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Post by Es Kauvrian on Aug 30, 2015 0:04:02 GMT -5
{Location Change: From Jiv'Undus Mountain Range}
Dragos would undoubtedly feel a much sharper lurching sensation as Es transported him through space much more roughly than the previous instances; without time to prepare, just getting somewhere close to the intended destination could be considered a triumph, and when one considers the fact that Es had to jump multiple times in rapid succession in order to have any chance of shaking the planar mage’s tracking abilities, it was rightly a miracle when the two of them both landed in the deep snowpack outside of with all of their respective limbs still attached.
The landing was hardly graceful, however: due to the speed and momentum that Es had gathered before grabbing Dragos, he would have felt a very wrenching change of direction, a sharp, possibly-dislocating hold on his left arm, and then, finally, a skidding stop in the snow with Es’ dense body half-sprawled on top of him. As soon as the two snow-plowed to a stop, Es, would hop to her feet and lean back, extending a hand (her right) to help Dragos do the same.
Kauvrian, once Dragos was on his feet, would take a short second to appraise their location. She had jumped them between places almost blindly, and therefore her final destination followed only the thought parameters of remote and outside the city. The landscape they had ended up on was, due to the snow, topographically similar to the one they had come from initially, but with one small change: to Es’ left, approximately two to three miles in the distance, sat a small town nestled in the snow. The town looked to be a resort-style, and was situated in such a way that it backed up to a large mountain, and the streets were already fairly well-lit, considering that darkness was rapidly sweeping across the sky. Es recognized the location immediately as Tamryn, which was a sensical choice, considering their predicament: the town was just far enough from Vascxious Sigma that it wasn’t too remote to be useful, and Tamryn was also just large and populated enough that Es and Dragos might be able to lay low briefly until the Arc was sure they had not been followed.
Ignoring the town momentarily, Es focused instead on Dragos. She watched the man carefully to see if he was able to quickly right himself, and examined him carefully to try and assess his injuries, which were extensive. The Arc kept her features fairly neutral, ensuring that the anger she felt at how the battle had gone was kept off her features and out of her voice.
”Are you okay to walk? We need to get moving: they’ll be after us quickly, and we need to be hidden before they can follow our trail here.”
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Post by Dragos Syrkhan on Aug 30, 2015 12:37:50 GMT -5
Dragos felt the sudden interference preventing the first of the two successive explosions from detonating in the corporeal plane like a distant echo, even as his eyes watched it occur on the same plane as the Magi around them, disconnected from where it mattered. It was infuriating not because it hadn't reduced the woman to a gory splatter upon the snow, but because it had failed to separate her from Viers. Even as he rushed at the pair, propelled along by the Sphere surrounding him, he watched with a maddening helplessness as she reached to shove Viers and...entirely remove him from the situation. Watching what he could of the folds in reality, the back of his mind recognized it for what it was, but that was enough to change his course of action entirely. When he'd traversed but half the distance to the woman, the was a sudden stop as the Sphere made to completely halt his momentum. His body, mostly parallel with the ground beneath him, began to shift upright as he reconsidered his options. Above all else, he couldn't let the woman inside the Sphere; all of the energy which she'd used to blanket the area had, for the moment, apparently robbed from her, but there was still a healthy store inside it, disconnected from her only by the thin energetic membrane coating it.
With his limited reserves all the more dwindled by his efforts, he was quickly running out of options, and as he looked to the woman, obviously prepared for any advance he might make, his mind stalled on what to do. He knew that the second explosion had taken place, but the edge of his vision told him all he needed to know about that front; the detonation had failed to inflict any serious damage. All the rage and fury in his chest did nothing to provide him an answer for what was turning out to be a hopeless situation, one that he recognized needed evacuating. Could he, though? Would he have the time, and, more importantly, what would stop the silver-haired woman from simply following? As rapid-paced as his thoughts were, it was a mixture of his focus on them and the time he spent in hesitation that left him, for the most part, completely unprepared for what happened next. He was more aware of the sudden grip on his arm than of Es's startling presence beside him.
And then they were gone.
The chaos that followed did little to answer the sudden state of confusion he confronted, but after but an instant or two, he could at least recognize what was happening. They were changing location, he and Es. With all of the conscious thought he could muster, he released his control over the Sphere around them, thereby releasing the energy that had been stored within it. It was only after the fact that he realized that he'd done so at only one of their blindingly fast location changes and, before he could quite comprehend it, he was lying on the snow, facing skyward, with Es's form half-sprawled on top of him.
His most immediate reaction was the blink, taking a few moments to let his ability to process to catch up to him. They'd change locations several times, likely in effort to throw of the trail so that the silver-haired mage couldn't track them. Where they'd come to a stop was equivically the same, with the snow and ice, but he felt ripped out of one world and thrown into another. As the woman he'd previously regarded as an incarnation of the Mage stood, he looked to her with a mix of confusion and residual fury from their shared confrontation. It was only then that he noticed her extended hand and, as his back arched with a sensation that was more mechanical than intention as he rose, he reached out to brush it aside. Standing slower than he would have liked, the pain in the back of his mind slowly began to creep into the forefront of his thoughts without the immediate concern of conflict to quiet them. Stony, signed features shifted and turned as now clear, golden-hued eyes darted back and forth to assess his surroundings, trying—and failing—to hold back a slight grimace from his wounds.
“I'm fine.”
Spoken as little more than a raspy growl while he gazed at the distant town, it took him only a scant second to recognize it. Tamryn. The immediate recollection that accompanied it did little to better his mood and, without a word, he turned to slowly start trudging in its direction. As the pain went from a slow creep to a full-on dash to the center of his attention, he felt the welcome burn of Arcanum as it stirred into life to begin the process of healing his mostly superficial, though severe wounds. By his estimate, the majority should be taken care of by the time they reached town, but he didn't bother thinking about it too much. Reflexively, the hand in better condition of the two lifted to slowly unclasp the leather bindings of the harness at his torso, letting the tattered mess of leather and metal fall into the snow behind him as he moved.
Over the next few moments, the same would follow suit for the bracers on either arm, with some pause at the difficulty considering the pain of his affected limbs, but it was all reflexive. His expression revealed his true thoughts, twisted in anger as he replayed the exchange again and again in his mind, looking for the mistakes he'd made that let to their less than favorable outcome. He was immediately aware that, unfortunately, he found plenty.
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Post by Es Kauvrian on Aug 30, 2015 14:09:13 GMT -5
Es didn’t seem to pay the fact that Dragos didn’t accept her help any mind. The Arc knew that it would take time to understand the man’s motivations and personality: the impressions that Es had been given from Achréiøs could only go so far toward allowing her to understand Dragos, since that’s all they were – impressions. Part of the reason Achréiøs had chosen to bring her back, Es was sure, was so that she could find a way to interface with Dragos in ways the Mage himself could not, to break through his barriers . . . or judge him, finally, unreachable. While that goal had never been explicitly stated, the Arc took it very seriously, and therefore she chose to watch instead of judging for the time being. The piercing nature of Es’ emerald gaze might make Dragos uncomfortable when it was focused solely on him, but if he looked to it instead of averting his eyes, he’d see a degree of kindness there that was missing from the Mage. Whether that would make Es less approachable rather than more to the Dragon remained to be seen.
Dragos moved off wordlessly, and Es easily fell in step with his trudging steps. For the first moments, Es took time to appraise herself: apart from the deep, caustic burn on her left shoulder, the female Arc could count herself relatively unharmed, at least in a physical sense, and unlike Dragos, her clothing had not suffered any ill-effects, meaning that, while she did have to prioritize gather enough covering to make her less conspicuous, Es knew that, upon reaching Tamryn, getting Dragos some new clothing would be the first order of business if they were to effectively lay low. As Dragos tapped his Arcanum to begin healing, Es did the same, though it would take less than two minutes for the grand total of her wounds to fully heal, while the Dragon’s would undoubtedly take somewhat longer. As they walked, their bodies trying to repair the damage that had been done by the Vascxious Counselors and the target they had been sent to retrieve, Es began speaking to Dragos in low tones, her only just rising above the volume of their crunching steps through the snow, so as not to draw extra attention to their position.
”The Risis mage will be able to track us eventually, but it should take her some time before she can follow our trail to its end. By then we should be able to conceal ourselves, so we can wait for an opportunity to either strike back or return to the Cache.”
Es kept her eyes focused more on Dragos than the road ahead as she spoke, watching his reactions to what she was saying carefully.
”We have to assume they transported Viers into the city, possibly even into the Tower itself, which means he’s unreachable, at least for the time being. That means that our new objective is to eliminate one or both of the Counselors, assuming they come after us, so that this mission isn’t a total failure.”
Es thought carefully at that prospect: with any luck, Soren would have to recover herself before she was in any shape to come after them, which means that the two might actually split up in order to capitalize on Es and Dragos’ weakened state. That meant the Risis mage might well come alone, giving them a much greater chance of surprising and incapacitating the planar fighter before she could escape or call for reinforcements. Still, even that was a long-shot – if they both came together, Es and Dragos’ odds wouldn’t improve much unless they were able to inject another factor into the equation.
”Viers really screwed things up for us, as he is oft to do.” Es shook her head in disgust: the Arc managed to be a pain in her behind even thousands upon thousands of years after their initial meeting, and that fact alone made things seem like they would be a great deal simpler for everyone if Es just eliminated Viers altogether instead of letting him run them around like children after a play ball. ”What happened before I arrived: did he attack?” a
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Post by Dragos Syrkhan on Aug 30, 2015 22:04:13 GMT -5
Dragos would have missed whatever imprinted kindness the woman's gaze may have held, because he scarcely looked at her, let alone directly into her eyes. She, with how carefully she was watching him, could have taken it as avoiding the, for lack of a better term, intimacy, if she chose to; the Son cared not. In all actuality, if he became aware of it, which he was likely to over time given just how intent she was on him, it would only prove to be another frustration to add on to those he currently faced. Pair that with her insistence on a seemingly constant verbal barrage, and the muscles of his shoulders would visibly tense more and more as time progressed, hidden only by his otherwise already tense movements.
Still, her insistence on talking was not wholly unwelcome, if only for the fact that it relayed the information of their current situation a bit more specifically. The multi-location jump that she'd executed wouldn't hide their trail forever, but would apparently buy them time. Discomforted by this, Dragos let his thoughts lift somewhat out of the stew of his own self-analysis and roiling anger to pay their surroundings a bit more mind, even going so far as to reflexively glance in either direction if only to scan for some part of their environment that might conceal them for a short time, or give them a topographical advantage. With nothing but snow to either side, the town ahead remained their best option, and Dragos kept trudging with some ire regarding that.
Silent as he progressed, and alert as he could be to their surroundings on the corporeal and metaphysical level without any, more excessive means, he tried to consider how the pair of them might handle even one of their pursuers, given that both were, at the very least, somewhat energetically deprived. In the worst case scenario, one, or both, of the women would be on them in seconds, scarcely thrown off the trail that Es had laid out. Even so, a full-on sprint into Tamryn would only draw unwanted attention, and there was still the matter of blending in when--if--they reached the town. That Es was now suggesting, in light of having lost the option of securing Viers for the foreseeable future, that they instead prioritize the death of one or both of the women was as maddening as it was welcome. Yes, it would have been very, very satisfying to personally crush the life out of either if given the opportunity, but the probability of doing so seemed very bleak. That the woman at his side suggested it tacked on another point of frustration to her apparent need to fill the air with chatter.
Maintaining his silence, his eyes locked on the town at their forefront, he tried to focus on the matter at hand of how to deal with their pursuers, but found doing so increasingly difficult. How well could they count on the populace of Tamryn to throw off their energetic trail, should the silver-haired hound come looking for them? If they…what? The Son visibly glanced, albeit briefly in Es's direction as she, seemingly for the its own sake, started to complain about Viers, then inquired further about what had happened before her arrival. He was inclined to stop and glare at her, but given their less that favorable situation, he kept moving. Instead, he let his gaze linger a moment longer before looking forward, his partially charred boots continuing their cadence of rhythmic crunching.
"No." He let the word linger a scant second before continuing. "I did."
He tried to go back to that moment now, to reassess what was going through his mind. The anger and frustration, with Fureya and Achreios as two focal points, and the inclination that functionally subduing Viers would have been the most effective route to securing him. Badly burned, though healing digits curled into tight fists, cracking some of the freshly-healed flesh. His growling voice was as much a further explanation as a warning that he was growing very, very tired of talking already.
"It escalated."
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Post by Es Kauvrian on Aug 31, 2015 10:30:40 GMT -5
Es didn’t immediately address Dragos answer to her question primarily because it took her a few seconds to decide on the best way to handle the information. Had Dragos been one of her soldiers, Kauvrian would have immediately stopped and given him a dressing down before explaining how to do better, but the Arc knew that Dragos would only respond negatively to Es’ anger – after all, the majority of the reinforcement he go from Achréiøs had been, up until this point, delivered in the form of brutal chastisement. Es didn’t want to go that route, but she couldn’t deny that the information was frustrating, since Dragos choice directly influenced the outcome of current events. Dragos likely knew that too; therefore, Es didn’t intend to pile on blame, but instead examine motives.
Whether the woman could catch Dragos’ eye or not was irrelevant, but if the man did look over, he would naturally notice that Kauvrian’s emerald eyes were fairly singly focused on his face, especially considering they were walking in a straight line and it would be at least ten minutes before they reach the town that was their current destination.
”Viers may not seem like a formidable opponent at first glance, but he is as old as I am, and he didn’t survive as long as he has by being easy to dispatch.” Dragos’ flaw, as Es saw it, was either in underestimating his opponent, or overestimating his own abilities. Both would lead to the same conclusion in this case, but the difference between the reasons was important. ”We didn’t take the time to give you relevant information regarding Viers strength and abilities before we split up, primarily because I hadn’t counted on us having to split up. Did you know what he was capable of, or were you just confident you could subdue him easily?”
Dragos may not have wanted to talk, but Es was determined to dissect the situation: part of the Dragon’s problem was that he seemed to take what Achréiøs and Es would consider the wrong message from certain situations, and therefore Es wanted to be clear as to what he could learn from their given circumstance.
”Viers escalated the situation because he had less to lose: I suspect he was more afraid of being caught by us than by the Tower, so making a ruckus and getting notice played right into his plans, given the situation.” The unspoken inference that was meant to be drawn from the Arc’s words was ‘we were the ones who had to lay low,’ but Es would wait for Dragos to respond before she continued. No matter how he might want to keep silent,. The man would quickly find that Es was not one to leave a situation unexplored: Dragos would be better off if he cooperated rather than continuing to attempt to be stubborn.
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Post by Dragos Syrkhan on Aug 31, 2015 11:06:40 GMT -5
He knew.
In the short amount of reprieve they'd had already, it was one of the first conclusions he had come to realize. If he had handled the situation differently from the start, it might not have escalated; it might not have drawn the notice of the city's apparent protectors to their location. Right now, this very moment, they could be back in the damnable Cache, with Viers facing Achreios, and Dragos, most importantly, on his own, without a need for all this chatter. His gaze on the distant town as he marched with longer strides than his shorter compatriot, he repeatedly went back to that moment. The anger of being attacked by Fureya, and the absolute fury of being forced into pleading for his gods-damned life by the Mage. Whether or not it was that very thought, or the woman at his side's question regarding his abilities versus his former opponent's, the skin of his already clenched fists groaned like leather under the weight of the pressure he put there.
“What do you think?”
He had to force himself again not to stop and glare at her, but his growling words were dripping with venom. No, he'd had no idea what his opponent was capable of, leaving, by her approximation, only the option that he was so confident in his abilities that subduing Viers shouldn't have been a problem. In truth, it would have been manageable. He felt it, and was confident, that he had been the superior power in that confrontation. If only given enough time, he could have put down that greasy little bastard, and brought him back to the Cache without the options of kicking or screaming. But that wasn't how it had gone, was it? If it weren't for Es's timely arrival, Dragos would have lost track of the man entirely, thanks to what seemed a last ditch effort on his part to hold him off. The very thought made the anger in his core rise above the humility of getting properly trounced by the silver-haired mage, and almost roll off of him in waves. Then, there was the fact that Es, believe it or not, was still talking.
He felt the shift as it happened; the focus of his anger moving from his own actions to her, and he didn't try to stop it. Finally, he stopped in his tracks, turning to his side so that golden-hued eyes could glare directly into emerald, and they wouldn't give a damn about whatever they found there.
“What, then? Would talking have been the better option, because that little ploy of yours seemed to go so well in the case of our pursuers.”
He'd glare at her for a second longer before resuming his forward pace, regardless of whatever quip she might have returned to him. That was right; she'd pretended to be the Mage, and at a point where even Dragos was unsure of her true identity as a separate entity. It had failed, though; provoking the dark-haired woman to attack her viciously, as she well should have if the lie were instead the truth. From it, Dragos gleaned at least one thing: this woman was not the Mage, and by whatever means he'd dredged her up, he'd made a mistake.
As he continued forward, his face half-twisted in holding back a constant snarl, he tried to push out of mind that it was only thanks to her that they'd been able to escape. That, despite whatever had happened in the blinding exchange between she and her opponent, she'd been able to hold her attention in full, leaving Dragos to deal, rather ineffectually with the silver-haired mage unhindered. He wanted to beat something into a bloody pulp, but knew there wasn't time. As his wounds continued to heal, if the silence was left unbroken, he, for once, would be the one to change it, his tone lower, calmer.
“Just be quiet.”
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Post by Es Kauvrian on Aug 31, 2015 12:10:18 GMT -5
Es smiled, though the expression was a bit more grim than mirthful. Dragos, intent on ignoring her, would likely not notice, but the Arc seemed to smile just a bit more with each small increase in Dragos anger: was she attempting to infuriate him? The Dragon’s simplistic grasp of the situation, and his companion, probably wouldn’t lead him to do much analysis of Es’ motives, but if he paid close enough attention, he would have the opportunity to learn quite a bit about the female Arc commander . . . or he could continue to be stubborn.
”I think you made the decision to strike first and ask questions later. I think you are used to using your muscles to solve problems rather than your brain.”
The calm, non-accusatory tone Es delivered her words in in seemed at odds with her sentence: to Dragos, her lack of direct derision might only be further infuriating. When he stopped, Es did as well, and as he attempted to stare her down, he would be met with a very intense, hard set of emerald eyes staring back at him: Es kept a small smirk on her face as he accused her of being ineffective, and she would even wait for Dragos to continue moving again before she responded, again in the same even tone.
”My decision was the right one: would attacking a few seconds earlier have been any better? At best, speaking first could have bought us time to further size up our opponents and coordinate: at worst, we ended up fighting anyway, which is what happened. Actually, the fact that Søren attacked the way she did was the reason I was nearly able to kill her outright.”
Es wasn’t sure of how much of the fight Dragos was able to witness, and as they continued walking, the Arc didn’t waste the opportunity to elaborate.
”She responded out of fear, and threw everything at me that she could: she was so afraid I was Achréiøs that she was prepared to kill herself just to eliminate me. Without the Risis’ mage’s interference, dear Søren would not have walked away. Now, do you really think we lost against them because we missed a few precious seconds of fighting because I chose to talk instead?”
This time Es was the one who chose to stop and she would stop Dragos in his tracks in turn by taking a firm grasp of his shoulder. Es would wait for him to turn and catch her eye before she finished her thought.
”Dragos, we lost because you fought two losing battles, against two superior opponents, back-to-back. And, most importantly, Søren and her companion fought together, which is why they are chasing us down right now instead of lying dead in the snow. Your overconfidence lost us Viers and the battle, and your inability to cooperate nearly lost us both our lives: and, in order to keep history from repeating itself, we’ll continue to talk about it until I’m satisfied you’ve learned something from what just happened.”
As soon as she started taking Es would let go of Dragos shoulder, so as not to make him feel confined, and she would deliver her words in the same even, maddeningly-unshakable tone as her earlier statements. Once she had said her piece and he had time to respond, she would pick up the pace again.
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Post by Dragos Syrkhan on Aug 31, 2015 12:58:31 GMT -5
Power solved problems. He had been the more powerful of the two in his confrontation with Viers and...it equated to nothing. Even if the female duo from Vascxious Sigma hadn't arrived, and Es had never shown, Viers would be lost, and the mission would have ended in failure. Why? Had his tactical advantage in the exchange been so non-existent? Had he not tried to outmaneuver his opponent rather than overpowering outright? The details were becoming hazy with his building level of fury, paired with that the woman's calm approach in itself was scratching at his last, single nerve on what was turning out to be a very, very bad day. He said nothing and, as he resumed walking, had little choice but to listen to the woman's words as they moved on, lest his powers of fury allow him to block out sound altogether.
Given the silver-haired mage's clouding haze, he was unsure of the specifics of the encounter between Es and this Soren, save for that, when the haze fell, both were facing off at a distance. Like a boast, however, Es felt inclined to share its details with him, further using the explanation to line out her reasoning. To Dragos, it looked like Soren throwing everything she had at Es had been enough to hold her off, but...not without being worse for wear. Even Dragos could tell that much in the glimpse he'd given before sending the second of the successive explosions her way and, not to mention, her sudden absorption of the hazy energy around them all did speak to drastic means. He couldn't tell if, with what he'd sign pairing up well with Es's words, if that fact only pissed him off more, or made him feel defeated. That feeling, however, would be gone the very second she decided to touch him.
He may have seemed content to sulk in in his growing fury, but the very instant her hand made contact with his shoulder, his otherwise alert state kicked into action. With a speed and potency that the woman might not have been prepared for, his arm lifted and his torso twisted to knock her hand aside harshly. Reflexively, his free hand on his opposite side, already balled into a tight fist, lifted in preparation to strike out at her. It was in that moment, though, that he froze. Whether or not it was because she was talking was left to mystery, but he glared into her emerald eyes with a distinct level of fury, his teeth grit and showing despite it.
His hesitation had less to do with immediately listening to what she had to say than it did with his realization that he wouldn't be able to strike her down for her continued antagonizing. He was at a record low of energy reserves, and even with what he had, it would take a moment's focus to construct another Sphere of Influence. Given the woman's rapid pace at which she'd grabbed him, he knew that was a moment he wouldn't have. Pair that with the fact that fighting now would only delay them from whatever questionable amount of concealment Tamryn would provide for them from their pursuers, and he held his stance. It was only then that he listened, but he wasn't exactly rewarded for doing so by alleviating any of the immense fury that he had. It was his fault that they lost Viers, and his fault that the confrontation with the two women went so poorly, and they both knew it. Infuriatingly, as soon as she'd stopped talking, she started toward the town again, leaving Dragos to stare at her back in a raging stupor.
“What the hell am I supposed to do about that now?!”
The words were above a growl, with no care for whom might overhear them. Spat out before he could think them over, the next instant of thought brought him what he through she'd answer. Learn. Learn what? That he was an apparent brute that lacked both the brains and the power to solve any of his own problems? In the face of being unable to pummel her to death, his immediate desire was to leave, but then what? With his lacking energy reserves, he wouldn't get far, and even then, he'd be on his own if their pursuers tracked him down. After several, silent moments, he started walking again, now in the trail of Es, with the distinct inability to look at her. She pissed him off too much.
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Post by Es Kauvrian on Aug 31, 2015 13:23:52 GMT -5
Es watched unblinkingly as Dragos rounded on her – she let him push her hand away, and the Arc looked at Dragos almost expectantly, as if she had completely anticipated his reaction to her touch and was prepared to let him strike, though what might happen after would be a mystery until it took place. Dragos had to put his anger somewhere, and Es was the only target available – seemingly, she was assisting in the process by acting as a reservoir for his fury. Despite her choice of words, Es wasn’t attempting to make Dragos turn his anger on himself or fall victim to more self-derision. Dragos beating himself up wouldn’t solve anything: he needed a way to deal with his anger before he could possibly begin to progress.
The fact that Dragos chose not to strike at Es demonstrated that he was capable of seeing the futility in the action, and Es could follow his soundless train of thought easily, having experienced the very same emotions so many times herself. Dragos and Es were not all that dissimilar: the Arc simply had the advantage of maturity and a very, very long span of time on her side. She knew her calm demeanor, her seeming inability to respond to his anger with her own in kind, was only exacerbating his rage, and that was the point of her chosen demeanor. The fact that she didn’t mock or deride him likely only made things worse – at least then he would have been able to write her off or ignore what she was saying. Her demeanor, her delivery, even the small, knowing smile on her face – they were all designed to force him to consider her words honestly, and not give him an out from dealing with their meaning. Es would force Dragos to learn, despite all his resistance: it was the only way to ensure he would be able to survive.
Es stopped walking again and turned to Dragos as he cried out, and fixed him with the same maddeningly non-accusatory, understanding gaze she had been using the whole time, whether he would choose to meet her eyes or not.
”Like I said – learn from it.” Pivoting fully, Es would take a step back towards Dragos so that she could square her broad shoulders up with his and look at him directly. ”Dragos, you’re not a fool: you’re a powerful, highly capable individual with extremely high potential – potential that is being wasted by your anger. You can make the right decision, you just don’t because you’re taking the easy route and relying on your emotions rather than your intelligence.”
Unless Dragos immediately struck back, Es would turn and begin walking again, giving the man a minute to consider what she had said. After a moment, however, she would turn back and speak again. ”I was just like you before I met Achréiøs: hurt and angry. I relied on my anger because it was safer, but it nearly got me killed too many times to count.”
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Post by Dragos Syrkhan on Aug 31, 2015 14:01:56 GMT -5
Es was right in that her apparently calm acceptance of his anger, even when both were fully aware that it was misplaced, was nothing short of absolutely infuriating. When he'd rounded on her, he'd half expected for her to beat him to the punch, literally. As many times as he'd been forced to submit, surprised, or outright defeated on this one, very bad day, he damn near expected it. Instead, there she was, looking at him with a confident calm, trying to show him some wordless degree of understanding, and he could barely stand it. All of his rage and fury had no place to go, given that, for the moment, he couldn't stop to meditate on his failures given their need to retreat to Tamryn, and he couldn't exert it on her by means of his Magi or his fists. Amid the roiling sea of anger, he felt a sense of exhaustion trying to break its way through the waves, but he fought against it. Silent, he marched on, stopping with a slight delay when she rounded on him again, spouting just what he expected her to. Learn.
His muscles tensed, and he prepared to shout at her again, but she kept talking, and did so along a path that he was all too accustomed to hearing. Only then did he glare at her—and glare he did—for what she had to say to him. He was sick of hearing about this mystical potential that he'd never catch up with; sick of hearing about how powerful he was when he seemed so incable of escaping the chains of his life, or leveling any obstacles in his way. It did little to put him on ease, and the fact that she reasoned his emotions as the focal point as his flaws almost made him take a step back. Was she serious? His anger was the only reason he was still here; it was what drove him beyond all of his limits, even when every muscle told him nothing more could be done. He felt the rise of his frustration like a giant wave, but again, the sense of exhaustion called from the back of his mind.
Starting to march onward once more, he looked up to her reflexively when she turned to speak again, and she'd be met by the furrow of his brow. What she knew about him was up for debate, but given that she came from the Mage...it wasn't completely out of reason to guess that she was somewhat informed of, at the very least, the Mage's interactions with him. That she'd compare herself to him, however, took on a parental tone that he had a significant dislike of. Why shouldn't he be angry, what with the chains he wore, and the life he'd led? He glared at her, but found himself increasingly unable to muster the rage necessary to piece together a sound argument, or an argument at all. All he could dredge up was a less and less wordless frustration, given him nothing to answer her with; nothing to spit in her face to prove her wrong.
Without another word, he started walking yet again and, if she decided to stay put and watch him in some kind of calm, caring stupor, he'd brush past her.
“Didn't you say we needed to get to cover, and not waste time?”
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Post by Es Kauvrian on Aug 31, 2015 21:05:17 GMT -5
Es never had any intention of staying stopped, and therefore as Dragos started going again, so did she, ensuring that her steps would fall in beside the Dragon’s as they progressed onward toward the town. Now, having covered nearly half the distance between their original landing point and the true border of Tamryn, Dragos might think himself free from the Arc speaking, but if he thought she would be dropping the point, he had another thing coming.
”It’s only a waste of time if you don’t listen to what I’m saying.”
Kauvrian still spoke with a tone of nonjudgement, but her words also took on a cutting edge of serious finality as she explained her position, only glancing periodically in Dragos’ direction as she spoke.
”Make no mistake: if you chose to deal with our situation like you have been, we are both going to die. The only chance we have of dealing with Søren and her planar mage friend is if we separate and overwhelm them, and that can only happen if you and I work together as seamlessly as is possible. We have a limited window of time to set ourselves up, and we have to turn the circumstances to our favor rapidly if we want to have a chance of succeeding.”
Es did stop, for a moment, and made sure to catch Dragos gaze in order to impart the seriousness of her statements.
”I honestly don’t care what your opinion of me is: I can handle your anger or derision for as long as you feel the need to point it my way, but right now, I need your commitment to work with me. I’ll be happy to settle any differences you have with me in the ring afterward, but for the time being we are each other’s only hope of survival against terrible odds, and therefore we need to be on the same page. Are you ready to do that?”
Es both made a convincing argument and left little room for disagreement, but she wouldn’t begin moving on until Dragos responded. Assuming he responded in the affirmative, she would continue walking and begin to collect her thoughts so that she could start coordinating their plan.
If Dragos chose not to agree, well, then, Es would have to make other plans.
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Post by Dragos Syrkhan on Aug 31, 2015 21:55:57 GMT -5
The woman's insistence on talking while saying nothing at all was grating to what bit of dwindling rage he could muster. How could he not listen, with her verbally bashing him over the head time and time again with word after word, only part of which he deemed useful in the slightest. While the information regarding the state of this Soren and her near-death experience was useful, considering that her state may be somewhat questionable if and when she resumed pursuit, a great deal else had been little more than frustrating. Or had it? Honestly, Dragos was too fatigued to bother with fostering interpersonal relationships, and too otherwise occupied with his own survival to formulate much of an opinion on the woman beyond her need to keep talking. In that line of thought, then, the woman had a point. They needed to survive, and if their potential second encounter with the female duo went anything like their last, they most certainly wouldn't. What was questionable now, though, was how much difference a strategic, team offensive would make while both he and she, he presumed, were so very fatigued from the previous exchange.
He didn't bother looking at her until she made it a point to catch his eye, and when he finally did, perhaps it would comfort her to see only the faintest twinge of anger on a face that was otherwise neutral. She made sense to a degree, and he was tired of trying to push against her overdeveloped need to communicate. Of course, that didn't mean he'd stop walking; they had places to be.
“Then stop wasting my time with babble about how similar we are, and tell me how we're going to kill them.”
Spoken in his usual growling tone, he didn't bother to look back. If getting to Tamryn was part of the goal, he wanted to get there; in the best case scenario, they could hide for a time, and perhaps long enough for it to make a real difference in their energy reserves. As for any personal distaste of the woman, he would save it for now, though his first inclination of settling it 'in the ring' was more irritating than not. Perhaps he really was tired; the thought of another fight, and of another failure, really was at the very bottom of his To-Do list. At least, just for today.
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Post by Es Kauvrian on Sept 1, 2015 15:32:59 GMT -5
Es resisted the urge to grit her teeth at the man’s response. Somehow, Dragos thought holding onto his bone-headed insolence somehow made him a stronger person, rather than the opposite, and the Arc was greatly looking forward to breaking him of that misguided notion. Kauvrian recognized that, in a way, Dragos was just mimicking what the Mage had shown him, but again, he took the wrong lessons from his past experiences, choosing to go with his first impressions rather than searching for deeper meaning in his overseer’s actions. In time, Dragos would either learn to become a willing student, or he would die: there were, unfortunately for him, no other options.
”Prove to me I can trust you, Dragos.”
Es let the words stand alone, but her sentence had an air of finality to it: there was only so much babying of Dragos childishness that the Arc would be willing to do before she chose to write him off as a loss. If Dragos continued to stubbornly resist gaining the wisdom to be what the Mage needed him to be, and what he needed himself to be, Es wouldn’t hesitate to put him in the ground.
Whether Dragos understood the inference of the Arc’s words was irrelevant to Es: she kept pace with the Dragon and moved on to battle planning, beginning to quickly lay out the situation they were walking in to.
”We need to get to, and stay in, heavily populated areas: doing so will severely hamper our Council friends ability to fight, since they, as recognizable officials, would jeopardize their own positions and the stability of the false government they have created by throwing magic around in a crowded area. That means, while we are getting in position, we need to essentially hide in plain sight.” A difficult proposition. Considering Es’ distinctness and Dragos current clothing predicaments, but not one that was insurmountable. ”Søren will be less hampered, because she has the ability to shapeshift, but if we are lucky she won’t want to waste her energy hiding herself after having to do major healing from our earlier fight, so they are unlikely to engage us while we stay in the crowds: they’ll watch, and if they can manage it, try to use planar magic to move us to an isolated location so they can converge on us. We need to ensure that isn’t possible.”
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Post by Dragos Syrkhan on Sept 9, 2015 22:23:11 GMT -5
Trust. The concept was as foreign as lands across the distant seas, and yet it was what Es was asking of him now. Golden-hued eyes looked upon her in silence, in a mixture of surprise and a near-complete lack of the ability to process her demand. When had trust ever been a foundation of his experience in the Mage's company? He couldn't trust the Mage not to kill him; not to put him down and remind him of his place. He and Fureya, on the other hand, operated on a level of...what? Respect? Obviously far from the case, and more from his own perspective than he wanted to admit, he considered what their bond was. Mutual suffering? Trust didn't come from that, and he himself had looked upon the woman as a potential enemy what seemed like only moments ago. The various relationships that stood in the background of his mind only ate away at the possibility of a trust that he could conceptualize, and yet, in what seemed so naive a suggestion that it was almost laughable, Es needed to trust him.
The Son didn't laugh. From a mixture of fatigue and the weight of being knocked to the ground more times than he'd counted in a single day, he couldn't even bring himself to be furious with her for her persistence in what seemed so frivolous a possibility. All he could do was stare at her as they walked, his features only slightly contorted in residual anger as he was forced to reckon with her demand, and the weight of the tone that carried it. When he could stare no longer, he looked forward, trudging forward through the snow, his wounds healing despite his otherwise wartorn appearance. Trust; how could he even go about proving such a thing to her? Admitting to himself that he was more than relieved when she changed topics, the thought sank deep into the background of his mind to acknowledged what he'd regarded as the meat of the issue from the beginning.
Listening carefully, he glanced in her direction at the distinct knowledge of this Soren's abilities. The dark-haired adversary whom, upon Dragos's gaining sight of her again, looked more dead than alive, somehow absorbing the haze around them to power whatever manipulations that were possibly sustaining her. His eyes narrowed slightly at the knowledge, but he stowed the curiosity for another time; how Es knew so much about the woman, or by reverse, what the Mage knew about her, wasn't entirely more pressing than there survival, but it did demand further investigation. Finally, after she finished, Dragos let the silence hang in the air for only a moment, eager to avoid the more difficult, previous subject.
“Surely we can't just bide our time. They won't just go away, and with the resources of an entire city, I doubt they'll move in with full knowledge of their hindrances.”
It was true that Dragos and Es could, what with he, himself, already regarded as an international terrorist, fight in the city without need of restraint, but to expect their opponents to charge into a zone where they were at a disadvantage seemed unlikely, even if they were riding the high of their previous momentum.
“We need an exit plan.”
It was only after he'd said it that he realized how definitive it sounded. Obviously Es had more to her plan; if she didn't, she'd be a fool. Despite whatever tactical errors she may or may not have made in the previous engagement, something in his gut told him that wasn't the case, so he waited for her to continue, both taking stock of the progress of his healing wounds, and considering alternatives that they could turn to in order to make it out of this alive.
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Post by Es Kauvrian on Sept 10, 2015 13:46:34 GMT -5
If Es caught on to any of Dragos confusion regarding the concept of being trusted, she gave no sign, instead focusing solely on laying out their forthcoming plans. Of course, the Arc was open to input, but when Dragos assumed that there was more to the woman’s plan than she had thus far outlined, he was right, and as the neared the border of the actual town of Tamryn, Kauvrian continued to outline her ideas as carefully and succinctly as possible.
”Exiting will only prolong the chase: with them hot on our trail, any location shifts we make will be followed, meaning we can never return to the Cache so long as they are trailing us unless we are okay with compromising it. It’s better to set up here.”
Dragos was right both in that their pursuers wouldn’t just go away, and that they wouldn’t likely move in haphazardly. At a base level, as far as Es was concerned, that meant that she and Dragos needed to catch side of their pursuers before the alternative took place; yet, the likelihood of being able to get a drop on their pursuers was slim, if not nonexistent, which meant that the next-most-viable option was to intentionally draw the two female mages to a particular point and lay a trap for them.
”They are going to have to find us: but where and when they find us need to be carefully planned. We need to implement a strategy to separate them once they show up looking for us, assuming they don’t separate on their own. And, since the planar mage is the one who will be able to not only consolidate them easily, but move us to a more vulnerable area, we must be able to block her from using her abilities for a period long enough for me to separate Søren. That way, we can converge on her friend, who is the more dangerous of the two.”
The plan sounded good in theory, but as Es and Dragos made their way into the first crowds lining the outer rings of Tamryn Proper, instrumenting it began to seem like a much more difficult problem to surmount. Scanning the street in front of them, Es passed her emerald eyes over the block ahead, taking note of the various stores, restaurants, and inns lining either side of the cobblestone streets. Gesturing broadly to the shops on either side as the two attempted, vainly, to slide into a moving crowd of white-clad Vascxious Sigma vacationers that was apparently headed toward a nearby inn, Es caught Dragos eye and smiled grimly.
”First, we have to find a way to blend in. Any suggestions?”
{ Location Change: to Tamryn Proper }
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