Preparation
Posted: Fri Nov 27, 2020 4:56 pm
48th Vhalar, 720
Varlum had let himself slack.
Every time he spent time with Elisabeth there was a sense of relief and comfort, a feeling of care he hadn't taken in a long time. All the death he had faced, all the hostilities and enemies, all of it faded into nothing but a memory. Every doubt and fear he had was nothing. It was relaxation, it was time for him to rest and recover. But it wasn't good enough if he was going to beat this war. He'd let himself relax too long, too many trials spent without enough training. Their night together had been nice a few nights ago, his mind calmed by it. Yet there was a doubt. A nagging feeling in his head, as if every time he left the fight it was pulling him right back to it. He had to focus, had to get on with all the training he could muster. Fighting was good, learning a shield was hard but could come in handy, though he already doubted how useful it would truly be for him. But his Defiance was what mattered. His pull to the Elements had come in handy more than once, from clearing dust to allow people to breathe to manipulating flames and Earth to protect himself.
Rather than train in Storm's Edge Varlum made his way to a small part of the Stormwastes close by, telling the Knights on the wall where he'd be and making sure he was in eyesight distance of them should anything happen. It was late and dark, but that was intentional. Less people traveling in and out meant fewer people to disturb him when he needed to focus. So he went where it was quiet while nobody was around and he paused, kneeling down for a moment with a hand on the Earth. He focused on breathing for just a trill. Now he pushed himself. Now he tried new things, practiced techniques he had never thought of before. It was the time to push himself beyond the limits he thought he had. After another few minutes of resting, Varlum stood up, muttering quietly. "Come on. Now more than ever. Let's do this" he whispered to the Elements around him, never really speaking to them before.
Then he wrapped himself in Earth, allowing the Embrace to empower him. He repeated what he'd done in the caverns, melding with the Earth, but this time he took notes from Prae. The man had used it for more than just slow movements - he used it for fast mobility. Varlum wasn't going to be bursting out of the ground in style any time soon, but what if he didn't need to. Prae had his own style, Varlum had his. With the ability to Meld, especially while he increased his height, he could catch enemies off guard with large and heavy blows. He could tackle things at a high speed, throw himself into danger and knock down anything he hit, like a giant beast pouncing its prey. It was who he was, after all. The Mortalborn of Ferocity and Violence. Why not play to the strengths, play into the Soul of a Dragon inside him and use it to his advantage?
While he couldn't test anything while he was big without paralyzing himself for two hours in the Wastes there was a power he didn't find himself reaching to enough. One that made a lot more sense now that he knew the Ithecal's heritage. Soul of Dragons. Golden scales coating him, sharp claws giving him strength and power. If he knew how to fight better with his hands he'd be near-unstoppable. Right now he had no way of learning to fight with claws rather than blades, no real way of training it. But he could use the power, he could test the combinations. While Varlum wasn't a tactician he knew that his method of fighting was risky at best, standing in front of the enemy and swinging blindly. But with training and practice, while still letting his ferocity dominate how he fought, he could protect more people. He could kill whatever enemies were out in the wastes.
As the Soul of Dragons wrapped around his body he adjusted to the weight of the new layer of stone around him. It wasn't hard to do, his strength and endurance were high enough he could sustain them, but the weight still took some time to get used to. Each hit felt heavier, every step needed a little more power. That much was only true for walking, though, and Melding was an entirely different story. He could keep his momentum far easier on the ground. Testing that theory, Varlum melded into the Earth and moved at a high speed, practicing basic movement more than anything else. It was a weird sensation, sinking into solid stone and emerging, knowing full well that you were under the ground. But it was comforting. Being surrounded by his kin element, moving freely through it, more than he could move normally. After a few minutes of moving around, he decided to try something new. His golden scales came with wings, allowing him flight. It wasn't something Varlum could do easily, he'd never flown before, but it wasn't like he planned on taking flight to the sky. Something more simple.
With full speed Varlum left the Earth, using his wings to push himself further as he left. He imagined a target, an enemy of some kind beneath him and he created fire in his mouth, breathing it down onto the imaginary target before letting himself plummet into the ground, returning to the melded state. His heart raced a little from the jump, realizing that taking off was uncomfortable for him, yet it would get easier. It would never be easy to throw himself through the air like that on the first attempt. Even when he was used to it he imagined there'd be some level of adrenaline to it. If Ithecals were meant to fly they'd have been born with wings. Then again, if they originated from Dragon's why didn't they have wings? He'd hold that thought for another time.
Varlum attempted the same move over and over again, throwing himself through the air and using different elements to try and vary it. Dropping a heavy force of water onto the ground, launching a small and sharp rock at someone, flaming them to death or using a simple blast of wind to knock them to the floor. Then he tried leaving the ground and pushing forward with his wings, rather than launching upwards. Using the momentum to fly at something and take it down with brute strength rather than wasting more Ether than he needed, slashing through something with his sharp stone claws and a boost to damage from the Dragon's Soul wrapped around him. While he had no real targets to practice on he could make do with memorizing the movement, familiarising himself with the feeling of pouncing at something with high speeds.
Being closer to the ground made the movement feel easier - as if the Earth was a safety blanket rather than a hard floor beneath him. Yet as Varlum kept pouncing, attempting to work on his technique, he started feeling the drain it was having on him. Long uses of an ability like this, at least at his level of Defiance, proved to be difficult. As he felt his head start to ache Varlum rose to the surface, stones dropping off him as knelt for a moment, hand on the ground and panting for breath, feeling dizzy and nauseous. "Shit..." he muttered, knowing how far he still had to go before he could truly use the Elements to fight alongside him. They worked well together, but there was more they could achieve. He knew it. He could feel it. His Spark craved for more and more every time he used it, wanting to be used and to evolve, reaching to the primal part of him and pulling at it.
Once he found his footing a little Varlum stood back up, walking himself to Storm's Edge, planning on returning the next day. Then the next. Every day he could he'd be out here, every night preparing for what was coming next. While Varlum didn't know it yet - he was traumatized. He'd seen war after war, battle after battle. Friends had watched the ghost of their loved ones fade, Necromancers had threatened the city, and big flaming creatures had attacked Varlum more frequently than bandits had. It was a lot - and no Immortal had intervened. In the city of Rharne, a city owned by an Immortal, not one had stepped in to help when innocents were dying and people were suffering. They felt alone in this. Varlum felt alone in this. Humans, Ithecal and every other race against a power they were not equipped to deal with.
With that bitter thought in his head Varlum returned to Storm's Edge to rest.
Every time he spent time with Elisabeth there was a sense of relief and comfort, a feeling of care he hadn't taken in a long time. All the death he had faced, all the hostilities and enemies, all of it faded into nothing but a memory. Every doubt and fear he had was nothing. It was relaxation, it was time for him to rest and recover. But it wasn't good enough if he was going to beat this war. He'd let himself relax too long, too many trials spent without enough training. Their night together had been nice a few nights ago, his mind calmed by it. Yet there was a doubt. A nagging feeling in his head, as if every time he left the fight it was pulling him right back to it. He had to focus, had to get on with all the training he could muster. Fighting was good, learning a shield was hard but could come in handy, though he already doubted how useful it would truly be for him. But his Defiance was what mattered. His pull to the Elements had come in handy more than once, from clearing dust to allow people to breathe to manipulating flames and Earth to protect himself.
Rather than train in Storm's Edge Varlum made his way to a small part of the Stormwastes close by, telling the Knights on the wall where he'd be and making sure he was in eyesight distance of them should anything happen. It was late and dark, but that was intentional. Less people traveling in and out meant fewer people to disturb him when he needed to focus. So he went where it was quiet while nobody was around and he paused, kneeling down for a moment with a hand on the Earth. He focused on breathing for just a trill. Now he pushed himself. Now he tried new things, practiced techniques he had never thought of before. It was the time to push himself beyond the limits he thought he had. After another few minutes of resting, Varlum stood up, muttering quietly. "Come on. Now more than ever. Let's do this" he whispered to the Elements around him, never really speaking to them before.
Then he wrapped himself in Earth, allowing the Embrace to empower him. He repeated what he'd done in the caverns, melding with the Earth, but this time he took notes from Prae. The man had used it for more than just slow movements - he used it for fast mobility. Varlum wasn't going to be bursting out of the ground in style any time soon, but what if he didn't need to. Prae had his own style, Varlum had his. With the ability to Meld, especially while he increased his height, he could catch enemies off guard with large and heavy blows. He could tackle things at a high speed, throw himself into danger and knock down anything he hit, like a giant beast pouncing its prey. It was who he was, after all. The Mortalborn of Ferocity and Violence. Why not play to the strengths, play into the Soul of a Dragon inside him and use it to his advantage?
While he couldn't test anything while he was big without paralyzing himself for two hours in the Wastes there was a power he didn't find himself reaching to enough. One that made a lot more sense now that he knew the Ithecal's heritage. Soul of Dragons. Golden scales coating him, sharp claws giving him strength and power. If he knew how to fight better with his hands he'd be near-unstoppable. Right now he had no way of learning to fight with claws rather than blades, no real way of training it. But he could use the power, he could test the combinations. While Varlum wasn't a tactician he knew that his method of fighting was risky at best, standing in front of the enemy and swinging blindly. But with training and practice, while still letting his ferocity dominate how he fought, he could protect more people. He could kill whatever enemies were out in the wastes.
As the Soul of Dragons wrapped around his body he adjusted to the weight of the new layer of stone around him. It wasn't hard to do, his strength and endurance were high enough he could sustain them, but the weight still took some time to get used to. Each hit felt heavier, every step needed a little more power. That much was only true for walking, though, and Melding was an entirely different story. He could keep his momentum far easier on the ground. Testing that theory, Varlum melded into the Earth and moved at a high speed, practicing basic movement more than anything else. It was a weird sensation, sinking into solid stone and emerging, knowing full well that you were under the ground. But it was comforting. Being surrounded by his kin element, moving freely through it, more than he could move normally. After a few minutes of moving around, he decided to try something new. His golden scales came with wings, allowing him flight. It wasn't something Varlum could do easily, he'd never flown before, but it wasn't like he planned on taking flight to the sky. Something more simple.
With full speed Varlum left the Earth, using his wings to push himself further as he left. He imagined a target, an enemy of some kind beneath him and he created fire in his mouth, breathing it down onto the imaginary target before letting himself plummet into the ground, returning to the melded state. His heart raced a little from the jump, realizing that taking off was uncomfortable for him, yet it would get easier. It would never be easy to throw himself through the air like that on the first attempt. Even when he was used to it he imagined there'd be some level of adrenaline to it. If Ithecals were meant to fly they'd have been born with wings. Then again, if they originated from Dragon's why didn't they have wings? He'd hold that thought for another time.
Varlum attempted the same move over and over again, throwing himself through the air and using different elements to try and vary it. Dropping a heavy force of water onto the ground, launching a small and sharp rock at someone, flaming them to death or using a simple blast of wind to knock them to the floor. Then he tried leaving the ground and pushing forward with his wings, rather than launching upwards. Using the momentum to fly at something and take it down with brute strength rather than wasting more Ether than he needed, slashing through something with his sharp stone claws and a boost to damage from the Dragon's Soul wrapped around him. While he had no real targets to practice on he could make do with memorizing the movement, familiarising himself with the feeling of pouncing at something with high speeds.
Being closer to the ground made the movement feel easier - as if the Earth was a safety blanket rather than a hard floor beneath him. Yet as Varlum kept pouncing, attempting to work on his technique, he started feeling the drain it was having on him. Long uses of an ability like this, at least at his level of Defiance, proved to be difficult. As he felt his head start to ache Varlum rose to the surface, stones dropping off him as knelt for a moment, hand on the ground and panting for breath, feeling dizzy and nauseous. "Shit..." he muttered, knowing how far he still had to go before he could truly use the Elements to fight alongside him. They worked well together, but there was more they could achieve. He knew it. He could feel it. His Spark craved for more and more every time he used it, wanting to be used and to evolve, reaching to the primal part of him and pulling at it.
Once he found his footing a little Varlum stood back up, walking himself to Storm's Edge, planning on returning the next day. Then the next. Every day he could he'd be out here, every night preparing for what was coming next. While Varlum didn't know it yet - he was traumatized. He'd seen war after war, battle after battle. Friends had watched the ghost of their loved ones fade, Necromancers had threatened the city, and big flaming creatures had attacked Varlum more frequently than bandits had. It was a lot - and no Immortal had intervened. In the city of Rharne, a city owned by an Immortal, not one had stepped in to help when innocents were dying and people were suffering. They felt alone in this. Varlum felt alone in this. Humans, Ithecal and every other race against a power they were not equipped to deal with.
With that bitter thought in his head Varlum returned to Storm's Edge to rest.
