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Quzon digs out a place to live.

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Syka is a new settlement of primarily humans on the east coast of Falyndar opposite of Riverfall on The Suvan Sea. [Syka Codex]

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Trench Warfare

Postby Quzon on December 16th, 2018, 7:36 am

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1st Day of Winter, 518 A.V.

It had taken Quzon upwards of sixty days to get back into his usual stride after the incident with the Whiptail. The damned beast had broken one of his ribs which made normal travel ill-advised. It was why he laid in bed for most of the Fall. The pain he felt when trying to bend over made it a personal ordeal to even get his storage chest of the weightlifting equipment to the Guest Quarters.

But, the days came and went without preforming too much physical effort. He wore the pain like a badge of honor, willingly choosing not to visit the healer to take care of the injury through magical means.

In truth, his first use of hypnosis had turned into a mistaken self hypnosis. He could not and would not let go of the memory of his foe. "That petching Whiptail". The pain motivated him to fight and he wallowed half addicted to the bloodlust. Those intense thoughts mellowed out in time, but now that need to hunt lingered in the back of his mind.

Quzon stood up to his full height then put on a simple loincloth. He ran a hand down his side to feel for any pain, and bent forward to touch his toes. The sting was gone. It meant he felt good enough to go about his business. "Finally." He said to himself in mumble Myrian.

A snarl tugged at the Myrian's lips once he cast his gaze over the Guest Quarters that he’d temporarily claimed while injured. He was tired of it, and now wanted to go make himself a more permanent base of operation. He'd already spoken to Randal shortly after the attack, and was told the perfect place that Quzon wanted would be near sharktooth of all places.

The sun had only risen one bell prior, meaning he was burning day light.

"You feeling better?" A voice called out from the guest area next to his. He turned to look at a woman carrying a ceramic pot filled with varoius supplies. He'd come to know the female as Pot Maker Nesra. He'd not really spoken to her, but they lived in close enough proximity that they spoke in passing. "Yes. Much better." His broken common was instantly noticeable to anyone half decent at the language. "Glad to hear. Well, have a nice day." He gave her a rather gruff grunt in place of a goodbye. Then Nesra turned to walk off towards the Communal Kiln.

Quzon was almost about to start his day when he realized that it was the first day of Winter.

His eyes shot wide open as he couldn't believe he'd almost forgotten how important the day was! "GURHHHHAAHA!" He screamed in joy at the top of his lungs before picking up his bottomless backpack to rummage through it. In the distance he could hear Nesra shouting at him. "WHY ARE YOU YELLING!"

Quzon didn't respond as he retrieved the skull of skeleton he found first clutching the bottomless bag where he found it, the Bone Ring, and the clear glass mask he found within the bottomless bag. He looped the belt he used to carry his weapons through one of the skulls eye sockets through a hole made to the open cavity of the nose so that it dangled face forward from his right hip. The Myrian than put on the Bone ring, and finished his celebratory outfit by putting the clear the mask on his face.

It was the time of his Queens birth celebration week back home in Taloba! Despite not being there, he would celebrate in his own way.

"I must accomplish something in the Queens name. A victory, no matter how small." He thought to himself, then realized that building himself a place to live would count as one. He set off at an easy pace towards the areas around Sharktooth, or rather, easy by his standards. Letting his bare feet falls set a trail in the sand behind him as he made his way forward.

With all of Quzon's newfound excitement, it didn't take the visibly sweating burly Mixed Blood long to reach the area of stony shores he was looking for.

He passed his gaze over the Suvan for a moment to take in its undulating inky darkness. The Myrian had spent enough time staring at the ocean while resting from his injury to get over the fact that he had become color blind. The black and white vision was just apart of his daily life now. If he ever went back to Riverfall, he knew he would invest much of his time to investigate the Tainted Shadow menace. But that was a future war to be held, he had a victory to achieve in the present.

"What we need to do now is find an acceptable foundation of stone to dig into. Or that can hold a room as an entrance before needing to dig down." Quzon spoke aloud to the skull hanging from his belt.

The Skull had become in spirit, his traveling companion. Where ever he turned its own hollow eye that didn't have a belt lashed through it would also dare to gaze. It was as if the dead mage also knew where to start looking, because it was hard to miss. The large rise of earth encompassed Sharktooth's horizon.

"I don't want to build a home close to here. Lets follow the shore to circle around it then make our way inland to the jungle on its opposite end." The plan was a simple one which he followed as he walked along the beach passed Shark tooth, then turning inland as he winded around a few standing stones to venture beyond the treeline.

Last edited by Quzon on July 8th, 2019, 2:23 am, edited 2 times in total.
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Trench Warfare

Postby Quzon on March 19th, 2019, 1:18 pm

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A focused gaze transfixed itself on the trees as Quzon passed them, eyeing the way the strangler fig vines wound themselves up the tucks of trees until they grew apart of the canopy. In a familiarly alien way, the fig connected many trees together in some places showing a predatory unity within Caiyha's sphere of influence. It was a passing thought that lingered in the back of his mind even after returning his gaze to the path before him. Quzon wanted to celebrate, but celebration would mean little to him if he were slain by anything that lurked in the jungle.

"You make too much noise in the jungle, heavy foot." Quzon imagined the skull on his hip saying it which made it easier for him to talk to himself. "I know." He murmured to himself in myrian. "Then pay attention." In a weird way he shook himself out of his partying mood the further he moved inland. He paused, mid-stride as he lifted a hand to slide the clear mask he wore so that it rested along the back of his head. The pause was brought on by the fact he could see a stone cliff in the distance. Quzon moved with a slow caution as the dense jungle brush on the ground floor was still a thing he had to push through.

One always needed to worry about Dhani when on patrol in the jungle. It was just a precaution of prejudice his people had. Although, it was not one he personally felt unless he were still in the Taloban Army. However, it was always smart to not want to get bitten by a snake or strangled to death by one. That was why he paid close attention to the general twenty feet all around him, keeping his head on a swivel. His right hand pulled free the hand-axe tucked into his belt to use it to nudge aside a few hedges that seemed suspicious. His military built paranoia did not pay off as he quickly found himself in front of the cliff face unmolested by jungle dangers.

The rock cliff looked relatively tall enough to be a nice challenge to climb at some point in time, but today was not the day for it. Quzon approached the cliff to run his palm along the stone to feel the texture of it. It was obviously hard as rock. That much was obvious from the sound it made when he rapt his knuckles against it. His axe was stored back in his belt so he could retrieve his mining pick out from his backpack. It was heavily weighted and designed to strike at a steeper angle to drive through stone. He held the haft of the pick firmly in both hand as he lifted it over his head, then drove it down in an arch to pierce into the stone. He put a fair bit of muscle behind it to drive the pick in an inch. A twist was made to pry bits of the stone away which fell to the floor.

"It did not splinter or expose soft dirt below. That's a good sign." He picked up the pebble of stone that dislodged from the wall to examine it closer. In a way, he wanted to get to know the earth to better aid in his focus to move it. And in an even stranger way, he put that pebble in his mouth as he turned to set up his campsite. Quzon busied himself by using his axe to chop away at bushes and any branches to toss them into a pile that would work as firewood.

Quzon used the mining pick in his hand like a garden hoe, slamming the pick into the ground to up root and pull a particularly stubborn bush out of the ground. It took him about thirty chimes to clear enough space for a somewhat permanent campsite. He'd put his tent up many ties before, so it just took him five more to lay out the ground tarp, place the main tent on top of it, hammer the stakes into the ground, and raise a pole that stood on its own from the tension of the ropes tied to the stakes. It was a process he repeated on the back end of the tent to finish the process.

The last thing he did to make himself feel at home was to remove the skull from his belt and place it to the right of the tent entrance. "Keep an eye on the place for me." It was an ironic statement as he moved slowly along the edge of the clearing, looking out to see if anything was watching him. All he had to depend on was himself for safety and he knew it. He shifted the rock to rest in his cheek like a chipmunk storing away an acorn for later. It was going to take a fair bit of work, but he believed he could turn the place into something he'd be proud of.

"Shelter is going to come easy enough. My main need will be finding a fresh water source near by." If he said it aloud, then it was a task he'd set off to do. But for now he had his water skin. A sudden blow of air sent the pebble spitting from his mouth into his free hand. Quzon lifted the mining pick to remove a clump of dirt from it by grinding the rock along the metal tip that had gotten dirty from his yard work with it.

Just because Quzon had reimancy at his disposal did not mean he was just going to start using it. No, he removed his backpack to store everything in the tent, leaving him only adorned in weaponry, spike gauntlets, and a loincloth. He approached the wall to eyeball where he wanted his front door to be, then placed the tip of the pick at the center of it. He lifted the pick to send it crashing against the cliff face again, working on manually digging for his daily dose of exercise.

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Postby Quzon on March 25th, 2019, 8:58 pm

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The muscles undulating under pale skin were wryly stretched when the stout half isur lifted the pickaxe overhead into a starting position. It remained there only for a moment before he drove the pickax down with both arms. A clattering sound of metal against stone caused the tip to ricochet off of the surface with every other stroke, pausing his smooth rowing motion when he needed to pull the pick free when it was embedded in the wall.

Quzon set into the motions like he were mining for gems rather than excavating a home. The swinging of the pick from overhead was a full body motion that caused his arms to grow heavy with each stroke. The taut muscles of his arms, back, and shoulders rippled from the stress of his anaerobic exercise of carving into hard stone. A good sized melon chunk of the wall fell to the ground when he retracted the axe. Once he got a good sign of headway, it just motivated him to continue going. Especially when the stone erupted into bright white flashes when the metal hit across it in just the right way.

This was how Quzon spent the first three bells of his day. He took breaks ever few chimes, but this was the rhythm he followed as Syna slowly moved towards the noontime peak. Quzon had done enough work to carve in a door sized alcove that inset two feet into the wall. It wasn’t flush with the base of the cliff because he knew he’d want to add step to avoid water drainage into the home from the constant rain in typhoon seasons.

It was a good start.

If he were not a wilder of elemental arcane, this would have been where he stopped for the morning to pick up later in the day after a rest. However, it would have been too easy. The man wanted a challenge on this day in honor of Myri. He shook out his arm to offer the muscles some relief before setting a twin handed hammer grip onto the pickax to return to his work. Even as his body tired and the sweat gathered around his brow, Quzon pushed onward as if he were a slave driver with a deadline to reach.

The morning sky transitioned to the placid violet orange of oncoming nightfall as the sun fell beyond the horizon. By that time Quzon sat within a three foot roughly hune alcove of his own creation. In a way, it was like a small cave that he skulked in with his back to the wall as he looked out towards his tent. He lifted a waterskin to his lips to drink deeply from it.

SNAP!

A searing pain surged through the hand that was holding the waterskin. It caused him to throw the container away to examine his hand. Was he just bitten by a bug? Or was he just attacked by something? The answer was easy enough to see once he held the hand up. "What the..." His index finger had stretched, surpassing his middle finger to become the longest digit. His eyes shifted from the finger to the skin on the back of his hand. "What is happening?" The Myrian growled out as if threatening his own body. The normally pale skin started to transition into a scaled pattern. He ran his free hand over it to feel the softness of skin as he found out that It only looked like scales.

The flesh started to sunder as the rest of the bones in all of his fingers splintered. They both started to feel like they were imploding as he watched as all of his fingers slowly elongated. Quzon was still colorblind, but could tell that he's skin had turned darker; a deep bronze color mixed grey and green accent. It truly felt like he was being tortured as his fingernails started to pull and grow into jagged curves. Quzon tried to remain valiant throughout the transition, but the growing of three-inch claws caused groans to rumble in his throat.

There was a small pause after his fingers had stopped morphing that made the Myrian thought it was all over. But he was wrong, his valiant silent endurance of it all turned to gurgles of pain as every one of his teeth started grow rapidly out from his gums. That pain caused him to groan out like he'd just got punched in the mouth.

His hands shot up to caress his face that now surged with pain. In response, he accidentally scratched himself with his own claws. He flinched away from his own hands before carefully opening his mouth to to feel that all of his teeth were now elongated and sharp enough to rival a wolf. Even his eyes started to hurt as he felt them swell up enough to press painfully against the eye sockets, before shrinking down to size again. The Myrian had no mirror or reflective surface to see that even his eyes had altered into reptilian slitted pupils, all he knew was that they had changed as well. He remained within the alcove for a few chimes after his transformation. The shifting of his body was seemingly over, at least for the moment.

Quzon pushed himself out of his thoughts and turned his attention to his surroundings. Was this due to some strange working of arcane? Was he a target? He exited from the alcove to wander around the campsite until he decided there was no one around. It if wasn't a person, then it was the influence of something on his person. "The Mask or maybe the ring?" His eyes glanced down to the bone ring on his finger.

Quzon did not consider himself a mage, but he did understand the nature of djed. He was no book learned scholar, his magic was taught to him by a patent, then trained in the very the Jungle Wilds. By nature, magic was his apart of his survival instinct. The strangeness of the transformation terrified him, but also peaked his curiosity. And since it did not kill him, then he was fine to remove fear from the forefront of his mind. Fear was the death of motivation in survival situations.

He found himself staring at the claws on his hands. He glanced up from them to a near tree that he walked over to, then with a raised hand slashed out at the tree bark. Human sized claw marks gashed at the wood as he nodded to himself. "Useful."

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Trench Warfare

Postby Quzon on March 27th, 2019, 7:22 pm

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1st Day of Winter, 518 A.V

Quzon started to talk himself through where he first found the ring to figure out any clues about his current predicament. "The Coalinga mines. It was surrounded by a gem deposit."

He stated to himself in Myrian as he walked to the tent to retrieve his backpack, reaching in to pull out a rough gemstone of immaculate alabaster white. Quzon remembered the words the one Akalak workers told him in that mine. "The ring was found within a Moonstone deposit. If what they said was true, Moonstone forms only in places where Leth deems beautiful."

It was the first time since obtaining the bone ring that Quzon had any interest in it. Did the ring have importance to the god of the Moon? His eyes shifted up towards the now night sky. He'd had the ring on since the start of the day, but only now did it force his body into the change. It was the most reasonable idea the warrior-mage could come up with as he turned back to the alcove he'd dug.

"I need to find someone who knows more about the moon god." He spoke aloud towards the skull on the ground. He wasn't speaking to it, but saying his thoughts aloud gave them weight in reality like he had to do it because his word was his bond. Quzon stored the Moonstone away into the backpack as he continued to examine his own body. The physicality of his stocky frame remained the same along with his height. The tattoos along his left arm were now strangely even more beautiful with the new scale patterns that formed their background.

Whatever it was that happened, it just made Quzon more cautious for the future as he ran a fingertip along the knuckles of his other hand. If this change was permanent then he'd just have to live with it. His body felt fine, but he worried about how this altered his inner being, his soul. Those unseen workings of his djed that allowed him to will forth the elements. Quzon positioned himself in front of the alcove where he sat down to the right of it.

The newly changed reptilian-mixed blood brought his attention onto his breathing. There was a calmness to the jungle that aided in the process as Quzon focused within himself. His chest rose as he let the air flow in through his nostrils and out from his mouth. He could feel the beating of his heart within his chest. And the more he focused on it, the more he began to become less aware of the sounds of the jungle as he focused on the sensations of his chest. Quzon had no control of his breathing, he only focused on feeling the natural movement of himself.

He sat there for several chimes, mainly to focus his mind while at the same time waiting to see if any other changes would happen. As his meditations neared a bell, Quzon acted within the ebb and flow of his heart beat to send his focus deeper into the sea of his djed. Like throwing a pebble into a pond, he disturbed his djed to will it into motion. Following the motion of his breaths, he could feel the taste of magic on his tongue as he emitted res from his tongue in a gaseous form within his mouth.

Inhale, exhale. He spewed forth the res into a singular cloud that was exactly the size of his head in volume. With newfound focus and practiced control, the Reimancer willed the gas cloud to orbit around his head.

Quzon heard a voice, but it didn't truly register what he was being asked, not at first. Taking deep breaths as he contemplated himself, as well as focusing his mind on willing the cloud closer towards the alcove, he shifted his eyes towards the treeline of the clearing to his left. The first thing he noticed was that person also carried the mark of Myri. But the second thing caused his eyes to narrow at the female.

She looked just like he did. Or at least, what Quzon had now become.

ImageQuzon just barely manged to recognize that her lips were moving after having spoken something softly. But the woman did steady her arm on the hilt of a sheathed longsword.

Was she now going to attack him? Or was this some type of trick inflicted on those marked of the Queen Goddess that were trying to honor her birth? They were questions that Quzon did not know she could answer, but shifted his attention to his res as he willed it towards the ground by the alcove near the waste rock he'd carved away using the pickaxe.

"I didn't know anyone else was out here. I was just out looking for a fight and it looks like I've found one. Where did you come from? I don't know you, which is surprising." The woman said with a curious smirk from seemingly meeting a stranger who happened to be another one of her kind that was also marked by the same goddess as herself. Her eyes glanced from Quzon, then the pickaxe, and lastly the ethereal cloud of emerald green Res by the cave. Quzon was about to speak to her when suddenly he felt as if he'd been stabbed by the woman's longsword. It was a pain so intense that the Reimancer lost hovering control of his res which caused it to drop to the ground where it remained like a small mist.


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Quzon
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Trench Warfare

Postby Quzon on March 30th, 2019, 11:55 pm

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A steady surge of anxiety and agony swept through Quzon’s body. He felt as if a fire wrought itself almost violently over his senses as if he were within deaths grasp. The pain caused him to make an uncharacteristic sound of weakness, one that lingered between bloodcurdling and a guttural roar. But what pain was there to think about as he looked down to find all the bones of his rib cage expanding outward like a tent being pitched. The bones all shifting as the flesh above them stretched taut across them.

The woman approving him gasped in utter shock which was a sound partnered with the whisk of a blade being unsheathed. She watched as Quzon fell to his side to convulse violently on the ground. It was a sound that caused him to shift his eyes towards her if only for a moment. It was an instinctual glare through the pain to see if she were about to swiftly end his life. The gaze held only for a tick before his concentration was broken when his torso and spine started to widen and elongate. The loincloth and belt he wore snapped from the strain against them, causing his weapons to fall to the ground. The scaled pattern of his skin started to rise, sprouting up into actual scales that started to line his entire body.

For all Quzon knew, the entire process from his perspective seemed to go on forever. In reality only a handful of few chimes went by as the Ring of Change turned him into a creature coated in amber gold scales gilded with hints of emerald green and silver patterns across his form. It was odd, that in the moments where he stopped resisting the change, just like a morpher when correctly executed, the pain lessened. But then his anxiety led him to press hands against body parts that wanted to shift leading to excruciating pain from the unexpected nature of the change.

Gradually the labored breathing of Quzon's heaving chest steadied when the pain subsided. The woman's eyes went wide as she watched Quzon lay on his underbelly in attempt to stand. His body had grown in size comparable to that of a large horse, although long and lean. A thrumming came from his wolfen maw of razor blades, his voice deep as he stood up, digging the six inch long claws of his hands into the ground.

Quzon shook his head to jostle himself back into the reality of the situation only to feel that his head was weighed down. Not heavily, but with a strange center of gravity. That was due to the long elaborate horns that stretched back from his skull to curl in elaborate ways before ending in pointed tips. His stilted eyes fell onto the woman who now seemingly stood before a full Velispar. A heavy huff from his nostrils caused the beard dressing his face to sway in the breeze.

The changed man stood there in stunned silence as he examined his own body. He lifted a clawed hand to look down at the reptilian nature of it. What had he become? It was a thought he'd have reflected on if it had not been for the sensation of a divine touch within him. Quzon felt pride in the mark of Prowess he'd received from Myri, but now he felt the first mark bond of Leth upon him.

The woman held her her sword downward in some attempt to seem non-hostile, but at the same time not disarming herself to talk with the Verusk that had turned into a Velispar. Or was a Velispar that could hold the facade of a Verusk. She did not know if she had made the person mad to have triggered the change to inflict violence upon her. The thought of its magic was also a worrying thought to also have to combat if it came down to it. "Wait! I'm sorry to have disturbed you... I did not mean to trespass on the territory of a Velispar. I will leave." She said while slowly inching backwards away from him.

Telepathy, it is the ability to communicate into the minds of others who are touched by moonlight, a blessing granted by Leth the god of change, reflection, and thought. He took a step forward with his hind leg that was further back along his elongated body. It felt odd as the back end of his body swayed, causing his tail to flick brazenly behind him with little control. "Who are you?" It was a question asked through focus of the mark to run through the woman's mind. To hear a foreign voice in her head was terrifying in its own way. "I am Seraya. A protector of Syka. What may I call you?" Quzon watched her inch slowly further behind a tree to half peak around it to aid in whatever sort of defense she would try to mount.

Quzon refrained from answering her question. He was currently not in the disposition to be the one on the receiving end of questions. He only wanted answers. Everything in his mind focused inward towards himself, he was scared. Afraid of the strangeness of his own body. But how could he fear himself? To be in a world where all he had was himself, but now lurked in a primal state of fight or flight where he would even fight himself. It was a confusing anxiety that caused his breathing to grow more sporadic.

No, never panic. "Panic is the ally of loss on the battlefield." It was a phrase he reminded himself that his teachers told him when in the Taloban Army.

In some attempt to feel like himself, Quzon vented out in the form of a heavy roaring yell while willing his djed into motion. To will his arcane was to focus inward, and at least that well of arcane still felt the same. The res lingering like a gas instantly triggered with attraction, ripping the ground upwards, causing a jagged two foot spike to protrude from the ground as he clawed tightly at the ground.

Seraya instantly took off in a focused sprint in the opposite direction, heading back towards Syka to leave the Velispar be. If Quzon were in the right state of mind, he'd have done the same thing in her position. A tactical retreat was best to fight another day rather than a flee in panic.

The beastal shout was something he needed to compose himself. A lot of things just happened to him and he needed time to come to terms with all of it.

Quzon tried to take a step when suddenly he felt his hand resist his command to lift. The Velispar looked down to find a hand that clawed into the ground had seemingly slipped a good eight inches deep into the ground. As he focused upon lifting his hand again, the ground yielded to his arm like pulling it from the surface of the Suvan Sea. It left him in a state of confusion as he stared at his own hand, flickering that gaze towards the earthen spike he made, then to the skull by the tent to share a glance with the dead mage that was ironically his most trusted, nonexistent, friend at the moment to be with him through the situation.

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Postby Quzon on April 27th, 2019, 11:06 am

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Quzon's heart paused, not literally but metaphorically.

All of the alarms of panic going off in his head started to wane once the main transformation had ended, leaving him only a man... no, beast. A beast alone in the jungle. Without really thinking about it, he started to move about the perimeter of his campsite to inspect how his elongated body now moved. Like a newborn baby deer learning how to walk, he needed to find how to gait on all fours. It was nothing like crawling on all fours, nor was he a kelvic who was used to such natural rhythms. This was all unnatural to him. His left fore claw swung forward along with his right hind leg, repeating with the other legs.

He circled around his campsite a few times before pressing his hands into the ground to take off into a quickened gallop. As he was moving, Quzon stared at the ground then focused on the feeling when his hands sunk into the ground. His next stride was met with his arms sinking into the ground like water. There was a heavy trepidation within him, but his hand was unharmed when it happened before so as his upper body sunk into the ground he just kept moving his hands as if wanting to continue forward. The rest of his body followed as he then completely submerged into the ground. In a strange way he felt at home in harmony with the earth caressing him.

It felt as though he were swimming in the suvan. Maybe it was that sensation that made it feel like he needed to grasp at the earth to paddle himself onward. In much the same way dogs or horses swam, he felt himself moving faster. Quzon lost felt an amazing level of wonderment the further he 'swam'. It was crazy to thing he was swimming through the earth. It was as crazy an idea as people flying through the sky without wings. He clawed upward, pulling himself towards the surface only upon realizing that he was traveling. Where had he gone?

Quzon's razor filled maw broke the surface as he climbed from the ground. His Image slitted eyes focusing on a female who he appeared to have startled. He did not know where in the Maw he was, but now he found himself at the end of a bow being aimed at him with intent to possibly fire.

Being a Myrian himself, or rather a full Myrian through blooding. Quzon could tell she had some hints of the culture in the way she dressed; at least when it came to surviving in the jungle. He spoke out to her in his Myrian native tongue ater not feeling the touch of Myri's mark upon her. "Calm yourself, Un-Blooded. Know that if you fire that arrow, you'll have started your last fight. Now, which clan are you from?" Quzon's claws etched into the ground, digging in more so to aid in charging at her if he needed to. He wanted to test out how deadly they were on a living creature. But, this wasn't exactly how he wanted to do it. Not on a fellow Myrian, and definitely not on one so unworthy as to be unblooded.

Quzon could not place the marking she wore on her face to any clan he knew of. The woman was clearly shaken by the large creature now speaking to her that had popped out from the ground. She glanced down towards her side where a pack laid, contemplating if she would need to abandon what appeared to be a freshly killed barking deer. "I am from no clan." She responded back to him in common. It meant she could at least speak the language, but did not want to speak it. "I am a Sykan."

Her bow lowered but was not set aside, ready to be raised and fired if she felt the need to. That action was all Quzon wanted her to do. If she was a Sykan, then she was one that he never crossed paths with. It did make sense though given that he wasn't the most sociable of people. It was the second time tonight that he was being stared at with a strange look of fearful curiosity. He was never really looked at with acceptance growing up by his people, and it was through blooding that he eventually got some small amounts of respect for being a half blood. But now, could he even call himself a Myrian anymore? Or an Isur. What was he now that he was two halves of nothing?

His eyes flitted towards the ground for a moment to brake the woman's gaze. That was a question he did not want to think about before glancing around the area. "What is your name?" He asked as he realized he could hear the sounds of water in the distance. "The river?" The Velispar thought to himself as he tried to find his bearings since he knew what direction he was going in the earth, but not what was above it.

"My name is Indigo." She stated while slowly removing the arrow from the bow. "If you are not going to attack me, then may I return to the settlement?" She said it in such an odd way to Quzon. His common was still rather bad, but he felt like she was asking an alpha predator permission to leave its territory. That brought a slight smirk to the edge of his maw which only served to flash the ivory blade of his teeth. "As a fellow Sykan. Yes. You may." If that was how she was him, then he just continued to play the part.

He stood there watching Indigo as she hurriedly gathered up her things. She wasn't sure if the beast meant it felt that Syka was his territory, or was somehow with the other scaled Verusk in the city. Either way, she was at least glad to not be mauled to death tonight. Quzon called out to her as she attempted to sprint away. "You eat what you kill. Don't forget your kill. Take it." Indigo halted to pick up her kill, slinging the smallish jungle deer around her shoulders to carry it off in an eastward direction towards the coast.

No doubt the two woman he'd terrified this night would have a similar story to tell around the commons tonight. Quzon submerged into the ground once she'd taken off, then found his way back to his campsite. The night tolled onward as, unbeknownst to him, he only had a bell left of the transformation left.

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Quzon
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Trench Warfare

Postby Quzon on April 27th, 2019, 6:20 pm

Image

Quzon no longer felt uncomfortable in his new skin. In truth, the experience with Indigo made him feel like this was how he was suppose to live. A proper body for a predator. He grew through this experience. And this was one hell of an experience. He wasn't sure if the body was permanent, but to alleviate any false hope. Quzon assumed that this was now just how he was going to live. The small alcove in the cliff face that he made with the pickax seemed minuscule to his current size now.

The Earth Velispar glided over towards the wall, his tail moving in less of a flick, and more of a slither behind him as he went. Quzon reclined down onto the ground like a lazy panther, arms crossing out in front as he stared a the ground. A finger rose to drag a sharpened claw along the ground to draw a picture in the dirt.

Quzon did not know much about architecture, but he knew what miners did to keep a cave from collapsing. He'd even used reimancy to create a pillar to act as support for the underside of a bridge when in the Riverfall Gem mines. At the bare minimum, he knew to at least be aware that the more he removed, the less stable the stone above it would be.

He used his claw to draw a horizontal rectangle to act as the entrance to his house. A small U-shape was made on one side of it to act as the spot where the entrance would be. A nicely sized square was drawn to the right side of the rectangle. That square would be his room. Or at least where he'd make his bedroom for now. On the opposite side of the rectangle he made another square for everything else. It was basic, but Quzon at least now had an outline as to how to make his home rather than just carving things out by random.

Now he just had bring his idea into reality.

Quzon's colorblindness offered him a rather interesting way to focus his mind when he needed to concentrate. All he had were the memories of what colors were. The memories of the red of an apple, the blue of the sky, the placid orange of the sky at twilight. Those colors were all in his past. As he stared into the deep, deep blackness of the cliff side, he tried to focus his visual awareness into a painting in his minds eye.

His breathing started to lull as he focused on transitioning the heaviest points of blackness into a color. The placid orange of twilight. As the ambient sounds of the jungle lingered around, he simply did his best to ignore them as he now thought about a purple cliff side covered in dark vines and foliage he'd yet to give color. The focus he used to visualize was shifted from the image to the deep well of djed within him.

That picture faded away as he disturbed the well to cause ripples to flow through his body. He willed forth a a vaporous emerald colored res from a singular point on his forehead. The amount of res Quzon summoned was not excessive, but exactly the amount he needed to. The cloud that lingered above him was comparable in full size to the volume of his reptilian body.

The Velispar rose from where he laid while willing his res into a shape. A rectangle to be exact. With that amount, he imparted his will onto the vapor to lightly pull earth towards it. Quzon did not want to rip, destroy, and shatter the stone away at random. He only to remove the immediate earth that interacted with the physical nature of his res as he pushed it forward.

The further his res went forward into the stone, the more earth was grabbed by his res to coagulate around it to form an earthen shell around it. A vaguely rectangular shape of his res started to form within the cliff side like the core of a mold.

"Slow."

The word was spoken aloud as incantation. A word to express his will onto what he wanted his res to do. The power of the attraction was done with intent. When the shell was fully covered, then it could no longer touch further stone. That was the signifying point where he removed the cloud from the newly made door way. He guided his res a few feet away to the side of the wall where he steady exhaled a breath to completely halt the attraction of his res to cause all of the stone around it to drop all of the ground in an excavation pile that he would recycle to be used for supports, or just leave around as stone to create cave supports or fencing around his land.

The cave like shape of a doorway was now gone leaving a recognizable door shape that would be the entrance into his future home. Quzon stepped a sharpened claw into it to find that gauge its size. The entrance was tall enough for him to fit thorough it in his new reptilian form. His entire perspective had increased from a man sized living space to fit his current size.

The former Myrian did not know the proper architectural name for it, but he'd just made a entrance way that would lead into a front 'foyer' area that he was now about to make; or as he called it in myrian the 'bridge rectangle' of his drawing.

As he was in the middle of building his home, the ruffling of noise behind him caught his attention. It was a rather obvious sound of multiple people approaching him. Quzon turned to meet his new visitors to find both of the women who he'd interacted with each flanking the sides of a rather imposing large man with a drawn long sword.

ImageDuncan had informed him of Buraga when he first arrived to Syka. The human warrior was said to have been someone the Myrian would care to be around, given their propensity towards fighting. He'd not spoken to Buraga, but had brief contact with him around the settlement defender in passing.

"Given you are on the land allotted to Quzon. And are a Reimancer as well... I take it that you are him?" Buraga was clearly more inquisitive than frightened by the Velispar in front of him. Seraya spoke up quickly after. "Yes, it matches what you told me of him. A Myrian. Although he looked more like my kind when I met him. Then turned right into his current form before my eyes." Of the two, Indigo seemed to just be tagging along only because she was involved in the incident. "Yes, he is what startled me in the Maw."

Whenever he shifted his head, the beard hanging from his maw shifted like some wizened sage. He focused his slitted eyes on each of them before setting on the human warrior. "I am he." Quzon responded in common. It was kept curt for lack of him wanting to put in proper effort for his poor common language skill. Buraga just stared at Quzon with one idea in mind. "Well, you could have told someone that you were a morpher. We can't have you just going around frightening the women-folk, can we?" The Settlement Defender said it in a playfully jabbing way, mostly aimed at Seraya. "I wasn't scared. I just used common sense to get away from something that seemed dangerous. Look at him! You should have seen the way his chest nearly burst during the change"

She motioned a hand towards Quzon causing all of his guest to just stare at his torso. An awkwardly silent moment went by before Quzon took a step towards them. "I am morphed now. No threat, just this now." Was he a Morpher now? Or just a Morphed? He knew there were skilled shape changers in Taloba who practiced the skill, but he was given the ability through a ring. "Other than shocking them, you've done nothing wrong. The first of which was on your own land. So... just stay out of trouble. I will tell the founders about this in the morning though."

Buraga turned to Seraya then stared right into her eyes. It cause Seraya to quirk a brow as Indigo even glanced back and forth between the two. Quzon stared at them just like Indigo did wondering what they were doing. The Human then spoke in the most overly gallant way possible, "You have now been defended!" Buraga then turned turned to walk away to continue patrolling the settlement... or go take a nap given how early it was. It left each and every one of the non-humans standing there dumbfounded as the man seemed to playfully end all of the lingering tension in the air with a few words.

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Quzon
Victory & Power
 
Posts: 280
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Joined roleplay: August 20th, 2013, 11:30 pm
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