The Edge of Chaos

[Miro]

45th day of Winter, 513 AV

Miro had left Ravok to lose himself in worship to Morwen, but had long since finished. He still enjoyed the presence of the snow and wilderness however, as it reminded him of simpler times. It was home to him, in a sense. But not his true home. Indeed he had come to miss Ravok, and even Ender, but felt need to separate himself as well. Torn as he was, he found his way back to the shore. Being at the calm edge of the lake brought him some comfort with the vague glimmer of a city in the distance.

But the Ice Reaver wished most to be in the snow, and so he would enjoy this time. The Winter came and left so quickly. Though the wilds were quite alive, as the wizard had strayed from the road. There was no telling what his Familiar had been doing, but he felt that perhaps he was missed. At least he had better be missed, or else the Irlylid would have to learn. For now he had a clarity that was unreachable otherwise. In this time he would practice magic as he did in his apprenticeship. Alone and away from all but the wilds.

Miro wore naught but an open cloak and tan breeches, his face a horrid Maledicted mask as always. It had bonded to him, as had a tsana leather glove on his right arm. His left arm hung loosely in a sling, It was blackened and dead, as was much of the undead's body. Most of his of his back and chest and most of his left leg were blackened. He could only limp to move without the assistance of magic. And lately even that was becoming difficult. Even his right arm had begun to suffer.

The wizard sat with his legs crossed at the lake's edge. The smallest of waves lapped against the shoreline, and in the distance a chorus of wolves howled. Though from the volume of the howling, the pack was either very large or somewhat close. Despite this it too soothed him somewhat. He had began to prepare himself to cast, but still hadn't finished his preparation. The Leecher attuned himself to the environment around him and opened his body to absorb Djed from it. He would continuously Leech a gradual amount of Djed from it.

Miro's mind was calm and focused, and he was ready to begin casting. He grasped his dead hand with his gloved hand and bowed his head. Finally he closed his eyes and began to spend his Djed to attune with the aura of the world around him. The process was difficult, slow, and taxing. Mostly mentally. He began to breathe in through his nose and out through his mouth, picture the area around him, concentrate on his senses. He heard the forest behind him and the lake before him. He felt the icy breezes and presence of snow all about. His senses were flooded with information, and his mind struggled to make sense of it.

An image of the world around him began to form in his mind, though all of the details were unsorted. The mental fatigue left the Aurist and his sight began to clear. Still the auras around him weighed heavy on him. The lake had an unsettling presence to it, while the forest around him was subtle and peaceful. Wisps of the snows aura nipped at his bare flesh. It sent chills of pleasure through his body to be embraced by it. As chimes passed the wizard was able to see the area around him and attuned himself with it almost entirely. He watched the still world around him in total peace.

[Venser Rush]

There was freedom in the wilderness surrounding Ravok. Free from the burden of the droll that was association with other beings, Venser was allowed a modicum of peace in the chaos that was Ravok.

This is false. Peace is a lie, Venser. What you feel is a lie. The Fluxist knew his own thoughts to be true, but despite the conflict in desire and reality, he decided to ignore it. Lakeshore was a calm area, at least, in the moment, the water crashing to the shore just shy of Venser's boots, the snow capping Venser's ash blonde hair with white. He had brought his coat with him, but still, he shivered, wisps of icy breath leaving his lungs as steam.

Venser enjoyed the snow, the feeling of cold contradicted the perceived stillness of the land. The cold was primal, it instilled the fear of freezing in the mind, frostbite potentially inflicting its damage upon the body, but Venser feared neither at this moment.

What he did fear, however, was a far more present, looming threat. A threat that he perceived as the howling of wolves became audible, the blonde unable to count how many sounded in the choir that was certain damnation. But, he was certain that the danger far outweighed any sense of curiosity that he should have.

Yet, he found himself unable to move away. There was a premonition, a sense of curiosity as he looked into the distance to spot the figure of what looked to be a man seated near the shoreline. Venser could not see him properly at the distance, yet he was curious. Surely the man heard the threat, as well? Or was he deaf? Or did he simply not care? Suicidal? Over-confident? The questions posed themselves in rapid-fire, Venser's mind quite unable to keep up with itself, and the thoughts of retreating were cast aside like branches in the winter storm.

The Fluxist decided to approach the man, curiosity overtaking him. With each step, the Legate heard the howls grow louder, they moved closer, rung deeper into the man's psyche. Fear began to register into his mind before he felt the most curious sensation. He was rather close to the cross-legged man at this moment, a mere distance of twenty meters between them as he felt it. It was as if the air itself stilled in the man's presence, his serene posture, closed eyes focusing on something. Fixated on his thoughts so inwardly directed. Venser had no idea what the focus could possibly be directed towards, though subconsciously, his brain assessed the situation.

However, the assessment was interrupted again as the howls tore through the tapestry of forest, vicious roars accompanied by the pressing of padded paws into the snow covered earth. They were approaching... Venser cast his gaze towards the looming threat, counting no less than three wolves speeding towards him. Venser reached for his punch daggers, looping his fingers through the grips as he sought to, at the very least, attempt to fight for his life. Three wolves was likely too great of a challenge for him...

But perhaps if one falls, the other two will retreat? It's worth a shot. I doubt I'm going to win a race against two wolves, even if I put the Flux into my legs. It's by no means a way to retreat...

The first of the beasts was less than fifty meters away, yellowed teeth flashing in the lack of winter's sun this day, fur as black as night's embrace adorning its body. But what Venser knew from experience and would again come to realize, was that its most terrifying feature was its eyes. Feral, yellow orbs vibrated with the unintelligent savagery that was unique to the Ravokian Black Wolf. Venser stepped back as far towards the shore as possible, hoping that if all else failed, he could run into the water in order to somehow level his odds and increase his chance of survival.

[Miro]

The serene setting the wizard had come to enjoy began to slowly fade. His Auristic focus and field of vision were limited, and his ability to sustain such an ability was undeveloped. Though in the distance he got a strong sense of a more powerful aura. It was a sense somewhat alarming, as company was not expected. The Reimancer ceased his intake of Djed via Leeching, and instead reversed the flow of Djed to emit an aqua colored gas from body. The process was notably slowed for somebody of his mastery, though the substance quickly enveloped him like a cloudy aura. Though the process caused his Auristic sight to fritter away, just before it was lost he caught a glimpse of a sentient aura and read any detail he could.

All he got from the reading was a wild panic of feeling, but perhaps this was somewhat accurate. Miro opened his eyes and revealed a man being pursued by a pack of wolves, seemingly in fear of losing his life. The deep blankets of snow seemed to slow the man, however the wolves were well accustomed to the snowy fields and would surely get the man. Far be it from the Chained One to consider himself noble, but obviously something had to be done. Not that he would mind the loss of this soul, but he was not about to watch wolves devour a man before him. Such a bloody mess would ruin his lovely spot, were he not the one to color it crimson.

The undead's mind began to waver however from the fatigue of aura watching. It was an especially harsh case of the aftershock too. It took several ticks for the effect to fully fade. But as his mind returned to him, the once slow pace of Res emission was replaced by an especially vigorous output. He slammed his fist into the snow before him and sharpened his focus on his Aqua Aura emission technique. The Res shot from his body and caused a dust of snow to flow away from him as the substance swirled about his form. Finally he planted his foot and rose from a kneeling position to stand as he drew his fist forth through the snow and guided his Res onward.

The magical fluid was willed to gather and condense behind his fist and travel through the snow toward the three wolves in pursuit of the man. As it sailed toward its target the Reimancer willed the snow to attract to the substance and gather. A large wave of snow was directed directly at the trio of carnivores and a transmutation was willed just before contact was made. The wave of snow rose up as if to swallow the beasts whole and froze as it crashed upon them. Though it would likely only be a temporary delay in their hunt, they were stopped for now. This under normal circumstances would be no problem, however the rest of the pack had made its presence known. Three more wolves of similar size, and an alpha, seemingly twice the size of the others.

There was not much the Chained One could do to protect the cornered man from here. It seemed though he hadn't run yet, for whatever reason. Either it was out of hesitation or to make a stand alongside the wizard. Though seemingly unarmed, the man looked as if he could use some assistance. The best that could be done was to lend him a weapon. But so help Rhysol, if the fool tried to steal from the undead, the wolves blood would not be the only glistening upon the snow. He drew his blade from under his cloak and called to the man, ”Hey kid, catch!” And he promptly tossed the blade hilt first, although without much care if the catcher was ready. There were more important things to worry about. The rest of the wolves were quickly closing in.

The Reimancer again began to produce Res, but not nearly as much. He leaked a thick gel from his legs and right arm and guided it into place. He needed to be efficient in this fight. Lucky for him he was in his element. His Ice Reaving and Reimancy were at their prime when surrounded by the Ice Queen’s grace, and his prey would soon find this out the hard way. The liquid Res from his legs leaked into the snow around him while a portion of the substance gathered on his arms took form in his hand. He formed a sharp and sturdy pick in his hand with a customized handle. He shaped an easy to hold grip and transmuted it to a new element. It formed into frozen mud. It was not quite as tough as rock, but stronger than the mere frozen water that made typical ice.

Miro continued to produce Res from his legs to saturate the snow, but without his staff he was not nearly as efficient. To continue to use Reimancy as he had would wither away all of his Djed, when clearly he had more business to take care of. It would serve him best to act conservatively for now. The wizard gave up on producing Res and let suffice a radius of five feet around him loosely saturated with Res. The snow all about him concealing it, as if wolves would know any better. They were still several feet away from the hot zone, but would be there within moments. He prepared himself with a strategy. How his body was, he was not very effective in combat against multiple enemies, but nor was he agile. It would serve him best to just hold his ground.

The first wolf came in at him, but before it could get near he raised snow and Res to take its legs and froze them in place. He quickly followed it with spikes of Res and snow from each side to rise and pierce through its body in several places, then melt with a tap of his Ice Reaving mark. The wolf without even a whimper dropped, but the others were coming at Miro just as quickly. The two remaining average wolves came in from the sides while the alpha trailed behind, though it charged with great speed. Much like with the first wolf, Miro raised his Res to grasp at their legs and transmuted it to ice. Each time however they pulled free and continued on. The Reimancer gathered a great mass of the spell in front of himself and waited.

The snow bunched up before him, and despite this the wolves came at him. The beasts were side by side now, and only a few feet away. Finally the mass of snowy ice reached for them and encased their legs and bodies in a frozen veil. The wizard lunged forward and redirected a charge of Djed from his left leg into his right arm and stabbed the wolf on the right in the neck hilt deep with his weapon. Immediately after he turned to grasp the remaining wolf and began to sap its Djed through Leeching. His hand still empowered by the Flux dug nails into the flesh of the beast, and sucked its very life from it. It was not long before the creatures soul had suffered a fatal amount of damage and died. And it was at this time that the alpha made his way into striking range.

Before the undead could remove his claws the creature was upon him. It leapt with a power and weight unlike any wolf he had ever encountered before. Had he wind in him to be knocked out, surely it would have been. But luckily the beast was intercepted well. It had sunk its teeth into the arm wrapped around its fallen ally’s neck, and now chewed at an Isurian made battlecloak. It chewed upon the arm which was remarkably strong and still enhanced with the Flux. The wizard landed hard on the soft snow behind him and held the giant wolf back. On his back like this there was little he could do. His body was too weak to make due without energy sacrificed from his arm. That meant his arm was his only choice.

Still there was some amount of of Res left in the snow around him, and he would use it to finish this mutt off. The damn thing was strong too, for it continued to draw the undead’s arm closer and closer to his neck. The Reimancer redirected strength from both of his legs into his arm and called the Res from on his arm and in the snow to flow onto the snout of the wolf. He thrust his arm outward to push it back, then quickly grasped its snout and froze his hand in place. Though most of its face was frozen, and its mouth sealed shut, it still had the ability to breathe. Its nose was left uncovered in favor of a secured grasp. However this did not stop it from flailing its paws.

Miro began to Leech the creature as soon as contact was made, though it was quite lively. It slapped its paws against the battle robe and even against the Mask of Many a time or two before it weakened. Any significant Djed to be gained was taken already, and now the Leecher took only drove the fiend into overgiving. Its body was limp, its mind was gone and its soul was permanently damaged. Though hardly was that enough for the trouble it had given. The wizard twisted its neck harshly to the side and reveled in the snap it made. Finally the ice was cracked with a tap of his Gnosis and the redirections were dismissed.

The undead clumsily made his way back up to his feet to see what more could be done for his supposed ally, but feared he was too late to offer much more assistance. By now there was surely a victor. Either the wolves had made a meal of him and needed to be taken care of, or he had brought glory to all those who served in the Akeldama Colosseum by wielding their signature gladius to victory in a grand fight. Such a battle truly did bring him back to those days of his youth. All the times he had risked his life for sport and glory. Truly times were much more simple back then. What he wouldn’t give for just one more day on those crimsons sands fighting for a city’s worth of cheering people.

[Venser Rush]

Panic set into the Rush twin's mind as he stepped further back towards the lake, his boots quickly flooding with the fresh water of the lake, the weight immediately making itself clear, his steps sloshing in the shores of Lake Ravok. The desire to live was quickly overriding logical instinct, which told him to try to find a vantage point. He had no choice but to fight off the beasts, and by the howls in the distance, more were to follow. Both the strange man seated by the shore and Venser himself were in an unbelievable amount of danger, and as the blonde tried to find solutions, he was left only with questions.

The strange man rose from the ground, his steps hindered by a heavy limp favouring the right side. Steps forward were accompanied by a strange, gaseous substance emitting from his body. It sprung forward, Venser following the motion of the gas until his attention was diverted by the man's voice. An exclamation set out, followed by a thrown blade, so familiar in appearance and shape, and the Rush twin set out to catch it. In his effort, he nearly stumbled forward and fell, though he caught the blade in his left hand, only afterwards looking back to the wolves and noticing what the man, obviously a wizard, had done.

All three of the wolves in front of Venser were encased in layers of snow, the mound moving, breaking apart, though for the moment, the predators were incapacitated. The gladius was heavy in the Rush twin's left, and dominant hand, his fingers clenched around the handle as his right lowered to his waist. The clip holding his punch dagger in place was undone, fingers looping through the holes, his fist clenched as Venser Rush stepped forward to face his incapacitated foes.

A single, feral eye stared out of the mound, broken apart and quickly unraveling, but Venser would not wait for the process to complete. Venser did not bother adjusting his grip on the blade, the hold tight, but with the obvious mark of one who had never held a blade in his life. The grip upon the punch dagger was more practiced, and the Rush ascended to within arm's reach of the mound of snow, a quiet murmur escaping his lips as a deep breath filled the Rush twin's lungs.

Venser pulled at the djed within his soul, agitating and springing it into being, the flow of the djed coursing from his right, weaker arm, directing it towards his core, the Rush twin sending his djed to his left. The Flux breathed through Venser, pleasure rolling down the twin's spine in waves, his arm immediately feeling strength abound in it, a memory stirring just as the thought materialized in his thoughts. The wolves reminded him of the item around his neck, the Maledicted jawbone that he now formed into a pendant, hidden beneath his shirt. As the blonde recalled Baurus and the process of Maledicting the jawbone, an eerie, visceral sense of calm washed over him, the panic fleeing from his thoughts, his heartbeat set, normalizing as Venser drove forward his left arm.

Cold metal penetrated the sheet of snow, a sharp cry audible within the mound of snow as Venser drove his flux-augmented arm forward, a pleased laugh escaping his lips as pleasure continued to fill his mind, sharp lucidity slowly replacing itself with a blurred, slowed perception of reality. The Flux drove him into being, it consumed, it allowed, enabled him. He felt the laughter ascend through his throat, bubbling again from parted lips as he witnessed the snowy mound taint crimson with the first wolf's blood.

And then, the Rush twin withdrew the blade. The sound sounded through his mind, a second, pained howl escaping the wolf, ragged and weak as the crimson blossomed through the mound, a single wisp of steam radiating from the mound as the front of the mound went still, the wolf within collapsing.

The other two battled for their freedom, the mound breaking apart, Venser stepping forward, around the mound in search of the other wolves. His mind was numbed through the Flux, his mind granted a coarse, primal desire to fight, to win, to slay. At the base of such thoughts, Venser approved entirely, surrendering himself to the seductive call of the Flux, endorsing the primal surge of instinct, for it protected him.

The Flux gives me the power to persevere. It allowed me to ascend Vilkas Rush's fists and destroy him. It granted me the strength to destroy that wolf. It springs from the soul and sends it to battle. My djed turns into strength, and that strength crushes that which opposes me.

Part of the Rush twin wondered what power the wizard fighting the other wolves had employed, but he didn't care right now. All that mattered was the thrill of the Flux and the destruction of the threat before him.

[Miro]

It seemed that Miro had made quick work of his wolves. By the time he had risen to his feet, only one of the wolves had been dealt with on his allies side. There was something about the attack, so raw, so vicious. It reminded the former gladiator of his time on the dusty red sands of the Akeldama. With only two more of the beasts after him, he had things under control. The odds were not great, but he already had a bit of assistance. If he was going to wield a gladiator's weapon, he would perform as one.

To be the crowd for a gladiatorial event was not something oft the wizard got to do in his time in Alvadas. Normally he was the one performing. He could not cheer, as he feared this would distract the man, but he could certainly watch. Watch very carefully. Not just with his eyes, but with his magic. The undead eased in closer and focused on the man before him. He so desperately wanted a good show, and knew focusing on Auristics would take part of the excitement, but he didn't care. There was something to the way this man operated that was not right.

The Aurist opened himself to the world around him, his focus set dead on the man before him. He could practically hear the fierceness of his heart beat, feel the cold focus set of his mind, taste the primal rush of combat. This man was one worthy to wield the gladius. Miro watched with wild anticipation, the world around him gone, now with his champion the center of his existence. The aura he possessed, it was brilliant, if also dark at the same time. There was something of this young man that was not quite normal, but it seemed that it was instead exceptional.

The Chained One grinned at one of the thoughts that passed through his mind. The quality of his aura almost hinted at personal magic, but perhaps it was wishful thinking. In the heat of the moment anyone would have their aura flare with excitement. The Aurist drew nearer to get a clearer view and focused on attuning himself further. He wished to examine and dissect this aura. Not to the normal degree, but to something much deeper. He wanted to find more. And if the man died in the process, well, it would be interesting to see the change in an aura as a person lost their life.

[Venser Rush]

The bitter smell of blood engulfed the Rush twin's lungs as he took his first inhale at the precipice of destruction. A surge flowed down his spine as pleasure exploded upon his senses. The magic created fissures in his mind, such trivial, blasphemous things as common sense, pity and mercy driving themselves from the forefront of his mind as air fled from his lungs. And with his new breath, new life forged. His arm surged with the pain that was the Flux, the visceral, primal excitement that flooded his veins, the djed that drove upon and accentuated the natural strength of his musculature.

Venser felt alive for the first time that day, the rapid, erratic beat of his heart in his chest, the hairs at the back of his neck erect, a flood of personal satisfaction ablaze in his thoughts as he stepped forward, where he could see the steam radiating from the snow as the wolf began to break free of the mound. There, he could see it fighting, the battle it did with the mound in its rising climax as the wolf's head made itself apparent, feral eyes staring wildly in every given direction as paws presumably flailed beneath the snow to dig at and claw at the snow.

Claws were just visible at the surface of the snowy mound that imprisoned the wolf, Venser allowing a laugh to escape his lips as he gripped at the gladius that he held. Blood dripped to the floor from the surface of the weapon's blade, crimson flowing as a river at the edge of what Venser could only assume was steel before he swung the blade for a second time. There was no need to stab as he had before. There was no desire to do so. Rather, the Rush twin stepped forward, his chest mere inches from the body of the second wolf, the skin, dampened by sweat and cooled by the wind, able to feel the fiery depth of the wolf's breath, the warmth spreading across the surface as the blade arced with his swing.

A poor example of expertise, though with the wolf's inability to move up or down with the mound encasing its body still, the Flux drove the blade forward. Bone crushed against the cold iron of the blade, shattering with the power of the Flux, though as the blade tore through the wiring of the spinal column, the body went still. There was no decapitation, for the motion stalled at the spinal column, the blade sticking against the fur and shards of bone that remained as the breath stopped wafting against the surface of dampened skin.

The blade was lodged within the wolf's throat, blood pouring down the length before tilting to the side and dripping to the floor as frozen droplets. Venser considered forcefully ripping the gladius from the wolf's throat, but decided, in the middle of battle, that the weapon was no longer necessary. Another breath channeled through the nostrils, flowing air down the throat, and and again, Venser felt a shift in the prioritization of his djed. The Flux was stagnant in his left, and now weaponless arm, the djed eager for an outlet, a medium of interaction not only with Venser's body, but the world. It whispered in his mind, the sensation filling him as he heard what was normally nonsensical whispers of encouragement take literal, physical words and throw them at his mind like daggers with intent to bite and bleed.

The Flux flows, Venser! It breathes and washes through the body. Cast more, flow more! Your strength is needed elsewhere...

The thoughts were... absolutely right. The Flux drove, it did not simply park itself in one part of the body and stay, eager to service a single segment of musculature and be satisfied! Venser gripped at the djed within his arm, coaxing it, enticing it to flow once again as the Rush twin felt the chills flow down his spine again, the smile upon his lips, the satisfied curl of collagen turned to a vibrant grin that matched the feral look that he adopted from the wolves. How they knew how to live! They fought and took and struck with force that the Rush twin so desired to emulate. And, he would have the chance to.

Ears perked, fixation at the sound of flowing snow, kindred to that of the smallest of avalanches falling in the vicinity of Venser's fight. Ragged, tried breathing of the wolf turned to an excited, baiting yip before evolving into a snarl, breaths taken into the wolf's lungs as a series of sniffs, presumably locking onto the Rush twin's scent, so tainted with that of the blood of the wolf's kin. It ran, feet trudging through snow as it moved about the mound just as Venser himself had, though the Rush twin was prepared for the fight.

Djed made its forward progress through his heart, the organ racing in the human's excitement just as the wolf began its steps. And the Rush twin's focus was held for ticks longer, his left arm raised as a form of self-defense, as if it would be sufficient to ward off the wolf, though obviously, this was not the case. Ninety and five pounds exploded forward from its place in the snow, springing forward and knocking Venser Rush to the ground, the snow cold against dampened flesh and fabric alike as the wolf bashed at Venser with its paws.

Cuts formed along the surface of the skin, blood flowing to the white snow, though Venser was master of his pain. It merely encouraged the flow of his djed, sending it further along the length of his torso and into his right arm, flooding it with strength and dexterity usually known only to the left, the process taking a total of ten ticks in the trance that was the Flux's control over the twin. Venser did not try to resist it, for to resist the pull of the whispers was to lose himself entirely.

Fingers gripped at the cloth wraps of the punch dagger's hold, a laugh escaping the twin's lips as cuts formed upon his right arm, the gashes tearing into his flesh as the punch dagger sailed forward to penetrate the wolf's. Venser's right arm had moved backwards just slightly in order to propel the momentum of his fist, throwing a punch so similar to those that had been thrown at him, though his grip upon the dagger instinctively tightened at impact, forcing the strength of the Flux through the three inch blade, which sailed through the wolf's throat. Blood poured, flowed from the wolf's throat, staining Venser's face and torso with its hot, crimson splendor as the Rush twin pushed the body off of his own. Laughter escaped his lips as he brought himself to an upright position, looking to the wizard that had saved his life, seeing the masked face of an enemy to be destroyed rather than a saviour to be thanked.

Fingers clenched around the grips again as Venser stepped forward, his movements almost staggered as he ascended upon his new enemy.

[Miro]

Miro loved the valiant display before him, able to see the rush of battle like never before. His Auristic sense gave a depth unrivaled by any other sense. An empathy almost, like the wizard himself was experiencing the battle firsthand. He could feel the sheer primal instinct, the tension in the man's body, his battle high hummed a vibrant tune. It made the undead almost feel alive again. He thought his own heart might start to race. The Aurist could practically taste the sweat on his champion's brow.

From within the primal rush of combat was even a sense of joy. When the Chained One's own gladius nearly beheaded a wolf, it spiked within him. Not just his own cheers, but an empathetic sense received from the man. And then the wolf made its move, and the tension of battle was at its peak. The aura shone most brilliantly now. The wolf was a formidable creature, but not resolute enough. It was struck with a fatal blow to the neck, and another spike of excitement was felt.

Miro knew his champion had the spirit of a gladiator. But then, wait, why was the aura not calming? The man turned to Miro, but his mood did not shift. He was not thankful, not grateful for his life being saved. There was still that dark killing intent. The Aurist cancelled his focus on the aura, and his mind was hit hard with a heavy fatigue. His vision distorted, but he could see the man drawing nearer. The wizard regained his composure as quickly as possible and attempted to deter him with Hypnotism.

The Hypnotist opened his body language, gestured and attempted to seem non-threatening. He waved his hand back and forth as a sign that he meant no harm and hunched over slightly. His voice empowered with Djed cast emotional responses of calmness as he spoke. "I mean you no harm, you are safe now." He gestured with a firm wave of his hand as if to tell the man to stop and cast a sudden thought. The subliminal message, "This man is not a threat, he means no harm." By the time he finished casting the man was nearly upon him. Miro did not want to have to hurt this man whom he'd just been so impressed by.

[Venser Rush]

And how it flowed! Venser felt the Flux drive through his body, the echo of the movement of djed moving through his soul, the rush of pleasure driving down his spine, the call of battle, blood, and death pulsing in his head, thought numbed as a result. The beating heart of man raced in his chest, Venser's eyes wide and receptive, but there was little more than the beast that the Flux wedged into the mind. The power coursed the surging desire to fight and destroy in his mind. And it was what was to be done. Venser's right hand gripped at his punch dagger, the steel handle held tightly between his fingers as a deep breath filled his lungs.

How his senses brought in only the most primal of detail! His eyes imprinted detail, jagged and sharp, crisp in the moment of his focus. His nostrils flared with the smell of blood, staining his face and the fabric of his shirt. His ears heard naught but the waves of Lake Ravok crashing upon the shores and snows, loud in their proximity to himself and the strange wizard, the enemy. the Fluxist's senses were by no means magnified, but his mind, uncluttered by such things as mental debate and philosophical ponderings, was allowed to simply... sense. To intake the details of his surroundings, the world around him opened as philosophical nonsense was surrendered to the desire.

Staggered footsteps quickly righted in posture, the pain of the injuries upon his dominant arm fading as the Flux dulled this particular sense. In another mindset, the Rush twin would wonder if the senses fed from one another, if the nervous impulse was affected by the body's movement of djed. But for the moment, he cared nothing for intellectual pursuit. Simply for the pleasure of the fight, the destruction of what was before him. The wizard spoke to the Rush twin as he stepped forward, words registered, intention flowing from them, an offer of peace extended from lips concealed by a mask adorned with the design of a skull. His words flowed with grace, allowing Venser momentary peace to realize that if he continued down the path of the Flux, it would destroy his body.

For the moment, he would calm himself, heed the words of the enemy, if only as a means of ensuring his own safety. With each step forward, the movement of djed resumed, Venser allowing the Flux to drive his djed back to the core of his body, the process taking a total of thirteen ticks, of which Venser slowed his ascent, the grip on his punch dagger loosing in the attempt to fool his prey into the false sense of security.

Predatory was the expression set upon his features, the expression clearly defying the ruse he set, a cold, scrutinizing stare cast in crystalline eyes, and when Venser was within feet of the wizard, the Rush twin leaped forward. There was no cry of battle, no scream of battle to muster the courage that the Rush twin already bestowed into himself with the Flux. Though the magic had dispersed through the body, leaving him with pain in his left arm, wounds pouring crimson upon the white mounds of snowy floor, Venser didn't care.

The echo remained, the desire to strike down and flay the flesh of the opponent from his bones. The very bones that Venser would then turn into artifacts. The Flux fed into Zapatl, the sword that drove the widespread of the tome.

The Rush twin's right, uninjured arm raised the punch dagger to shoulder level, the last step forward that brought him within arm's reach of the masked wizard. His fist threw the blade forward much like a punch, the intention to drive the dagger through the wizard's throat and spill the same crimson blood that Venser had spilled, to see it flow and ebb as life fled from bulging gray eyes.

[Miro]

Miro could see the cold stare in his champion's eyes and the deadly tone of his body, but was confident in himself. These days the undead's body did not move like it used to, so when confronted, he usually decided to stand his ground. But to stand his ground meant to defend himself, which normally would mean to put up some form of offense. Though the man that had been fleeing the wolves was gone, and in his place was a resolute killer. It was admirable, truly, and as such had won over the Chained One.

There was potential in one who could take up a new weapon on the fly, to nearly cleave off the head of a Ravokian wolf. To stare a beast in the eyes, take its assault, then end the creature without flinch or hesitation. This man knew power, and more than ever the wizard suspected magic was at play. He did not sense it in the air, no more than when he cast his spell, but still had few doubts. He had once as a child lost himself to the Flux. To train Reimancy, then push himself in the Flux, it was a mistake that took a great deal from him.

The undead could no longer recall his mother's face, but he could still see fresh in his mind the gore of her innards spread across the snowy Talderan field. He did not remember the act of taking her life, but when he came to, he was covered in her blood. A mistake all too easy to make, he would not fault this man for potentially falling to it. In honesty there was no real perceived danger from this man. Not only was he wounded, but only wielded a simple weapon. But when the leap forth was made and Hypnotism was proven ineffective, perhaps there was a tinge of surprise. Even, if only for a moment, a tinge of doubt.

Miro even took a step back, and immediately cursed his resolution. His stance was broken, and he had shown weakness. How could a simple harrowed expression cause him to react in such a way? Did the undead see himself in this man, or perhaps see his own fears? The combatant cocked his arm for a strike, and the wizard readied to receive it. In that instant he drew on his honed control of the Flux and chained a redirection. First from his right arm to his legs, then from his right leg to his arm. It would give him the strength he would need to move nimbly enough to counter the attack.

With the strength granted to his legs, the undead took a step to the side and turned himself. He moved in slight to the side of his assailant and planted his right foot for support. Then with his enhanced right arm he swiftly moved his hand to receive the attack coming for him. His hand gripped the man by the wrist firmly, but not so much as to injure him. The two were only inches away from each other, and Miro scowled as he looked into the man's eyes. His glare was even more cold and dead than the Chained One's. Inside a rush of emotion was surging forth. Sympathy was wearing thin. How dare this petulant fool assault him?

Miro scowled harshly beneath his mask. How dare he? The thought just repeated in the his mind. To cause him falter, assault him, defy Hypnotism. But worst of all the man let his mind get lost so easily. The wizard concentrated his Djed to his voice, exploded his presence, pushed as focused a spell of hypnotic manipulation as he could. In his mind was what he was telling himself at the reaction to these events, just calm down. But he could not be calm, not while his champion was still so hostile. He roared, "Calm down!" And with it he willed a calming emotion as fiercely as a yelling man could.

But no, this was not the emotional response the Hypnotist had come to know. This was something greater, more powerful, and definitely more taxing. Rather than a simple hint, tinge of emotion, this was more akin a surge of it. The close proximity to his target, he could feel his aura of influence concentrate, practically wrap about the man. His Djed poured from him and into the man, and in just an instant the undead found himself left weak. He released his hold on the man and stumbled back. Not only did he stumble, but lose his footing and drop into the snow on his rump. He felt weak and would be left at his former champion's mercy.

[Venser Rush]

The Rush twin did not, in his bloody haze, expect for his attack to be deflected with such ease. The man's hand rose and with a motion far swifter than Venser's own movements, even while augmented with the Flux, the human's wrist was gripped. The target had moved to the side, as well, punch dagger sailing past his head as the man righted himself at Venser's side, a firm, cold grasp pressed into the Rush twin's wrist, his strength lost in the wake of the dissolution of the Flux, the spread of the magic through the body.

Venser's left arm was on the verge of lowering to grip at the other Flux dagger kept at the grip on his left hip, but then he was met with a shout. The wizard's voice exploded with the demanding tone of a King, demanding that his gladiator calm himself and rescind from the heat of the battle he had become consumed by. If the Rush twin felt a vague, instinctive familiarity with the way the words were spoken, it was consumed entirely by the sheer spiraling that his emotions were consumed by.

Before the serenity set in, Venser felt his mindset unhinge. This was not the slow, unsteady unraveling of a conversation's bringing of calm into the situation. No, this was the call of one with power at their throat, demanding their will be imposed and enacted, Venser feeling the whispers pulsing in his mind crumbling, becoming warped first, incomprehensible before fading entirely, leaving the Rush twin with his mind utterly silent, his thoughts flooding with the sudden surge of calm. A breath filled the man's lungs as his crystalline gaze lost the feral, blank gaze of a beast caged within a mortal coil.

It regained the sentience of man, the man's gaze flickering along the length of the wizard's arm, noting the vibrant red of the robe. It seemed more akin to a trench coat, the garment lacking the traditional signs of a robe. Venser lost himself in the patterns of azure triangles for several moments before he looked to the skull mask that replaced the presence of a human face.

The Legate was by no means intimidated by the mask, the surge that washed over him quickly and steadily gaining control, his exhilarated grin fading in favour of a far more neutrally inclined expression. Venser then felt the grip of his saviour's -for he again merited the title- fingers slack and part from his flesh, Venser stowing the punch dagger into his pocket and looking to the weakened wizard with a curious expression. If he were inclined to, he could murder the man and set out to do what the Flux-driven rage of before had desired of him. But, the desire was lost to a sense of curiousity regarding the wizard.

His magic was impressive, the ability to manipulate and control snow to form a horizontal avalanche was nothing short of miraculous, far superior to Venser's own strength. Rather than end the life of such a worthy man, he would instead attempt to gain his favour, Venser stepping forward and offer the wizard his hand, extending to him the assistance to rise again, for the wizard had fallen.

"Thank you for coming to my aid, wizard."

The gratitude was met with reluctance, a measure of pride in the Rush twin's voice, though slowly, his lips curled into a weak smile. Rather than leave himself in the brokenness of silence, Venser decided to introduce himself to his saviour,

"I... regret my earlier outburst. I am Venser Rush, my new friend. May I ask you for your name?"