[OPEN] The Practice Groves
- The Unreliable Narrator
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CharacterCreator of Prompts and Inspiration
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[OPEN] The Practice Groves
Several of the larger groves are filled with replica villages. Empty shells of buildings, footbridges, and vine ropes complete a low-to-the-ground training area. This allows the militia to practice defending the city without the danger of its great heights. One of the villages is maintained for a less militaristic use. Here visiting adventures, enterprising citizens, and interested travelers can participate in simulated wargames or simply enjoy displays of athletic and martial prowess.
Those seeking training in the skills of combat and woodcraft can often find trainers in the area, and those wishing to join a patrol outside the city prove their competence and volunteer. Patrols leave regularly to disperse amassing hordes of undead, recover lost or dead travelers and adventurers, and deal with encroaching beasts.
Note: Moreso than even the rest of the forum the groves are a space outside the normal constraints of time. Please account for this by enclosing your posts somewhat and if they become heavily involved moving then to a separate thread. This is an open training and combat area, multiplayer scenes are encouraged.
- Roan Mohan
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CharacterLuminous & Bright
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Level010p / 0g / 0s / 50c
- Race: Fae
- Class: Bard
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Re: [OPEN] The Practice Groves
That collection of syllables, breathed together, whispered with a grin, brought forth in a challenge, were perhaps words that the youngest Mohan did not need to hear from the lips of his sister Rylna ... probably ever. She was, to be fair, most likely tired of his pestering, annoyed that he'd loitered in the kitchens well past he was needed, munching on scraps and tucking away sweets. She was also, to be less fair, hardly ignorant of how dangerous the jungle was beyond the relative safety of the ruddy glow of Ajteire's boundaries, and yet, he'd said he was leaving, and yet, he'd said he'd stop being a pest to her one day, and yet, he said he'd be fine on his own ... and she did not believe him.
"You say you can take care of yourself, but here you are, stuffing your cheeks like a lazy monkey and hiding in familiar trees."
They'd argued about this all day while chopping vegetables for roasting and slicing fungus. Roan had brought up his superior survivability, seemingly convinced that the younger Mohan was a better hunter, a better explorer, and a far better sneak in the trees than she ever could be. Rylna only desired to point out that he was too loud, too curious, and too rambunctious for his own good and that all of those things would surely get him eaten someday, far from the protective reach of their Kerasoka allies.
He'd told her he could already take care of himself.
She told him to prove it.
"I'm just waiting for the right moment, Rylna." Roan huffed, mocking offense from around a mouthful of berries, pausing to lick fingertips slowly in defiant emphasis, not wasting a drop, "Like Dainyil's blessings of creativity, some things simply must happen at the perfect time. The breeze of inspiration comes and goes. I'll be here and then I'll be gone."
"So go get some practice. You know. Before you're gone and all. It's not like you're helping in the kitchens right now, are you?" His older sister smirked. Her judgmental glare was just as verdant and green than his own. She stuck out her chin at him and waved a small cleaver in his direction before returning to cracking the hard caps of several shell-like fungi in preparation to sauté them, "You'd best know how to handle yourself against what's out there wanting to eat you—or worse, wanting to turn you into another one of them."
"Fine." The musical fae sighed, rolling his eyes and shaking one last piece of fruit for emphasis at his scowling green-haired sister, "But you know I'm a fair better shot with a bow than you are. Among other things."
Roan laughed and taunted his elder sibling before finally slipping away from the watch kitchens and out into the thick, humid air of midday. The lithe musician made his way home for his weapons first—his Kerasoka-made bow and quiver along with his curved short sword. He paused to tug on his tough leather cuirass carefully around his flowing wings, fumbling with the wide belt and tying with deft fingers the vambraces that were still a little too rough at the edges from lack of wear. His eyes might have lingered on his well-waxed mandolin—
Perhaps Rylna was right.
Perhaps he'd never be ready.
No. The world called him with its song, waking and sleeping, and he wanted to learn the tune of it not by listening from the familiar jungles of home, but from walking among the melodies and seeing the notes for himself.
Setting his delicate jaw and humming a deep and throaty tune that hunters sang around the campfires late into the night, Roan stepped from home and simply leapt from the deck he'd helped repair with his father just a few months ago, the strong scents of the still-fresh wood still fragrant and delicious. Unfurling his wings, feeling the shift in his own weight in his light armor, the fae musician dropped from the residential cluster he'd spent so much of his life living in around family and friends and dipped toward the practice groves, agile and familiar with Ajteire after so long within its protective glow.
Down through the lofty canopy and toward the hotter, more humid under layers of the jungle, Roan drifted downward to the ground without his usual grace—it had been quite some time since he'd done much in his armor, after all.
This particular practice grove was set up like a little village among the wide tree trunks and well-tended undergrowth, far enough toward the edge of the city's boundaries to feel almost abandoned and eerie.
Surely, there were some folks about, thought the verdant musician, bright green gaze wandering to find a sign of some of the militia or hunters or even visitors with which to find some training with, one calloused hand straying to come to rest on the hilt of his weapon while he attempted to look as though he belonged while his heart set a staccato rhythm in his narrow chest and his pulse played a nervous tune through his veins.
"Well met!" He all but sang his greeting, eager and curious.
- Harroc Crownegrove
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CharacterDisciples of Balance, Defender of the Woods
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Level010p / 0g / 0s / 50c
- Race: Elemental and Shapeshifter
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Re: [OPEN] The Practice Groves
When the beat of Fae wings came into the grove Harroc's ears twitched. It wasn't uncommon for Fae to visit the practice villages; the huts represent an excellent test of magic skills. When a voice called out into the still buzz of the jungle, the Shifter shifted his head. A Fae floated there clad in fitted, but clearly stiff, leather armor. The man rested a hand on a sword and had a bow across his back, but the way his eyes drifted around the near-empty village betrayed his inexperience.
Harroc let loose a great yawn, showing his tongue and teeth, before rising to stretch his limbs. With a graceful leap, he moved from his platform to the packed dirt below. As he landed, he shifted into his humanoid form. "Good afternoon, Fae-friend. Do you know how to handle those?" Harroc asked as he rolled his shoulders and stretched his arms across his body. Harroc certainly wouldn't mind a bit of light sparring to work the ache from his muscles. Though he'd learned to approach the Fae with caution, they tended to be far less straightforward than their more martial allies.
- Roan Mohan
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CharacterLuminous & Bright
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Level010p / 0g / 0s / 50c
- Race: Fae
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Re: [OPEN] The Practice Groves
He caught a glimpse of sharp teeth in that massive maw and his pale, incandescent wings that felt reminiscent of a moth's fluttered a few extra beats to the swifter rhythm of his pulse. A delicate chin rose slightly at the challenge, and Roan narrowed his eyes just a little, studying the way the beast became a man with the kind of fascination of someone who enjoyed observing more than they should on a regular basis,
"I've done my duties on patrol before and come home in one piece if that's what you're asking." The riposte was delivered in a musical lilt, a hint of humor creasing into the fae musician's well-hewn features, the hint of a chuckle held back. Not all of his forays into guard duty had been uneventful, and his aim was not tarnished by hesitance or fear: he had no qualms about defending himself with objects or magic, with wit or charm, depending on the circumstances, "So, I'd say I know just enough on how to handle myself as well as these weapons, aye."
Hips shifted and Roan found a more comfortable stance, the wet air having crawled into all the tight places of his armor and making it that much heavier. It had been too long since he'd put it on, and he knew it.
"Are you here waiting, too? Or are you part of the training?" There was the whisper of a challenge in the undertone of the fae's voice, Roan still grinning and apparently full of too much mischief for his own good. He rolled his shoulders and waggled fingers further toward the buildings and the trees, swatting a few gnats in the motion,
"Or mayhaps you were just hoping for some company?" The same fingers curled and he hooked a thumb toward the cured leather that covered his chest, "I'm Roan, by the way."
- Loxiel
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Character
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Level030p / 0g / 0s / 55c
- Race: Fae and Shapeshifter
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Re: [OPEN] The Practice Groves
“Why not? You fight using a dagger. That's what I want to be able to do, too." He had explained.
Inya took a bite of the toast she held in her fingers. "I train people in the noble art of traversing the perilous jungles," she said, earning a chuckle from the other militia members at the table. "Go to the Practice Groves; you might find someone who knows how to use a dagger, and be a better tutor than I."
And so Loxiel wandered into the Practice Groves and sought the first person he saw wearing the badge that heralded him as a member of the militia. "Exscuse me, sir." He said, as he approached the Fae who stood just inside the entrance, holding a spear and watching a pair of young women duelling with wooden swords. "Mistress Inya told me I might find someone here who could help me train in using a dagger?"
The guard looked at him for a moment. "You're one of Karla's lot?"
Loxiel nodded, though he wasn't sure why that was relevant.
"And she knows you're here?"
"I am a man grown now, so I can train if someone will teach me," he said, a little annoyed. But he nodded anyway.
Seeming satisfied, the guard glanced around. "Wait here; I'll see if there's anyone who can teach you."
Loxiel watched as the Fae fluttered off, hoping that he wasn't just going to be using his dagger as a fruit peeler for the rest of his life.
- The Unreliable Narrator
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CharacterCreator of Prompts and Inspiration
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Re: [OPEN] The Practice Groves
The hunter wasted little time on pleasantries when he found his prey. "That your knife?" He asked before pulling the weapon from its sheath and inspecting it. In the span of a breath he flipped the weapon, caught it, and held it back to Loxiel pommel first. "It'll do, come with me and we'll see how wasted it is on you."
The hunter led Loxiel to a burlap target dummy that was stuffed with leaves and wrapped in fraying rope. On the dummy was a collection of heavily scored wooden plates. "Alright boy, show me what you're worth." Kheram said before stepping to the side and staring at Loxiel.
- Loxiel
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Character
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Level030p / 0g / 0s / 55c
- Race: Fae and Shapeshifter
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Re: [OPEN] The Practice Groves
Before he could introduce himself, the man reached and took the dagger from him. A brief flash of irritation flew across his features at that; the dagger was one of his most prized possessions! He was relieved to have it back.
What he was not so thrilled with, was the instruction to demonstrate what he knew about fighting with a dagger ... which amounted to absolutely nothing.
"Yes, sir." He said, gripped the dagger, he stood in front of the dummy, adopted what he thought might look like the right stance for a knife attack, and then simply thrust the thing into the dummy's mid section. Then he stood, looking back to the scarred man. "Erm ... that's all I know." He said, as if what he did was even a proper attack with a dagger. "I've never trained before mister ... my apologies, I didn't catch your name," he knew he had not asked, but didn't want to draw attention to the fact that this man had not offered his own or asked his new student. "I'm Loxiel. I study forestry and navigation with Inya of the city guard."
He looked back where his dagger protruded from the dummy, looking a little silly. Loxiel gave an embarrassed shrug. "I don't suppose that, that would have killed it?"
- Roan Mohan
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CharacterLuminous & Bright
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Level010p / 0g / 0s / 50c
- Race: Fae
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Re: [OPEN] The Practice Groves
He made a better support than he did a front-line creature, it was true, but the fae wasn't helpless.
Would the shifter rise to a challenge or did he consider Roan an unworthy opponent? Used to such dismissal, it wasn't as though he was at all good at taking no for an answer—just as skilled with his charm and wit as he was with the bow slung behind him and the magic that thrummed through his entire being,
"We could spar, then—" Roan grinned, mischievous as usual, and made the choice to remove his quiver and his ranged weapon, setting them aside against one of the ubiquitous trees tucked between the abandoned, vine-covered structures down here on the ground, "—maybe I'll make it easy for you, you know, just my blade against yours, perhaps?"
He was aware of his weaknesses, aware of his limited strength and endurance, but he was also hoping to improve himself when it came to observing and predicting opponents when it came to learning when to channel his magical talents to shield and protect, to dazzle and blind, or to even hold still. He had a few tricks up his sleeve, as any good, well-practiced fae should, and he wasn't afraid to use them.
"What do you say?"
If there was an agreement, Roan was certainly an amiable creature, happy to let the shifter choose whatever he wanted: location, terms, it really didn't matter. If Roan was going to show his sister what he was made of, he was most likely going to come home a little battered anyway and that was fine by him,
"Just not the wings, you know. They're delicate things." The musician winked, almost coyly, but that was just about where his pleasantries would end. Once engaged in melee, he was indeed a quick little thing: light on his feet because he could leap into the air with a flutter of iridescent greens and stay there, waiting for his opportunity and being annoying in general. He wasn't afraid to step into an attack and bring up a magical concentration of invisible force, a barrier, an etherial shield that would slow or even stop the impact of Harroc's blows, though it was obvious that such choices were draining.
He wasn't a clean fighter, either, the little beast sly and willing to toss up some dazzling light in the shifters face with a giggle and a jab of a hilt to the ribs. Roan was, in short, annoying and meddlesome, but also hardly possessing of the muscle mass or practice to have any hope of keeping up with a superior predator—the fae musician was not built for a long fight but he wasn't about to let such a truth show on his impish face.
- The Unreliable Narrator
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CharacterCreator of Prompts and Inspiration
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Level010p / 0g / 0s / 50c
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Re: [OPEN] The Practice Groves
The instructor pulled the dagger from the target, placed it in Loxiel's hand, and then spent a moment adjusting the angle of the grip in the Shifter's palm. Then he gripped the boy's shoulder and turned him to face the dummy, keeping his right side forward. "You're left-handed, so you put the striking hand in cover. Keep yourself back, smaller target," he said as he adjusted Loxiel's stance. "Strike around, over, or through your guard." As Kheram said each direction, he guided the Shifter's knife along the appropriate path. With a nod, the trainer stepped back and said, "Now do that, but hit the plates. They're places where you can actually slow an undead man down." The instructor turned and began to walk away speaking over his shoulder, "If you practice that enough come find me again maybe. I'll see if you're worth it then."
- Harroc Crownegrove
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CharacterDisciples of Balance, Defender of the Woods
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Level010p / 0g / 0s / 50c
- Race: Elemental and Shapeshifter
- Class: Druid
- Posts: 141
- Joined: August 5th, 2019, 1:48 am
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Re: [OPEN] The Practice Groves
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Harroc watched the Fae drift down and smiled broadly at the confidence he displayed. "Harroc, and I appreciate the offer." The Shifter moved in a small circle, making sure the area was clear of hazards with a cursory sweep. When the two were a reasonable distance apart, he pulled out his short spear and said, "Alright by me. Strike to contact and surrender." With quick movements, Harroc tightened the leather sheath on his spearhead and then tossed his staff aside. He took a fighting stance, half-crouched with his body turned, and waited for his opponent. As soon as they began, he dashed forward, his spear thrust towards the Fae's chest.