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year 5, quarter 3
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Post by Zenos Galvus on Nov 14, 2023 2:12:51 GMT -6
Zenos viator Galvus
Garlean | Age 26 | 226x130 | M | Wanderer
His scythe sliced through the air, cutting it with a sound that could only be music for Zenos' ears. The man dodged, and the garlean grinned, going back to his usual stance. He was starting to have fun. He was starting to believe that the dragoon would truly give him what he desired. The words the blonde told him soon after, as if stating a fact more than asking a question, made his grin even wider in response. He did not truly need to reply, did he? His expression would probably be more than enough, and he was well aware. He knew he could not truly contain his feelings once the heat of battle set in. He never even tried to hide anything in battle, it was the one and only moment in which he was completely true to himself and honest with both his actions and words.
Following the dragoon with his gaze, he attempted a couple times to hit him mid-air with the unyielding blade technique, projecting his slashes towards the man, but he never hit him. After a few tries, he stopped even trying. Soon enough, the dragoon finally came down towards him. Zenos jumped to the side. He had fought very few times with dragoons, and never of his ability - and it showed as, in the very moment he landed on his feet, the shockwave from the knight's leap sent him literally flying.
Pleasantly surprised, he could not help but let it happen and simply laugh right after he hit his back against a few trees - his weight combined with the strength of the shockwave did not allow him to stop at the first obstacle on his path. So he grinned even wider at first, then started laughing. It was not to mock or provoke the dragoon, unlike the attitude he had put up before. His eyes sparkled with a hint of madness as he finally allowed himself to tear down a few more of his own mental barriers. Then he finally acknowledged the man's spear and, with the shadow of that laugh still on his face, he slowly said: "Just so." before attempting to deflect the blow with his scythe.
Post by Zenos Galvus on Nov 13, 2023 5:02:13 GMT -6
Zenos viator Galvus
Garlean | 26 | 226x130 | M
This is the beast...
That person was untouched by his glare, which could mean two things: either she was used to threats, or he was in too bad a condition to threaten. Probably both, he thought.
As she heard his words, the young woman sighed. At a more attentive glance, he realized she was an Au Ra. Judging by the colour of her horns, specifically a Raen. He had learned of them in his studies, and even seen a few in his life. As far as he knew, they were culturally far from their dark-horned counterparts, the Xaela - and he did actually have a few of them in his Legion, some time ago.
While he was thinking and observing, she replied to him. She was not a healer, but she would try. When she told him he would be in pain as they aided him, his lips curved into a very light smirk. He found it truly amusing, how this person had no idea who he was. Yet again, he was not sure whether the fact that he was almost impervious to pain was common knowledge outside of Garlemald or not. Had he been in a better shape, and had he been less cold emotionally, he would have probably laughed in her face... although he truly was in close to unbearable pain at the moment.
He groaned as they moved him, but tried his best not to make any other sound. He had never been one to freely express how he felt, and this situation was no different - except for his wounds. He had never been wounded so gravely before. Not even at the Royal Menagerie. Not even by the hand of an Ancient. Yet again, he was not so far from being one... before he awakened in this place, at least. He could feel something was different within him, but he definitely could not put himself to the test at the moment. He knew full well he could not push his limits any further.
He could not help but chuckle in seeing her reaction to his wounds. "My friend... was not.. much better." he said, not without a bit of effort. The shadow of a proud smirk was still painted on his lips. If he survived, it could only mean that his friend probably did, too. Zenos wanted to go look for him... the only problem being he could not remember their face. Not at all. So he would have to work on that, first.
He stiffened as the woman carefully treated his wounds. Not much because of the pain, but because he absolutely hated being touched. Especially when he was... weak. But he did not even try to witdraw from her. He needed her, whether he liked it or not. So he let her do her thing, and listened to her words.
He was about to tell her that he could handle that much pain when she said it would hurt and apologized, but he chose to keep quiet. He had scars over scars to tell this to her - and on top of this, he did not know her, she might just leave him there, bleeding to his death, if that sentence came out of his mouth. So he just stared for a while, as she told him her name - which he would surely forget in a few minutes - and then that she would ask for help from Provo, which probably meant that this place, or organization, or whatever... could bring him to proper healers.
He waited some more, observing her in silence. He would probably need to learn how to patch himself up from that moment on. Weak as he was, he could not afford to leave his wounds to heal on their own, nor could he go back to Garlemald. And who else, besides his servants and people who did not know him, would treat his wounds?
"Zenos." he said, after a while. "My name.. is Zenos."
Post by Zenos Galvus on Oct 14, 2023 15:08:36 GMT -6
Zenos viator Galvus
Garlean | 26 | 226x130 | M | Wanderer
This is the beast...
Finally. Finally a good response. Probably for what some may call a 'wrong reason', but what did he care?
"Boast? I am only stating facts." said the Garlean, completely untouched by whatever thought or inherent virtue could have brought the dragoon to be angered so. The light in his eyes changed into something different, far more akin to the Garlean's, and for a very brief moment it appeared to the giant that the tint itself had changed -but only for a moment. Zenos' thought of the dragoon being prepared to fight properly was soon proven true when he parried the scythe. Seeing that his kick also hit him far more slightly -and in a different position- than intended, he could not help but grin. That was a good start, without a doubt.
The former heir of Garlemald held still and watched as the other man spun on himself and readied an attack. He moved away just enough to be scraped by the halberd, but not hit in a way that would hinder his movement too much, without even taking the effort to try and fully dodge it. It would not be fun if he was not hurt at least a little in the process, would it? Still, he could say the warm-up was going well. "Not so easily." he said a moment later, then he swiftly used the power of his Avatar to teleport forward - which meant right behind the knight, only a few steps away. "Dodge." He ordered, then he swiftly turned on himself and slashed at him with the scythe once again, horizontally, around the height of the man's shoulders.
"Let us see how much you can take." he muttered right after, whether he had hit or not. The knight had just passed step one, so the attack he had just made with the aid of the teleport was step two. If the blonde passed this step too, then Zenos would go on with steps three, four, five, and so on and so forth until either of them would be unable to continue - but alive, as the deal commanded.
Post by Zenos Galvus on Sept 29, 2023 8:58:15 GMT -6
Zenos viator Galvus
Garlean | 26 | 226x130 | M
This is the beast...
The man artfully jumped into the air and landed on a tree, exactly as one would expect from a dragoon. Only a few moments later, as the man let himself fall back onto the ground, something had changed. Had his words and actions gone through? Had he finally understood what Zenos was truly looking for? As he followed the warrior with his gaze, the former prince took notice of the difference. If before the man was simply ready to fight, now he was clearly ready to fight. Zenos could not help but smirk, without even noticing. That was exactly what he was looking for. That change in the stance, that prideful gaze.
"Indeed." He simply replied, about the bandits being fools. They were, or they would take one single glance and understand they would have to stay far, far away. Then he listened to the man's words. "Anyone could become an opponent in the blink of an eye." He said. "I have learned this myself when my useless father attempted to spoil my Hunt. He had become an enemy." He continued. His mind went back for a moment. The rage, and then the satisfaction he felt when he had murdered him with his own hands. That was the only rhing that man deserved. "I made sure he could not do so twice."
After this brief confession, Zenos prepared to properly fight. The difference in the position of the knight's legs and arms was more than enough to tell him he would not hold back. Not much, at least. "Very well." He muttered, then he once again rotated the scythe above his head and entered his battle stance, with the weapon behind his body, ready to slice upwards, and the left hand extended forward, the arm and legs slightly bent. Then he dashed forward, ready to slice diagonally from his bottom right to top left, as the stance would have suggested. He wanted to start slow, and then pick up the pace with him. He expected the man to deviate the blow, and thus was ready to turn around and hit him with a kick straight in the abdomen right after, adding his weight to the blow.
Post by Zenos Galvus on Sept 27, 2023 17:14:43 GMT -6
Zenos viator Galvus
Garlean | 26 | 226x130 | M
This is the beast...
As soon as the man told him about the outskirts of a woodland, Zenos knew where to go. He had awakened somewhere over there, after all. So he waited for the blonde to finish his sentence, then started heading eastward. He had high expectations. He spent the whole time waiting, wondering, dreaming. He just knew that he would be good sport. That he would be entertaining. When he saw him walking closer, dressed in his chainmail and with a finely crafted spear in his hand, Zenos' lips curved upwards, even if almost imperceptibly. "Finally." he whispered to himself, before taking a few steps forward to greet the warrior.
He waited for the man to warm up as much as he needed, keeping quiet and observing him. Then it came. The utter, unbearable, complete disappointment. Light wounds only. Easily healed. Fight to the yield. In hearing those words, the former crown prince of Garlemald let the tiny smile on his lips dissolve. His eagerness, the anticipation, the quivering... it all faded into a bitterly cold glare. He took the scythe in his hands, rotated it above his head and sliced the air pointing in the man's general direction with the technique of the unyielding blade: a wave of dark-infused aether, following the shape of the slash, darted towards the lancer, less than half a foot away from his body, inevitably dissolving into thin air after a while. What was that feeling? Anger, perhaps? Frustration? Pride? He did not know.
"Do not mock me, savage." He said in an icy tone, narrowing his eyes just slightly. "This was not our agreement. Hold true to your words, or leave. I do not need to add more boredom to my own, and I tire of empty discourse. Be prepared to give me your all, except your life, or return from whence you came. There are plenty of bandits who would be more determined to overcome me than you."
Perhaps there was a bit of his princely side in this line of thought. He had always been a man of his word, no matter the promise. Was this what upset him? He could not say. All he knew was that all of a sudden he only wanted to get over with the charade and either murder this coward or leave. Most likely leave, as at this point he was probably not even worth the spent energy.
Post by Zenos Galvus on Sept 26, 2023 12:46:58 GMT -6
Zenos viator Galvus
Garlean | 26 | 226x130 | M
This is the beast...
The words of the warrior did not entirely please Zenos, but he could understand that many did not enjoy combat. He could not quite see how they could not live for it, but he did get that they were not like him. Other than that, though, he was satisfied enough by the man's reply. He would not put his life on the line, and Zenos could live with it. He would simply put a little more effort than usual -which was usually zero- on the side of self control in battle. He did not necessarily agree with him on the part of a life's value, but that would not get in the way of a potentially good fight, at least for the time being.
"Very well. Your terms are.. acceptable. I offer you a spar, and no lives shall end within it. But other than that.." he paused for only a moment, then finished the sentence saying: "... give me your all."
He looked straight into the man's eyes, with anticipation and a hint of excitement. He could not wait to see the true strength of this stranger. He expected much from him, although the former prince himself was not in the best of forms. He was well enough to fight, and expected the other warrior to do the same. He knew he would have to tune himself down just enough, as he did not want to disappoint himself nor the warrior, but he also would have never wanted for the battle to stop midway because he went too far in this man's judgement.
"Arm yourself. Simply designate a location and moment, and I shall await your presence there." he would then say, if the man agreed.
After these words, if the man chose a place and time, Zenos would simply start walking towards said place, without as much as a nod or word. And if he did not know it, he would simply ask for directions to the locals.
Post by Zenos Galvus on Sept 26, 2023 2:24:55 GMT -6
Zenos viator Galvus
Garlean | 26 | 226x130 | M
This is the beast...
He tried and tried to move, but his body did not seem to be willing to follow his orders. Why was it betraying him now, all of a sudden? He hated it. He hated every moment of that uncontrolled vulnerability. But in the end, he chose to wait. He needed to gather a little strength, and the few bites he took off that animal would have sufficed to at the very least allow him to sit up again, in a bit. So he waited, focusing on his own breathing until his ears picked up the sound of broken leaves. Someone - or something, but all things considered it would be odd for an animal to be that noisy - was coming closer. He clenched his fist. On a normal day, he would have had no problem in dealing with anyone. At that moment, though... he was vulnerable, weak, and basically unable to move.
This "someone" came closer and eventually stopped, probably when they saw him. And she touched him. He stiffened - not that he could stiffen much more at this point - and at the woman's words he tried to speak, to no avail. He managed to simply roll to the side with a small growl, ending up lying on his back and proudly glaring daggers at the woman, although only a moment later the world started to become spinning dots once again, and he was forced to close his eyes, breathing somehow heavily. He could not allow himself to be proud but he could also not truly accept to be weak. What was he supposed to do in such a situation? Ask her to heal him, perhaps? Oh, he would have, had he the strength to speak. He would have simply ordered her to heal him just enough to bring him back on his feet. But he couldn't.
He tried to raise a hand and extend his arm towards her, but he could only lift it for a few trembling inches before it stopped responding and fell back onto the ground. He hated it. He was used to pain, but this was clearly his body saying: you can't. His perfectly honed fighting machine was telling him to stop and rest. And thus was he forced to. "I..." he managed to mutter, opening his eyes again to look at her better. "Ugh.." he could not say much more than that, but at least it was better than nothing. He was not even sure if the woman could hear him, actually, as his voice had been very low, barely more than a whisper. "Heal.. me.." he managed to say. After all, he did not want to die. Not like that. And he was pretty sure his time was running out quickly.
Post by Zenos Galvus on Sept 25, 2023 5:21:32 GMT -6
Zenos viator Galvus
Garlean | 26 | 226x130 | M
This is the beast...
The man's question brought Zenos to simply stare at him for a good minute. ”Is it truly so odd to enjoy a good fight for what it is?” he asked, merely thinking out loud. ”I am not one who would wage war at another for a piece of land, retribution, or for the glory and prestige war itself may bring, unlike my father.” he continued. Only then did he notice he was actually talking, and he paused for a moment. ”Apologies, I did not mean to speak my thoughts..” he said a moment later ”.. Although it is true that I embrace violence for its own sake.”
He spoke quietly, without raising his voice or changing his expression. As if speaking as he did was completely normal to him. Like talking about the weather.
”So allow me to ask again. Will you accept?” and after only a moment ”Should you deny me, I shall not bother you any further, I will find someone else, in time.. although I would be curious to see if my instinct is still the same as ever.” The man did not deny the former prince's words before and stiffened instead, which probably meant he was actually right. Would this man be a good sport or a disappointment, he wondered? If he chose to accept at all.
His mind raced back to Varis, the former Emperor of Garlemald. At the time, he had not yet understood that some things cannot be taken by force. That he could not simply have a good fight whenever and however he pleased. He had killed his own father for spoiling his Hunt - and for many other reasons, if he had to be honest with himself -, and it only led to a terribly boring civil war. One that the former heir himself ended with a "meaningless massacre", as he classified it. He pursued that fight for what felt like eons, killing, destroying, hoping for the warrior to come to him, he longed for acceptance.. and it brought to nothing.
This time, he would not repeat his former mistakes. Should this man want to be left alone, he would leave him. He would not pursue a fight he could not have. Not anymore.
He was not quite sure how he ended up in the city of Provo. He remembered the cold embrace of death, and then opening his eyes in the unknown lands he was now roaming. He remembered awakening in a numbed and dazed state, but then there was pain, so much that even he could bear it just barely. He had gathered what strength he had left, and at some point a savage - no, a woman - came in his aid. It was the first time he had needed someone's help in a lifetime. He was not even sure of why he was helped. Him? He could not remember much of his past at the moment, evidently his almost-death had made him strongly amnesiac, but the very first things that came to mind when he thought of himself were blood and fighting. Although it felt more like a hunt than an actual fight. He knew he had the best fight of his entire life just before his "death", but he could not quite remember the face of his enemy. He only knew he held that person in high regard and was disappointed in himself for losing.
He glared at a young woman who was about to approach him with some papers. She hesitated, locking her eyes into his, then shivered and stepped back apologizing. He could not care less, as long as she would not bother him.
He caught the flow of his thoughts and went back with his mind to that challenge.
It would have been a good way to die, for him. He knew he was a wild beast, living for the spark of ruthless battle, so he was sure he would have gladly accepted to fall in battle. Yet he was still alive. Why? He had thought about it for quite some time now, and still had no answer. But no matter. He was alive, and had to find a new reason to live. His previous one - the very same person that had killed him he was fairly sure - was lost. The best thing he could probably do for the time being was to sell his strength. He had a massive frame, a well-trained body and the instinct of an animal, why should he not put them to use? He had still not recovered entirely, but he was already craving for some sport. Thus was he roaming the streets, looking for someone who could need someone to guard them, or their wares considering the amount of merchants. And a few animals of fiends would certainly not be a match for him, even in his weakened state.
Not to mention that he felt different. He knew for certain that something within him had changed, and that something was lost. He could still feel the voidsent within - it had been spent just like him and recovered with him - , but there was something else that had changed and he was curious to know exactly what, and to which extent his abilities had weakened. For this very reason, the moment he laid his eyes on a blonde man that caught his attention, he chose to walk closer and approach him. He needed to fight. It was a craving, a hunger.
But he would have to be... Polite. In the beginning, at least.
«Pardon me.» he said, looking at the man. He would wait for him to make eye contact, then stare right back to study him. His posture, his gaze. That man was a fighter, the former crown prince was more than sure of it. He had only needed to look into his eyes. «You look like a warrior.» he told the man. His expression was mostly neutral, if not slightly anticipating. Zenos knew full well that people could see one of two things into his eyes: the bitter cold of Garlemald, or the overwhelming heat of battle. He only looked at people, and they would think he was glaring. Many were more scared of his silence than of his moments of.. Anger, perhaps? He had never been good at classifying emotions.
«You have the eyes of a fighter. One who has seen many fierce battles, and won just as many.» He did not even think of telling him his name, or of asking for his. He would have forgotten anyways, as he could not care less. What he wanted was not just a word, but the fire - and for the hunger within to be sated. «Would you accept to fight me?» he eventually asked. He would not insist too much should the man refuse. He had learned by now that one cannot take everything by force. Most things, yes, but everything? The pursuit of his latest battle had proved him wrong already.
Post by Zenos Galvus on Sept 14, 2023 15:11:52 GMT -6
Thisei Virleth Note: We're in the outskirts of one of the smaller forests close to the city. He did not notice, but there is a small ranch nearby, behind a few trees.
Zenos viator Galvus
Garlean | 26 | 226x130 | M
This is the beast...
Zenos wanted to live some more. Their fight had been incredibly challenging, and entertaining. A spark, gone too soon. He couldn't even feel his body anymore. He had no strength, he was entirely spent. Yet he wanted to go on, he needed to go on. He was so disappointed in himself for his defeat. He knew he was strong... but evidently, the Warrior of Light - his first friend and worst enemy - was stronger. Barely. Perhaps only because of their will to live. Yet again, there was no point in sulking. He would soon die, as he wished, by his one and only friend's hand.
«Was this life a gift... or a burden?» He asked. He could barely even see at this point, everything was a blur. «Did you find... fulfillment?» He continued. He was curious. He wanted to know if his friend felt the same as him. If he felt like his entire existence had been only in the unknown pursuit of that very moment he was in. But would it be the same for the Warrior of Light? He did not know. «I...» He wanted to thank his friend, for the wonderful fight he was gifted. To tell the Warrior just how much he wanted to lose himself in that fight for all eternity. In them, really. But in the end, his body failed him. Everything turned black, and a bitter cold enshrouded his very soul.
When he opened his eyes, he was sure to be in a dream. He was numb, dazed, and weak as he had never felt before. Was this a moment of hallucination preceding death? No. He was starting to feel his body again. And it hurt - hells, it was hard to bear, even for him. He was gravely wounded, that he could feel and see, but he was still alive. Somehow. Slowly, he tried to sit up. It took him a few tries. Then he rested for a few moments and, holding onto the branch of a nearby tree, he eventually stood. For a moment, he thought he would faint, but then the tiny dots in his view went back to being shapes. He took some more time to breathe: he had to be careful, as he definitely did not want to die in such a shameful manner, in an unknown place. With a groan, he forced himself to walk.
Eventually, after roaming for what seemed like a lifetime - although it had probably just been a few minutes - he found an animal on his path. It was wounded, its leg stuck in what seemed to be a bear trap. He did not let the opportunity slip. With a bit of effort, he took the scythe hanging from his back, then slashed at the animal with all the force he could manage, which was not much, really. He then gathered whatever strength the hunger gave him to detach a few branches from trees and light up a bonfire. It was exhausting but worth the effort once the smell of the freshly cooked meat finally reached his nostrils.
He had learned to adapt to the environment just recently. To eat whatever he could hunt - which was generally anything - and cook it himself on the fire just like what he was doing at that very moment. It was something he had to learn in order to survive in the cold lands of Garlemald, once he was deemed a traitor. He still had the dignity to hunt for his own food, rather than beg a tavern to let him taste a piece of rotten bread in exchange for some woodcutting or cleaning.
He took a bite out of one leg. This animal was old, he could feel it in the texture of its meat, but he would not complain as he would not have had the strength to capture it had it not been trapped. A sting of pain jolted down his arm, making his hand lose grip and his food fall onto the ground. Should he get picky? He couldn't. He was way too hungry - and so he chose to put the animal's leg on the fire for a little more and then bite it once again.
Then it happened again: the world turning into dots, and then starting to spin. He fell sideways, his lunch - or maybe dinner - falling on the ground beside him. «Move..» he ordered to his body in little more than a whisper «Move... again..» but his body would not respond. Was he really going to die? Why awaken in some unfamiliar place, if all he could do was die?
