Peaceful Stroll in the Forest.

by **Markus Andres** on February 5th, 2014, 5:46 pm

35th of winter 513 AV.

Breathing was getting harder. Legs were getting weary. The very air he sucked in started to burn in his lungs as they demanded more. It had been almost a full mile sprint through rugged terrain and uneasy footing, yet the knight did not stop. Could not stop. The heavy armour caked in blood and mud. Some of the blood his own, most of it wasn't. Syna's grace bathed him in a warm winter light through the crownless trees. The forest was in a dormant state. Only thing moving through it was the young knight. Sprinting as if he was whipped by the gods. Plus the creature following him. Enormous reptile. He threw a quick glance over his shoulder, but saw nothing. Nor did he stop to get a better look. He knew it was there. Call it a sixth sense or just the fear tearing away at him. He felt the shame as he put his right foot in front of the other and a surprised ”shyke” escaped his lips when the foot slipped. Over 250 pounds of metal and flesh collided with the cold and frozen ground. Right shoulder crashing into the snow and earth. He let out a gasp of pain. But it did not stop there. The frozen and slippery ground sent the knight sliding across the forest floor.

The metal edges of the shield scraped against the frozen ground. Markus heard the infernal noise and panic caught him again. Thinking the creature upon him again. He tried to slow down, but nature did that for him. The edge of the shield got stuck under an extended rock. Catapulting him into the air and Markus felt his left arm protest in pain, luckily it did not break. In the brief time spent in the air he gasped out a lungful of air in pain. His left knee crashed into the ground. Metal digging into the ground. With the mad spin stopped, the young disorientated knight looked around briefly before he heard a screech somewhere close. Without a second thought he was running again. He was not fighting that petching thing. Wing span too large for Markus, its reptilian body evoked the savage instincts that kept him running. Had forced him into his escape when the Balicani had struck first. Or was it second? Considering most of the blood that covered him was from its younger kin. A creature barely the size of Markus. Probably its offspring. And Markus had its several times larger and very pissed off mother chasing him.

In his hurry to escape from the nightmarish creature, he smashed right through a bush. Its cold and rigid branches cut into him like thorns, tearing away at the unprotected parts of his face. Leaving many small cuts that stung in the winter cold. Fresh blood seeped from his skin. He opened his eyes again and they eyes went wide.

How? When? … why?

Markus stopped his run the best he could, pushed off with one foot and radically changed his direction. Why were she out here? Why? No doubt she had heard him coming. He had not exactly been quiet in his approach. Markus almost fell again, but his right arm reached out and grabbed a stabilizing thick branch and stopped his escape.

Staring at the room between the trees. He saw Nira'lia there. Standing in her white dress. A basket under the arm full of herbs and flowers. She looked stunning. Looked pure against the backdrop.

Why is she here?

by **Markus Andres** on March 30th, 2014, 7:42 pm

Markus stared utterly stunned between the trees. He had just seen Nira'lia there. Though now he didn't see her. She must have found a place to conceal herself against the background. He had never really liked the woman, she had seemed a bit of a prude and the way she had handled the honour of joining the knights had bothered him. Though that did not mean he wanted her to die, so he was glad she had found somewhere to hide.

The knight heard the hissing screech behind him and instinctively leapt aside. Almost losing his foot in the process as the vicious creature struck where he had stood. Markus was not a very good acrobat, wearing heavy armour did not help him in this regard. So he landed heavily again. Right shoulder dug into the snow, he tumbled over and his back smacked against a tree. He gasped out his lung's content from the harsh blow. Markus rolled over onto his elbows. Staring at the white ground. Spit and saliva mixed with blood got spat out as he tried to suck in air.

As he lay there, mind still struggling to cope with everything that had happened. Dazed by the slight bump to the back of his head. He realized the absurdity of it all. Why would Nira'lia be about in the middle of the winter picking flowers and herbs? Especially in a beautiful and pure white dress.

Shaking the image out of his mind and focusing on the current situation. There was a nasty beast looming about and Markus sluggishly got to his feet. Feeling light headed as his lungs burned like phosphorous had been poured into his lungs. First a little bit of air came to the lungs. Then he heaved in again and a little more air. Then he heard a screech. He dived behind the tree the best he could. He heard no great thud as the creature connected with the tree.

He heard nothing at all. Must've changed direction. Markus got on his feet again, back against the tree. Mouth hanging agape desperately trying to suck in air. Then he heard it. Behind the tree. Its screech sending shivers down his back as it stomped about. He would soon be found.

by **Markus Andres** on March 30th, 2014, 7:42 pm

Markus' vision had narrowed, only what was right in front of him he could he see. Tunnel vision older knights had called it. A dangerous thing, convenient for running in straight lines, extremely inconvenient at all other times. Like when fleeing from a creature out of a nightmare. Bat like wings mounted on a serpentine body. Long nasty fangs, ready to tear the flesh from his bones. Markus pushed away from the tree. Stumbling away from the creature and he heard it screech behind him and he in a foggy daze got behind another tree.

Where did Nira'lia gone? His mind deliriously asked as he stumbled behind a tree. The much needed oxygen intake helped to clear his mind. But he was still exhausted from the sprint. His feet barely keeping him upright. It was nothing short of a miracle that he was still walking. ”Blessed be your strength, my lord Yahal.” He muttered as he left a splatter of blood against a tree that he pushed away from. Trying to propel him a tiny bit away. The monster was somewhere behind him. Seeking the murderer of her kin. A shallow cough escaped his lips. Spitting out blood from a cut in his mouth. Bitter taste of iron. Always hated the taste of his own blood. A reminder his defense had been sloppy.

He threw a glance over his shoulder. The creature had seen him. Small dark eyes narrowed in on the knight as he stumbled away. It took a second before it charged at him again. Large bat wings flapping in the air to give it more speed as its tiny legs pulled it forward. Straight at the knight.

A burst of either adrenaline or divine intervention had him run to the side. Out of its path. He could feel the leathery bat wings flap right behind his head as he fled again. Legs were like coal for each step he ran. His breath felt as if Ivak had possessed his body. He could not flee anymore. The creature would not let up until either he or it was dead. There was a gentle slope here, his pace slowly picked up as one leg mindlessly was placed before the other.

The knight needed clarity. He needed time! Needed some sort of defence against the thing that relentlessly pursued him. How could he possibly fight something that large. How could he hope to destroy a creature that vicious and relentless. He saw no possibility of victory against it, he had tried to flee and they might both live. But it had pursued him without pause.

"Pick up your heads and keep your chests out, for we die with honor this great night! We will never surrender and fight with all our energy until our dying breath!"

In his ears the voice of a dear friend. A lost comrade. A brother in arms whose loss he had oft mourned bitterly. The words bereft of hope. Not advice for a man who wished to live. But they were words worthy of a knight. Who needed hope to live, when one could die with true honour.

by **Markus Andres** on March 30th, 2014, 9:46 pm

What a load of bull Markus thought grimly, he had always hated that speech. He would never accept death was a given until he had at least tried to fight. Imass had been a great knight, but on that day, they had found victory. At a great cost, but death had not claimed them all that day. And death would not claim Markus now! A heel dug into the ground. Swung him about as he continued to slide backwards from the momentum. Dark green eyes burning with a deep inner fire. A fire he had not felt in a long time. Rage drove away his fear. The screech of the creature was met with a defiant yell.

”FOR SYLIR! FOR TYVETH! FOR WYSAR AND FOR YAHAL!” Bolstered by his great personal gods, the knight grind to a halt. Lungs sucking in bitter cold air as from Morwen's breath itself. Shield weighing heavily on his left arm, so he tossed it aside. It would not save him against this creature. Bastard sword drawn from its resting place by his hip. The deadly blade already splattered with the blood of this nasty creature's kin. The vile beast came at him. The legs clawing at the ground and propelling it forward down the slope. The large wings were pulled into its body. A thin long serpentine creature of death coming straight at him.

The knight's right foot dug into the ground as he bent the leg. Preparing to jump aside for the creature as it tried to impale him. His mind begun to prepare the magic that lay within him. Started to summon the energy needed to fight this vile creature. Normally he didn't summon his magic in a fight, for often it just disrupted years of careful timing if one part of his body was faster than the rest. But Markus did not have years of training fighting this sort of monster. Nor did he ever want that sort of experience. He slowly gathered the most of this energy into his hips. Pushing and guiding and forcing it into his legs. All counted on him avoiding that nasty proudly mounted in the ugly creature's face.

He would mount the ugly creature in his room once he was done with it. In it came, screeching as it lowered its head to skewer Markus, it's shrill screech full of hatred. Right leg pushed against the hard ground. Built up fluxed energy pushed as well. Getting him out of the way once more. But barely had the creature passed before Markus came in again. Thrusting the sword forward. Putting everything he had into the thrust. Magically enhanced legs pushed against the ground. The sword pierced through the creature's pulled back wing. Plunging the rest of the blade deep into the side of the creature. But the blade was torn from his hands as the creature bowled past him.

It screeched a pitiful sound. As it continued down the slope. It tried to extend its wings to fly. But Markus' sword kept one pinned to its side. The other flapped uselessly. Bringing it out of balance, it tumbled, onto its side. Sliding down the slope faster and faster. The balicani screeched in terror and confusion until the moment it collided heavily with a tree with the back of its neck. Its head swung around and almost managed to slap against its body. There was a loud snap as the neck broke in several places. The colossal body trashed about wildly, before it lay very still. Markus would find a tree and lean against it. Give it perhaps half a bell before he would move again. Looking at the majestic creature he had just slain... A magnificent beast, who despite all its strength and power, had been killed... It gave him pause to think as his chest heaved up and down.

Realizing then how shyke his life really was at the moment. The woman he had loved had abandoned him to go chase her past. He had not heard from her since that night. Imass was gone, taken by Rhysol. He had a squire he positively couldn't stand being around. Kreig was never around to stave off the boredom. Each day was another slow crawl towards death. Where the only excitement were quarrelling merchants and dock workers. He couldn't look himself in the mirror without seeing all of his failures piled up behind him. Each night he revisited the same nightmares, another memory of the past that he refused to deal with in the waking hours. Then came the question that had floated around in his subconscious for a while:

Am I a good knight?

Looking down into his trembling hands. Trembling from the thrill of the fight. To hear his heart beating away in his chest. As the doubt lingered in him, he realized. He was feeling content and happy for the first time since fighting Razkar. A long laughter escaped his lips. His body was an absolute mess. Scrapes all over his face and body. Both shoulders injured from multiple falls. Legs worn and weary. His body would be swollen and covered in bruises by the time he was back in Syliras. Not to mention that his body was covered in the blood from three different beings. Another close brush in with Dira, her breath down his neck and he had survived once again. Scraped by the skin of his teeth.

Still, the coarse laughter could be heard. It was only when he let loose in the realm of Myri, that the son of Sylir truly felt alive. When Dira had him dragged halfway into the grave that life felt worth living. The rest was just a slow crawl to death. The laughter turned into a rasped cough and that took the mirth out of the situation. His eyes settled on the Balicani. Still dead.

The knight stumbled over to the corpse, dragging his shield behind him. Tore the blade from the corpse of the monster. Walked to its head and with legs spread a shoulder width, he raised the Bastard and down it swung. Got halfway through the neck before the thick bones stopped the blade. The knight started to hack and chip away at the neck. Soon the head of the proud creature had been split from its body.

He would find someone to clean this out in Syliras and it would be mounted above his hearth. Never had he been one to collect trophies. But it was to serve as a reminder. A reminder for him to remember the simple truth he had discovered today.

by **Radiant** on April 12th, 2014, 8:32 am

Markus :

Notes :

My radiance is not bright enough?

If you have any questions or concerns regarding your grade, beam me a PM and we can work it out.

Skill	XP Earned
Observation	+2 XP
Running	+2 XP
Endurance	+3 XP
Acrobatics	+2 XP
Weapon: Bastard Sword	+1 XP
Flux	+1 XP

Completed Peaceful Stroll in the Forest.