair. With their limited vision, the landing was a struggle, but they managed with a little more attention and effort.
They stood before a rather small stone building, complete with a sloped roof with tiles, two stories, and windows. They looked upon the structure, though most of it appeared only as a blurred, messy seamless shape of varying colors. The beast exhaled through their nose; a lungful of Rhostus's scent, then began to transform into the shape fo the Lothar as they walked toward the front of the building. Like fluid, they quickly changed shape and size, then settled in the form that they had been born in. Fridgar, the Lotharro. While they were somewhat confused as of why Rhostus hadn't turned up to train them, they were more annoyed that the old man had neglected to teach them anything new in so long. So, with a frustrated sigh, they lifted their rune-laced hand in a balled fist to the stone door and knocked hard.
A dozen trills of silence followed without an answer, and Fridgar gripped the handle with their large hand and twisted the knob... the door opened. They paused at the revelation, then drew the rune of touch into their palm and ducked before they pushed their way into the house. A sole draw of breath from their nose revealed that the air here smelled of sickness. They'd known that Rhostus' health had been declining, but had it really gotten that bad? With a slight slouch and a ducked head, they made their way through the halls and ran their touch-enhanced fingers along the wall. They were using their arm runes to feel for vibrations, searching for movement for some sort. A sign that Rhostus was up and about, then they felt his heartbeat... In the next room, resting... on the floor.
Fridgar appeared in the doorway and turned their head to the source of the beating heart. "Rhostus?" Fridgar asked as they stepped in and kneeled before the old man. "...Kid?" The older Lothar's voice came, tired and weak. "...What in Thetros' name are you wearing?" He asked. Of course, Fridgar had yet to remove their war clothes from their endeavors in Helice. Seeing as they were constantly blindfolded, they often times forgot about what they'd last been wearing in their lotharro form. 'It's just something we put together out of a Feldorei pelt, along with all our totems," Fridgar clarified, then extended their arm to aid the old man. Part of them wanted to ask why he hadn't been around to teach them, demand his excuse, but the answer was obvious. He'd fallen somehow, perhaps run out of medicine or failed to take it in time.
Rhostus took their hand with a weak grip, and they took the whole of his arm and carefully lifted him off the floor. The old man grunted and scrambled to take his weight with his own two feet, then they helped him toward whatever direction he pleased, which ended up being toward his chair. Carefully, they eased him into it and set him down. While his body rested upright, the old man began to sputter and cough and the breaths he drew were ragged and broken. Fridgar stayed silent until the man came to a halt, then spoke abruptly. "What happened?" Their tone was flat, merciless. Rhostus snickered, then coughed again and cleared his throat. "I'm a bit out of shape," he said, and Fridgar snarled a threat. This wasn't the time for jokes.
Rhostus was still for a moment while he looked upon the Lothar, then sighed. "I'm sick kid, ain't it obvious?" He coughed promptly after he finished his sentence, and Fridgar rolled their eyes beneath their blindfold, the blindfold that Rhostus had given them, then spoke with false sympathy. "...How can we help?" The old man laid his head back and simply breathed for a few minutes. Fridgar grew impatient but said nothing. This was a waste of their time, they had runes to learn. Finally, the old man lifted his finger toward a specific direction, and their sixth sense of motion gave them a vague idea of where. Fridgar turned and walked toward the table in the corner of the room as Rhsotus spoke. "My flask," he said, and Fridgar obliged. Once they were at the table, they ran their fingers along the surface and tested the vibrations for all the items stored upon it. Once they found a flask-like object, they collected it and brought it to the old man.
Quite quickly, he unscrewed the cap and downed the contents. The old man grimaced a little at the taste, then coughed again while he screwed on the cap. For the first time since they got there, he covered his mouth with a cupped hand and then coughed again. Fridgar remained silent through the ordeal, Rhostus handed them the flask, and they took it. "Thanks, kid," the old man said quietly. Fridgar shook their head, "it's fine," they said, even though they felt that they'd wasted a lot of time coming here and for what? Nothing of use to them. Fridgar returned the flask to its stand, then looked to Rhostus again. "If this is going to become a frequent thing..." Rhostus snored. Fridgar pursed their lips and seethed in silence. Had he really just fallen asleep? After they'd gone all the way out there to help him? Hell no.
While the old man slept, they ran their fingers along the table and felt through the vibrations. Through that method of sense, they discovered Rhostus' jacket, which they'd seen him collect his grimoire for on a number of occasions. Perhaps this journey hadn't been a waste after all? Fridgar dug through the pockets without pause and found some scraps of paper, some gold nel, some pieces of straw... and his grimoire. Without pause, they drew their own grimoire from their domain bag and lowered their blindfold. They squinted at the pages with their strained eyes and began to read through Rhostus's handwriting. They read through pages of runes that they already knew, like the runes of savoring, strength, endurance, touch... Along with plenty of lucis runes, like regeneration and ether sight. But then came some core runes that they didn't recognize. Fridgar smiled, for they had found what they wanted.
One by one, they began to copy the runes along with their names into their own grimoire; rune of sight, rune of sound, and the rune of speed. The rune of speed? That rune was a favorite of Rhostus' and they saw him use it frequently. They cast the old man a glance, but only saw the general shape of his sleeping form beneath the blur of their eyes. They exhaled, then looked back to the page of their own grimoire, then closed rhostus' and left it on the table without care. They were done, they had what they wanted. When they had the image of the rune of speed memorized, they closed their own grimoire and stowed it in their bag. They lifted their blindfold back over their eyes, then looked to Rhostus one last time before they made their way out of the building, then closed the door behind them.
Some part of them deep within felt terrible for leaving the old man alone, but that small part of them was dried out in an empathic draught. The rest of them wanted to try out some of these new runes and what they could do. They'd seen the rune of speed in action before many times, and now they had the opportunity to put it to work. A sinister smile crept across their face as they began to change, then reassumed the Shape of the Sohr Khal of platinum feathers, then reached to their chest and activated a rune of speed with naught but a press of their talon. Then, they cast diffuse and spread the effects of the rune to their whole body while massively decreasing its power in each limb. Overall, the rune made them perhaps twice as fast, but for a Sohr Khal, that was still incredibly fast.
Learning runes was once an endeavor that took them breaks to complete, even longer If they did so alone with meditation, but just like that, they could look at the rune, read its contents, then apply them with ease. Fridgar had truly mastered the discipline of the Runewright. Without another thought, they spread their wings, then took to the skies with a hard beat of their massive appendages. Their whole body moved with incredible quickness, and they quite quickly took off, then soared through the air at alarming, unnatural speeds.
Fridgar had returned to Quacia that morning, and like all mornings, they waited for Rhostus at the beach. They waited, and waited, and waited. Breaks went by but they saw no head, nor tail of the old man. And as much as they enjoyed sitting on the sand and meditating the trial away, they couldn't help but feel as though something was off. So, they took to the skies as a Sohr Khal and followed the source of his scent, which they had taken care to note on a prior trial. They'd never been to Rhostus's house before, and their flight took them to The gleam, a district that was notably quite close to Lair. With their limited vision, the landing was a struggle, but they managed with a little more attention and effort.
They stood before a rather small stone building, complete with a sloped roof with tiles, two stories, and windows. They looked upon the structure, though most of it appeared only as a blurred, messy seamless shape of varying colors. The beast exhaled through their nose; a lungful of Rhostus's scent, then began to transform into the shape fo the Lothar as they walked toward the front of the building. Like fluid, they quickly changed shape and size, then settled in the form that they had been born in. Fridgar, the Lotharro. While they were somewhat confused as of why Rhostus hadn't turned up to train them, they were more annoyed that the old man had neglected to teach them anything new in so long. So, with a frustrated sigh, they lifted their rune-laced hand in a balled fist to the stone door and knocked hard.
A dozen trills of silence followed without an answer, and Fridgar gripped the handle with their large hand and twisted the knob... the door opened. They paused at the revelation, then drew the rune of touch into their palm and ducked before they pushed their way into the house. A sole draw of breath from their nose revealed that the air here smelled of sickness. They'd known that Rhostus' health had been declining, but had it really gotten that bad? With a slight slouch and a ducked head, they made their way through the halls and ran their touch-enhanced fingers along the wall. They were using their arm runes to feel for vibrations, searching for movement for some sort. A sign that Rhostus was up and about, then they felt his heartbeat... In the next room, resting... on the floor.
Fridgar appeared in the doorway and turned their head to the source of the beating heart. "Rhostus?" Fridgar asked as they stepped in and kneeled before the old man. "...Kid?" The older Lothar's voice came, tired and weak. "...What in Thetros' name are you wearing?" He asked. Of course, Fridgar had yet to remove their war clothes from their endeavors in Helice. Seeing as they were constantly blindfolded, they often times forgot about what they'd last been wearing in their lotharro form. 'It's just something we put together out of a Feldorei pelt, along with all our totems," Fridgar clarified, then extended their arm to aid the old man. Part of them wanted to ask why he hadn't been around to teach them, demand his excuse, but the answer was obvious. He'd fallen somehow, perhaps run out of medicine or failed to take it in time.
Rhostus took their hand with a weak grip, and they took the whole of his arm and carefully lifted him off the floor. The old man grunted and scrambled to take his weight with his own two feet, then they helped him toward whatever direction he pleased, which ended up being toward his chair. Carefully, they eased him into it and set him down. While his body rested upright, the old man began to sputter and cough and the breaths he drew were ragged and broken. Fridgar stayed silent until the man came to a halt, then spoke abruptly. "What happened?" Their tone was flat, merciless. Rhostus snickered, then coughed again and cleared his throat. "I'm a bit out of shape," he said, and Fridgar snarled a threat. This wasn't the time for jokes.
Rhostus was still for a moment while he looked upon the Lothar, then sighed. "I'm sick kid, ain't it obvious?" He coughed promptly after he finished his sentence, and Fridgar rolled their eyes beneath their blindfold, the blindfold that Rhostus had given them, then spoke with false sympathy. "...How can we help?" The old man laid his head back and simply breathed for a few minutes. Fridgar grew impatient but said nothing. This was a waste of their time, they had runes to learn. Finally, the old man lifted his finger toward a specific direction, and their sixth sense of motion gave them a vague idea of where. Fridgar turned and walked toward the table in the corner of the room as Rhsotus spoke. "My flask," he said, and Fridgar obliged. Once they were at the table, they ran their fingers along the surface and tested the vibrations for all the items stored upon it. Once they found a flask-like object, they collected it and brought it to the old man.
Quite quickly, he unscrewed the cap and downed the contents. The old man grimaced a little at the taste, then coughed again while he screwed on the cap. For the first time since they got there, he covered his mouth with a cupped hand and then coughed again. Fridgar remained silent through the ordeal, Rhostus handed them the flask, and they took it. "Thanks, kid," the old man said quietly. Fridgar shook their head, "it's fine," they said, even though they felt that they'd wasted a lot of time coming here and for what? Nothing of use to them. Fridgar returned the flask to its stand, then looked to Rhostus again. "If this is going to become a frequent thing..." Rhostus snored. Fridgar pursed their lips and seethed in silence. Had he really just fallen asleep? After they'd gone all the way out there to help him? Hell no.
While the old man slept, they ran their fingers along the table and felt through the vibrations. Through that method of sense, they discovered Rhostus' jacket, which they'd seen him collect his grimoire for on a number of occasions. Perhaps this journey hadn't been a waste after all? Fridgar dug through the pockets without pause and found some scraps of paper, some gold nel, some pieces of straw... and his grimoire. Without pause, they drew their own grimoire from their domain bag and lowered their blindfold. They squinted at the pages with their strained eyes and began to read through Rhostus's handwriting. They read through pages of runes that they already knew, like the runes of savoring, strength, endurance, touch... Along with plenty of lucis runes, like regeneration and ether sight. But then came some core runes that they didn't recognize. Fridgar smiled, for they had found what they wanted.
One by one, they began to copy the runes along with their names into their own grimoire; rune of sight, rune of sound, and the rune of speed. The rune of speed? That rune was a favorite of Rhostus' and they saw him use it frequently. They cast the old man a glance, but only saw the general shape of his sleeping form beneath the blur of their eyes. They exhaled, then looked back to the page of their own grimoire, then closed rhostus' and left it on the table without care. They were done, they had what they wanted. When they had the image of the rune of speed memorized, they closed their own grimoire and stowed it in their bag. They lifted their blindfold back over their eyes, then looked to Rhostus one last time before they made their way out of the building, then closed the door behind them.
Some part of them deep within felt terrible for leaving the old man alone, but that small part of them was dried out in an empathic draught. The rest of them wanted to try out some of these new runes and what they could do. They'd seen the rune of speed in action before many times, and now they had the opportunity to put it to work. A sinister smile crept across their face as they began to change, then reassumed the Shape of the Sohr Khal of platinum feathers, then reached to their chest and activated a rune of speed with naught but a press of their talon. Then, they cast diffuse and spread the effects of the rune to their whole body while massively decreasing its power in each limb. Overall, the rune made them perhaps twice as fast, but for a Sohr Khal, that was still incredibly fast.
Learning runes was once an endeavor that took them breaks to complete, even longer If they did so alone with meditation, but just like that, they could look at the rune, read its contents, then apply them with ease. Fridgar had truly mastered the discipline of the Runewright. Without another thought, they spread their wings, then took to the skies with a hard beat of their massive appendages. Their whole body moved with incredible quickness, and they quite quickly took off, then soared through the air at alarming, unnatural speeds.
