PM to join [The Wildlands] Storm Warning (Victor)

Kelski, unused to the finicky ways of the Wildlands, gets caught out in a storm.

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While Sylira is by far the most civilized region of Mizahar, countless surprises and encounters await the traveler in its rural wilderness. Called the Wildlands, Syliran's wilderness is comprised of gradual rolling hills in the south that become deep wilderness in the north. Ruins abound throughout the wildlands, and only the well-marked roads are safe.

[The Wildlands] Storm Warning (Victor)

Postby Kelski on September 9th, 2019, 5:26 am

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Timestamp: 10th of Fall, 519 A.V.


It was early morning and the sky was calling her. The Kelvic slipped from bed, detangling herself from two other Kelvics - one her best friend and one her niece - and stretched. She was hungry, having worked late into the night in her workshop, finishing an order for a set of wedding rings one of the svefra had brought her from Zeltiva. It had been a particularly difficult creation and she'd gone to bed exhausted. Still stiff from sleeping like a log and then being used as a pillow, Kelski walked out onto the balcony of her tower room and drew in a big deep breath. The sea air was refreshing and there was no scent of decay anywhere around her. Sunberth had always smelled like something rotting to her... a great beast that had sprawled out in death on the shores and then proceeded to decay.

Kelski couldn't sail away from that stench of that city fast enough, and while she hadn't quite made it to Zeltiva as she'd planned... this little piece of paradise on the shores of Matthew's Bay was far more than she could ask for. Gratitude filled her as she stretched once more, out overlooking the wildlands, the mountains at her back and the sea before her.

The Kelvic muttered as her stomach grumbled again. She wasn't in the mood for human food. Bread sometimes tasted bland to her and the thought of some toasted bread and tea turned her stomach. She wanted a fat wiggling salmon or maybe a few big trout if she could find some sunning on the top of the water. Even the fresh bloody meat of a squirming rabbit would suit her better than plain light human fare.

Kelski slipped out of her nighshirt, leaving her skin bare to the wind, stretched her arms out, and traded her human skin for black and silver feathers in a swirl of colored lights. She launched her significant wingspan off the tower balcony and circled once catching an updraft and calling out a welcome into the slowly lightening morning mist. The Sea Eagle backwinged, gathering power, and slowly lifted higher into the sky staying well above the treeline and beginning her scouting up and down the southern shore of Mathews Bay.

Her stomach continued to grumble which sharpened her focus as she trailed along the shoreline. There were indeed fat fish in the water, some close enough to snag. She circled once, impatient and driven by her hunger, and then folded her wings into a dive. The Sea Eagle swooped, pulled up at the last minute with her talon's outstretched, and made a grab for a salmon. The fish saw her, dove, and she ended up with talons full of salt water.

Having anticipated the weight of the fish, she pulled up extra hard, floundered, then splashed down into the water in her full feathered form. Swearing mentally, Kelski traded feathers for skin in a swirl of color, gasping at the shock of the cold salt water. Struggling still, she floundered towards the shore, which was several yards away, and ended up fighting the current.

As she half drowned half swam, the Kelvic decided bread was sounding better and better, especially with warm tea. And as she realized she wasn't a strong enough swimmer to make it to the shore without assistance, the Kelvic stopped struggling to swim and drew on the core of her magic. She pulled hard at her djed, realizing she was surrounded by an element that was her friend, and pulled res out of herself infusing the surrounding water. It solidified, buoying her up, and then began to gently propel herself towards the shore with another hot breath of res. It took a long time and a great deal of concentration to bump her sorry carcass up against the shore to where she could climb out and shake off.

Kelski knew her feathers were wet in her other form, and before long she'd have to transform and dry them. But first she needed a fire to do so... or else she'd have to walk all the way back to the tower without a stitch of clothing on and probably freeze.

Tilting her head up, she checked the sharpness of the wind, shivering in her wet skin. Kelski had no idea how she'd make a fire, not without any real gear to use, but she had to try. And that began with gathering wood, finding some tinder, then figuring out how to light it up. She regretted her impulse to leave without any supplies - she was big enough as an eagle to carry a pack in her animal form - and now she was paying the price.

Combing the shoreline, Kelski scavenged for supplies, picking up wood and piling it against a rock where it would be protected from the wind. She had no fire as a reimancer, but she knew the fire triangle. She needed heat, fuel, and air to get the fire going. She needed to find some way to light it without matches, without supplies, and without so much as a flit or steel. So Kelski gathered tinder, studied it, and began to plan. She wasn't walking home. She was flying home.. and for that she needed dry feathers. For dry feathers she needed fire.

Grumbling, the Kelvic broke off a stick to create a spindle with, selected a piece of drift wood that would work to create friction with, and began to rub her palms up and down the spindle trying to create enough friction to spark the wood and light the tinder.

A half hour later, she was mostly blue, sweating despite the cold, and her hands were blistered and starting to bleed. It was not going to be a good day and she knew sooner or later she'd just have to start walking back, especially since she could scent a storm on the horizon.
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[The Wildlands] Storm Warning (Victor)

Postby Victor Flint on September 9th, 2019, 3:57 pm

Victor made his steady way through the forest. His past couple of weeks in these woods had taught him two things: that they were quite dangerous and that the prey was sparse. He had returned to Zeltiva many evenings with little to nothing to show for his hours spent here. After 6 hours, a rabbit or two are not a very satisfying haul -- even if the stew is delicious.

Victor decided to hunt by weaving his way between the shore and mountain range and had resolved not to leave until he was satisfied with his catch -- or it became too dangerous to stay, which he recognised as a chillingly likely possibility. He dismissed the thought from his mind. There had been no disturbing signs so far, 2 hours into his hunt, so he was cautiously optimistic. He had made his way quite far from the city and was considering making his way back around, when he noticed a small flock of birds flying very low, just above the treeline. His heart dropped. He had been so concerned with animal signs, he forgot to pay proper attention to the weather. When he had started out it had been too dark to really tell much, but now that he was looking, it was clear to see -- there was a storm coming.

Victor debated whether he would have enough time to get back to Zeltiva before it hit, but he dismissed the idea. He was not familiar enough with the area to be able to progress through the woods fast enough without getting lost. He had marked various trees on his path, but he dreaded the possibility of missing a mark in his hurry and ending up lost in the wilderness -- and during a storm no less! No, he grudgingly accepted that he would have to wait the storm out here, in which case he needed to find shelter as soon as possible.

He scanned the area around him. He reasoned that if he headed upwards towards the mountains, he would have a better chance of finding a protected little outcropping to huddle under and weather the storm. In the meantime, he kept a vigilant eye on the surrounding area for suitable wood to burn, and especially for kindling and tinder. If everything got wet, it would be that much harder to get a fire started and he had no desire to spend hours soaked and cold.

Absorbed in his thoughts and unfamiliar with the area, however, Victor was surprised by the scent of the sea suddenly growing stronger, the trees thinning and opening out to reveal the shoreline. He had been heading in the opposite of his intended direction for who knows how long and none the wiser until just then! Appalled at his lacking abilities, especially seeing as any mistake could be his last in the wilds of Mizahar, he started to re-orient himself, while absently marking a tree with his "turn back" sign.

His self-recriminations were interrupted however, as the silence of the woods, interspersed with the gentle sound of waves, was disturbed almost imperceptibly, by the distinct sound of muffled speech --or that's what Victor hoped it was in any case. He could not discern anything about the speaker, except their general direction. Knowing what kind of people one might encounter in the woods, Victor nervously readied his bow. If they were friendly, they might be able to pool their resources and better weather this storm out together, rather than apart. If not, Victor might have to face two life-threatening events in one afternoon --two too many as far as he was concerned.

As he approached the source of the noise, dividing his attention between the area ahead and where he was stepping --to avoid a crunchy autumn leaf alerting the stranger to his approach-- he became better able to discern the sound as someone's very annoyed grumblings. He couldn't remember the last time he had heard "petch" used so frequently or inventively in a sentence. He thought the voice sounded female and he was also becoming aware of sharp intakes of breath interspersing her invective --pain?

She was so focused on her task, it was unlikely that she would notice his approach, but surviving meant never letting down your guard, no matter the circumstances, so he continued his methodical way towards her. When he figured he was within comfortable shooting distance, Victor bolstered his resolve and jumped out from the treeline onto the sandy beach, bow pointed straight at where he calculated the woman to be... and almost loosed his nocked arrow in shock. Naked, rivulets of blood running down her hands as she used resources obviously scrounged from the area trying to light a fire --it's not just her use of "petch" that's resourceful then he thought-- the woman was in clear need of some assistance.

Victor lowered his bow and half-turned, making sure to keep her in his peripheral vision. "Ma'am, pardon the intrusion, but might I be of some assistance?" he said, in the most none-threatening way he could manage given the circumstances. You really never did know what you might encounter in the wilds.
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[The Wildlands] Storm Warning (Victor)

Postby Kelski on September 23rd, 2019, 12:26 am

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“I’m glad you didn’t want to shoot me.” The Kelvic said, half turning, but not stopping her whirling of the spindle she was trying to use to create a fire without a fire bow or flint and steel. “That would have made an already horrible day even worse.” She said calmly as she concentrated. Her hands hurt. It really wasn’t the best plan to twirl a spindle bow into another piece of driftwood in the pouring rain.

“I had an accident.” She explained, glancing over her shoulder at him as she kept up her activity. “So now I’m stuck out here with no clothing, no fire, and I’m about to freeze.” She said with only a fringe of irritation coloring her tone. She sounded disgusted, but it was more with herself than with the situation. She was failing horribly in an emergency situation and she couldn’t think clearly because she was too cold. “If you have a bit of flint and steel or a spare cloak or even a blanket I would be forever grateful for a loan of one.” She said through chattering teeth, though she still whirled the bow.

The woman wasn’t human. The closer he got the more he would be able to see that her eyes were silver and that her lips were dark as too was the tissue inside of her mouth and at the corner of her eyes. She seemed to have no problem with the nudity other than the chill in the air and the storm gathering on the horizon. Kelski kept the bow going because she was busy focusing her Reimancy, pulling forming res and gently emanating it from the bloody blisters forming in her hands to infuse the bow and the wood below it with her will. She was slowly drawing the moisture out of the wood, turning it to air, focusing, concentrating, trying to talk to the stranger and gain enough heat in the wood from her twirling it.

She studied the hunter as she worked, further fracturing her concentration. He was young, cleaner than most humans she was used to seeing, and looked confident out in the woods. She wasn’t sure he would help her, but she was starting to doubt he was a threat. Humans were unpredictable and she didn’t trust them, but some had managed to become her friends.

“I’m Kelski.” She said suddenly, watching him while he watched her and decided what to do. “I was fishing and miscalculated… took a swim when I was trying to snag a fat salmon and got my feathers wet. Its not a good situation for something like me. I made it to the shore but I have no supplies with me and nothing but hands to get a fire started. Stupid… I’m so wet and cold but the worst part is its hard to think. I feel like if I was only warm, my brain would start working and there would be an easy solution to this. If my feathers weren’t drenched, I could fly home.” She said, shaking her head. In truth, the only thing she wore was a silver key on a small chain around her neck and assorted jewelry in her ears.

True to what she said, there was nothing else around her. After saying her piece, Kelski grew quiet and watched the man, curious to see what he would do.
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They laugh at me because I am different.
I laugh at them because they are all the same.
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Kelski
Freedom is earned. Fight for it.
 
Posts: 1427
Words: 1837945
Joined roleplay: July 3rd, 2014, 11:08 pm
Location: The Wildlands of Sylira & The Empyreal Demesne
Race: Kelvic
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