Azrie Part: 1/2
Matt broke in a violent coughing fit, charcoal filled the air and he already felt like death after giving Blair mana arrows. He looked around with confusion only to realize he was in a mineshaft, the walls were charred and blackened, and the wood supports were burnt and on the verge of collapse. Matt recovered his breaths as his memories caught up to him; flooding his mind vividly.
Right, he had told Blair to not kill Dante. Yes, he hated Dante, but he would have just felt bad if he straight up died at the hands of the elf. Yes, she was magnanimous even, considering she did not go in a killing spree— no that didn’t matter right now. Matt interrupted himself, stopping his train of thought, instead he chose to look around and take his surroundings in, the earthly burnt smell reached his nostrils once more, and like before, he brought in a coughing fit. His lungs felt drained, and he was practically drenched in sweat, the ambient temperature was hot, in the three digits at least.
He reached for his bow for the first time in a while and treaded carefully. The ground crunched after every step, his steel-tipped boots still held strong, but he was unsure for how long. He had undergone a trial without even thinking too much about it, he had been so caught up on getting a Prophecy, that he didn’t think of the process. And now. The ground crunched and softened. He was facing this process.
As soon as he peered outside, his heart came to a stop. It was a dull world, a charcoal black and white world, the sky itself was nothing but gray, a dull forest greeted him with ghastly stick-like trees, smoke billowed from numerous places as his eyes moved on and about. He took a deep breath as more charcoal entered his throat, almost making him break in a cough. Matt cursed to himself before choosing to remove his shirt and put it over his mouth to filter some of the dust. A few seconds later he scanned around with renewed vigor.
The place was utterly dull and seemingly devoid of life. The first thought on his mind was: How is this a trial? Matt closed his eyes before decidedly advancing. He felt a small smidget of worry for Blair, even though they weren’t in the best terms— no she definitely disliked him by now. But he was still thankful to her, in spite of her blatant arrow stealing even after trying to hand back the quiver. How would she have reacted if he had taken the arrows of the quiver before handing it to her? He didn’t want to know, that was for certain.
He slowly walked through the forest, broken sticks, misplaced ashes, and trampled rocks; footprints filled the ground, small ones laced with ash that led nowhere and everywhere at the same time, as if something had been roaming throughout the entire forest. It was nothing more than a tangled mess akin to a headphone wire. Matt did a double take trying to guess the animal’s footprints but couldn’t quite make them out. They were similar to a dog’s but a bit different. Then again, even the foxes in the skirmish were relatively similar to the foxes of earth, minus a few key differences such as tails. But well, checking the footprints did nothing, instead he looked at the skyline, or rather; at the billowing smoke. They most likely held some type of hint regarding his trial given it was fire themed.
Matt walked on slight alert, the place was deadly quiet, not a single soul around. Accompanied by his own breath he couldn’t help but feel mild anxiety, he had never been alone quite like this before. He nocked an arrow on his bow and looked around, eyes darting throughout the whole journey.
It took an indeterminate amount of time, it felt like a long while before he finally saw something. But it wasn’t what he was expecting, no— it was akin to a festival fire, piles of wood bunched into squares, but they had decayed with nothing but billowed smoke. Surely there had to be a hint?
And then, a growl entered his ears. With a small pause, Matt darted in the direction of the growl with the string of his bow already pulled. He saw a wolf, it was fully black and its eyes were akin to two shiny black holes, nothing but a reflective oily black.
[Wolfe.]
A wolf? Matt frowned given that there was no level for him to make sense of. The wolf growled at him and decidedly pounced, Matt fired his arrow decisively and the beast was hit mid air. It yelped in pain streaking through the space before dully landing on the ground as it slid off.
Matt frowned, It was a bit too easy no?
And then, the wolf on the ground growled, its body seemingly partly melted as the arrow landed on the ground. And once more, it looked at him with the same snarling expression, its eyes indifferent.
[Wolfe.]
No change?
Matt began to feel some uneasiness. Did he need to use his skills? His mana was almost empty though, and he already knew what happened when running out of it. He simply couldn’t have that. He waited for the wolf to pounce once more, it was slow and slightly methodic—linear even, easy to see, easy to predict. He knifed, plunged, stabbed the wolf but it would always get up. Matt felt no threat from it, but he felt a pang of uneasiness.
There was only a wolf. No matter where he looked, the only thing present was the wolf that had been attacking him for some time now, and its name was— well it remained the same no matter what he did.
[Wolfe.]
Azrie Part: 1/2
Matt broke in a violent coughing fit, charcoal filled the air and he already felt like death after giving Blair mana arrows. He looked around with confusion only to realize he was in a mineshaft, the walls were charred and blackened, and the wood supports were burnt and on the verge of collapse. Matt recovered his breaths as his memories caught up to him; flooding his mind vividly.
Right, he had told Blair to not kill Dante. Yes, he hated Dante, but he would have just felt bad if he straight up died at the hands of the elf. Yes, she was magnanimous even, considering she did not go in a killing spree— no that didn’t matter right now. Matt interrupted himself, stopping his train of thought, instead he chose to look around and take his surroundings in, the earthly burnt smell reached his nostrils once more, and like before, he brought in a coughing fit. His lungs felt drained, and he was practically drenched in sweat, the ambient temperature was hot, in the three digits at least.
He reached for his bow for the first time in a while and treaded carefully. The ground crunched after every step, his steel-tipped boots still held strong, but he was unsure for how long. He had undergone a trial without even thinking too much about it, he had been so caught up on getting a Prophecy, that he didn’t think of the process. And now. The ground crunched and softened. He was facing this process.
As soon as he peered outside, his heart came to a stop. It was a dull world, a charcoal black and white world, the sky itself was nothing but gray, a dull forest greeted him with ghastly stick-like trees, smoke billowed from numerous places as his eyes moved on and about. He took a deep breath as more charcoal entered his throat, almost making him break in a cough. Matt cursed to himself before choosing to remove his shirt and put it over his mouth to filter some of the dust. A few seconds later he scanned around with renewed vigor.
The place was utterly dull and seemingly devoid of life. The first thought on his mind was: How is this a trial? Matt closed his eyes before decidedly advancing. He felt a small smidget of worry for Blair, even though they weren’t in the best terms— no she definitely disliked him by now. But he was still thankful to her, in spite of her blatant arrow stealing even after trying to hand back the quiver. How would she have reacted if he had taken the arrows of the quiver before handing it to her? He didn’t want to know, that was for certain.
He slowly walked through the forest, broken sticks, misplaced ashes, and trampled rocks; footprints filled the ground, small ones laced with ash that led nowhere and everywhere at the same time, as if something had been roaming throughout the entire forest. It was nothing more than a tangled mess akin to a headphone wire. Matt did a double take trying to guess the animal’s footprints but couldn’t quite make them out. They were similar to a dog’s but a bit different. Then again, even the foxes in the skirmish were relatively similar to the foxes of earth, minus a few key differences such as tails. But well, checking the footprints did nothing, instead he looked at the skyline, or rather; at the billowing smoke. They most likely held some type of hint regarding his trial given it was fire themed.
Matt walked on slight alert, the place was deadly quiet, not a single soul around. Accompanied by his own breath he couldn’t help but feel mild anxiety, he had never been alone quite like this before. He nocked an arrow on his bow and looked around, eyes darting throughout the whole journey.
It took an indeterminate amount of time, it felt like a long while before he finally saw something. But it wasn’t what he was expecting, no— it was akin to a festival fire, piles of wood bunched into squares, but they had decayed with nothing but billowed smoke. Surely there had to be a hint?
And then, a growl entered his ears. With a small pause, Matt darted in the direction of the growl with the string of his bow already pulled. He saw a wolf, it was fully black and its eyes were akin to two shiny black holes, nothing but a reflective oily black.
[Wolfe.]
A wolf? Matt frowned given that there was no level for him to make sense of. The wolf growled at him and decidedly pounced, Matt fired his arrow decisively and the beast was hit mid air. It yelped in pain streaking through the space before dully landing on the ground as it slid off.
Matt frowned, It was a bit too easy no?
And then, the wolf on the ground growled, its body seemingly partly melted as the arrow landed on the ground. And once more, it looked at him with the same snarling expression, its eyes indifferent.
[Wolfe.]
No change?
Matt began to feel some uneasiness. Did he need to use his skills? His mana was almost empty though, and he already knew what happened when running out of it. He simply couldn’t have that. He waited for the wolf to pounce once more, it was slow and slightly methodic—linear even, easy to see, easy to predict. He knifed, plunged, stabbed the wolf but it would always get up. Matt felt no threat from it, but he felt a pang of uneasiness.
There was only a wolf. No matter where he looked, the only thing present was the wolf that had been attacking him for some time now, and its name was— well it remained the same no matter what he did.
[Wolfe.]
