The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 2)

[Faidth]

@Sembas:

   Archer patiently waits as you accustom yourself to the feel of your new weapons. She, too, has donned her dark leather armor, but has cast aside her cloak for the sake of better mobility. Seeing that you have left Faile out of your actions, she motions to Besnik who begrudgingly lands upon Dennan’s shoulder and watches the match from said perch.

   As you thrust forward with your spear, the tip trained upon Archer’s mid-section, there is a rush of movement, and where Archer once stood is now nothing more than vacant space. You had been prepared to strike her upon the shoulder with the blunt end of the spear, but you find there is nothing there to strike.

   Archer is nowhere to be seen and while you may wonder what has become of her, any mental inquiries into her position are answered with a deluge of arrows. However, rather than being aimed to inflict physical harm upon you, you find that these arrows arc in such a way that all dozen or so firmly embed in the bottom of your cloak, pinning you into position.

   You see Archer standing upon one of the fence posts. Her trusty bow is in hand and there is a faint smile playing across her lips as she anticipates what you might try next.

[Kitharsis]

Archer's disappearance threw him off.  He was ready to jump back from a quick rebuttal, but there was nothing to jump back from...  Until a barrage of arrows pins him to the ground.

Sembas frowns over exaggeratedly as he leans against his stretching cloak.  He thrusts his spear into the ground and unties it from around his shoulders, allowing it to fall behind him.

"I see..."  He says with a smirk and he wiggles the tip of his spear out of the ground.

Crouching down low, he raises his spear in front of his head horizontally.  He springs into action, much faster than before.  With a mighty grunt he launches off the ground, making sure to keep his spear between he and archer.  When he is nearly on top of her he moves the spear to the side and grabs out with his legs, trying to wrap around her waist. 

If he latches on to her he will bend backwards and try to toss Archer back into the ring using his skill in wrestling.  If he misses he'll end up doing a flip and land on the post that Archer was occupying.  His spear is ready to deflect any arrows coming his way by spinning blindingly fast horizontally in front of him.

He was focusing more this time as well, hopefully his golden eyes could keep up with her speed...

[Faidth]

@Sembas:

   You barrel forward to wrap your legs around Archer’s waist, thus attempting to throw her into the ring. However, her lithe body moves with amazing celerity, her form shifting quickly until her body appears almost insubstantial. Though your companions will not be able to see what the huntress is doing, now that you are focusing your attention solely upon your target, you gain better insight into her movements.

   You land gracefully upon the fence post that was previously occupied by Archer and your golden eyes lock onto her fleeing form. She hurtles across the yard, kicking up a cloud of dust as she goes. Three more arrows come your way, but by spinning your spear in your hands, you manage to knock them away from you. 

   However, as your attention has been drawn to deflecting these projectiles, this is the perfect opportunity for Archer to attempt to gain an upper hand. Apparently, these arrows were merely a distraction as you notice her sweeping towards you. She holds a silver shortsword in each hand as she draws closer to you with unfathomable speed.

   She trains the blades towards your torso, but just as it appears her blades will strike home, she diverts her path to your right side and leaps into the air. This does not appear to be much of an attack… until you realize the wake that has followed at her heels. A gust of air knocks you off the fence post and you land hard upon your back.

[Faran Beshral]

The noonday sun shone overhead as I leaned against a wooden post that supported the fence of this sandy arena. I kept my arms crossed and tried to look casual but observant at the same time. Inside I was excited. Finally, some action. Unexpected action, but all the same. 

Beside me stood the dark-skinned mountain of a man: Jonas Philosophy. I was quite surprised to be waking in his company and glad I did not make a fool of myself by landing on my face when he dumped me out of the bed. (The man lifted the whole bed with one hand!) Years of sleeping in my Air Tent had conditioned me to associate falling with wakefulness. It comes in handy now and then.

I reflected on the previous evenings party, glad I could let myself go a bit. I looked on the evening like a normal village festival, albeit the villagers were a little odd in their way. It was difficult to refrain from too much drink, but the need to guard my tongue closely around these Ageless took importance over my own fun-seeking. I was still sore about Dethys invading my private conversation the day before. These Ageless were becoming more and more human to me, but I still needed to watch myself. I had also had the opportunity of having the newest Ageless here pointed out to me. While I hadn't had the opportunity of meeting him officially face to face, Depheir Kogthar was tall and lanky like myself with either black or dark brown hair. He went about hooded in a brown robe with strange markings on it. He looked like another handler of the, “Art” as most people unfamiliar with the Symphony liked to call it. He carried some weapons and I wondered if he knew how to use them.

The waking and breakfasting had been a whirlwind for me and Jonas had said something interesting. I had thought on Jonas a bit during the previous evening and I had an offer for him. I was going to voice this offer but was cut short by the summons to the sparring field. Now seemed like a decent time to ask, but in the company of other Ageless I had to pick my words carefully. I had some things I wished to say, like how I respected his ability to cook more than the abilities of the other Ageless, or how his skills were more important in some ways than tactics or marshaling troops. Too many ears here though. Maybe nowhere was safe to talk But, he mentioned his art gave him focus for his skills. These were skills I could benefit from.

“Jonas,” I said, retaining my aloof body language. “I've been thinking on something. I am impressed by your skills and not just those that make food taste good.” I said eyeing the cleavers that hung at his waist. “You mentioned focusing and honing your crafts in the kitchen. I've been around this world a little, very little compared to yourself and others, but enough to know one thing. Food is a common language among people no matter where they are or who they are. Good food sings to all people. I'm going to need to learn much more if I hope to pull my weight in this war. I'm going to need skills when my Song fails me. I.. wish to be your apprentice, if you'll have me. You may work me as hard as you want, I'm used to a farmer's life and hours.” There. That was as much information as I was willing to say. I needed to learn, and do it quick.

Meanwhile Archer was toying with Sembas, poor bastard. He was really trying hard, but he was outclassed by Archer in perhaps every respect. It seemed today that the new guys would get a sound trouncing to show us how much we needed to learn, to prepare us for combat. I was of two minds on the subject. On the one hand I was outraged that they chose a public forum to humiliate us. On the other hand this was really very important for us. We needed all the pointers and help we could get. The Forsaken would certainly show us no mercy.

Archer had drawn some swords and hurtled toward Sembas at unfathomable speed, only to turn at the last moment and let the shockwave blast hit him instead. My eyes widened slightly. She could have killed him if she wanted to just then... Okay not killed, that whole deathwound thing prevented that, but still! I had figured those two were a bit sweet on each other, but I wondered if Sembas didn't feel a little insulted that she was going easy on him.

I began to wonder if all us “newbies” had to fight today. Maybe Sembas was the first? Or did he request to spar with someone? My anxiety and excitement rose. Did I have to fight? Could I choose who to fight? I wondered how I would stack up against some of these elders. Obviously not at all, but it would give me something to measure myself against. I began to entertain wild and morbid thoughts of being blown to bits by Dethys. I know he wouldn't kill me, but I'd want him to throw all his power against me. If he respected me at all, he would. More than likely he knew all of my tricks. Dethys's “Tome of Knowing What Underpants I'm Wearing Today” more than likely told him the strengths and weakness of all Ageless. Hopefully, today the Tome would give him no answer on me, for I'm not wearing any underpants!

[john greymore]

Dreams of bunnies and rabbits kept Fenwick company as he slept soundly in Cleo's arms, but the dreams quickly turned to nightmares as they died off almost suddenly, caused by an extremely loud bang. He wakes, gasping, but the haze quickly clears off. A rabbit. His dad really did give him a rabbit. But what had he done to it?

Cleo wasn't around, or simply not the bedroom. Fenwick hears the ringing of the doorbell and realises that he had found the murderer of those cute little animals. He mused at thoughts of torturing and destroying a doorbell, after which, he walked out of the bedroom...

...And now, after a quick breakfast, he found himself here, outside a wooden fence. His attention upon arrival was drawn towards Cardack and Hestia. A quick glance told him that no harm of any sort had befallen the precious pages and he breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

They had come for sparring, a one-on-one. Fenwick quickly ran through the spells available to him and realised that he was at a distinct disadvantage without any spells that could actually hurt something. Wasn't his fault, he thought, he didn't know he had to face beings much older and much more experienced than humans. The spells he knew were gravely inadequate.

But he was sure he would win. Just a bit of cunning...

Sembas had taken the challenge first, going up against Archer.

Fenwick could not help but gasp at the speed at which Archer moved. The sharp, elegant movements resulted in Sembas' cloak pinned to the ground and him being thrown back onto the fence. He had heard Faran mention something to Philosophy, but he wasn't listening hard enough to absorb anything.

If he was to face Archer in battle, he would have to learn her moves. He took a deep breath, held it for a while, then let it out. Everything was just a bit more clearer now.

It is with these eyes that Fenwick continues to watch the battle with, his hands tucked neatly away into his robes...

[Kitharsis]

Faile, still on the fence, starts pacing back and forth.  She was getting annoyed with Sembas's stubborn insistence on sparring alone.  Her thoughts came through the bond more clearly than words. 

Sembas barely stopped spinning his spear by the time he noticed Archer sweeping towards him.  Her two shortswords are a worry as he realized he won't have time to dodge both of them.  Thankfully she leaps past him to the right, not attacking at all.  Still prepared to attempt a block from her shortswords from above, the gust of air hits him full on.  The unexpected push knocks him onto his back and he lands with a grunt.  His spear clatters on the ground next to him, having slipped out of his hands upon landing.

Faile stops pacing and is staring intently at Sembas.  He realizes that he won't be able to match Archer by himself, but he doesn't want Faile to get involved.  If she does, then Besnik will probably join in also.  He is worried about him overdoing it on his wing so soon, a thought that puts Faile in a sour mood.

If she wasn't able to physically join in, she'd help him by using her Essence of the Falcon spell. 

Sembas immediately feels a surge of energy.  Faile's presence in his mind comes through in a torrent as she gives him more of her enchantment.  It was like waking up from a haze when she does this.  His eyesight sharpens and he can see the individual stitching of Archer's armor as she leaps away.  His muscles become more powerful and the weight of the world seems lifted.  His reflexes quicken and time seems to almost slow around him.

He leaps to up and with a diving roll snatches his spear.  When he comes to his feet he hops up onto the fence and pushes off into the air.  Smoke is trailing out of his mouth during his short flight.  Upon landing he swings his spear behind him and his mouth erupts in a cloud of flames aimed directly at Archer (Wisdom Spell - Fire Breath).

The cloud won't engulf her.  The edges will merely lick the air in front of her.

As the cloud dissipates Sembas comes charging through the remnants of the flames.  He swings his spear, aiming to whack Archer on the backside with the shaft of it. 

After his little fire breathing trick he knows he'll be in for some pain, so he wanted to get a playful tap in before his head was knocked off his shoulders...

[Faidth]

@Faran:

   Jonas is quiet as you make your request known to him. He absentmindedly drums his fingers upon the handle of one of the cleavers sheathed upon his belt (it is a wonder that anyone could make a belt that large.)

   “Hmm…” His other hand comes to rest upon his chin and he strokes at the stubble as he contemplates his response.

   “Your reputation precedes you, Faran Beshral. Dethys has told me you are not one to willingly accept the tutelage of your Elders. Would you really humble yourself so in exchange for what I have to teach you? To admit that, perhaps, you are not as wise, nor as world weary, as your mind professes you to be? Would you truly take my advice to heart? Or would you scorn it because it is the experience of another and not your own?”

   “You, Faran, are a man who bases a great deal upon his personal interactions with both the world and others, and at times, I believe this is a disadvantage to you. It creates an inherent bias towards those who would help you reach the pinnacle of your abilities. You seek to do it on your own, because this is the only way you know. There is nothing wrong with independence, but much can be gained through the learning of others.”

   “As children, we do not simply emerge from the womb and know how to walk. We must see others do it, and emulate their example. Does this mean that children lack independence and are incapable of their own destinies? Not at all. What it does mean, is that a helping hand can go a long way.”

   “Do you not wonder why you were not granted the invitation of the Bulwark? It is certainly not due to lack of ability. You are easily on par, if not surpassing, your companions. No, the reason you were not asked is because you are not one to simply accept things as they are. You must see the world for yourself.”

   “When the General explains to her recruits how the Bulwark functions and the ambitions of the Forsaken, they accept it as truth. This is not gullibility, but rather, a test of faith. You, Faran, lack faith in what you cannot perceive. To understand the Ageless, we simply could not tell you of our nature...you had to see Avalon for yourself.”

   “Perhaps, one day, the invitation will yet be extended, and perhaps, you will join our ranks. However, know that in asking to be my apprentice, you have already taken the first step towards joining the Bulwark: you have accepted that there are still things you can learn, and thus, you have perceived that I have something worthwhile for you to learn.” 

   “A wise man once said, ‘When the student is ready, the master appears.’ Once Archer and Sembas are finished, let us see if you truly are ready to learn.”

[Faidth]

@Sembas:

   Perhaps Archer underestimated you, or perhaps she lapsed in her defenses. Whatever the case may be, your Fire Breath spell managed to catch her off guard. She stumbles backward in surprise, but manages to maintain her balance.

   However, the end of your spear catches her off guard and she lets out an “Eep!” of surprise as your weapon firmly connects with her backside. She narrows her eyes, and you are correct in assuming she will attempt to make you pay for your antics.

   She shoots a single arrow into the sky, but what began as a simple shot results in a deluge of arrows that seem to multiply even more as they draw near you. You may notice, with dawning horror, that each and every one of these several dozen arrows are making a beeline towards YOUR backside. 

[Kitharsis]

A devilish grin plants itself on Sembas's face as his spear connects with Archer's rump.  The arrow springing into the air fades his grin as he tilts his head in confusion.  She was just standing there after shooting her arrow.  There must be...

His golden eyes widen and his jaw nearly unhinges when he sees the arrow split into dozens more.  Faile lifts a wing over her face and starts laughing.  Sembas's head whips over at her, fear clearly marked in his eyes.

"No, no, no!  Not now!!"  He yells pleadingly at her.  He looks noticeably more tired than moments before.  The smoke is all but gone from his mouth.  Faile lowers her wing and winks at him, before full on laughing, nearly falling off the fence.

Compared to before, he was moving like a slug.  He moves his feet as fast as he can while swinging his spear behind him.  His agonizingly slow footsteps soldier on and try and pull him away from the dozens of arrows.  He was still sprinting as fast as he could, but Faile withdrew her Essence of the Falcon spell. 

If they are mundane arrows, his mix of Athletics skill and Dodge ability should pull him away from the majority of them and he should be able to knock the rest away with his spear.  But if they are magically seeking out his bum, then...  Well lets just say Hestia might need to patch him up in a few short moments...

[Faidth]

@Sembas:

   As dozens of arrows rain down upon you, your abilities in Dodge and Athletics allow you to avoid becoming a walking pincushion. Several of them nick your armor, but none of them manage to damage you too badly.
 
   There is a pause as Archer contemplates her next action, allowing you to see that many of the arrows have embedded in the ground and have perfectly formed the shape of the letter A. There is a low, rumbling sound, and the ground beneath you begins to shake.

   You realize that a single arrow is at the epicenter of these unusual vibrations. The shaft of the arrow rapidly begins to grow upwards, expanding drastically as it reaches towards the sky. The rest of the arrows are unceremoniously tossed aside as the ground beneath them begins to contort and shape itself into a rather large mound.

   Where the arrow had landed is now an enormous weeping willow tree. Before you can effectively reflect upon what is happening. A dozen tendril-like branches snap towards you. Two latch onto your legs, wrapping themselves tightly around your ankles. Two more seize you by the wrists and begin to haul you towards the top of the tree. The rest wrap around your stomach and torso, holding you firmly in place.

   You find yourself suspended by your feet, your body dangling from the uppermost branches of the willow. Faile and Besnik land beside you, both of them incredibly amused at your current state. A single tendril reaches towards your unprotected bum and draws itself away from you in a dramatically exaggerated motion.

   You can hear Archer’s amused voice from below. “Eye for an eye… Bum for a bum…”

   The whip-like branch snaps forward, cracking you sharply on the buttocks. It stings quite a bit, but other tha injured pride, you find yourself no worse for wear.

   The tree begins to recede back into the ground and you find yourself free of your bindings and deposited at Archer’s feet.

   She shakes her head. “My, you’re a fresh one aren’t you? Popping a lady on the bum like that!” She sticks her hand out to you and helps you to your feet.

   “You know I wasn’t going to do that, but you’re a bit sharper than even I thought.” 

[Kitharsis]

Sembas gives a heavy sigh of relief for having not become a pincushion.  Why hadn't Archer followed up with another attack yet?

The rumbling in the ground beneath him answers his question.  As the enourmous willow tree bursts from the ground he gasps as the branches latch themselves around his limbs.  He bites his lower lip as the branch winds up behind him, knowing what was coming.

“Eye for an eye… Bum for a bum…”   Archer chimes from below.

He gives a, "Hmph!"  Before being cracked on the backside by the branch.

“My, you’re a fresh one aren’t you? Popping a lady on the bum like that!”

"Just a bit of jest during a friendly competition."  He says with a smile as he clasps Archer's hand and rises to his feet.

“You know I wasn’t going to do that, but you’re a bit sharper than even I thought.”

"Ha!  Thank you, I guess.  I'm that sharp when Faile allows me to be.  I must admit, that last bit with the fire was done with her help.  I can't do that on my own."  Faile lands on his shoulder and gives a nod to Archer.  "Maybe if I stick around the Bulwark long enough I'll be able to wield our spells by myself.  But for now she needs to give me more of her enchantment for me to be able to breath fire or call down lightning.  But I ramble..."

He offers his hand for a handshake, "It was an honor to test myself against a powerful member of the Bulwark of Heaven such as yourself.  I see I have a lot to learn.  You move faster than I've ever seen.  And I have a feeling that tree was just a hint of your magic.  I am humbled."

[Depheir Kogthar]

Midday.
Depheir Kothgar arrived the sandy arena. He saw the battle between brown-haired falconer and Ageless, which he hadn't met before.
"Falconer..." He recalled in the memory, when Cleo told him about the falconer."His name was... Sembas Filden?"
He sat on the ground, watching the battle and wondering, with who will he fight.
"Perharps with someone much more experienced than me. Or more skilled. Nevermind. It WILL be a tough battle, with whoever will I fight."

[Faidth]

@Sembas:

   Archer accepts your handshake. “You are humbled? Then we are even. I showed you a few new things, and you showed me a few new things.” She winks, an obvious acknowledgment of your performance the previous evening. 

   She elbows you playfully. “In all seriousness, the pleasure was mine, Sembas. I am quite impressed with your abilities, and perhaps, through your continuing work with our people and the Bulwark, you will best me yet. Until then, anytime you would like to be whipped into shape, you need only let me know.”


@Faran
   
   As Archer and Sembas depart from the sparring area and take up positions behind the protective barrier, the mountainous Jonas Philosophy looks down upon Faran with a large smile. He gestures towards the ring and bids you follow. He escorts you to your starting spot and you watch as the human giant lumbers in the opposite direction.

   From across the sparring ring, Philosophy leans upon one of the fence posts that clearly mark the sparring area. He reaches into his pocket and you see him extract one of the long, bamboo skewers that you have seen him use for his delicious kabobs. He begins to prod at his teeth with one of the pointy ends and continues to nonchalantly lean upon the fence.

   The sun is high in the sky and the area is quite warm today. Beads of sweat are already pouring down Jonas’s brow, allowing wet rivulets to flow down his dark brown cheeks. He runs his fingers across his large, white, handlebar mustache and appears to be completely relaxed, despite the fact that he is about to enter combat. Then again, Jonas seems equally unflappable all the time.

   “Well, lad, whenever you’re ready then.”

   It appears that Jonas is allowing you to have the first blow. You get the feeling that you should probably ensure it is worthwhile. Jonas seems to be a man who is not easily impressed, and if you truly desire to be his apprentice, you are going to have to pull out all the stops. In addition, you are intelligent enough to guess that unlike Archer’s treatment of Sembas, Jonas will not be taking it easy on you.

[Faran Beshral]

My pulse was racing out in the sun baked sparring area. Jonas was my opponent? Maybe he knew a little more than me when I asked if he teach me. This wasn't going to be good. I had to remember that I was here to lose, but I had to do the best that I could here. The big man had years of experience over me and right now, facing down the cleavers this man had yet to draw, I was glad I was virtually immortal. I might be missing a few limbs after this was over.

I attuned myself to the Songs around me, ready to use them at a moments notice. Even through the earmuffs they rang clear in my ears. Nice thing about this place, I wasn't limited to how strong a particular song was. I wanted one I couldn't hear though. If I could hop into the next dimension over I could come out at Jonas any way I wanted. As began pacing left and grinning slightly, keeping my eyes on Jonas, my boots crunching in the sand that covered the arena. I began to Sing to the hidden song... (Intelligence: Spells – Song of Dimension)

..and rebounded as if punched across the face. Some kind of electric force stopped me from passing into the next dimension. I was seeing double. I raised my hands to my head trying to steady the world. Of course! The Ageless would have security measures in place to keep people from popping in and out of realities. Why didn't I think of this before!? Sweat popped out of my brow. My guard was down! If Jonas attacked, the only thing I could rely on my own resilience.

((Constitution – Soak) If attacked, Faran's skin turns dark, spotted with points of light like stars in the night sky, in the area the attack hits. This cosmic energy hardens his skin and protects him from damage, like an unconscious point defense.)

[Faidth]

@Faran:

   Your miscalculation results in some degree of amusement for Jonas and you hear the enormous man chuckle from across the sparring area. He shakes his head, leans back upon the fence and discards his skewer/toothpick with a flick of his fingers.

   His hands come to rest upon his belt, and you watch as they close upon one of his cleavers and a chef’s knife. He tosses the cleaver into the air and catches the flat of the blade upon the point of the knife. The cleaver balances perfectly on the tip of the knife and begins to whirl with great speed.

   At first glance, it would appear that he is ready to begin an attack. However, you quickly realize that he has ALREADY attacked. The unremarkable skewer that he flicked towards the ground barrels towards you, expanding rapidly as it careens through the air. It suddenly changes directions and begins to hurtle towards the sky before making a quick descent towards your form. The point nicks the back of your neck, but your Constitution enables you to deflect the damage.

    However, you can feel the point of the skewer tear through the back of your shirt and your pants as it continues downward. Again, a quick change of path on the part of the skewer results in you being swept off of your feet. You are facing the ground and having difficulty determining where you are going. Then you feel the point of the skewer slam into a fence post, effectively leaving you like a boar upon a spit.

   You hear Jonas’s heavy footsteps as the lumbering giant comes towards you. From your position, you can see him flick his fingers again and you feel the enormous wooden skewer turn in such a way that you are now facing upward, towards the sky, as well as Jonas’s amused expression.

   Jonas shakes his head. The meat cleaver is still spinning upon the point of the chef’s knife. A slight movement of his hand causes it to stop and he flips the knife into the air, catching it by the blade.

    “You look like a boar I once knew. Well… I’ll be waiting over here whenever you are done sunning yourself. For the record, you should attempt to be a bit more aware of your environment. Avalon is not the only place surrounded by protective wards. You must know not only your personal limitations, but those in the very earth and sky that surround you.” He taps you upon the forehead with the handle of the knife.

   Jonas makes no move to un-skewer your form. He turns around, heading back towards his leaning spot at the far end of the sparring ring to await your next show of skill.

[Faran Beshral]

I hung securely to a now oversized wooden skewer that had ripped holes in my shirt and the ass of my pants. Not to mention bent nearly double upward. I'm pretty sure I heard someone muffling some laughter somewhere. Pain, I had been expecting. Humiliation, not so much. Luckily my feet could touch the ground. As Jonas walked away I strained against the pole and the fabric of my own clothes, but I couldn't break them. There was also no way to jump high enough to free myself of the pole without using the Song. I was stuck to this pole by my clothes.

A thought occurred to me then. I rolled my eyes heavenward. Well, I've come this far, might as well go all the way. Besides, you can't take dignity away from a man when he doesn't have any left to lose. I quickly unlaced my boots and stepped out of them, the hot sand burning my bare feet. Now the part that was going to suck, but the man HAD humiliated me and I was NOT going to hang here like a spitted “boar”. I unbuckled my belt and stepped out of my pants, my earlier thoughts about not wearing undershorts today was ringing clear in my mind. The pants slumped and dangled on the pole. I threw my arms up and ducked out of my shirt which now slipped down to join my pants.

I was in a crouch now looking at Jonas's back, the newly makeshift clothesline behind me. He was much more subtle than I took him for. I had expected him to come at me with his knives. Lesson learned for the day: always expect the unexpected from these Ageless. I stood up still looking at the retreating man's back. Allow me to be equally subtle, I thought. You won't know what's hit you until it's hit you. I Sang out to the Song that connects all of us. It had a folk-ish twang to it but the notes were all sour, reflecting my intent.

((Wisdom: Spiritual Magic – Song of Man) If the spell succeeds Jonas's immune system is dramatically lowered. There are no visual or tangible effects to this spell and only those with great healing talent (Hestia perhaps) will realize what's happened to him. Cuts suffered will become infected and fester quickly. Any diseases picked up will manifest symptoms within an hour instead of a day The effect will last for days, but individuals with Constitution: (anything) will regain their immune system faster)

I stood now in the baking sun, bracing myself against any reprisal (Con: Soak) and hoping I don't get a full body sunburn out of this.

[Faidth]

@Faran:

   Jonas seems impressed by your tenacity and willpower. As he leans against the fence, he nods approvingly as you manage to maneuver yourself out of your clothing.

   As Faran calls upon the Song of Man, Jonas raises an eyebrow with interest. “A good choice, perhaps, Faran. However, let me let you in on a little secret.”

   On the sidelines, Hestia shakes her head and slaps her forehead against her palm. “I’m afraid that was a mistake, dear one. You seem to have forgotten one of the simple truths about the Ageless. We are immune to disease, we are impervious to illness.”

   Jonas chuckles. “It is always wise to learn as much about your foe as possible. For example, one should not attempt such nasty little spells against someone who trains others on how to use exceptional fortitude.” Jonas crouches into a low position, and as he does so, you see his entire body begin to pulse like the beating of a heart.

   He taps his cleaver against his chef’s knife, and as he does so, you begin to see a sickly green light form around him. With a wave of his hand, the green, vaporous cloud hurtles towards you, slamming you in the chest and knocking you backwards.

   Faran’s immune system is dramatically lowered. There are no visual or tangible effects to this spell and only those with great healing talent. Cuts suffered will become infected and fester quickly. Any diseases picked up will manifest symptoms within an hour instead of a day The effect will last for days, but individuals with Constitution: (anything) will regain their immune system faster.

        Jonas has reflected your own spell back at you. You are intelligent enough to surmise that this is some unusual Constitution effect. Perhaps it is even one that you might be able to learn at some point.

        Jonas begins to strike his cleaver and the chef's knife together, causing his weapons to spark considerably. While you attempt to deal with the effects of your own spell, you see that Jonas is already thundering towards you.

[Faran Beshral]

My heart sank at the commentary on the sidelines. Immune to disease. Great. And they somehow expected me to know this? My first thought was petulance. I guess I wasn't around when they handed out the instruction manuals on being Ageless! Calm down Faran, calm down. This line of thinking won't help you now. “Here to lose”, remember?

I marveled as Jonas reflected my own spell back at me. I very nearly panicked in revulsion until I remembered that I was Ageless too. I wouldn't get sick like a mortal would. So potent was the reflection that it had staggered me backward, my bare back scraping across the oversized skewer that still stuck into the post behind me. Jonas began thundering toward me like a charging bull, his knives flashing in the sun. I was going to be skewered in the flesh this time if I didn't do something.

I heard the Song of Jonas's motion following him, the temporary song that follows all movement. I remembered an event somewhat like this one from a few years ago. A small, scrawny man had laid out a large and strong man by using the strong man's own weight and motion against him. He used his own body like the fulcrum of a lever to channel the strong man's speed downward instead of forward, putting him on the ground. I had no such intention or skill to even get near Jonas without being severely hurt, but I had to make the best of the situation. I Sang out to the Song that followed Jonas, encouraging it and multiplying it.

((Wisdom: Spiritual Magic - Song of Momentum) If successful, the song multiplies the force behind Jonas's charge several times. The force acts in one vector only, making stopping or changes in direction very difficult but not impossible.)

I was never very good at moving quickly but I hurled myself, ungracefully, out of the way at the last second, hoping Jonas's charge will slam him into skewer, fence and all behind me. I just hoped I didn't underestimate something about him AGAIN.

[Faidth]

@Faran:

   Your Song of Momentum effectively multiplies the force behind Jonas’s movement. Much to your surprise, Jonas makes little effort to change directions or stop himself. Rather, he seems quite at ease with this turn of events. His expression betrays nothing, but you perceive him to be surprisingly... relaxed. Furthermore, you can't help but to think he might be saving up for something big.
       
        He slams into the skewer with full force, and as you wait for the satisfying sound of the wooden stake penetrating his flesh, you are instead met with the sound of the skewer harmlessly crunching beneath him. This man must have insane command over Constitution.

   The fence, being magically protected, avoids being smashed by the force of the charging gourmand. Jonas digs his feet into the ground. His shoulder slams into the protective barrier and he bounces back.

   You watch as his form begins to pulse again. Jonas slams his weapons against one another, and you realize that he is shrugging off the effects of your spell. Your intuition tells you that he is using a Wisdom spell that allows him to dispel magic.

   “Now you are beginning to understand,” remarks Jonas approvingly.

   He crouches into a low position and charges forward with amazing celerity. You have never seen anyone so large move quite so quickly, and it appears he is using some kind of Skill similar to the one you saw Archer using against Sembas.

   Jonas flies towards you in a flurry of motion. His weapons are aimed to strike, and it would be wise to take preventative measures before you find yourself cleaved in two.

[Faran Beshral]

I rolled my eyes in exasperation when Jonas rebounded off the fence. NOW I was starting to panic. His blades were aimed to strike. I glanced over to where my pants lay, the lump in the pocket my one actual physical weapon I owned, now out of reach. I was running out of tricks. I searched for any kind of metal on his body but only saw the knives. They would have to do. I could only hope that they were made of at least some metal and not entirely ceramic.

I rolled up from my prone position, attuned myself to the song inside all metals, made sure I had lots of room behind me and jumped as I high as I could into the air. It wouldn't do me any good to do this while on the ground, not at this angle. I Sang to the Song in the metal but also held my arms in front of me, in a boxer's guard in case he was able to dispel this as well, despite it not being directly cast at himself. I could only rely on my own fortitude (Constitution: Soak) to have a prayer of not being gutted.

((Intelligence: Spells – Song of Magnetism) A direct interaction between Faran's center of mass and the metal in Jonas's knives. Depending on which is greater: Faran's weight or Jonas's grip on his knives, one of two things can happen. If Jonas's exerts more than 150lbs (about Faran's weight) of grip force on his knives, Faran flies away from the knives on a vector depending entirely on their position at the time of casting. If the opposite is true, Jonas's has less of a grip on his knives than that, the knives will fly out of Jonas's hands, either into himself or clattering harmlessly to the ground behind him.)