Stepping Out and Stepping Up [Completed]

Loxiel, a young changeling, comes f age and leaves his home, the orphanage. In search of something greater, he goes off to try and find a mentor to help him realise his dream of becoming a hero!

In the heart of Ninraih's jungles, the Fae created the city of Ajteire, protected from the undead by the magic of fireflies and a pact with the Kerasoka. The complex network of trees, vines, and plants helps to keep unwanted visitors out. Read more...
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Mara Whitewood
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Disciple of Ristgir
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01
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Re: Stepping Out and Stepping Up

Post by Mara Whitewood »

A rustling sound was the only clue Mara had that indicated the other speaker moved in some way. It might be easy to assume he was pointing but she couldn't be sure. Outwardly, she didn't react except to incline her head a little, not even to tip her face up to his. In fact, she has probably been staring in the direction of his chest for some time now.

"I have heard that, too," she said, her smile deepening sufficiently to become more obvious.

"All right," she continued after a moment's consideration, "but under one condition." Mara lifted her free hand to hold her extended index finger aloft for emphasis. "I should be the one to pay for the first round. It is only fair as you have elected to cover the replacement fee of my needles."

The tone of her voice was not smug as much as matter-of-fact; she believed what she was saying readily enough. And, whether or not he agreed, she began to walk, staff swaying a few feet ahead of her just like before. No, she hadn't seen where he pointed, but she was passing familiar with the shop he referred to and her nose would lead her aright in any case.

While she walked, she spoke somewhat over her shoulder to them both. "I'm Mara. What may I call my generous benefactor and his companion?"
Word count: 230
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Loxiel
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Re: Stepping Out and Stepping Up

Post by Loxiel »

Loxiel was caught between awe at the company he suddenly found himself in, and the chest-bursting happiness at possessing his very own dagger! Sure, it wasn't some fancy, ornate, Elven blade, but it was a dagger and it was his.

His dark eyes flitted between the two. It is said that the longer a shifter spends in a certain animal form, they can sometimes take on some of the characteristics of that particular beast. For Loxiel, his movements were a little bird-like. His eyes flicked quickly here and there, his head flicking sharply when someone spoke or moved, as if he were indeed a hawk, observing its surroundings.

When Mara introduced herself, he fought down his nerves and the feeling of being slightly intimidated, and gave a small bow (he was pretty sure she couldn't see it, but Mistress Karya would not have suffered bad manners. "My name is Loxiel." He said. "Master Harroc He glanced up at the Druid with a flush. He had been a bit presumptuous in offering the man's name out without permission. . "Well, erm, he helped me deal with something," he was too embarrassed to say what.

Thankfully, the smith came to his aid. "If you folks want to go on; I can have one of my younglings bring them to you. Just let me know where you're off to, and the lady shall have her items in top form."
Word count: 235
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Harroc Crownegrove
Character
Disciples of Balance, Defender of the Woods
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01
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Re: Stepping Out and Stepping Up

Post by Harroc Crownegrove »

Harroc barked a short laugh for the title Loxiel had given him. Then, nodding back to the bonesmith as he followed Mara, said, "We'll head to the Sweet Solarium bonesmith. As always the craft will be worth the wait." He fell in step behind the woman, blocking off folks from rushing past her shoulder as he watched her move in tandem with her staff. "Apparently I'm a Master now," he said as a wide grin split his features. "Though I must admit I've taken young Loxiel under my wing."

Mara hummed thoughtfully before remarking, “It seems to me that does make you a master then; a mentor.” She lifted her head with a serene smile. “Congratulations are in order for the both of you.”

Loxiel flushed at that, both with unsurety that he ever should have called the Druid ‘Master’ and a little excitement at Harroc’s saying of him being “taken under my wing”! To think that someone like Harroc would take an interest in him caused a stirring of pride. No one, besides Inya, of course, had ever really paid him much attention, just seeing him as some orphan Changeling with no magic or skill with a sword. Also: “under my wing”? Loxiel fought down a grin at the phrasing. The man had seen him in his hawk-form after all! To Mara, he bowed his head slightly. “Thank you, my Lady.” He had better prove worthy enough to be called a ‘student’ to this enigmatic man!

The inherent respect in an address such as “my lady” appeared to startle Mara, just as Harroc had been startled to be called “master”. With half of her face covered, however, it was hard to gauge the depth of her surprise until she craned her head in Loxiel's direction. “Please, just 'Mara' will do. You give me far too much prestige otherwise.”
Lest Loxiel think she was upset, there was a clear sign of humor in the upward tilt at one corner of her mouth.

Loxiel feared his face would continually be red the entire time he was in these two people’s company. He was often teased for blushing, and it was something he hated. “Sorry, my … er, Mara.” He said. He felt oddly uncomfortable calling someone so obviously above him in manner and demeanor by their first name; he had always been taught to use a title by Mistress Karya. “Never presume to be so familiar,” she would say.

From Harroc’s memory, the Sweet Solarium was a quaint place despite the coming and going of many regular customers. Much like the trio, most patrons were customers of the nearby craftsmen. When the group arrived Harroc noticed several open tables, likely given the sun beginning to dip well into setting. With a nod to the others, Harroc slipped off his bag and settled into a carved chair at an open table. “Have you eaten here before Loxiel? If not, I strongly recommend you start at the top of the menu. Things get adventurous as you work your way down.” The Druid said as he picked up an artistically carved bark page.

Mara navigated the interior of the establishment with something like caution. The blunt end of her staff found the legs of a table and a chair each and skirted them without running into either. Upon reaching the table of Harroc's choosing, she found her seat with a questing sweep, then sat. It wasn't a thoroughly graceful process, but she didn't trip or embarrass herself either.
Unlike her companions, Mara did not reach for a menu. She propped her staff against the back of her chair and simply waited, hands folded demurely in her lap.

The Solarium’s fare ranged from the pleasant dew nectar and simple bread to more exotic fare like fried ghost panther. Harroc often found the more interesting foodstuffs were the sort of flavors that forced a patron into deep contemplation. With this in mind, he settled on the lighter fare. A young Fae waiter fluttered over to their table with a welcoming smile. “Welcome to the Sweet Solarium! Today’s special is pickled frog legs. Are there any questions about the menu?” When the fae waiter arrived – preceded by the hum of rapid wing beats – she turned her face in his direction with a small, warm smile. “I would like honey pudding and a plate of your fig and raspberry tarts for the table, please,” she said when neither of her table companions ordered.

Glancing at the items on the menu, Loxiel followed Harroc’s advice. Some of the dishes below sounded almost scary! Plus, in the Home, their diet was simple dishes of bread, cheese, with fruits and vegetables. Good for you, but lacking in much flavour (especially since the cook there only seemed to know how to boil everything). “I’ll just take some cheese and bread, please, sir.” He had wanted to order something a bit more adventurous, to show he wasn’t a complete bumpkin; but he also didn’t want to show himself up by having to spit out anything in front of such company.

Harroc glanced at Loxiel and shook his head before turning to the waiter. “A dew nectar as well as an order of the jungle chicken for me and the eyas.” He motioned to Mara, “Since you’re paying, I’ll not let the hawkling embarrass himself too much with his order.” After the waiter departed there was a brief moment of awkward silence before Loxiel spoke. “I’ve never really had dinner with people like you before,” Loxiel said, to both Harroc and Mara, then flushed as he realised how rude that might have sounded. “I mean … sorry … I only mean that most people aren’t like you … they’re just ordinary … not that you aren’t …” He realised he was babbling and quickly looked down at the table, his face red. ‘Idiot’, he said to himself, though Harroc’s use of the word ‘eyas’ had made him smile a little.

During the brief silence between placing their orders and Loxiel’s somewhat awkward foray into pleasant dinner conversation, Mara had appeared to relax back into her chair and “look” off to some point elsewhere in the room. The lad’s voice prompted her to angle her head towards him, and the halting manner of his speech in conjunction with his apology brought yet another of those small smiles to her lips.

“No apology is necessary,” she assured him gently. “No offense was taken on my part.”

Harroc clapped his hand onto Loxiel’s shoulder and shook his head at the boy. “You’re doing fine enough so far. Here’s something you can do for me though,” he said as he nodded at the edge of the platform and the jungle beyond. “Look out there, tell me what you’d see if you shifted. Make sure not to actually change though, it’ll get a bit messy otherwise. That's your first bit of training.”

Loxiel glanced up from the dew nectar he was sipping; it was so wonderfully sweet he wondered how he had gone sixteen years without ever having it before! He might become addicted to the stuff. Maybe he ought to start being a bit more open to new foods? But Harroc’s instruction brought his eyes up.

It was true that shifters often picked up attributes of the forms they spent the most time in, and since Loxiel could only take the form of a hawk since his first shift as a young boy, he had had years of experience. It didn’t necessarily mean he had the same impressive vision a bird of prey had while in his usual form, but his eyes had grown sharper over the years.

He turned his head to where Harroc had nodded. Was there something he was supposed to see? Did Harroc see something he could not? “I see …” His brow furrowed as he focused on the patch of jungle. “I don’t really …” Wait; did something move. He watched for a moment longer. “Something moved.” He found he actually had to fight the urge to shift, as it was almost instinctual when he was observing something he might want to chase (for sport, he had only hunted once, and caught a rabbit, feeling guilty about it afterwards). Loxiel barely blinked as he fixed on where the movement had happened. Again, a bobbing motion, then something walking across a branch, somewhat awkwardly. “There’s a bird, I think. It’s grey … a parrot, I would think.” Why couldn’t it have been one of those colourful ones? That would have been easier. “Yes, a parrot.” He glanced back at Harroc. “It’s all I can see, Master. Did I get it right?” The nervousness in his voice couldn’t be fully disguised.

Harroc nodded and smiled at his student. "Good, but now for the lesson." He held up three fingers and counted them off. "You are not some beast. Do not confuse instinct with intellect." Harroc lightly tapped Loxiel's forehead with his second finger. "A hawk may see only a target, but a hunter must track all things. How many people did you ignore passing by?" Harroc tapped his own ear with his final finger. "Why did you ignore your other senses? Think on these things and continue to observe but do not ignore your table. It will be good practice for the wilds."

Loxiel nodded, a little solemnly. Harroc was right. A hawk fixated in it’s prey, that and nothing else. It watched it’s every movement, where it looked, how it was acted, where it might go. The questions the Druid asked were very much on the mark; something Inya might say. “Yes, Master.” He said, after a moment. “I’ll try and be more aware of my surroundings in the future.”

Taking another sip of the nectar dew, he casually started glancing around the eating area, counting the people, watching them, though he wasn’t quite sure what he should be looking for; it was hardly a place where he would find an enemy! This would be a lesson that would no doubt take some time to learn.

After a moment Harroc turned to Mara and cleared his throat softly. “You’ve likely guessed we’re a pair of Shifters, but I haven’t the slightest what gives you your light. Care to share some before it gets completely dark?”

Loxiel’s eyes went to Mara at that; what would she say? There were some who had a distrust of Changelings and others who could ‘shift’, as some of the more advanced among them could impersonate Fae and Elves, maybe even using that for deception or criminal activities. It was not unheard of. Though to Loxiel, this soft spoken woman didn’t seem the type who would be so narrow minded. Afterall, she had agreed to have dinner with them, without even knowing much about them.

Mara had been silent, almost thoughtfully so, while Harroc and Loxiel went about their exercise. Anyone with keen observation skills could tell that she was attending their discussion closely, however; her face wasn’t turned to either of them, and her head was slightly bowed, but that was only so she could focus on incoming sound.

The Fae waiter had returned at some point, too. She had located the plate of tarts unerringly and crumbled one up into her bowl of honey pudding. Her hand paused in the act of stirring the whole of it together when Harroc’s focus shifted in her direction. “You need not fear the dark,” Mara said softly, sounding as though she might genuinely believe it worried him. “Ristgir’s light is never far.”

With her free hand, Mara reached down and touched the long pole of her staff. Her lips moved, inciting some kind of prayer, and the white wood began to luminesce. At first dimly, the light grew, spreading throughout the staff until the whole of it was suffused and throwing their shadows in stark relief against the walls around them.

“I am a Light Keeper,” she said by way of explanation, “I am an acolyte of Ristgir. With His blessing, I carry his flame through this world and the next.”

Loxiel watched Mara’s display of power, caught somewhere between awe, curiosity, and that ever feeling he had when he was around magic. Having no magic had been a constant cause of strife for him, and often he had been looked down on by some of the more arrogant Fae.

He had no idea what a ‘Light Keeper’ was; something he would pluck up the courage to ask her another time … he knew a little of Ristgir, through his education. A creature of curiosity, Mara would most likely be subjected to a barrage of questions once he felt more confident in her presence. For now, he sat quietly, turning to Harroc to see what his reaction would be. No doubt a Druid and an Elemental (something he also wanted to know more about), would be more familiar and at ease with such displays of magic.

Harroc blinked sharply as the light reached its full brilliance. He was familiar with Ristgir, though not any of the particular rituals and rites of adherence. “You bring the flame to lighten the shaded lands.” He pointed his palm at the glowing staff and nodded towards it. “May I place a cover above this to preserve the sense of setting sun?” he asked as he flexed his fingers.

In lieu of a verbal answer, Mara made a gesture in the air and the light winked out like a candle had been snuffed. She then returned to stirring her pudding, looking more or less content with herself. “It is as you say.” Harroc dropped his hand and nodded before taking a rock antler out of his small pack and placing it near Mara. “This is the antlers of an elemental beast I recently encountered. It was aggressive and something I’ve yet to see before.” Harroc waited for the others to inspect the river elk antlers.

“I am preparing to undertake a journey deep into the darkness of the jungle. There is some disruption there and my order requires I not ignore it.” Harroc flipped his hand towards Loxiel as he continued, “Before today I was planning to hire a young militia member, but now I have a likely interested eyas.” The Druid took a quick sip of his dew. “Could I convince you to join us? I can offer protected travel and food. I am uncertain what we will encounter, and would appreciate magical assistance.”

Lox listened as Harroc spoke. His heart sank when he realised that what the man was proposing, he would probably be more of a hindrance than any help. “I’ve only mastered one form, sir. The hawk. I am working on a cat-form, and I think I could pull it off with a little time but … to be honest, I am not sure what use I could be, compared to the two of you.” He said this sadly, sure that his revelation would mean he would be left behind on his first ever chance at an adventure. “But,” he said, after a moment. “Inya … that is, the Elf who taught me forestry and such, says I’d make a good scout. If I can be of any use, I would be very honoured to be part of this adven … I mean, mission.”

Mara took her first bite of honey pudding. While she chewed, she reached out and felt along the table for the object Harroc put within her vicinity. Upon grasping the antler, she hefted it from the table and gingerly felt its shape with her fingertips, following its curves and points with a cautious touch. Beneath her visor, just out of sight, her brows furrowed.

“This undertaking would be the first I have ever done,” she said without hesitation. “But it is my privilege to carry Ristgir’s light into dark places, and I may be a suitable physician should the need arise.” There was a pause as she set the antler back down on the table. “I accept.”

Harroc smiled and nodded to the pair “It will be an adventure, and we can leave in the morning if there is nothing to keep you,” he said with an energy to his voice. “Gather any equipment you might require for a half-month’s journey and meet me at the west rest grove in the late morning and we can set out into the wilds.” With that he took the antlers back into this pack and worked on enjoying his meal.

Loxiel could barely contain his own excitement and almost lept from the table then and there. His manners, drilled into his head, kept him politely in his seat long enough to finish the remains of his meal in a barely contained rush. “Thank you so much for the meal,” he said as he stood from the table. “I’ll get my things and meet you there tomorrow then.”
Word count: 2863
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Loxiel
Character
Level
03
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38 / 38 MP
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Re: Stepping Out and Stepping Up

Post by Loxiel »

Mistress Karya listened as Loxiel essentially babbled his way through the day's events. Her expression hinted at some disapproval. "So, you meet two strangers and decide to go on, what could be, a very dangerous adventure?" She shook her head. "If it wasn't so in character with you, my dear boy, I would stop you before you could leave!" She gave a sigh, then smiled. "But you seem determined."

Loxiel glanced up at her. "So, you don't mind me staying one more night?"

"Oh, Loxiel!" She shook her head and stood, standing before him and placing her hands on his shoulders. "You are welcome to stay here whenever need arises. She sighed again. "You're grown now, and off you're going into the world. Of course, you were always looking to the horizon, ever since you were a youngling no taller than my hip." She gave his shoulder a pat. "It won't be the same Home without you in it. But you have my blessing and strict orders to get a good night's sleep!"

Loxiel smiled. "I doubt I will sleep a wink!" He said. The excited anticipation filled his head like strong wine. "But thank you, for everything."

"You've thanked me more times than I can count." She replied. "You can really make it up to me by coming back safe. Consider it another order."

Loxiel bowed his head. "Yes, ma'am."

***

Despite his claim, Loxiel fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. Maybe it was all the excitement of the day, or maybe it was that he had been up since the crack of dawn and had spent the entire day on the move, shifting, getting into fights, and then signing up for something that he had always dreamed of: a real adventure!

***

Hoisting his bag up on his shoulders, Loxiel stepped out of the door to the orphanage that had been his home since he had been six years old. He had thought he was leaving it behind the previous day, but then he had thought he would simply live elsewhere in the city. Now though, he was off into the wilds with a Druid and a Cleric ... the thought made him shiver with nervous excitement. He gave the old building one last look.

Loxiel couldn't say he had been unhappy at the Home, but he had never been popular with the others, mainly due to him keeping very much to himself. He never felt like he belonged in their circles and groups. He was happiest when he was off exploring. It seemed no one shared the same dream as he, at least not with the same fervour. He wanted to be a hero.

And today was his first step.

***

The Fae at the cooking station had fed him, and upon hearing of his plans to go off on a journey, had added quite a bit more to his provisions. He wouldn't have to hunt for some time. He hadn't given her any details, as he wasn't sure he was supposed to tell anyone or not! Just a vague 'going on a trip, and might be some time before he returns' kind of thing.

Now Loxiel waited at the spot Harroc had said, earlier than was necessary, but he was so eager that he had been awake before dawn and was itching to go. Leaning back against a tree, he put his bags to the floor (they seemed quite heavy! No books on heroism ever mentioned having to lug around all this stuff!) and tried to be patient.

Soon, it would begin.
Word count: 596
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Harroc Crownegrove
Character
Disciples of Balance, Defender of the Woods
Level
01
24 / 24 HP
21 / 21 MP
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Race: Elemental and Shapeshifter
Class: Druid
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Re: Stepping Out and Stepping Up

Post by Harroc Crownegrove »

There was little Harroc needed to prepare for the journey. Despite this, he found his thoughts running ahead of his feet as he walked into the militia waystation. Originally, he'd come to remove his request for young militia members, however, as he waited, voices captured his attention. "Inya, how did the western reach look today?" the station captain asked a tawny tattooed elf. Harroc didn't hear her reply as he moved to intercept her. As she left the desk, the Druid raised an open palm at his waist. "Pardon, is Loxiel one of your students?" he asked her, quietly enough to not draw attention. The Elf's features hardened, and she took Harroc in before replying, "Perhaps, who is asking?"

Harroc dropped his hand and raised his head, exposing a small portion of his neck, as he replied, "I am Harroc, a woodsman and Shifter. I found him in conflict with a Fae earlier today. One thing led to another, and now he's accompanying me on an expedition into the deep jungle tomorrow." Inya's features flickered as he spoke, tiny changes in her hard mask. They subtly shifted from concern to annoyance, and finally curiosity. "He's already gotten himself into trouble. What did he offer you that you so willingly bring him into danger?" she asked with a small bite to her words. Harroc lowered his chin and smiled brightly, his eyes sparkling with barely contained excitement. "He needs training in his hawk form and the dangers around him. I need apprentices to help with keeping the balance." Inya nodded along fractionally while Harroc outlined their trip in broad strokes. When he'd finished, Harroc said, "Though, that's not the complete reason I stopped you."



Harroc packed his camp well before the faint dawn broke the trees. Despite the general safety of the city, practicing caution was a must before any return to the wilds. Finishing his packing, he dispersed the ashes of a small fire and settled his pack and bedroll against his shoulders. He took in a breakfast of seasoned jerky; lazily walking his way along the edges of the camping grove. When he spotted Loxiel making his way through the dense trees on the far side of the grove, he chuckled to himself before shifting into a sleek jungle cat.

His footpads moved across the dense leaves with barely a whisper as he stalked his young charge. The early morning light sifting through the jungle made his dappled fur near invisible, leaving faint prints as the only sign of his passing. Harroc circled behind Loxiel, who had taken to leaning against a tree. The Druid waited silently behind the boy until he heard a soft bird song. He grinned with his jaguar mouth and lept around the tree with a loud roar. From above a terse voice snapped out a sharp "Wrong!" before faint laughter could be heard.
Last edited by Harroc Crownegrove on September 26th, 2019, 12:00 am, edited 1 time in total.
Word count: 479
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Loxiel
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Level
03
48 / 48 HP
38 / 38 MP
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Race: Fae and Shapeshifter
Class: Rogue
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Re: Stepping Out and Stepping Up

Post by Loxiel »

Loxiel glanced up at the sound of a songbird in the branches above him, but barely had time to appreciate it before the roar erupted from behind him.

With a cry, he jumped forward, his bags falling from his hands. With a glance back, his eyes met that of the large cat which was staring right at him. He barely registered hearing the familiar "wrong" that came from the tree tops before he shifted, taking his hawk-form, then in a panic tried to get off the ground. A few panicked hops and he frantically took to the air.

The fast transformation was not pleasant, and he didn't go far, taking perch on a branch just above where he had dropped his bags. He peered down at the cat, his heard hammering in his feathered chest, his beak open as he panted.

"Well!" Dropping gracefully (seemingly nowhere), Inya rose from a crouch on the grassy floor. She looked up at Loxiel, then her eyes turned to the cat. "It seems you were right. My student could do with a little more training."

Loxiel's head cocked, completely confused.

Inya gave a chuckle. "Come down, little hawk." She said. "I'm sure your new master here would like to tell you what you did wrong, and I would be delighted to hear it, myself."

Loxiel's eyes fixed on the cat ... that was Harroc? Anger and embarrassment surged through him; and when he (reluctantly) fluttered down, shifting back into his usual form, his cheeks were flushed crimson. His eyes moved from Inya to Harroc. "What was that for?!" He asked, still breathing quickly. "That wasn't fair!"

"Fair?" Inya laughed a little, then glanced at Harroc. "I'll let you tell him what 'fair' means out there, in the wilds."
Word count: 293
User avatar
Mara Whitewood
Character
Disciple of Ristgir
Level
01
24 / 24 HP
20 / 20 MP
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Race: Human
Class: Cleric
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Re: Stepping Out and Stepping Up

Post by Mara Whitewood »

After the trio went their separate ways, Mara went straight to her quarters with only a brief detour in order to collect her needles from the bone smith. They gleamed, sharp and white, in her palm when she perused them later by candlelight. The next time she had to suture a wound closed, she would be happy to have them. She reminded herself to thank Harroc again the next time she saw him.

Mara spent the rest of her evening replenishing her medical kit in preparation for the excursion. By the diffused light of a solitary candle, she rolled fresh bandages, ground herbs into salves, and ordered her antitoxins. She discovered that her spool of catgut thread was running low and added another mental note to get more come the morning. Finally, she said a prayer to Ristgir over her candle. Then she snuffed it out, rolled into her hammock, and drifted off to the gentle creak of wood and nocturnal jungle sounds.

The sun rose and Mara rose with it to greet the watery sunlight filtering down through the thick copse. Back inside her small, private quarters, she readied herself for the day's journey and tried to dispel the uneasy feeling in her stomach. This was nothing at all like anything she had every done before, but wasn't it precisely what she had been silently yearning to do?

It took no time at all to scrounge up a light breakfast, and even less time to procure the catgut she needed. In the intervening hours before she was expected to meet with Harroc and Loxiel, Mara found a sunny place to sit near the various market stalls and simply listened. The sounds of life, of activity, did much to calm her nerves. By the time she left to walk to the grove, she was feeling better.

When Mara arrived at the agreed upon place at the appointed time, she already knew that she was the last to arrive. Loxiel's voice raised in mild indignation was easy to identify, but the female one was unfamiliar. Pausing a few feet away, head bowed a little to strain her hearing, she planted the blunt end of her staff in the moist earth and spoke.

"Blessed morning to you," she said, addressing everyone and the jungle apparently. "I hope I have not arrived too late." Mara had a pretty good grasp of time no matter that she couldn't see the sun's position, so she didn't think she was much later than she should have been.
Word count: 421
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Harroc Crownegrove
Character
Disciples of Balance, Defender of the Woods
Level
01
24 / 24 HP
21 / 21 MP
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Race: Elemental and Shapeshifter
Class: Druid
Posts: 141
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Re: Stepping Out and Stepping Up

Post by Harroc Crownegrove »

Harroc dashed forward and ran a circle around Loxiel, pressing against the boy's legs as he went. Completing his circuit, the Shifter leaped and landed in his human form, his grin even wider than before. Several moments passed before Harroc schooled his features and was prepared to instruct his apprentice. Before he began, he took a moment to welcome the final member of the adventure to the grove. "Welcome, Mara. You've arrived just in time," he said with a chuckle. Harroc angled to speak between those present and said, "Today, beyond the obvious mistake of feeling safe so close to the edge of the city, Loxiel's failing was not his own, but mine."

The Druid brought swept his hand out, encompassing the eyas. "As you already know, you limit yourself to instincts that are below your own." Harroc curled his fingers into claws. "You have talons, and yet you flee; lacking the strength to truly escape. Time without challenge has left you lacking the desperation you may require." He nodded to Inya before continuing. "It's clear you have some training and given your other instructor you must show talent. You simply need to trust what you've been taught over what you believe you know."

Harroc turned fully to face Mara and began to slowly walk towards a break in the grove. "The pair of you will be as safe as I can make you, but I am not a great beast." As he drew beside the healer, he lightly clasped her shoulder for a moment. "Let's begin our walk out of the city while our friend gathers his bags."

Inya took Loxiel by the shoulder and took him a few steps away. She glanced down at the dagger. "A weapon, now?" She said, with a raised brow. "Let's hope you don't need to use it since I am fairly sure you have no idea how to." She looked back at him, her voice lowered. "This new mentor of yours ... he seems experienced and capable, but that does not mean you should trust him completely. In fact, my advice is to trust no one, completely. But if you are to be a student, then I expect you to be loyal and do well. Just because you have a new teacher, does not mean your work with me is concluded." She straightened up, no longer keeping her voice so low. "Good luck, little hawk. Use your skills and your ears. Everything is a lesson, so make sure you learn."
Word count: 417
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Loxiel
Character
Level
03
48 / 48 HP
38 / 38 MP
0p / 0g / 0s / 55c
Race: Fae and Shapeshifter
Class: Rogue
Posts: 47
Joined: September 13th, 2019, 3:14 am
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Re: Stepping Out and Stepping Up

Post by Loxiel »

Loxiel had given a solemn nod as Harroc spoke. "Yes, Master." He said, obediently. The Druid was right; he did have talons. There was no reason that he could not have done something! It was something he needed to reflect on.

Still, his face was flushed red when Mara approached. He bowed his head (though he doubted she could see the gesture, he was nothing if not respectful). "Good morning, Mistress Mara."

When Inya pulled him aside and spoke to him, he listened intently. Her demands that he be loyal, yet still wary sank into him. She was right, of course. He didn't truly know Mara, or his new master, but he knew in his bones that there were lessons that he could not learn within the confines of Ajteire, and he was excited to see them. When she bid him farewell, he wanted to tell her that he would miss her, but he knew it would only earn him a sly remark. Inya didn't seem the sentimental type, though as his hand went to the scarf wrapped around his waist, he had reason to doubt.

"I'll bring you back a gift," he said, at last. "And I will make you proud."

Inya gave a soft laugh as she turned and left. "Of course you will. I expect nothing less."

Loxiel watched her go and gave a small sigh. Turning back to the others, he grabbed his bags with a look of embarrassment as they were now in a bit of a mess from being dropped in his flight. "I'm all set." He said, forcing confidence into his voice.

As they began their walk out of the city, he glanced back now and then. He would miss it, in his own way. But an adventure was waiting, and he was eager to prove himself worthy of the task.
Word count: 308
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