This entry is recorded as the twenty-fourth sun of the First Astral Moon.
[[LOTS OF BLOOOOOOOOOD.]]
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This is day one under the care of the Brotherhood.
The desert's burning rays were what Oscare awoke too, scratching at his eyes. "Damn, and I thought it was hot in the Goblet..." Oscare lets out with a yawn accompanied immediately afterwards. He scoots out of the tent he created right outside of the Brotherhood perimeters, looking up at the meeting stones. "Okay." He simply says, climbing up the steps after grabbing his gear.
The meeting stones were buzzing about with many large beastialmen, moving about and waking up each member and motioning for the night watchers to take their rest. Stonefist approached Oscare and greets with a bow of his head. "Morning, ally." He growls out, a little obvious that he just only recently awoke. "I have a mission for you if you are ready this morn."
Oscare tilts his head towards Stonefist and nods. "Good," Stonefist says. "Then you are to take Adeptagg with you and head to the Tempered Circle south of here. Ifrit's burning sense of hatred seems to grow ever stronger and is resonating with the tempered." Stonefist says, half-warning like. "Do not tread lightly, the tempered are savages. If you can get rid of them, it will help against the resistance they put up and give us opportunity to strike at Blitzagg without outside hazard."Â
"Makes sense, even if it's busy work." Oscare looks out to where Stonefist had pointed. South? Truth be told, Oscare had never actually personally dealt with too much tempered. Oscare looks back to Stonefist and nods, Quicktongue emerging suddenly behind Oscare. Reflexively, Oscare twists his head to Quicktongue -- who was the one who made a snark towards Oscare. Quicktongue doesn't look too pleased to be with Oscare, but doesn't say anything about it.
Stonefist motions for the two to go, prompting the duo to do as assigned. After two two had exited the meeting stone and started heading north, Quicktongue speaks when they cross the bridge.
"You." He says. That's it.
Oscare twists his head as they walk. "Yeah?"
"Nothing."
"Okay."
Awkward much? Very. It was only a matter of time before the two find themselves in an expansive, dried out grass plain. Tumbleweed flies around everywhere, but it was a better sight than just nonstop sand blowing in the face. Oscare throws his hand in the air to catch sandless wind in his arm. He then throws up the air, stretching his whole mass of bulk. A yawn, series of grunts, ended by a long exhale and rolling of the shoulders. Taking steps forwards and cracking the sanded over gross, Oscare looks all over in search of enemies.Â
Quicktongue copies this motion, looking about. A voice not belonging to either of them is heard -- just small whispers. Oscare and Quicktongue back up into each other, back-to-back and spinning around in search of the whisper. The wind whirs, a notion Oscare follows.Â
"The wind whispers," Oscare says, Quicktongue responding with a sort of "are you crazy" look. "I know this -- Oschon does not lie." Oscare continues, closing his eyes and hearing the wind. A tumbleweed rolls in and follows the wind, causing Oscare to open his eyes and following the tumbleweed. The deadplant crashes into a stone wall standing tall and erect -- but there's something strange. Is that the corner of the head? No, it's a voice!
"Adeptagg, over there!" Oscare points, running and seperating from Quicktongue as he runs in the opposite direction. A small ball of fire flows from behind the wall, exploding where Oscare and his amalj'aa companion were standing and explodes. Oscare draws his bow and runs towards the wall. Upon getting in range, four more tempered roll out -- all of different races. All were female though. Two sword fences, one seeker and one midlander. A warrior with a large axe donned by a wildwood elezen, and a dunesfolk honing a staff. A roegadyn woman with her own staff jumps from behind the wall. Oscare cracks his knuckles, eyes fixing on the elezen.Â
"Sorry beautiful, but you're going down first." Oscare fires an arrow immediately aimed at the warrior, but the seeker swats the arrow away with ease -- even if it was instant and expertly aimed! The highlander looks absolutely surprised. 'D-Did she just... slice my arrow...?'
"You shoot with your right," Quicktongue randomly speaks, appearing behind him. "Are you mentally deficient? No archer uses his right to aim and shoot! No good one!" Quicktongue releases his own fire spell, breaking up the four women that were grouped. "Use your left! Make sure your accurate, move while shooting! Hone multiple arrows in your hand, shoot multiple at once!" Quicktongue barks, Oscare holding his head.
"-- Wh -- don't tell me what to do! I'm a sniper, damn you!" Oscare grunts back, fixing on the roegadyn thaumaturge who was about to sling another spell. Frustrated, Oscare runs over and uses the hooked end of his bow to pierce through the underside of her chin. Using his brute and current momentum, Oscare lifts the bow and her and throws her over his shoulder, the sea wolf landing on the ground with a loud thud and becoming a helpless corpse.Â
Quicktongue shakes his head, watching the four he broke up recovering. The two fencers are the fastest, one aimed for Quicktongue and the other for Oscare. Quicktongue slaps the seeker fencer down, rolling and screaming from the pain. Oscare deflects the rapier from the midlander with his bow. Oscare manages to catch a glimpse -- a black haired woman with light green eyes -- so light they look like white steel. He pushes her away with his bow in frustration, shaking from the sight of her. She looks a lot like Jancis. Even now, he can hear her voice in his ears.
'Fight back,' her voice resounds. Oscare roars, grabbing the woman's head causing her to screech. Oscare's hold on her hair tightens and drags her to the wall, smashing her head flat against the stone and causing it to explode. Blood smears all over the stone and starts flowing out uncontrollably from the now beheaded midlander. Oscare spits on the corpse. "No one copies Jancis' beauty." He comments, growling. Quicktongue is thrown by the seeker that he slapped down by a stab to the gut in retaliation. Oscare looks over as soon as he hears the slam on the ground, Quicktongue pushes a hand against his wound. The seeker licks the blood clean off the sword, fixing her gaze on the highlander who just smashed a midlander's head.
The two run towards against each other, exchanging weapon swings and kicks that don't connect. A gut kick parried by her fist -- a scratch slapped away by a bow. The two continue against each other with no clear winner until the seeker provides the opportunity by nearly falling on her face from a missed attack. Oscare quickly uses a free hand to shoot the seeker's brain out -- a river of blood flowing from the side of her head. Lifting his chin, the wildwood simply looks interested in the fighting, it seems. She motions for the lalafell to go, the small creature sprinting forward. She was an easy target for someone as gigantic as Oscare. He kicks the lalafell away when the dunesfolk tried to twack his knee with a staff. She rolls away almost perfectly ball-like. Quicktongue recovers, and slings an almost instant explosion at her. With no screams, the lalafell explodes from the outside in, chunks of meat flying towards the wall.
After yet another gruesome sight, the wildwood finally takes action. For a heavy looking axe, she was quick. She was almost as fast as Oscare -- pushing the amalj'aa almost triple her size with relative ease away from the blunt end of her bardiche. She swings at Oscare immediately after, giving the man only a small frame of time to jump away. Her swing grazes Oscare, a cut appearing on his midsection.Â
Oscare retaliates by a snap kick to her ear, but the elezen swats away the leg easily, responding with a shoulder tackle and knocking the highlander down. Oscare uses his hands to make a handstand and hop backwards onto his feet from kissing the ground. Using his right hand again, Oscare fires a badly aimed show that just clinks helplessly off the blade of the bardiche. Quicktongue scoots himself up and yells at Oscare again. "Use your left, dammit!"
Oscare grunts, turning and running from the other combatant. The elezen follows after him -- the two equal in speed. Oscare breaks into a sprint, outrunning the woman. She attempts to use her bardiche as a tomahawk, stopping in place and spinning around in place to build up arm momentum. Oscare finally reaches the wall when she throws her axe, narrowly dodging the axe with a ducking maneuver. The axe gets stuck in the wall as Oscare continues to run. When he's on the opposite end of the wall, Oscare looks back. The elezen is persistent, trying to get her axe back. Oscare takes a moment to catch his breath and look at his left. Using his left hand to shoot...
It's worth a try.
Oscare spins on the ball of a foot, facing the elezen struggling to get the axe out. Oscare roars, running toward her with the bow in his hand. He grabs an arrow with the left hand and bow in the right. He makes a jump while running, momentarily running on the wall for a brief two seconds. He makes a jump off the wall, gaining major air over the elezen. Enough for an overhead, even. He aims in the air with his left hand...
And shoots. A much more faster shot than his first reflexive shot. The arrow pierces right through the elezen's head, blood splattering over the wall and making the elezen limp and dead. Oscare lands with a damaged grunt, panting. He looks at Quicktongue, still pressing his wound as he walks towards Oscare. Quicktongue points northwards.
A massive group of tempered saw the fight, all dropping their weapons and running away. Oscare looks up at Quicktongue. "... So. How do you know so many arrow tricks?"
"It's common sense," Quicktongue grunts in response, grabbing the bow and pointing at the string. "Silly Eorzeans use their right hand to aim. This is because you do not move while shooting. However, you surely felt how much more natural it was to use your left. The right side provides too much slow down, so it's better to just sit still, yes. The left side of the shaft provides better support for movement, accuracy, firepower, and speed." Quicktongue starts to explain. "You can move, aim, and shoot within moments flat."
Oscare nods. "It did feel a lot... faster. Natural." Oscare looks at the bow that Quicktongue looks back.
... He learned something here.
He's been doing it all wrong.
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This concludes the first part of this entry. For space and convenience, this entry is split into two parts.
[[LOTS OF BLOOOOOOOOOD.]]
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This is day one under the care of the Brotherhood.
The desert's burning rays were what Oscare awoke too, scratching at his eyes. "Damn, and I thought it was hot in the Goblet..." Oscare lets out with a yawn accompanied immediately afterwards. He scoots out of the tent he created right outside of the Brotherhood perimeters, looking up at the meeting stones. "Okay." He simply says, climbing up the steps after grabbing his gear.
The meeting stones were buzzing about with many large beastialmen, moving about and waking up each member and motioning for the night watchers to take their rest. Stonefist approached Oscare and greets with a bow of his head. "Morning, ally." He growls out, a little obvious that he just only recently awoke. "I have a mission for you if you are ready this morn."
Oscare tilts his head towards Stonefist and nods. "Good," Stonefist says. "Then you are to take Adeptagg with you and head to the Tempered Circle south of here. Ifrit's burning sense of hatred seems to grow ever stronger and is resonating with the tempered." Stonefist says, half-warning like. "Do not tread lightly, the tempered are savages. If you can get rid of them, it will help against the resistance they put up and give us opportunity to strike at Blitzagg without outside hazard."Â
"Makes sense, even if it's busy work." Oscare looks out to where Stonefist had pointed. South? Truth be told, Oscare had never actually personally dealt with too much tempered. Oscare looks back to Stonefist and nods, Quicktongue emerging suddenly behind Oscare. Reflexively, Oscare twists his head to Quicktongue -- who was the one who made a snark towards Oscare. Quicktongue doesn't look too pleased to be with Oscare, but doesn't say anything about it.
Stonefist motions for the two to go, prompting the duo to do as assigned. After two two had exited the meeting stone and started heading north, Quicktongue speaks when they cross the bridge.
"You." He says. That's it.
Oscare twists his head as they walk. "Yeah?"
"Nothing."
"Okay."
Awkward much? Very. It was only a matter of time before the two find themselves in an expansive, dried out grass plain. Tumbleweed flies around everywhere, but it was a better sight than just nonstop sand blowing in the face. Oscare throws his hand in the air to catch sandless wind in his arm. He then throws up the air, stretching his whole mass of bulk. A yawn, series of grunts, ended by a long exhale and rolling of the shoulders. Taking steps forwards and cracking the sanded over gross, Oscare looks all over in search of enemies.Â
Quicktongue copies this motion, looking about. A voice not belonging to either of them is heard -- just small whispers. Oscare and Quicktongue back up into each other, back-to-back and spinning around in search of the whisper. The wind whirs, a notion Oscare follows.Â
"The wind whispers," Oscare says, Quicktongue responding with a sort of "are you crazy" look. "I know this -- Oschon does not lie." Oscare continues, closing his eyes and hearing the wind. A tumbleweed rolls in and follows the wind, causing Oscare to open his eyes and following the tumbleweed. The deadplant crashes into a stone wall standing tall and erect -- but there's something strange. Is that the corner of the head? No, it's a voice!
"Adeptagg, over there!" Oscare points, running and seperating from Quicktongue as he runs in the opposite direction. A small ball of fire flows from behind the wall, exploding where Oscare and his amalj'aa companion were standing and explodes. Oscare draws his bow and runs towards the wall. Upon getting in range, four more tempered roll out -- all of different races. All were female though. Two sword fences, one seeker and one midlander. A warrior with a large axe donned by a wildwood elezen, and a dunesfolk honing a staff. A roegadyn woman with her own staff jumps from behind the wall. Oscare cracks his knuckles, eyes fixing on the elezen.Â
"Sorry beautiful, but you're going down first." Oscare fires an arrow immediately aimed at the warrior, but the seeker swats the arrow away with ease -- even if it was instant and expertly aimed! The highlander looks absolutely surprised. 'D-Did she just... slice my arrow...?'
"You shoot with your right," Quicktongue randomly speaks, appearing behind him. "Are you mentally deficient? No archer uses his right to aim and shoot! No good one!" Quicktongue releases his own fire spell, breaking up the four women that were grouped. "Use your left! Make sure your accurate, move while shooting! Hone multiple arrows in your hand, shoot multiple at once!" Quicktongue barks, Oscare holding his head.
"-- Wh -- don't tell me what to do! I'm a sniper, damn you!" Oscare grunts back, fixing on the roegadyn thaumaturge who was about to sling another spell. Frustrated, Oscare runs over and uses the hooked end of his bow to pierce through the underside of her chin. Using his brute and current momentum, Oscare lifts the bow and her and throws her over his shoulder, the sea wolf landing on the ground with a loud thud and becoming a helpless corpse.Â
Quicktongue shakes his head, watching the four he broke up recovering. The two fencers are the fastest, one aimed for Quicktongue and the other for Oscare. Quicktongue slaps the seeker fencer down, rolling and screaming from the pain. Oscare deflects the rapier from the midlander with his bow. Oscare manages to catch a glimpse -- a black haired woman with light green eyes -- so light they look like white steel. He pushes her away with his bow in frustration, shaking from the sight of her. She looks a lot like Jancis. Even now, he can hear her voice in his ears.
'Fight back,' her voice resounds. Oscare roars, grabbing the woman's head causing her to screech. Oscare's hold on her hair tightens and drags her to the wall, smashing her head flat against the stone and causing it to explode. Blood smears all over the stone and starts flowing out uncontrollably from the now beheaded midlander. Oscare spits on the corpse. "No one copies Jancis' beauty." He comments, growling. Quicktongue is thrown by the seeker that he slapped down by a stab to the gut in retaliation. Oscare looks over as soon as he hears the slam on the ground, Quicktongue pushes a hand against his wound. The seeker licks the blood clean off the sword, fixing her gaze on the highlander who just smashed a midlander's head.
The two run towards against each other, exchanging weapon swings and kicks that don't connect. A gut kick parried by her fist -- a scratch slapped away by a bow. The two continue against each other with no clear winner until the seeker provides the opportunity by nearly falling on her face from a missed attack. Oscare quickly uses a free hand to shoot the seeker's brain out -- a river of blood flowing from the side of her head. Lifting his chin, the wildwood simply looks interested in the fighting, it seems. She motions for the lalafell to go, the small creature sprinting forward. She was an easy target for someone as gigantic as Oscare. He kicks the lalafell away when the dunesfolk tried to twack his knee with a staff. She rolls away almost perfectly ball-like. Quicktongue recovers, and slings an almost instant explosion at her. With no screams, the lalafell explodes from the outside in, chunks of meat flying towards the wall.
After yet another gruesome sight, the wildwood finally takes action. For a heavy looking axe, she was quick. She was almost as fast as Oscare -- pushing the amalj'aa almost triple her size with relative ease away from the blunt end of her bardiche. She swings at Oscare immediately after, giving the man only a small frame of time to jump away. Her swing grazes Oscare, a cut appearing on his midsection.Â
Oscare retaliates by a snap kick to her ear, but the elezen swats away the leg easily, responding with a shoulder tackle and knocking the highlander down. Oscare uses his hands to make a handstand and hop backwards onto his feet from kissing the ground. Using his right hand again, Oscare fires a badly aimed show that just clinks helplessly off the blade of the bardiche. Quicktongue scoots himself up and yells at Oscare again. "Use your left, dammit!"
Oscare grunts, turning and running from the other combatant. The elezen follows after him -- the two equal in speed. Oscare breaks into a sprint, outrunning the woman. She attempts to use her bardiche as a tomahawk, stopping in place and spinning around in place to build up arm momentum. Oscare finally reaches the wall when she throws her axe, narrowly dodging the axe with a ducking maneuver. The axe gets stuck in the wall as Oscare continues to run. When he's on the opposite end of the wall, Oscare looks back. The elezen is persistent, trying to get her axe back. Oscare takes a moment to catch his breath and look at his left. Using his left hand to shoot...
It's worth a try.
Oscare spins on the ball of a foot, facing the elezen struggling to get the axe out. Oscare roars, running toward her with the bow in his hand. He grabs an arrow with the left hand and bow in the right. He makes a jump while running, momentarily running on the wall for a brief two seconds. He makes a jump off the wall, gaining major air over the elezen. Enough for an overhead, even. He aims in the air with his left hand...
And shoots. A much more faster shot than his first reflexive shot. The arrow pierces right through the elezen's head, blood splattering over the wall and making the elezen limp and dead. Oscare lands with a damaged grunt, panting. He looks at Quicktongue, still pressing his wound as he walks towards Oscare. Quicktongue points northwards.
A massive group of tempered saw the fight, all dropping their weapons and running away. Oscare looks up at Quicktongue. "... So. How do you know so many arrow tricks?"
"It's common sense," Quicktongue grunts in response, grabbing the bow and pointing at the string. "Silly Eorzeans use their right hand to aim. This is because you do not move while shooting. However, you surely felt how much more natural it was to use your left. The right side provides too much slow down, so it's better to just sit still, yes. The left side of the shaft provides better support for movement, accuracy, firepower, and speed." Quicktongue starts to explain. "You can move, aim, and shoot within moments flat."
Oscare nods. "It did feel a lot... faster. Natural." Oscare looks at the bow that Quicktongue looks back.
... He learned something here.
He's been doing it all wrong.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This concludes the first part of this entry. For space and convenience, this entry is split into two parts.
"Critical fails; for when the GM sobs at night and the players get free checks."