Logfile from Tenebrae - Azog.
It's Eliday, Rhaltaas 20 12:33:38 1021. The full moon is up. The tide is low and slack.
Fair weather clouds drift through the blue sky from the west. The wind is gusty.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--(* A11: Festival Grounds *)=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
The sweeping Festival Grounds serve many purposes. For much of the year they serve as practice grounds for
training knights, for the games of children who pick up ball, bat, and begin a game of stickball. During other times,
they're filled with colored tents, with performers for some of Alexandria's many festivals.
Along one side are a set of permanent bleachers, and at either end an archway. Each archway is carved in the
style of a grand entry and marked with images of of Daeus, with rearing horse and flying pennon. Here, the god stands
depicted in his roles of defender and knight-warrior. Recently, the Lancers of Serriel have taken to practicing here,
along the knights and warriors of other orders, and a small number of them take a select pride in the upkeep of the
grounds, alongside the Daeusites, Navosians, Gileans, and other mixtures.
Littering the grounds are places for archery, target practice. Here too, scheduled a few times a month, is
the space given for ridden sport, organized recently by the arvek nar. The reigning champion's name is displayed in an
upright lance at the end of the field, a silent challenge for next month's contender.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-- Contents --=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
Aya Mul'niessa. Braided hair. Simple clothing. 4m 2h
Azog A huge male orc with long black hair in a topknot. 0s 2h
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= Exits -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
South (S) North (N)
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Aya
This Mul'niessa stands proudly upright, regardless of how tall her four and one-half foot stature fares
compared to those around her. Her flesh is a median medium grey, with a hint of blue, though may appear darker in
contrast to alabaster hair. Though lengthy, her mane is firmly kept against her scalp, between her dagger-like ears,
and down her back in rows of small braids that themselves weave into a large tail hanging down her spine.
She is dressed simply in a triangular, tapered wrap of white cloth that forms an angled hemline between left
knee and right thigh, crosses at the small of her back, again across her chest, and completes around her neck with an
off-center knot. Additional wraps of fur cover arms and legs when the climate demands it, and a subdued gray cloak
keeps wind and rain away as needed. Around her neck is a small mithrail chain that weaves together in a pattern to
form a pendant at her throat out of its own length. Pinned to the fabric at her left shoulder is a platinum floral
broach (+view)
Azog
Azog is a monstrous orc, seven feet tall and massively built, with a youthful but careworn face. He has darkly
tanned skin and black hair, shaved except for a topknot braided and hanging down his back. His shoulders are huge,
and he has a barrel chest that tells of great strength. His abs are rock hard, and his hips solid, leading down into
tree-trunk legs, though they're a bit bowed, characteristic of someone who spends a lot of time in the saddle.
Over full plate armor is a heavy leather winter garb consisting of layers of leather. The innermost has some
slightly fancy tooling in geometric patterns, and is dyed a medium green. Over that is an overcoat of very dark green,
with heavy shoulders covered with leather scales, likewise dyed dark green. The coat hangs down to his knees, and below
his waist, the layers of heavy leather over the lighter continue. Heavy, knee-high boots are dyed black, but they blend
with the dark green of leggings that are bloused at the knees. A red sash circles his waist, and a sword belt secures
that in place. At his waist, on the left side, sits a bastard sword in a fine scabbard. Across his back is a heavy
shield, obsscuring his backpack. Over his right shoulder is the head of a massive adamantine earthbreaker.
Azog is trudging down the street pulling a heavy wagon by himself. The four-wheeled flatbed has an approximately man-
sized thing on the bed, covered by a tarpaulin. He is headed south toward the Temple District.
Many public places are less crowded these days, whether due to the unpleasant turn in weather or concerns of
contagion. This suits some just fine. Aya for one, who takes advantage of both the overcast skies and the relative
solitude in the grounds to train. While the target stand-in was likely designed for blade or arrowpoint, it seems to
serve its purpose well enough for hand, elbow, knee, and foot strikes.
Azog will pause in his travails to watch Aya training for a few moments. He generally watches the people training, to
guage their level of skill. So that he knows where he stands among them. But it's hardly an exact science. Even with
his new device. "Good mornnig," he calls during a pause in the training routine.
Aya straighten up somewhat at the called greeting, turning towards the caller. "It is morning, at least. The rest
remains to be seen." Her eyes drift past Azog to his cart and cargo. "I would venture to guess that the morning is not
so good for at least one."
Azog shrugs at the goodness of the morning remaining to be seen. "It is almost done, it should have made its mind up
by now." He follows Aya's gaze to his cargo, and looks even more puzzled. Then he ohs, and tugs the tarp off,
revealing not some poor unfortunate, but a stout training dummy, made of steel and artifice on a broad foundation. "It
is as good as any for this one," he says.
Aya ahs and nods as the cargo is revealed. "I presumed too much. Yours would not have been the first corpse cart to
pass this way, nor would I expect it to be the last, if it were."
Azog shrugs, heavy paudrons grating. "I suppose not," he says thoughtfully. "I do not know about the progress of the
cure for the plague. I am no wizard, nor priest, I do not deal with such things, though it frustrates me that they
have thus far been unsuccessful at ending it."
"Nor am I, and I have little faith in either," Aya admits with a partial scowl, "but I hope that they can prove me
wrong in this case. I have heard that it can afflict even those immune to curses and disease, and that is a terrible
concern." She steps away from the wooden dummy and towards Azog, cart, and the apparently more sturdy target. Perhaps
in a change of topic, she gestures to the last. "Is that to replace those here, or a special request?"
Azog shrugs about having little faith. "They do make little effort to create confidence in their skills," he admits.
"But their track record so far implies that a solution will be found eventually. As I understand, it is a magical
thing rather than an actual disease, which is why the paladins, and others who would normally be immune, are
succeptible." He grumbles a bit about magic. That seems to cause more problems than it solves. "This? No, it is a
special thing. It actually evaluates how hard you hit in a certain amount of time. So you can see how much you're
improving and rate different techniques."
Aya nods with the grumbling and remarks, seeming to be of similar opinion. The response to the other topic piques her
interest far more, however, a brow arching. "Is that so? That would be quite interesting, not to mention useful..."
She seems to consider some of the possibilities, herself, for a moment. "Do you know who crafted it, and how well it
functions?"
Azog arches a brow as the device piques Aya's interest, and he says, "I know quite a lot about it, since it was my
idea, and the Professor is the one who built it." No telling who this Professor is, though it's rare enough for Azog
to speak respectfully of anyone, much less a non-fighty person. "As to how well it functions, it works fine for me."
"I'm inclined to request one of my own," Aya notes as she glances to the device. "The common dummies," a hand gestures
back towards the field, "offer no feedback, nor are they threatening in any way. I've discovered very few live
partners who are much improvement, and most who are willing are as unable to comment after several blows as the clumps
of wood and straw. This," she nods to the device, "seems to be more sturdy, and more informative."
Azog nods gravely at the limitations mentioned. With his size, one can imagine he's hard on targets. "There is
adamantine steel in some places," he explains. "I can strike it as hard as I like and have not damaged it. Would you
like to try it?" he asks. "I can set it up for you without too much effort."
Aya arches the other brow at the offer and then nods. "I would enjoy the opportunity. I will take care not to damage
it."
Azog will hop up into the wagon-bed, then, and heft the hevy device, grimacing as he walks it to the edge and sets it
down. The wagon creaks dangerously with the load off-balance. He will hop down, grab the thing by a set of handles
lower down, and GRRRR as he hefts it up off the wagon and sets it down on the earth. Panting a bit, and flushed, he
reaches into the helmet-armor of the figure, flipping up the faceplate and flips it On. He looks at Aya thoughtfully
for a moment, then sets the resistance.
Azog then says, "When this gem goes green," he points to a gem for the left eye, "you begin attacking. For about two
minutes," which will preclude the use of most limited use skills, "when this red one lights," he points to the other
eye, "it has stopped recording."
Gareth has arrived.
Azog is here with Aya in the training area, by the fighting dummies. He has a cart with him, from which he's just
unloaded a fairly complicated looking artifice-powered training dummy, and he's been explaining to Aya how it works.
He's just fiipped it on for her to hit.
Aya watches the set up, even if it is not especially technical in nature. That portion was obviously handled by the
creator; this Professor mentioned. She nods as she listens, stepping around the target at a radius of several steps'
distance while studying it. "Two minutes," she repeats to confirm before coming to a stop before it, still at a
distance, There she watches the left eye and waits.
The moment it alights, she moves... or does not? With a momentary splash of shadow-wisps, she ceases to stand where
she was and appears behind it, already lashing out with a blow to would might be a kidney. As she continues rotation
of her body with the follow-through into a crescent kick, she vanishes again to appear opposite and land the kick at
its chin. This relocation continues for another second, and several more blows before her movement is wholly mundane.
Combinations of instep, fist, elbow, knee, heel, and shin are utilized in quick, flowing succession as she (now
slowly) circles the target she seeks to pummel. At one point, the rotation reverses, prompted by the reversing spin of
a roundhouse kick, while the blows continue. Some patterns are likely repeated for efficiency of motion and muscle
memory, but she does vary the sequencing throughought. By the time the other eye lights red, is noted, and she finally
comes to a halt, her body and breath are heaving, and knuckles battered.
Azog watches Aya's display of martial skill with an appriasing eye. When she's complete, he peers at, then points out
a display of glowing gas tubes in which numbers are present as glowing filaments, showing a final result of '24.5'.
Azog looks quite impressed. "That's an excellent score. I think you surpass most warriors who might try it."
Coming into the training grounds with a bow over his shoulder, a quiver, and his customary quarterstaff, Gareth stops
and blinks as he see's the fighting going on against Aya and the artificier creation. Frowning, his eyes linger on Aya
for a moment before he shakes his head and moves a bit further into the training area, keeping his distance from the
Mul'niessa. Naturally, Azog does get a glance or two due to his massive stature, however he doesn't seem to attract
the same wary looks that Aya does. Instead, Gareth goes to sit a small distance away, pulling out a pipe and the young
man reaches into his bag to pull out a book while he waits.
Seldan has arrived.
Aya inhales deeply to catch her breath. "That was more strenuous than expected, but invigorating. There is much more
intermission in most practice routines, and sparring, or even combat, does not last so long as that." She nods to Azog
at the number noted, though she has no context for the value until he expounds. His assessment sounds accurate, though
she is, of course, biased.
Gareth has just entered and set up a small distance off.
Azog nods gravely to Aya, and says, "As you get stronger, and as you learn different techniques, you will be able to
compare them with one another and see which is bet i which situations." He turns the one knob up one, and draws his
own sword. He activates the dummy and absolutely pounds on it. He doesn't move from the spot, his is a fairly static
style, but the swordboows ring out clearly. He doesn't go nearly as fast as Aya, but when he's done, his final score
reads '39.6'. Azog's assault on the machine lasts about two minutes.
A fair afternoon has the warriors of the city out in force, it seems. Seldan is no exception to this, and the sounds
of steel on practice dummies is familiar enough as he enters the festival grounds. His plan here today is a bit
different, though his sword is on his belt as always, and his cloak is pulled closely around him. He is closer to
Gareth as he enters, though, and pauses to watch the man. The artifice crash test dummy gets a long look and a raised
eyebrow, but he does not yet comment or call over to the pair clearly engaged.
His book out. Gareth is reading it for the moment while he takes a smoke from his pipe. His head tilted downwards to
read, nonetheless he does glance up at occasion to watch the pair, curious about how well Aya and Azog can fight.
There is something artistic about it, after all. Glancing to Seldan as he comes in, Gareth inclines his head,
politely, before turning back to reading and watching the fighting.
Aya takes the time to stretch her limbs while Azog strikes the device with his weapon, though she still observes the
process. "That is a significant result, I presume?" She asks Azog. "Is it what you expected?"
Azog nods about it being strenuous. "Most fights don't last so long," he agrees. "The amount of hurt you laid out," or
that he did, "would flatten a company of soldiers or a couple dragons, I imagine." He shrugs as to whether it's
significant. "That, I am not sure of. I intended it mainly so I could compare the effectiveness of various techniques.
Interestingly, I learned that putting more effort into hitting hard vs hitting well is not hugely effective against
hard targets." So, no more Power Attacks for him. He looks to the others, and will call Seldan and Gareth to join us,
if they will. "Let us see how it works for them?"
Aya's attention is drawn to the pipe-smoker by Azog's words and she makes a casual beckoning gesture with a hand. "The
grounds are open to all, so far as I know... and so long as no one coughs heavily in my direction."
Looking up as the strange orc calls him over, Gareth blinks once, before tucking his book away as well as tapping out
his pipe so that its not burning inside his cloak, before standing up. Walking towards both Azog and Aya, he tilts his
head before looking towards the bot, and then back to them before putting his hands in his pockets. "Uhh, yea?" He
offers quietly as he frowns but looks between the two, and then towards Seldan, before stating quietly, "Gareth."
Surprised, Seldan looks over at the book-reading man, and strides over to join the pair. "An impressive thing," he
remarks, surveying it closely. He speaks with a fairly strong Myrrish accent. "I think you in no danger here, my
lady," he adds to Aya, eyes still on the contraption. "How does it work?" Only when Gareth introduces himself does he
do the same. "Seldan Padaryn."
Azog smirks at not coughing heavily. He nods vehemently at that. "I am Azog, of the Lightning Maul tribe," he
introduces himself to Gareth and Seldan. Though perhaps he is known by reputation? He is a fixture at the Temple of
Angoron and often busy around the city when there's an opportunity to show off his strength. "I have had built," he
says of his fighting dummy, "a device which will tell you how effective various techniques in your fighting are."
Nodding, Gareth frowns as he looks between the Sildanayari and the ourch, before he tilts his head. "Why the lack of
coughing?" he asks curiously, before glancing towards Seldan and inclining his head. And then he puts his hands into
his pockets, and looks towards the device before saying quietly and slowly, "I am not exactly an... Apt fighter,
unfortunately, and would prefer to not have my skills tested by such a device, although I thank you for the offer?" he
states as he glances back to Azog. Gareth has heard of the man a couple of times, however he is not the most
knowledgeable of others.
Victor has arrived.
"Aya," she notes simply, as introductions are made. "There is a plague swirling about the city. I'd prefer not to
become ill."
"Even so?" Seldan crosses his arms across his chest and studies the device, clearly intrigued. "Valuable for improving
one's technique, and one's strategy, both. My swordwork is done for the day, but perhaps-" He trails off, then tilts
his head at Gareth appraisingly. "It is always well to learn where one stands, and where one might improve. Unless
strength of arms is not your skill?" He nods silent agreement with the mul'niessa. "The plague swirling about the city
is a scourge and a danger. You do not want it, and as it is not truly a disease, none are immune. You do not want it."
Azog laughs as Gareth declines, and he says, "Do not feel pressured. But. Part of the cleverness of this device is
that I can calibrate it for your level of skill." He does turn the setting all the way down. "The Dragon Scale goes
from White Wyrmling to Red Wyrm, I can set it so that even I have trouble making it register." He peers at Gareth,
says, "I think it may even work as an archer's target, though I cannot say how it will account for range. You may want
to shoot from closer in." As to how it works, he says to Seldan, "You will have to ask the Professor. You may finf him
at the Temple of Garganos Behemoth," that is, Angoron. "It was he who built it. With some advice and calibration from
the wizard Mikilos." He asks Seldan, "If you would like to give it a try?" He will flip a switch. "When the eye glows
green, start hitting it. Do not stop until it is red."
Victor wanders along the outskirts of the training grounds. The sight of the training contraption is unique enough to
draw his attention. He approaches and then stops a half-dozen or so paces away. "Greetings. That seems an unusual form
of training. Would it be all right if I observe?"
Seldan grins suddenly, and removes his cloak, tossing it over a nearby fence. Oddly, he is shirtless beneath an open,
sleeveless robe in blue and silver, embroidered with celestial symbols and creatures, but makes no comment as he draws
his sword. "Very well, begin," he nods to Azog once he has assumed a ready pose.
Azog gestures for Victor to gather around, and he nods, "By all means, come observe. You may test yourself, if you
wish," he says, "Once he's done," and here he getures to Seldan, just squaring up. He activates the device and steps
away. A few moments later, a gem in one eye lights green, and Azog says, "Begin."
Taking a step or two back, Gareth clears his throat before he shrugs. "No, I do not have many... Skills with arms. I
do, however, prefer to practice my archery when I can on occasion." He states, nodding once as he gets out of the way
of Seldan so that Seldan can get a work out, and Gareth can watch quietly and curiously even as he keeps his distance
and leaves his bow on his back. However, he does hear a familiar voice. Glancing over towards Victor, Gareth's eyes
focus on him before he offers a very small smile and starts striding towards the war golem.
Aya steps away from the training device and looks to Gareth, glancing briefy to his bow and back. "If you'd prefer a
more mobile target, I could oblige? I don't provide ratings or assessments like the device."
On the cue, Seldan sets himself and begins to strike. His style is clearly formally taught, his footwork balanced and
schooled, but could use more practice. He does have plenty of power, though by the time the eye turns red and he's
stepped back, there is a fine sheen of sweat on his skin, and he breathes deeply with exertion, lowering the blade and
staring at the thing, waiting expectantly.
Azog's device, when Seldan is done, displays the digits, '5.5' in the small display, glowing wires shaped like numbers
inside small glass bubbles. Azog nods, and says to Seldan, "Of coure the machine is not evil, so it cannot tally how
hard you would fight against such a foe. That would much improve your score, I think. It is not perfect." He says to
Victor, "If you would like to try, just step up, wait for the light to go green, and keep hitting it until it goes
red."
Victor moves forward until he's within striking distance of the device. He shifts his feet slightly into a boxer's
stance and clenches his fists - one hand in particular features seams and almost imperceptibly raised panels, that may
indicate a gauntlet that has been bonded to that appendage. He watches the light carefully, waiting.
Seldan nods at the score, frowning a little. "I will need to spend more time with the blade." He steps back and out of
Victor's path, sheathing his sword and walking over to retrieve his cloak from the fence nearby. This his slings back
over his shoulders, retreating to a safe distance to watch as another takes their turn.
Azog watches as Victor steps up, and the light goes green. "Hit it," he says, and will watch as the hitting happens.
He says to Seldan, "I think also your other pursuits have distracted from your martial focus. You have other skills
because of that, but the device does not measure those."
Looking to Aya as Victor walks past, Gareth frowns slightly as he tilts his head, before nodding once, keeping his
hair carefully obscuring his ears. He does, however, have a mix of elvish features to go with his human ones, if Aya
looks... Llyranesi, perhaps? Either way, he pulls his bow off his back and then pulls out an arrow, taking a couple
steps to the side as he looks at Aya, and asks quietly, "You sure you can dodge or hit an arrow out of the air, Aya?"
he asks quietly as he looks at her.
Victor swings away, always striking with his gloved hand. The blows begin with a series of quick jabbing punches. Then
he shifts so that the other side of his body is forward. The next blows consist of slower hooks and a few uppercuts
now that his right hand is farther away from the target. All in all it is an efficient style that takes advantage of
his reach and strength, but is predictable. It probably works fine against the occasional monster that slips into
close range, but would be easily countered by monks or any crafty warriors.
"The robe has proven difficult to master," Seldan agrees, watching Victor work, the cloak settled now firmly around
his shoulders. "Nevertheless, there is still room to improve, and much of the rest of it is now settled. My thanks for
the information, a very enlightening contraption."
Aya nods to Gareth. "I can. If not, then I will know that I must train harder."
GAME: {Wazoo} Gareth rolls weapon3: (11)+4: 15
When Victor is done, his final score reads: '3.6'. Azog nods slowly, thoughtfully. "You are just beginning your
training, I think. Each new technique you learn will cause yoru score to increase," he says. He nods to Seldan, and
says, "Any of you may come by the Temple and test yourself again to rate your progress."
Nodding, once, to Aya, Gareth reaches back and pulls out an arrow, settling it into his bow and then raising it,
sighting carefully at Aya, drawing back in a single, smooth motion, aiming at her, before he releases the arrow,
letting it fly at her even as he frowns and tilts his head, watching to see if she dodges it or slices it out of the
air, even as he glances towards Victor and the machine, and Azog as he makes that offer. Even so, he glances back to
Aya and raises an eyebrow.
Aya does not sidestep the arrow, though perhaps she could if she tried. That is not the nature of the test. Instead,
she steps into the shot and waits for it to nearly strike before batting it out of the air.
Victor nods as he listens to Azog. Then he steps back until he is at 'observer' distance again. He looks at the
training device once more before turning his attention on Gareth and Aya. Another sight you don't see every day on
these grounds - archery practice against a live (though willing) target.
Seldan nods his understanding to Azog. "I shall, but I should return to the temple. My time grows shorter than I had
thought. "My thanks for the challenge." With a nod and a small wave to the others, he turns and exits the festival
grounds.
Seldan has left.
Glancing towards Victor when he is done, Gareth looks back towards Aya, offering a slight grin even as he inclines his
head. "That was... Good." He states, obviously surprised by her skill, before he pulls out another arrow and aims for
her, drawing back even as he calls out to Victor, "So, we never got a chance to finish business discussions the other
day, Victor." he states as he draws the arrow back, and then lets it fly at Aya so that she can slice it out of the
air.
Azog bids Seldan farewell, and, with Victor, turns to watch Gareth shoot at Aya. Then he takes a deep breath, wraps
both arms around his test dummy, and heaves it into the cart he was using to haul it. He climbs up into the cart, gets
the load centered, and pulls the tarp back over it. He will also bid farewell, and lug his cart off southward.
Aya arches a brow as Gareth looses another. Once again, she awaits it, and once more she slaps it aside with a palm
strike. What follows, however, is different, as she ceases to be where she stood. "It would have been polite to be
certain I was prepared before loosing," she notes, now standing behind him, "though I suppose a true adversary would
not do so."
You go OOC!
====== Ongrid Map: +map (see +help map) || ! = RP OK! (see +help who) ======
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=(* A10: Temple District *)=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
The air of solemn, heavy divinity in the area is often broken by laughter. The dual presence of the deities
Althea and Daeus, man and wife, stand towards the center, with their children and their children's temples positioned
around them. The presence of the divine is felt not only by their temples, but also by the actions of their
worshipers. The great plaza is as a social center, paved in brilliant, white flagstones and covered in benches and
sitting areas. Priests, acolytes, and servicefolk of all stripes roam the plaza, going from one task to the other.
At the front of the temples of Daeus and Althea, at the Plaza's centermost point, rests a great fountain,
the cheerful waters reflecting the Sun during the day, and the Moon and Stars at night. The fountain is strategically
centered, and is oft a place for wisdom and lesson-giving. It is not uncommon for a priest of some stripe or the other
to stand there, surrounded by the curious and faithful, delivering messages of hope or contemplation. At other times,
it and the plaza become a landscape of celebration of the holy holidays.
Few vendors are seen in the plaza--the nearby temples provide most food or services. Towards the west, the
great Bridge stretches across the river, and towards the east, the Redridge mountains. The plaza rests in the midst of
it all, the temples massive and grand on the Alexandrian scale.
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Azog A huge male orc with long black hair in a topknot. 0s 10h
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Temple of Tarien (TAR) Temple of Serriel (TSE) Temple of Gilead (TG)
Temple of Eluna (TE) Temple of Daeus (TD) Temple of Angoron (TAN)
Temple of Althea (TA) North (N) Bridge (W)
Up Mountain Road (NE)
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Erendriel has arrived.
Erendriel is a young half-Llyranesi woman. Characteristically fair skin almost glows in the right light,
contrasting with her long hair. That hair is mostly black, except for tips which grow pale are a faint red at the tip,
and tied in a simple ponytail behind her pointed ears. In front, her red-fringed bangs are held back by delicately-
engraved silver circlet.
Definitely shorter than the average human, barely five feet tall, she was not endowed with size from her human
side. Her build is also very slim, apart from hips keeping her from that dreaded 'boyish' tag. Her eyes are a golden
color, fiery bright, and her pink lips have a brightness of their own without any adornment. Her nose small but her
mouth slightly large.
Her clothing shows the rewards of time spent in danger: wide, round goggles strapped across her forehead and
brown boots are her primary accessories. Fitted somewhat trimly on her body is a shimmering silk gown, covering her in
a blazing red-orange sheen from neck down, leaving her calves exposed from the knee, and her arms from the elbow to
her beige calfskin gloves. The gown is held in place simply by a leather belt with a large, silver buckle.
Over the gown on her torso is a chain shirt made of fine links of mithral. On her back is often a red-dyed
leather backpack. When her sleeves allow it, a scar in the shape of a snowflake is visible on the inside of her right
upper arm.
Carrying:
MyLists
Hun'rar has arrived.
Hun'rar stands a few inches over 6 feet tall with broad shoulders, noticeable even under his armor. His skin is a dark
mahogany and his face broad but with sharp angular features, his eyes an emerald green. His black hair is plaited
tightly to his scalp and ends in a long braid that trails down between his shoulder blades. He wears a set of heavy
full plate with dark red enamel and brass trim. The pauldrons are especially large, shaped like two dragon claws
clutching his shoulders. Over his broad chest piece he wears a black open robe that goes to his knees with dark red
dragons and flames embroidered along the trim.
Hanging from a thick belt is an armored skirt of dark leather strips full of iron studs. His legs are fully
encapsulated in dark red steel armor with two claw like protrusions on the front corners of his grieves. From his
shoulders hangs a dark floor length brown and black cape of wyvern skin, the ends of it appearing singed and ragged.
His helmet fully encapsulates his head, leaving only a T-slot for his face with sharp angular cheek guards that come
to fang-like points. Additionally it has large overlapping armored scales starting at his forehead and running along
the crest, getting smaller and smaller and connecting to scale shaped plates over his braid, giving the impression of
a dragon tail.
He wields an especially long bastard sword that hangs at his hip set with blood red garnets in the pommel and
crossguard along with a broad steel shield styled as an open dragon wing.
Despite his appearance he has an easy going pace, smiles often with his helmet off and exudes a literal aura that
removes all fear in his presence.
Azog is out in front of the Temple of Angoron with his Improved Artifice-Driven test dummu. There is a small crowd
wathing as Azog is wailing on the thing with his glowing sword. Even his mighty smacks don't shatter the target, and
at the end, his score is displayed. There are two numbers.
Seldan has arrived.
Erendriel is coming from the Temple of Eluna, and zapping rocks in the cooling weather, she happens to walk by the
Temple of Angoron on her way. Seeing Azog and his test dummy, she joins the crowd, coming closer to watch. "Oh is this
the thing that...?"
Hun'rar comes walking from the temple of Gilead with a concerned look on his face, wearing a heavy cloak over heavy
robes instead of his usual armor. Seeing Azog practice on his new dummie though he makes his way over to watch his
strikes, even in his dour mood he enjoys watching someone so utterly master the bastard sword, even against a training
dummy. "Looks like it works."
Over by Eluna's temple, there seems to be a gathering at the front entrance, a mix of people clad in white and gold
and people clad in blue and silver. All wear full plate armor, with heads bared, and among them is a familiar unkempt
mop of reddish-blonde hair, pinned by a headband that seems to be made of clusters of something joined together by
thin silver and steel. The figure is one of the ones clad in blue and silver, and as two of them departs, Seldan takes
his place by the front entrance with another of the people in the conversation.
Azog nods to Hun'rar and Erendriel, "Yes, and yes. This one is a little revised. I had a suggestion, and the professor
was able to make it work." He points to the second readout next to the first. It is labelled 'Dragon Rating'. The
other is labeled 'Raw Score' now. "This will be a bit of a leveller between people at various skill levels, I
believe."
Erendriel approaches Seldan, and giggles "Hi. Guess what? I put in an order for a Starknife today." She then nods to
Azog. "That's really great. I hope it helps you out." Hun'rar gets a wave as well. "How are you feeling?"
Hun'rar nods to Azog "Interesting, quite the device." he notes before flashing a forces smile at Eren and Seldan
"Doing fine, time at the temple always has a way of adding clarity and focus to things. Good on you with the
starknife." he notes to Eren. "Hopefully it proves a useful weapon."
Seldan is still a bit of a distance from the Temple of Angoron, and seems to have assumed a guard post for Eluna's
temple. It appears that the conversation near the entrance was a guard change, and that Seldan is now on duty. "Good.
I hope that it serves you well, should you ever have need," he tells Erendriel, inclining his head to Hun'rar as well.
He's spotted the training dummy from yesterday, but the Temple of Angoron is too far for him to approach, and he's
watching Hun'rar instead. Interestingly, he has also changed - since when did Seldan wear full plate? And yet, he
seems to know how, and is comfortable in this heavy steel set with the crescent and sphere of Eluna on the
breastplate.
Azog arches a brow about a starknife. He nods his head about his device being great. "It has already helped someone
shore up a weakness in his technique," he explains proudly. He nods at what Hun'rar says and turns to see what's going
on at the Temple of Eluna? He offers a sort of half-wave half-salute to Seldan, who he recognizes. It's a bit far
except for shouting, but he suggests to Hun'rar and Erendriel, "Since he cannot come over here while he's on duty, we
could go over to there?" He will lead the way. A couple of the spectators take turns on his machine, which is what
it's out there for.
Erendriel ends up running back and forth and back again, this time with the others. "Seldan," she smiles. "You've been
shopping too. Look at that. You have to be strong even to wear that!" Hun'rar and Azog she giggles too. "I have no
idea if I'll ever use it. Getting that close seems... dangerous."
Hun'rar nods to Azog "Would it be possible to have a go at it myself? Perhaps when your done with the dummy. If it
increased your skills I am sure it can do wonders for mine versus those stray and wood ones I usually practice my
srikes against." he notes curiously. "So it measures how hard you hit then?"
Seldan watches in confusion as Erendriel runs back and forth, and does not have time to answer her before she runs
back, so he instead looks over at his companion on duty. "She is - excitable," he explains. The two share a chuckle,
and both turn to watch the goings-on around the training dummy. Seldan, though, frowns as he watches Hun'rar, the
unusual attire for the Warden, and something else. He does not speak yet, only watches.
Azog snorts at Erendriel, "Of course it's dangerous. That's the point." Azog's slightly skewed martial philosophy. He
ohs, and nods to Hun'rar, turning back just as the oen spectator is finishing up and reviewing his scores. He says to
Hun'rar, "Yes, basically. It's a bit more involved, so I am told, but then the explanation gets a bit deep. But. You
can step up here, and when this light goes green," he points to a gem in the mannikin's left eye, "Give it all you
have for about two minutes. When it changes to red, you're done and can read out your score. The score is now in two
parts. The first is the average strength per hit. The second, the Dragon Eradication Dial, indicates how many dragons
you might have slain. The type of dragon is based on this dial over here."
Erendriel listens to the shop talk between Hun'rar and Azog, and smiles. "Well, there's dangerous..." She shoots a
rock to make her point. "And then there's dangerous.." She then holds up her arms over her head and whines.
Hun'rar chuckles lightly at that. "There are all kinds of weapons one can wield, sword and steel, fire and ice. If I
had my gear with me I would take up the offer to practice, I have wondered how hard a blow would be from my sword with
a spell stored in it, when I strike I can release the spell on impact." he carefully. "A wonderful marriage of magic
and steel."
Azog eyes Hun'rar and sighs. "Well, if you can do that every hit for two minutes, it may work, but I expect it won't.
It measures hits, not any of that sissy magic business." He sighs a bit sourly. "This device isn't quite that good, at
least not yet. It can only tell how hard it's been hit. The fact that I don't cut it in two after a few hits is pretty
good, -I- think."
Erendriel is still listening along, but then when Azog goes in that direction, she giggles. "I'll just watch then.
Becuase well, yeah."
Hun'rar laughs "No I have to pause to recast a spell into my weapon after every hit but magic or no. Still it will
have to be another time as I do not have my sword on me. Have you had others try it out? Perhaps Eren will try it when
she gets her new knife?" he suggests with a smile.
Azog nods to Erendriel. "Allright. If you're training with weapons, it might not hurt to give it a go, though. Just to
find out what works and what doesn't." He arches a brow at Hun'rar, and asks, "Why do you not have your weapon? The
forces of evil may attack at any time. I have seen it."
Erendriel giggles to Azog. "Fair enough, thank you. Probably won't even register though..." The then turns to Hun'rar
to see how he'll answer Azog's question to him.
Hun'rar grins "Why magic of course, I am the Dragon Knight." he holdsup his hands and his fingers lengthen into talons
briefly before turning back to regular hands "My magic and fire will keep me safe."
Azog hrmphs at Hun'rar. "Well, that's not a thing that's possible for regular folk. Steel and sweat and effort to
succeed and fight on amid adversity is what drives mortals." He seems to be unimpressed by Hun'rar's transformation.
To Enendriel, he says, "You may start attacking it when the eye goes green." He'll flip a switch and step away, and a
few moments later, the eye indeed goes green.
There's another discussion at the front of Eluna's Temple, as a third person comes out of the front entrance. This one
carries on for a good minute or more and ends in Seldan nodding his understanding. The newcomer hands Seldan a sturdy
blue cloak that will be familiar to those who know him, and the paladin steps away, allowing the newcomer to take his
place at guard duty. A few last words, and Seldan slings the cloak around his shoulders as he jogs clatteringly down
the stairs and over towards where the others stand. "Good afternoon," he greets the group. "A small mixup in the guard
schedule," he explains. "_Alacha_."
Instantly, the clattering steel armors that he wears begins to - fold up on itself. It shrinks smaller and smaller,
plates and panels disappearing into impossibly small places, centering around his throat area. When silence resumes
and the effect is complete, the armor is no more, and a heavy steel cloak clasp in the shape of Eluna's crescent-and-
sphere pins his cloak at his throat.
Erendriel is completely distracted from the melee shop talk by Seldan's arrival. "You really WERE shopping. What was
that?" She well, points at where his armor was, and gawks. "That was wild. So that's how you expect to use magic while
wearing that... I see! Very smart."
Hun'rar grins as he watches Seldan "Well that is one way of doing it, hadn't considered that before. Transforming into
a dragon is how I get rid of armor for casting, though I can see that being a bit more usefull as it lasts a bit
longer." he notes, impressed.
Azog peers at Seldan as his armor does that. "That was strange," he declares. "Not the guard schedule, the thing with
your armor. Why do you do that?"
A grin spreads across Seldan's features. "A brilliant idea," he agrees. "One of my brethren shared this with me, and
aided me in arranging its crafting. It is folding plate. Its enchantment is minor, but can be strengthened when I have
the coin to do so. It goes where armor may not be permitted, and it can be called at will, but does not hinder me in
the casting of spells, in flying, or in anything else where normal armor would hinder my movement. I can fold it
should I fall into water, for instance." He looks down at the clasp. "It will not unfold if I wear any other form of
armor."
Erendriel claps a little bit. "That's really great for you." she nods to Seldan. "That and turning into a dragon, both
very interesting. I just wear what armor I can without having trouble, and that's it."
Hun'rar shakes his head "Well there are different tricks to achieve the flexibility to cast and wear heavy armor.
Swordplay and heavy armor are my first pursuit but I also could not deny the magic in my blood, as it appears much the
same for you." he nods to Seldan.
(Azog departs.)
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--(* A10: Temple of Angoron *)--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
Immense. Grand. The temple of Angoron encompasses all of these and yet surpasses them. Built into the
mountain itself and yet left open to the sky, this immense place is structured as though by a massive hand. The
three-quarter wall is composed of massive stone, carved so that it arcs upwards. The fourth wall and much of the
ceiling is left open to the elements, which no child of the Hero should fear.
Massive drums, painted with symbols of victory and battle, line the partially covered area. When played,
which is often, their heavy sounds reverbate off the walls before soaring into the heavens. The pitch is low and
massive, and though while certainly PRESENT, it is not overwhelming. It is merely, at all times, THERE.
In the midst of the grand cavern lies a firepit in front of an altar, a place for boasts, talks, and
friendship. The altar is in the shape of the great Earthbreaker, carved as though just striking the earth, and the
firepit was the result of it. The temple itself lies within sight of the Altheans, the two gods sharing a unique bond.
During the birth of a child, prayers are often sent to the warrior god, for strength and perseverance to this, the
first test of strength to come into the world.
The floor of the temple is simple. There is no marble, no grand carvings: sand fills the simple needs of the
warrior. The massive stone walls are carved, though hewn is a better word, in warrior symbols of all tribes and
cultures. Alexandria's multicultural heritage shines here, with symbols reaching from as far away as Dran, depicted.
EXTRAS: +view
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-- Contents --=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
Azog A huge male orc with long black hair in a topknot. 0s 1h
Erendriel A short, fair ball of fire 1m 2h
Gareth A slender, pale young man with dark hair. 2m 36m
Seldan Red-blonde Eldanar man wearing Eluna's colors and sym 3m 33m
Verna Petite humanoid in bulky gray robes and cloak. 4m 1h
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= Exits -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
Out (O)
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
Erendriel may or may not be disrspecting Eluna, but she's at this very moment wielding Eluna's favored weapon, so does
it balance out? Who cares. She does have a 'loaner' Starknife she's borrowed from a cleric of Eluna though, spinning
it in her hand as she steps to the Temple of Angoron. Her handling of the weapon has grown FAR more competnet, as
Seldan's grueling training sessions have gotten her over the hump and able to use the thing.
Azog is, much to his surprise, attracting a slow but steady stream of curiosity seekeers wanting to try out his new
device. They come in ones and twos, mostly, sometimes drunken sailors blowing off steam, sometimes men at arms
competing for who can get a better score. There's no line just now, just Azog standing by the unoccupied machine,
which is sitting off in a corner of the training area.
Why is Gareth here? He's only asked himself this a dozen times, but Gareth did decide to show up, coming in shortly
after Erendriel, whom he does not know, and he goes to stand over by the wall, more or less in the general direction
of Azog and the machine, pulling out a pipe to light as he watches for the moment, even as he states quietly, "I
imagine I'll be one of the worse at testing this, but I'll give it a go after the lady, if thats okay?"
It might be unusual to see one of the Silver Guard in the Temple of Angoron, but Seldan is clearly here with a
purpose. He trails behind Erendriel as she approaches, greeting Azog with an incline of the head. "Fair morning," he
greets in his Myrrish-accented voice. "I have asked her to try your machine, that I might see where she stands," he
explains.
Civilization. What great things it can accomplish. Science. Art. Ever more efficient and creative ways of killing one
another. The combination of one or more of these is what brings Verna down to thetemple carved into he mountain from
the one which rests further up the same.
Erendriel smiles to Seldan. "I mean I'm not big, so it's not going to be a lot, but I should be able to use it. Better
than I did before against Hun'rar." She then nods to Azog. "Thank you for sharing the machine."
Azog rises to his feet. And when you're seven feet tall, that's a lot of rising. He nods to Erendriel, "I'm glad
you've chosen to use it. I had not anticipated the broad interest, but I am grateful that you share Garganos
Behemoth's," Angorons, that is, "interest in self evaluation and self-improvement. By all means, please make good use
of The Machine. All of you may, in turn."
A momentary glance towards Azog, before Gareth shrugs and remarks dryly from where he stands, "Or, you know, just get
enjoyment out of hitting something with a big stick. We can't all be perfect." he ends with a shrug, glancing towards
Seldan and offering a nod to the man, and then looking Verna over with a slight frown, before he goes back to smoking
his pipe, his quarterstaff hanging off his back and not looking at all comfortable to lean on the wall with, but he
does it absentmindedly as he watches Erendriel unleash what carnage she may on the machine.
"Very well," Seldan nods to Azog. "I suppose it cannot hurt to see where I stand after several days more of practice,
when others have finished." This time, though, he does not remove his cloak, or make any move towards it. His interest
seems to be in Erendriel's practice, and where she stands.
Erendriel giggles. "Thank you," she nods again to Azog. She holds up her starknife as she approaches the machine.
Looking to Seldan as she does so. "Okay, here goes..." She then makes several attacks on the dummy, the quad blade
spinning and moving in her hand, the attacks she makes reflexively moving to 'flank' the attacker, and then come
behind for a finishing backstab.
Azog peers at the display, two rows of glass bulbs with glowing number-shaped filaments. The numbers read a raw score
of 2 and a dragon rating of 0.3. "That's prettoy good for a caster," he allows. He says to Gareth, "Please, by all
means you may test yourself after Seldan."
He glances to Seldan, frowns slightly, before Gareth finally gives a shrug and inclines his head, taking another deep
drag of his pipe while he looks about the church. The number, alas, means nothing to him, however he doesn't know much
about this wonderous machine. And then he looks back towards it, a contemplative frown on his lips as he studies it
with a sudden look of intrigue
Seldan nods slowly at the numbers on the dummy, but during the entire run seemed to be watching footwork as well as
strike positions closely. He said nothing through the run, but nods when she is done, and nods again at the numbers
displayed. "You have improved," he tells her with approval.
When Azog calls him up, though, he nods and draws his own sword in a rasp of leather and metal, then assumes a ready
stance and nods to the oruch. "On your word." There is something subtly different in his stance, in the way his feet
are set, for those who watched him last time.
Erendriel spins the starknife after pulling it out of the dummy. She looks at the numbers. "Dragon Rating 0.2. That's
pretty good since like... I'm not supposed to be able to kill a dragon with just this!" She then bows to Seldan. "It's
all becuase of you, thank you."
Azog nods to Erendriel, and says, "Indeed. You may return from time to time to mark your progress." He nods to Seldan,
and when the gem goes green again, he says, "Begin." The light won't go red for two minutes, which is kind of a long
time for continuous beating, but that's how it works,
He has two minutes. Pulling out a book and reading it while he smokes his pipe, Gareth is leaning against a wall,
standing on one leg, even as he ignores Seldan beating the utter crap out of the machine.
The test dummy is indeed a challenge of endurance and fitness as well as technique and power, but Seldan is equal to
it, and this time a bit more prepared for the long slog. Something is subtly different with Seldan's run this time,
for those familiar with the blade. Someone has had a look at his footwork and technique, and has made some
corrections. His stance requires more power, but is more stable and generates more accuracy in return. By the time the
light goes red again, though, a light sheen of sweat on his skin suggests significant exertion, and when he lowers the
blade, he flexes his arms gingerly.
Erendriel gets out of the way, backing off. She continues to play with the starknife a bit, before hanging it off of
her belt and clapping for Seldan as he does his thing.
Azog watches as Seldan steps up to the machine next and pounds on it when the eye goes green. Two minutes of beating
the machine later, his score is displayed: 5.5, with a dragon rating of 0.8. He nods thoughtfully. "So," he says, "you
have gotten stronger, I think, since the last time you scored a 5.5 on dragon rating 10, and now you do so on 11." He
nods, turns the dial back to 10, and the scores change to 6.5 and 1.0. "This shows your progress."
Azog also gestures for Gareth to take the next run.
When he hears about the scoring, Gareth holds back a sigh, and then tucks his pipe and his book away, pushing off the
wall and pulling his quarterstaff from behind his back, walking forward quietly. The tap, tap, tap of his quarterstaff
hitting the floor marks his progress quietly but easily, and he waits for Seldan to move, looking towards Azog and
nodding, once, holding back a sigh as he does so before he locks his gaze on the machine, moving to a standard two
handed grip as he says quietly, "Whenever its ready."
Nodding, Seldan steps back towards Erendriel, examining the blade's edge for nicks and scratches. Interestingly, there
are none, despite hacking at a test dummy for two minutes. His eyebrows go up, but he sheathes the blade, clearly
satisfied. "I have spent some time with Maester Parmon since last we spoke. He was right, I think." To Erendriel, he
adds, "You are welcome. I am glad to have been of aid. I will teach you as I can, but my Temple duties increase as
well."
Azog will nod to Gareth when the light goes green for him to begin. "Bash it for all you're worth for two minutes," he
explains, having set the Dragon Eradication Dial back to 2 for the youth.
Verna goes OOC.
Bash. Gareth hits the bot several times, perhaps a bit harder then one would expect from his dimunitive frame, however
he is clearly faster then strong... And has no professional training with fighting. Oh, that doesn't mean he wouldn't
do some damage with his quarterstaff, but its not the same kind of power that the others could bring to bear.
Erendriel finds a place to sit, legs dangling as she nods to Seldan. "You're a lot better than I am. What was Parmon
right about though?" she asks, wondering about that comment.
Azog watches Gareth complete bashing the target, and he nods appreciatively. "Well done," he says. The score lights up
as 1.75, but what might be surprising is the second reading: 1.7! "Ah, as I predicted," he says, giving Gareth a
thumbs-up gesture. "Do not slack off in your training," he advises, "And you will do well."
Frowning as he breathes deeply in and out as he stands there, Gareth leans slightly against his staff before frowning
at the numbers, and then looks towards Azog. "Is that, ahhh... A good number?" He breathes out, panting ever so
slightly as he looks at Azog, before looking back to the readings, apparently unsure due to the small numbers before
he looks back towards Azog, still frowning rather intently.
"My stance was unstable," Seldan answers Erendriel, making a gesture and murmuring a few words to clean the sweat off
of himself. "It affected both my footwork and my accuracy. He changed my stance, and it does seem to help." He watches
Gareth work, then the test dummy. "If I might, Azog. Perhaps a different test, that challenges one's endurance as well
as one's skill," he calls over.
Erendriel claps for Gareth. "Swinging a big stick for a lot of damage," she nods approvingly. Then to Seldan. "Oh. So
you have someone training you? That's great."
Azog gives Gareth a nod of approval. "You've done well. Do not let false modesty steal your glory." He hrms to Seldan,
and says, "I'm not sure how I'd set that up. And how much endurance to expect? May as well run laps around the city
and count where people drop?"
He blinks slowly, before a scowl crosses his face, and then Gareth shakes his head. "false modesty my left-..." he
shuts himself up, instead turning to glance at Erendriel, and inclining his head, before he looks back towards Azog...
And then looks towards his quarterstaff, contemplative for a moment, before glancing back towards Azog. "I could...
Possibly do better, if given a few minutes." he states as he turns and starts walking towards where he can sit, his
face contemplative as he ponders something.
"Perhaps simply continue the assault until one slows, or loses accuracy," Seldan suggests to Azog, then turns back to
Erendriel, his expression going more serious. "I have been bid to return to the Temple for a time, and am training
with its weaponmaster. I - do not yet know what is afoot."
Azog peers quizzically at Gareth, offers a shrug at whether the score is just or not. "It's mainly to chart your own
progress. Do not judge yourself against others - everyone is different, and there is no consistent scale between
individuals, as we have seen." He hrms at Seldan, but says, "That may take a long time in some cases. I have been in
some very long fights. Farewell," he bids the man. "And good fortune in your tasks."
With a nod, Gareth decides to stand up and start heading towards the doorway. "Thats a fair point, any I doubt I'll be
of much use in a combat situation as it is. Very well, have a good day, Azog. Seldan. And... miss." he states, before
he starts to leave.
(Scene fades.)