Private - Easy Prey

Zelrius,

I hope this message finds you well. If you have time and inclination, I find myself in Brisshal this day and without much else to attend to. Would you care to join me and make good on our agreement to trade my arcane knowledge for your knowledge of the blade?


After confirming that he wanted to send the message, Emil dropped his hand from the stationary place before his face and smiled to himself. Today was turning out to be an okay day. Still on break from his studies, he had more than enough time to devote to his favorite MMO. Sure, he was going on 8 hours played straight, but he didn’t feel fatigued. Why not make it a 12 hours session or, if he really wanted to go crazy, 24 hours?

He chuckled to himself as he stood. The boulder he had perched on when writing his letter was not comfortable, but it gave him a good viewpoint of some of the newbies that were spawning into the game. He saw weapons of all shapes and sizes; everything ranging from punching daggers to massive lances carried by small Faerin. He found those entertaining knowing that they would probably be paying for an avatar change in the coming months.

Emil was surprised to find that many of the new players had chosen a weapon over spellcasting. Perhaps it might have been a secondary or a tertiary mastery and thus they hadn’t picked up the requisite weapon needed, but the fact that he hadn’t seen one was worrying. Were mages a dying breed? Were the arcane arts just not interesting enough to warrant the time invested in learning the school of magic? He found the notion silly, but he wouldn’t put it past someone new to TerraSphere. It was a lot to take in; imagine having to remember incantations along with everything else.

Straightening his robe, he glared at the frayed sleeves and a few of the stitching that he could see coming up from the material. He needed new wares, that was for sure, but he hadn’t the cash to make such a purchase just yet. It was a shame that gambling ring wasn’t in town. He could do with another 100 gold…if he was lucky.

That was the real reason he was here in the newbie starting area. The mobs were easy to kill and they dropped enough trash loot that he could make a pretty penny selling it to the merchants back in the city. Maybe, if he were fortunate, he would amass enough to buy a new robe. But for now, he waited, golden gaze scouring the horizon for the familiar blond head belonging to a certain swordsman. ​

@Zelrius

 

Zelrius

@Emil Trevelyan,

This message did find me well, and I hope this one finds you as well. Of course I will honour that agreement, I am in Stokbon as of this moment but I can head out to you here shortly. What village are you in or close to? Perhaps we can meet up somewhere close to ya, like an inn or something. Just let me know.

Please Don't Kill Me,
Zelrius.

He laughed to himself as the man tacked that final little bit there on the end, the Salutation ending being a joke both to himself, and just something random to tack on the end to give a bit of spice to what otherwise feels like a boring and status report-y message. While Zelrius himself had been in Terrasphere all day as well, he also had work the next day, but elected he could get away with spending another 12 or so hours in the game, and running on a handful of hours of sleep before a short day at work the next day. Or atleast, that made sense in the golden haired man's mind.

With that, the order he had made at the butcher he was at came back around, and the two exchanged a few words of pleasntries, Zelrius handed over some gold, and then the Butcher handed over the needed good; Arctodus's new recommendation, pre-seasoned beef, and like that, the Swordsman was off, headed towards the rolling fields of Brisshal. Though his initial meander was just that; a slow jaunt through the roads and out of Stokbon as he took his sweet time. waiting on picking a definite direction until he had received an answer back from Emil.

Once the answer was received, the golden haired man found himself heading in that particular direction, west of Stokbon and into the trees of the forests of Brisshal. Something that Zelrius had had crop up in his mind but he tried not to think about too much, was the fact that he actually had no interest in pyromancy anymore, knowing full well exactly which masteries he wanted now. Still, he was more than happy to spend time with Emil and maybe the two could learn things from eachother, either through words or tips and tricks when on the battlefield, so it was a win win either way.

It didn't take long before Zelrius began to see the familiar sight of landscapes and Gaian markers that indicated he was in the place where Emil had said he'd be at. And once that was sorted, it was easy to see him from atop his boulder, Blue eyes looking up for that golden gaze, though he was too far to see actual colour from the eyes of his new found friend, his dresscode was enough of an identifier on it's own, now making a slow stroll toward the rock and up the side of it. "Nice View," He commented, grinning, using that as a vocal introduction.

 

In Emil’s message back, he described a portion of the starting area of Brisshal that was relatively out of the way. There were some tall pinetrees near by that gave the little glen some decent coverage, but it was likely to be missed by new players just spawning into the area. There was nothing to immediately draw the eye, so the scenic spot was likely to be overlooked.

Emil knew of an event that took place during the evening hours in this little glen. It was whimsical, with fairies and will-o-wisps and a few dryads. Mostly it was a fetch event with little to no combat whatsoever; a nice and easy way for a few newbies to practice their new abilities.

He turned upon hearing Zel’s familiar voice, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. The magus wouldn’t consider them fast friends, but acquaintances at the very least. He liked the idea, though he would never voice such things. After all, this was a game meant to be played with others. There was only so much a solo-player like Emil could accomplish before he needed to ask for some sort of assistance.

The view is pleasing, yes, Emil murmured in reply while nodding his head in agreement. Gingerly, he hopped down from the boulder and stood before the blond swordsman. There were a few inches difference in their height, but otherwise, Emil considered him an equal.

I am thankful for your meeting me here, he said while extending his hand for a handshake. I also have gotten in touch with someone whom might have known…our mutual friend before her disappearance. Yes, it appears that I was wrong in assuming that the diabolical mastermind was a male. His shoulders bounced up and down and he looked off into the distance, his golden eyes quickly scanning the long shadows and the thick trunks of the trees. He didn’t want someone to overhear their conversation.

Apparently she was not very diabolical at all. Which, all things considered, is good for you and I as whatever might be…below the location we spoke of might not be so nefarious after all. He cleared his throat as his attention came back to the male standing opposite of him. But we are here to practice an artform, not speak on such things. I apologize, I merely meant to keep you informed. Now, tell me, how does one go about wielding this thing effectively?

He threw back one side of his robe so that Zelrius could see the pommel of a rapier sheathed at his waist. The blade looked worn and there was no lustrous sparkle adorning the pommel, but it looked functional. And considering Emil’s preference for fire magic, perhaps all he needed was functional to begin with.​

 

Emil commented on the view, and for a moment, Zelrius stared off into it, a bit of longing filling him as his head cleared of previously held memories. It was a good feeling, to be free of the self-loathing and constant berating of his own abilities, and to just imagine a whole fantasy world beyond the horizon, where he was in more control of what was going on around him than he did in the 'real world'. The relatively short walk here wasn't bad, and while 'short' was a manner of perspective, it was short, atleast, compartively speaking from some of the blonde haired man's trips to and from the Dunnstadds all the way through Brisshal and the Adecus Forest and past those trees into the fungi infested wastelands of the Esuilus.

Still, it seemed now that time was over, and now he was back in reality as Emil stood and the two exchanged glances. In that moment, Zelrius wondered why Emil had choosen him of all people to train with the blade with, afterall, the golden haired man was sure there were more than a few people who were more capable than him with his sword, and Zelrius himself wasn't very good at teaching.

It seemed for the moment that was not the subject, as he was given a few words regarding the author of the journal, a dot Zelrius had trouble connecting for just a moment when Emil first brought it back up, eventually registering it when the words Diabolical Mastermind came up. He raised an eyebrow, giving a shrug. Though Emil went on to share more information, some of which the golden haired man could actually follow, a few more unrelated dots connecting in his head about the person. He wasn't able to pick up any information on that itself, but instead had related things to talk about with his well-read acquaintance.

"Right, well on that same note," he fiddled with the air for a second, not realizing that other players can't see your own Menu. "I got Solaria to agree to come with us. I believe we need a tank as well, and if it's no trouble to you, I'd like to invite another healer, since the knife ear is planning on going Hybrid for our future Catacomb journey. Thoughts?" Though he ended it there, agreeing with Emil that they were here to do something else entirely. Which only brought back the nervousness.

This was amplified by the fact that as the man threw back his cloak and drew his sword, he realized that he drew two instead of one; a fact that had become completely second nature to him by this point. So they had run into their first problem, one that the man addressed. "So, uh, my style is kind of eh," he swung the blades and spun a bit on his heel. "Dancy? Like, I really only know how to deal effectively with two swords, and even then-" He gave a few more test swings and movements. "It's sloppy, at best." Now, could the golden haired man fight with only one blade? Yes. He had done it for the first few days in the game, before he could get his hands on a second one. Was he good at it? Not in an aggressive fashion no.

Though their conversation just moments earlier gave the man a work around Idea. He produced the Scythe from his inventory; the thing materializing on his back before Zelrius held it with both hands, giving it a few spins. It was obvious that with his Slashing Mastery, the game was giving some major handicap assists, but he supposed that would be something Emil ought to learn how to deal with too. "Here's my thinking," and now his wrists turned and twisted rapidly, spinning the scythe in circles until it became a blur before stopping it. "A Rapier is meant to jab with, as I am sure you know. So, first we'll do timing, and then work on other styles. For timing," He now spun it again just as he had. "See if you can time your jabs to get behind the Scythe and give me a light poke. Bonus brownie points if you can specifically angle to hit my left wrist." Zelrius wasn't sure what level of mastery Emil already had in it, but this was certainly a way to gauge that exact thing.

 

The name that Zelrius gave him meant nothing. Neither did the moniker he used to describe the healer. Knife-ear? Emil arched an eyebrow and pursed his lips, wanting to express his confusion at the terminology, but refraining. He would merely look up these things on his own time and figure them out himself. At least he had a name now. Solaria. Perhaps he would message her when all this was said and done, just to get to know who would likely be their third party member.

Unfortunately, he had no one to suggest that could fill the roll in which Zelrius spoke of. Emil knew…no one in this game, not really, and this conversation reminded him of that. He couldn’t put his finger on why he couldn’t or didn’t click with other players of TerraSphere, but was able to find companionship and friendship out in the real world with the same ease in which he breathed.

He would save those thoughts for another time.

Emil took a step back as Zelrius unsheathed his blades, his amber eyes rapt with attention. They traveled swiftly up and down the swordsman’s arms, taking in the ebb and flow of his muscles, the tightness of his fingers on the pommel, his stance; there were no secrets under Emil’s gaze.

I daresay you look sloppy from here, Emil murmured as he looked Zelrius in the eye. Your stance is strong, your form impeccable. You have good lines and your weight seems to be distributed evenly. No, you dismiss the skill that your muscles already know. You are not sloppy at all.

Watching the familiar scythe materialize in Zelrius’s grip, Emil likewise drew his rapier. When the other male began to spin the weapon, the magus had to frown. There was no way he’d be able to get a hit on him. Still, this was about trying out new things, right? So, taking a few practice swings to get the feel of the weapon in his hand (this was so different than spellcasting!), he made an experimental jab toward Zelrius and was met with resistance. The rapier pinged off the spinning scythe.

He tried again with much the same results. Grumbling to himself, he made another thrust and, surprisingly, found that he had done it! Sure, he had been off his mark (read: not even close) to hitting Zelrius’s wrist, but he had gotten past his spinning which was progress…and good progress for someone completely unfamiliar with martial weapons.

Hm. Which would you say was better, Zelrius: weapons that jab, like this rapier, or weapons that slash, like your cutlass?​

 

It appeared that conversation would have to wait, all for the better, the two were here to train an art, not to ramble on about planning of an event that they still had no definite time for, and little idea of how to prepare. Of course, it could probably be safely assumed that you would prepare for it the same way one prepares for any dungeon in any game, from World of Warcraft to Dungeons and Dragons. In other-words, Bring lots and lots of consumables, and always be ready to die. The good news about that last part is you just respawn, the bad news if that happens you miss out on whatever cool shit might be inside, loot included. How saddening that'd be for any individual person. Zelrius thought that maybe it would be time soon enough to devise a plan for loot so that even those who fall can get an equal share brought to them by those who didn't. Another conversation for another day.

The golden haired man grew a bit self-conscious as the man watched his movements, his knuckles tightening, but then instinctively loosening knowing that it was bad form to really squeeze the pommel like that. Still, it was a weird feeling, for someone to actually observe and learn something from watching him of all people. The swordsman was sure there were plenty of other people who were better, but perhaps Emil didn't know any of those people. And to be fair, neither did Zelrius really. He supposed there was Kaede, but given what the amber eyed man had between his legs, that woman was probably not going to be very interested.

The man's comment caused a pink hue to form on Zelrius' face as he tried to deflect it. "I- uh, thank you? Ehm, eee- Perhaps I feel sloppy because it's been a while since I've had to fight anything really challenging," He remarked, a glance at the distance as he could only recall the fight with a cave dragon that he and Ilya had a few weeks ago. It was enough of that, back to Rapier talk.

The first hit dinged like the golden haired man expected it would; not because he doubted Emil, but because he knew that he was spinning it maybe a bit too fast and would slow down if he was unable to get it after more than a few times. Though by the second jab, Emil got it, which caused a grin to form over the scythe-wielder's face as he explained the purpose. "So, as I said; It's all about timing with a Rapier. So here's my next example." He spun the Scythe again, though making sure to count out three rotations one way, and then quickly swapping it to spin the other way, intentionally spinning his wrist as the Scythe was horizontal to him to make it swing downward both ways faster. When spinning it clockwise, this would leave a gap on the upper half where a blade could slip in, and when spinning it counter-clockwise, a similar gap on the bottom half, though he wouldn't mention this, and simply let the man before him figure it out.

"To answer," He said while spinning and then shifting directions of the spin again. "I of course prefer Slashing like my cutlasses. Though there are many kinds of slashing, curved blades like mine are meant to inflict slash wounds to disable opponents rather than kill them right off. They were originally widely used by the Seljuk conquerors as a way of taking as many prisoners as possible; either for the purposes of selling, torturing, or what even one thought was 'enlightening' those prisoners to the ways of their countries and how it was better than European Values. The Rapier was used shortly after the advent of chainmail, and was specifically built to be light and fast to get inbetween chain mail links or plates of armor. So as for which is better? For effectiveness, I think the Slashing weapon types are, but don't mistake that as me saying Rapiers are useless." The last part having been rushed out of his lips rather quickly, nervous that he was going to bore this acquaintance of his on a subject the man probably didn't care too much about.