Time of Day/Night: Morning
Weapons: Average+ Steel Saber
Armor: T4 Blood Metal
Injuries: None
Illness: Maybe a bit exhausted
Ether Exhaustion: Spark dormant
| ! | Message from: Kalortah |
Hey Victory, if you return and feel like continuing at some point, feel free to let me know. I'm gonna start wrapping this collab up as abandoned, otherwise. Hope to see you around sometime in the future  |
The Sev'ryn seemed to retreat from the scene from then, whether their departure by physical or more postural. Kalortah hadn't realized that his ability to intimidate a potential challenger had advanced to such a state. This was a new power he would have to consider carefully, lest it be misused.
So, heaving a shrug to himself as the Sev'ryn excused herself, Kal turned back toward his shadow, to take note of its movements in tandem with his own. He took up a new stance, where he hung the blade of his saber against his shoulders, just in front of his wings. He tested his arm then, bringing it forward in a curving arc in line with his shoulder. It took some effort at first to avoid slicing his wings off where the steel caught on the valance wings he was wearing.
He was up for the challenge, however. He began singing a tune as he practiced his swordsmanship, his tone modulating high then low, testing his range as he tested the strength of his sword arm against the weight of the weapon. The song wasn't anything special, just a generic battle hymn he'd learned from his father.
"We Avriel are strong and swift,
On iron wings, with razor talons."
He tested his blade against the air, timing it (as if he needed to) with the movement of his shadow on the ground. He could imagine an opponent countering his moves with footwork to take themselves out of range while maintaining capability of striking.
"With razor swords we fear not foe,
But take to the sky to herald doom."
He buffeted his wings against the air, unfolding them and then striking forward with the valance protected wing tip.
His wings opened, he took to the air, swiping with his saber to see how swiftly and strongly he could move it while on the air. As he followed through with each strike, his wings took him backward, creaking with the cobalt-forged valance scales.
"I will not fall before a lowborn slave,
But make them my own, through guile to reign."
The opponent he was imagining fighting against, rushed him as he flew backward on the wind. At that point, Kalortah curled his saber into a backward grip, and grappled the opponent, then flew straight upward and with a single release let go of the opponent. That would've sent them to break their neck on the ground, under most circumstances, unless the person in question was skilled in breaking their fall.
As a follow up maneuver, Kalortah dropped to the ground himself, gliding vertically with his saber held in reverse to stab downward. The blade was intended to pierce the heart of his fallen foe, who was intended to die from the fall, but when fighting a crafty ground-walker, one couldn't be too careful.
Kalortah rose from a kneeling position, switching his grip on the saber to an upward guard. He then rested the blade back against his shoulders once more, and thought about what exercises to move through next.
He'd done enough of the swordplay for a day. Now perhaps it was time to fly.
With a powerful buffet of his armored wings, he lifted himself directly into the air, and caught a gust that he spotted coming from above. The gust gave him the boost he needed to pick up more air, and find a way over the low rooves of the series of Yaralon huts that surrounded.
Yaralon was not a high-rising city. It was spread out, over an immense area, building wide rather than tall. This suited the city, Kalortah thought as he flew along. His eyes fell on the people below, wondering what menial tasks occupied their time.
Suddenly, Kal was tackled out of his flight path by a immense raptor. The monstrous eagle screed and tore with its beak against Kal's breastplate, thankfully it was equal to the task of protecting his vitals. He sheathed his saber quickly, and grappled with the great bird in midair.
They flew, end over end, in a spiral going down toward the ground. Kalortah was more concerned with getting this thing off of him, rather than righting himself for a drop to the ground, at least for the moment.
His gauntleted hands and sabatoned feet kicked and punched, clawed and wrung the bird. He was able to get a grip on the bird's neck, which he threw to the side, allowing him a moment to right himself on the air. It was a challenge with all the weight he was bearing while on the wing, but he was able to fix his trajectory, or at least reverse it from it's deadfall to the ground.
The bird he saw coming at him again, this time from below. Kalortah spun on his wings, doing a flipping kick with his armored foot against it's beak.
The creature seemed to call in pain, and then gave up, flying off to find easier prey.
Relieved that he wouldn't have to destroy one of Delroth's creatures, Kalortah slowly glided to the ground, back around where his rented dwelling could be found. He landed about a break's walk from home. After figuring out his position, he checked the damage to his self, and made his way home.
