Aching and confused, Tassarion's eyes scan over his body, assessing his condition and identifying the liquid that soaked his legs.
After a moment of recovery, his eyes fall on the journal and tur blue rose that sat atop it. His vision, if that was what it was, still fresh in his mind. Suspicion and hesitation gave him pause where he otherwise might have retrieved them and went on his way.
He considered his options for a long moment before carefully lifting the journal so as not to touch the rose with his skin, and held it in front of him in both arms as he walked outside.
Already suspicious, Tassarion instinctively reels from the magical presence that presses on his mind at first. But his curiosity gets the better of him, and lets the magic wash through and over him.
His eyes narrow and zero in on the fading blood ink as it seeps into the page and disappears. Moments pass as he questions what he saw. Even as he regarded the book in his hand, he saw no magic, yet it had all seemed real. Fearing that some sorcerer was interfering with his mind his gaze again scans the chamber, and his breathing slowed and controlled as he reaches out with all his senses to again confirm that he was alone.
With another press of the quill on his finger, he saturates the quill again with his blood and inscribes a question on the page. "Who are you?"
Tassarion eyed the quill with suspicion now. He could hear nor feel no wind to be had, or see spells woven into either item in his hand. After some consideration, he opens the book again.
Taking the quill again in his hand, he spins it about in a reverse grip and analyzed the tip of the pen. He had no ink, and he had already searched the room. It looked sturdy enough.
He presses the pen into the fingertip of his left index finger until he drew a light droplet of blood and fills it as much as he can without going in too far. Then tries to write his name again in the book in blood.
"How long have I been asleep here?" He heaves with a long sigh, setting the quill delicately up on the page and closing it shut. His eyes roam the unfamiliar cavern, confused but for the fact that he was restless and ravenous with hunger.
Eventually his thoughts would roam through his foggy memory in search of an answer, only to become more and more confused the more he thought about it. None if it made sense to him. The last thing he remembered was his time spent with the elves. His failed duel, and the young girl who he had taken a liking to.
Soon he would wonder where Tonaka had gone after they went their separate ways, and if he had been searching for him all this time, however long it had been.
"Master.." His hand reached instinctively to his belt, and to the hilt of his blade.
Given that it appeared non-magical in nature he could only admire the tome and quill. He'll flip through the pages, front to back before trying the quill despite not having ink and write his name on the first page in Draconic.
Her urgent fear proved to be contagious as when Tassarion comes to he lifts himself from his position on the floor and frantically searches about the room in a vain attempt to find some sort of exit. Frustration and rage threatened his composure as the thought that he could not help her ate away at him.
He did not recognize the symbol upon which he had laid, nor the cavernous space. He had no recollection on how he had got here in the first place, nor how long he had been here. This is where he will use that 21 autohypnosis to memorize it.
He approaches the wall, and inspects it closer for any signs of a secret device to open some door or activate some release of a spell. As he does, he pulls forth his inborn magic that until now must have been locked away in some sort of his being to allow himself both to see and read magic and examines the etched circles on the wall, and the symbol on the floor. Using both detect and read magic.
Confusion marked his face at first, only to grow in severity as understanding hit him. He questioned why he should burden the wolf with his weight when he could carry his own.
Perhaps he was over thinking, and he chided himself. This was no mere wolf. Accepting the offer, as it was a chance for a glimpse into what it was capable of, he approached with some hesitation at first. But he would soon find himself climbing into the beasts shoulders, and curling his body downward as to not put the wolf off balance in flight.
Tassarion will stride forward out the door and pause before the gates of the city. He hoped he could return, some day, and that the city still stood when he did.
He thought of the Lieutenant and his men, the man he had nearly killed and the mysterious monarch behind their castle walls.
"If I were a King, all my people would feel the warmth of my hearth. Not the cold of my shadow."
With that, he would look for the wolf, and depart for the forest.
Impatience gnawed at him. There was a growing fear and desperation building deep within that had never been there before. Doubt crept along in the back of his mind as he returned the book, closing it with a thump.
There had been so much death and pain in the little time he had been here. Since he had left home. An ache in his chest brought his hand up to clench at his silken shirt as he yearned to return. To leave behind the pain and doubt.
But some part of him knew, or suspected that he would not return. How could he? Hunger and curiosity would drive his kin to wander as he did. To discover the world around them. He must prepare the world for their arrival as best he can. For the safety of his unborn brothers and sisters, and for the masses of men and women living here on the material plane. If this group is not stopped, there would be war.
He shook his head, driving his demons back to the dark depths of his mind and took a deep breath.
I wonder how the men here will remember me in the years to come..
"I intend on going with this wolf, to learn what I may of it and see why it is still following us. Then to the elves, wherever they reside. I do not blend, here and while I would like to stay and learn this city's secrets I would not bring more violence to this place. Until a time that these killers learn to fear me, or have a change of heart."
Tassarion halts in the air, hovering over the forest floor torn between chasing this apparition and turning back to check on the elf.
The voice irritated him to no end, and rage boiled when the possibility of the elf's death was on him.
He would take a moment to think. His previous attempt he was unsure of his success. But eventually. He would try again to project his words through his mind in terse response.
What is it you want with me? Abandon your cowardice, hiding in the shadows behind the weak. Show yourself or be silent.
He would wait for a brief moment for any sort of response before continuing on, paying his respects and grieving his effect on others as he made his way
He spoke in a commanding tone before beginning to almost strafe the Elf as he started forward again. Careful to keep the same distance between them and eventually keep going out of the clearing toward the same direction Tonaka had been going when he lost him. He had tarried here far too long.
Once he was out of sight a ways out, he would transform into his dragon form, carrying his sword carefully in his teeth and if able take flight. Flying high enough to get a better view but staying beneath the forest ceiling.
Unsure of this elf due to his curcumstances, and in extension his behavior, Tassarion only slightly relaxes his stance as to not offend a potential ally, but kept himself ready to move at a moment's notice.
Still holding his readied action.
He then spoke, his tone cautious and he kept his expression carefully neutral. He put aside his suspicions for now. Despite the elfs appearance he was armed, and hadn't exactly hidden himself on his approach. At least not from him."I mean not to offend, but if there are no pressing concerns I really must be going."
Tassarion squared himself off, narrowing all his senses on this one being and remained after some serious consideration in his elven form with sword clutched in hand, resting easily at his side. The point of the blade down low almost to the ground, but in such a way that it did not touch a single blade of the tall grass. His knees slightly bent and his body leaning just foward enough so that he was balancing on the balls of his feet, ready to pounce with his back still straight.
Mechanical stuff. Readied action to 5ft step back if attacked. Perception:1d20 + 13 ⇒ (8) + 13 = 21
He had to assume that, if whoever this was could communicate with him in this manner, then they could detect his presence if not his location.
The tone was clear, but their intent was still obscure. He decided on silence, shifting just slightly so that he could see both into the clearing and also back to where he had come from. Perhaps they would say more and reveal something of their intent to him. Perhaps not.
If not, he would eventually take his first steps into the clearing, keeping up his guard as best he can until he was clearly visible.
He was outraged that he let Tonaka out of his sight. Another failure in his mind. He could only trust in his master to protect himself now.
Coming to the clearing Tassarion would halt at the edge, taking as best cover as he could, peering in to survey the treeline and eventually upon feeling the warmth of this place, look to the sky.
Under no circumstances did he want any more people to die on his behalf. But the question raised another. Could he do anything about it? Would he simply be a liability and endanger his master if he followed? Then the possibility came to mind that if there was one, there may be more. To stand still is to die.
It was too risky to change into his natural form. There was no telling who they were or what they wanted. He followed with only the briefest hesitation, running in pursuit with sword in hand. He would follow his master's lead to the letter, all the while scouring his surroundings with his senses.
He could not see it. Yes, he'd opened up what little defenses he had to try and gain ground but it seemed of little consequence. The gap between their levels of skill was too great.
Nevertheless he would rise to his feet and turn, sword raised before him. Frustration and confusion threatened to corrupt his thoughts. He shook them away, along with the embarrassment and insult to his pride.
He would stand and fight until he could no longer stand. He had given his word. And lives have been lost for the possibility. He would not betray their hope nor their trust.
He decided on trying to time his next strike in such a way that he would hit before Tonaka struck, settling into a rough defensive stance and regaining his focus.
Initiative:1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13Ha! Thought I'd see anyway.
Perhaps he had focused too intently. Or perhaps there was more to Tonaka than he had anticipated. For as he lost his master, the next instant the air shot out of his lungs at the double impact. His eyes and other senses seemingly lagging behind what appeared to be great speed.
A moments lapse brought his sword arm slashing hard from the right directly between him and his master in an attempt to drive him off and regain his footing. Only to arc deliberately toward the man's weapon following an epiphany.
If only I could simply deny him his attacks. Realization and determination struck in unison like a beat of a drum, and Tassarion slashed with all his might at his master's blade. Even should I die, I will leave my mark.
Assuming the sunder attempt is successful, he would leave a long gouge down the length of Tonaka's blade. Doesnt have to be deep, dont imagine it is depending on hardness. Im after the flavorisms. :D
Raw fury and reckless abandon surged within him at the command. With it his dominant hand unerringly found the hilt of his sword, and with it came a focus one would think impossible.
The true training had already begun. Every instinct screamed at him to change into his natural, more powerful form. His rational mind, suppressed by his raging emotions but not quite gone told him he must resist to truly learn. And learning was everything to him in this moment, and every moment henceforth.
He would slowly, intently draw his blade. Raising it to a vertical salute and closed his eyes in a brief moment of reverence. 'If you can hear me in the worlds beyond, may your light keep me, your love guide me, and your strength hold me.'
The woman's last words to him echoed within his mind to the exclusion of all else, and only then would he open his eyes, focusing with every bit of his might on the master that Fate had chosen for him through his sword, which he turned so that the blade faced his opponent and awaited what was to come with an eager, hungry patience like that of the predator he truly was.
He wanted to go back. To fight beside the others, to keep them safe. He wanted to read and to learn. He wanted to rend, thrash and burn.
His hands fell from the table to his knees to grip at them tightly until the knuckles turned white with strain as he visibly took hold of the reins of his wild emotions.
What angered him most, was that they stole from him. They stole from all of them, but from him the chance to know her.
"I want to train until my feet can no longer carry me. I am woefully ignorant of this world and that must be remedied before I make any other decisions. I need to see the world and all its people."
