Difference between revisions of "Blint Family/Vahanian"

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[[File: Vahanian.JPG| 550px|]]
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[[File:VB1.jpg|500px]] {{Quotation|<p>Middle Child of Kylar and Ilena, a natural born leader and man of great honor. He values oaths above all else and will hold true to them no matter what. Tempered and forged in the northern wildlands of Beluterra he's endured countless fights with Daimons and has even been captured and tortured by his sworn enemies.
  
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Once a husband and father, until they were ripped away from him by Daimon hordes he was a broken nomad for a long time. Until he was called upon to serve the Veiled Goddess of the Sacred Realm Obia'Syela. Currently he serves as Duke of Amen Keffa, Executor of the Templar Order, and a chief advisor to the throne of Obia'Syella.</p>|Vahanian}}
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<!-- {{Infobox CharData|4|7536}} -->
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==A Path Through Time==
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===The Early Years:===
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Vahanian Blint, brother to Leatho and Lillian. He began his career as a noble in Madina, but quickly joined the realm of Aurvandil. After proving himself a capable commander and natural leader he was appointed Duke of the Margrivate of Tower Fatmilak and named the Arbiter of Justice. He spent many years in these positions, but eventually, the weight of war and the combined forces of the enemies of Aurvandil led him to leave Dwilight in shame. He spent several years as a reaver, pirate, and mercenary until he met Katerina. He fell in love with her immediately and she with him.
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===Life in the North:===
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He gave up his ignoble ways for her and made a home for them in the North of Beluterra, among the people of Thalmarkin. He spent years with her, serving as a lord of the Wailing Woods and a protector of its people. During the 6th Daimon invasion of Beluterra, he took command of a large force of Thalmarkin soldiers. They proved to be extremely effective in combat, and with wills made of iron. In an attempt to destroy him, a Daimon Warband kidnapped Katerina, and Vahanian's firstborn daughter, Ellaria. Vahanian was soon captured as well, he spent weeks at the hands of the Daimons, as did his family. They did not survive imprisonment. When Vahanian escaped, he and 10 other Northmen hunted that Warband for months. Eventually finding it and Vahanian killed its leader in battle. After the invasion ended, Vahanian secluded himself from the world, sequestering himself away in the northern mountains of Thalmarkin.   
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===A New Oath:===
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Vahanian had been growing tired of the internal politics in Thalmarkin, he felt the ruling council had lost sight of the true vision and purpose of the Northernmost realm on Beluterra. When he heard his older brother and only living sibling, [[Blint Family/Leatho|Leatho]] had sworn himself and their family to House JeVondair, Vahanian was intrigued. He soon learned that there was a southern Queen, a [[JeVondair Family/Rania Eastersand|Rania Eastersand JeVondair]], whom had issued a call to arms for any nobles looking for a life to dedicate themselves to. With the loss of his family, and his waning patience for the politics of Thalmarkin, Vahanian answered the call. He was soon after tasked with Traveling to the Shattered Vales and establishing a foothold there alongside a man he'd never met. [[D'Espana Family/Kethan|Kethan D'Espana]]. At their first meeting the two men established a friendship that would persist through time and distance.
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===Baptism By Fire:===
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==Train The Sword, Sharpen The Mind==
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===Grief Devours Reason===
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{{Quotation|
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<b>Roleplay from Vahanian Blint
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Message sent to all nobles in Rines (9 recipients) - 15 days, 22 hours, 53 minutes ago</b>
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Vahanian waited on the sands of the arena. This particular arena was one that he'd ordered constructed during his time as steward and all the workers in this section were rather fond of him. They afforded him private use of their sands whenever he asked.
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Today Vahanian felt neutral. His emotions had been in flux since Stheno's death, most days he was submerged beneath the waves of grief and pain, but today he felt oddly in control. Perhaps the anticipation of friendly competition with an old friend was lifting his spirits. Vahanian saw a figure approach from the other side of the Arena, he recognized the outline as Kethan and then he began his pre-match ritual. He crouched down and picked up a handful of the sand from the arena and smelled it, breathing in the scent of the grains. He rubbed his hands together letting the sand fall between his palms and back to the ground, before clapping once and removing any excess sand.
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He stood, he was slightly taller than average at about 6 feet high, he wore a sleeveless, form fitting tunic. His arms were decorated with the tell tale signs of a swordsmen. Scattered white scars of mistakes and battles won and lost adorned his muscles. His hair was tied back in a loose braid with a black sateen ribbon. He wore dark trousers and leather boots. A weapon rack was off to the side that held an assortment of weaponry.
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Kethan approached and bowed his head to Vahanian. <i>"Good to see you, my friend."</i> Vahanian bowed his head and responded in kind. He gestured to the weapon rack and allowed Kethan to select his weapon first. Vahanian was a bit surprised that Kethan went for the short sword. Vahanian towered over his friend by nearly a foot, he had a greater reach and he hadn't been frail and close to death a few days ago.
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The thought of Kethan's recovery brought back a flood of emotions, Vahanian fought them with all his might. He fought the irrationality that crept into his brain. He hated the irrational, it had no place here, it only served to cause things to be unorganized and disorderly. Vahanian hated those things, but despite his best efforts he couldn't keep a thought from pervading his mind, he couldn't help but think that if not for Kethan, Stheno might still be alive. He walked over to the weapon rack and grabbed twin short swords. He wasn't in full control of himself and that only fueled his anger.
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The two friends squared off. With a practiced eye Vahanian read the battle on Kethan, he could smell it, taste it, hear it. Today it sung of cowardice. Today it tasted of neutrality. Today it smelled of caution. Today it looked like fear.
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The arbiter of the match called the start and Vahanian launched his attack. Baldwin watched in great anticipation. He loved watching his master fight. With short swords Vahanian usually started slow, but today was different. Baldwin was shocked at the aggressiveness of Vahanian's attacks. Kethan held his own, for a time. But the sheer force and onslaught of Vahanian's attacks were causing him to tire. There was a moment when it appeared as though Vahanian had overextended himself, and Kethan was surprisingly fast. He countered and slashed at Vahanian. The clang of steel was the first indicator of who was going to win.
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Kethan had chosen short swords because he thought speed would be his advantage. He clearly didn't know Vahanian's own personal affinity for short swords. They were, arguably, his favorite and best weapon, and it showed. Kethan and Vahanian locked blades for a brief moment, until Vahanian kicked Kethan square in the chest. Launching the man backwards. He recovered well, which spoke volumes to his experience as a soldier. But Vahanian was not deterred. He moved in while Kethan was still on his knees, and batted away his sword. Vahanian moved past Kethan and slashed downwards, harder than he'd meant to and cut deeper than he meant to. Kethan grunted and fell forward. The Arbiter called the match Vahanian's victory, but as soon as Vahanian saw the blood pooling on the sand, he felt like anything but a victor.
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The Arbiter rushed forward and Vahanian was still in the throws of his emotions. This time he was overcome with shame and dishonor. He leveled his blade at the Arbiter, the point just touching his throat and through gritted teeth said <i>"I will see to him."</i> The Arbiter swallowed, hands outstretched to show he meant no harm and backed away.
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<i>"Baldwin! The Healers!"</i> Vahanian barked. Baldwin nodded and hurried off. Vahanian knelt next to his unconscious friend and lowered his head. mumbling under his breath. He cut a strip of tunic off with a blade and wrapped it as tightly as he could around Kethan's torso, giving him a makeshift bandage. <i>"Forgive me, old friend. I'm not yet myself."</i> Vahanian whispered to Kethan.||}}
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{{Quotation|<b>Roleplay from Kethan D'Espana
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(Personal message to Vahanian Blint) - 10 days, 23 hours, 17 minutes ago</b>
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It was the day.
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When sunrise came, Kethan was already preparing himself. Today was the day he would be fighting Vahanian for the first time. The past few weeks since Stheno's death had been a roller coaster of emotions, ebbing and flowing between the downs of reflection and memories and the ups of excitement and challenges since he had been chosen Grand Inquisitor.
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Once he was ready, he took a deep breath and began walking towards the arena where Vahanian had suggested to meet. It was very early, but the streets of Rines were already alive with the movement of peasants, traders and artisans as they got ready to begin their work. He had no problem finding the fighting grounds, and he saw his old friend waiting for him when he entered the place.
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As he walked towards him, he saw Vahanian crouching and picking some sand, probably some sort of ritualistic preparation for the match. He waited for him to finish, and closed his eyes to mentally prepare as well. When he opened them, Vahanian was already standing up, and Kethan's anticipation for the fight began waning a little. Vahanian was much taller than him, at least a foot if not more, and the old man was considerably heavier and more robust as well. He knew that, of course, but he hadn't had to fight him before, and he could feel his nerves flaring up when considering the likely outcome of the match. It didn't help to know the reputation Vahanian had, a proficient master of the blade and probably much more skilled than he was after so many years without practicing.
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Kethan couldn't also avoid looking at Vahanian's arms, covered in the many scars of previous fights. He had his fair share of battle marks, most of them coming from Daimons during the last Invasion, but he had to admit that he felt intimidated. He had chosen a relatively tight tunic as well, dark green in color, for it was his favorite, as well as dark brown trousers and light leather boots, all properly fitted. Trying to regain control of his emotions, he bowed his head to Vahanian and greeted him, with Vahanian replying in kind. He then turned to the weapon rack and immediately went for a particularly light shortsword, which seemed to surprise Vahanian somewhat. Kethan had been considering it, and given the size difference and greater reach of his opponent, he had decided that speed would be his best asset on this match.
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He was also surprised when his friend picked dual shortswords, and he wondered what was in Vahanian's mind. It was a very unusual choice, and it required a lot of skill to properly pull through. However, he quickly lost that train of thought when he looked at Vahanian's eyes.
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Anger. There was anger in those eyes, and a promise for pain and a swift ending. If that was part of Vahanian's battle mask to intimidate his opponents even more, he could definitely feel it working. He shuffled his weight between his feet, feeling uncomfortable and not sure anymore about the battle. His fighting stance was a dead give away of his chosen tactic for the match, a very neutral and conservative style to simply know Vahanian through the duel. When the arbiter called the start, he barely reacted in time.
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Vahanian launched himself like a wounded lion, his strikes just as fast and powerful as Kethan had feared. He was sweating to simply hold his position, and did not dare to even attack for fear of missing a parry. That was why, when Vahanian overextended himself, he launched a punishment strike as fast as his muscles would allow him.
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But it wasn't fast enough. Kethan didn't know if Vahanian had tricked him or if his recovery had just been exceptionally swift, but there wasn't much else he could do now but watch. He watched, too slow and weak to react in time, as Vahanian's kick launched him backwards to the ground. He watched, still trying to get on his feet, as Vahanian batted away his sword. He watched, defenseless, as his friend moved past him and slashed downwards, cutting deep in a curve from behind his left shoulder all the way to the side of his lower ribs. With a grunt of pain, Kethan fell forward, darkness coming to welcome him as he embraced his unconsciousness.
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When he woke up, his wound bandaged and already under the care of the healers, Kethan could not help but wonder why Vahanian had behaved like that. Goosebumps came when he considered the possibility that it may have been intentional, and he felt the room spin around, covered in sweat, for the many nights it took his wound to become yet another scar.|}}
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=== Balance Returns===
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{{Quotation| <b>Roleplay from Vahanian Blint
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Message sent to everyone in Rines (12 recipients) - 21 days, 1 hour, 58 minutes ago</b>
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Vahanian still felt bad about the last time he'd met Kethan on the sands. He'd lost control, he'd been off balance, and emotional. He was still grieving, still in pain from the death of his ward, but he was much more in control. Much more reserved. He'd been spending a lot of time in the Arcane libraries beneath the temples. He'd been studying magic tirelessly for the last few weeks. Reading everything and anything he could. He shook his head. "Here and now." he muttered to himself. He took a breath. Began his pre-match ritual once more and waited. Kethan approached and looked nervous.
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"My friend." Vahanian said, bowing his head. It wasn't in his nature to apologize, but he sincerely hoped Kethan could understand how much Vahanian regretted wounding his friend. Kethan responded in greeting and Vahanian wondered what thoughts swam behind his friends nearly hazel eyes.
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Vahanian indicated to the weapon rack and Kethan walked over, selecting a Hand-and-a-half sword. Something with longer reach and better defensive capabilities. Vahanian raised an eyebrow, not really surprised by the choice, but intrigued. He himself walked over and picked up a Halberd, testing the weight and balance, he put it back, dissatisfied with something, Kethan could only guess at.
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Kethan's eyes narrowed and if Vahanian had any doubts that Kethan would fight defensively before, those doubts had now been crushed. He walked back and forth before the weapon rack, and finally selected a rapier and a buckler shield. Vahanian hated shields, but it'd been too long since he'd practiced with one.
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The Arbiter was about to call a start to the match when Vahanian raised a hand and said "First blood drawn on the torso, or first to yield." Kethan nodded his agreement to the win conditions and then the Arbiter rung the bell.
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Vahanian didn't move. he stood, sideways, facing Kethan, his rapier's point planted in the sand in front of him. A light breeze picked up and billowed out at the fringes of his tunic and trousers. Kethan likewise didn't move. Vahanian smiled, he wanted Kethan to attack, wanted to see how the man moved. He'd been too aggressive in their previous fight and wasn't able to get a measure of the man. Eventually, it became clear Kethan was nervous. Vahanian advanced slowly, defensively. Throwing out the occasional attack to get Kethan to respond. His parry's and counters were technically perfect. Gradually Vahanian picked up the speed as did Kethan. Eventually both men settled into a rhythm, Vahanian felt himself relax as the music of battle overtook his senses. This truly became a display of mastery from both men. Vahanian felt Kethan relax a little as well, he was still defensive and guarded, but he began to loosen as they fought.
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Kethan threw a strike at Vahanian and he caught it on the edge of his shield, the metal rim cracking and the sword burrowing into the wood. Vahanian threw his weight away from Kethan and disarmed him. He dislodged the sword from the shield and discarded the shield. Tossing the blade back to his friend, he grinned and settled into a low stance. They began again and the sound of steel clanging against steel echoed throughout the arena, several exchanges later and Vahanian had slipped inside Kethan's guard, he lightly raked his blade against Kethan's torso, just enough to draw blood, before spinning out and leveling his blade towards Kethan. He had judged the strike perfectly, it was as deep as he'd intended - which wasn't very deep. It would heal nicely, and probably wouldn't even scar. The Arbiter called the match in Vahanian's favor and he nodded to his friend. "Well fought, but you fight afraid, and that makes you stiff and slow. Next time." Vahanian said, it was a critique, but also a challenge. He was interested to see how Kethan would respond in their next bought. |Vahanian Blint}}
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{{Quotation| <b>Roleplay from Kethan D'Espana
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(Personal message to Vahanian Blint) - 17 days, 20 hours, 42 minutes ago</b>
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When Kethan woke up for the second match against Vahanian, he was very, very tempted to simply skip on his compromise, sending a courier with apologies and very believable excuses to the arena on his behalf. He was this close to doing so, but finally got up slowly and carefully, his left side and underside of the shoulder still tender and sore from the last encounter. He couldn't believe Vahanian had gone so hard on him, particularly so out of the blue. And those eyes...
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When he arrived to the arena, his pace was considerably slower than the first time. He had even arrived a few minutes late, and tried to greet his friend without showing his nervousness. It probably didn't work.
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When he saw Vahanian performing his ritual, he carefully studied the man. He seemed to be somewhat different to the last time, but he could not put a finger on what was it exactly that had changed. When both of them crossed their eyes, he thought he could see a hint of something familiar. Was it remorse? It certainly looked like it.
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Still, he didn't completely trust Vahanian as he motioned towards the weapon rack, and he knew what he was going to pick even before his hand closed around the handle of the hand-and-a-half sword. Speed was out of the question, he needed to defend himself from Vahanian's attack. He had considered a shield, but didn't dare to take the loss in visibility and reflexes that would imply. No, a defensive longsword would have to suffice, and he prayed to Obeah that it would be enough to stop Vahanian, at least for a little while.
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He watched uneasy as his friend picked different weapons, one of which he wasn't even familiar with. When he picked a halberd, Kethan's eyes narrowed, his mind working at full capacity to imagine all of the disastrous wounds Vahanian could cause him with the polearm. His friend finally settled on a rapier and a buckler shield, and Kethan sighed audibly at the final choice. The shield would make things even harder and the rapier could be a problem, but severe injuries were less likely with the light weapon.
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The Arbiter was about to call a start to the match when Vahanian raised a hand and said "First blood drawn on the torso, or first to yield." Kethan nodded his agreement to the win conditions and then the Arbiter rung the bell.
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Kethan waited for Vahanian to move. He needed to be ready for the blinding dash of fury and destruction, and he focused as much as he could while trying to resist the urge to retreat. The painful reminder of the last time made itself known in a burst of cold pain, and he could feel it affecting his balance and overall posture. He shifted his weight and realigned himself to cover his left side, the tip of the sword low, both hands on the handle, ready to lift it at a moment's notice.
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But Vahanian didn't move. A light breeze picked up, Vahanian's smile inviting him to attack and a clear sign that he was controlling himself this time, but the memories of the last humiliation and the wounds received were still far too fresh for Kethan to feel comfortable. Finally, Vahanian advanced slowly, defensively. Throwing out the occasional attack to get Kethan to respond, though he only managed to get very precise parrys and counters. Gradually Vahanian picked up the speed, as did Kethan. And then, before he knew it, they were fighting.
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It was not an equal fight, nor was it a long one, or a particularly memorable one from an objetive point of view. But, this time, they were fighting, Kethan exchanging timid blows and still extremely defensive, relaxing little by little as Vahanian allowed him to really feel the pace of the duel. He could feel it, he wanted to follow, yet still restrained himself in fear of aggravating his wound or receiving a new one. Still, he could feel himself relaxing, and he could also feel much of Vahanian's appreciation and non-verbal apology through the mutual language of the sword.
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(Part 1/2)
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But everything that begins has to end at some point. Kethan threw a strike at Vahanian and he caught it on the edge of his shield, the metal rim cracking and the sword burrowing into the wood. Vahanian threw his weight away from Kethan and disarmed him, and the smaller man quickly stepped back in anticipation of the punishment strike. However, Vahanian dislodged the sword from the shield and discarded the shield, tossing the blade back to his friend with a grin as he settled into a low stance. That was when Kethan knew for sure that his friend was back, and that whatever the demon was he had fought the other day, it was no more inside Vahanian. Cracking up in laughter as the tension within was released, they began again, and after several exchanges Vahanian had slipped inside Kethan's guard, lightly raking his blade against Kethan's torso just enough to draw blood. The strike was perfectly calculated, and it was a very superficial wound that barely even hurt.
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The Arbiter called the match in Vahanian's favor and he nodded to his friend.
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- "Well fought, but you fight afraid, and that makes you stiff and slow. Next time."
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It was a critique, but also a challenge. Kethan understood immediately the message, and felt greatly relieved after seeing the man he had known for so many years come to the surface again. So afraid, huh? Stiff and slow? That remained to be seen.
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- "Just your previous reminder over here preventing me to fight to my full potential, dear Vahanian." - he said, making a quick gesture to his left side. "I will travel shortly to Bym and later on to Brovyl, for both need of my office to hold court over those lordless lands. I will take that time to heal and reflect on what you have taught me. Once I am back, we will fight again. And then I shall show you how a D'Espana wields the sword!"
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He nodded back, and let out a small smile.
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- "Until then, take care, my friend. Glad to have you back."
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(Part 2/2)|Kethan D'Espana}}
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===Warrior's Dance===
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{{Quotation|<b> Roleplay from Vahanian Blint
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Message sent to all nobles of Obia'Syela (32 recipients) - 13 days, 3 hours, 41 minutes ago</b>
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(Part 1/2)<br>
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Vahanian hadn't returned to Rines for very long before hearing rumors about the health and well-being of the Oracle. Some say she'd taken a vow of silence, others say she hadn't recovered from the death of her daughter. Vahanian knew how impacted the Oracle was. He thought back and realized he hadn't seen her since that cursed night.
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He thought back to his preaching in the training pits of Grehk. It had helped him organize his thoughts. He then shifted his thoughts to Rania. She was his oldest friend, they had been through far too much together for him to be Okay with her condition. They had spent an insurmountable amount of time together. Counseling one another, planning, building, and creating. They had become very attuned to one anther's moods, habits, and reactions. Vahanian thought back to the Oracle's 60th birthday. The last time he'd felt truly happy. He'd always intended for that dance to be with her, but upon seeing Stheno's eyes light up at the idea, how could he have refused her? In truth, he'd hardly ever been able to refuse her anything. He thought again and realized, that a different kind of dance all-together would be far more fitting for he and Rania.
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He picked up a tightly wrapped parcel and made his way through the Basilica. Passing numerous Paladin checkpoints, none of which he was slowed at. They all knew him. They all knew his affection and dedication to the Oracle. As he reached the entrance to the Solarium he was finally stopped. He suppressed a small smile. He'd chosen these guards well. They knew him, and he knew them by name. He knew their families personally. Yet they respected the post enough to challenge everyone who sought entrance regardless of their station. They searched his parcel and raised an eyebrow at him, he smiled at them and winked. "Trust me." He breathed. They nodded, cautiously and one of them entered the Solarium with him.
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He crossed the threshold of the trapdoor and his breath caught in his throat. Rania was where he'd expected her to be. On her favored sofa by the glass doors that led to the balcony. The doors were open and a stiff breeze chilled the room. Rania was wearing an obsidian black gown with Obian blue trimming, clearly still in grieving. An opened tome lay in her lap, but the inscriptions remain un-read. Her eyes stared out at the horizon, a dead look on her face. "How long..?" Vahanian asked the Paladin. "Since the night.. hours each day, your grace." Vahanian nodded and Rania finally spoke, "I'm grieving, not dead. Don't speak as if I'm not here.." The Paladin shifted her weight and cleared her throat. Vahanian smiled. He knew her tone was not indicative of her feelings. He walked over to her, depositing his parcel on a table before reaching her. He crouched down in front of her and it took a moment for her eyes to flicker over to his. He grabbed her hand and her skin was cold, no doubt she'd been sitting in the breeze for some time. He searched for words, none that were adequate enough came to him. He looked away still searching. Rania gave his hand a gentle squeeze and he looked back at her. A sad smile that didn't reach her eyes formed on her face. More was conveyed in this look between friends than a thousand words could ever say. Finally Rania said "Vahanian.. I'm fine." Vahanian stood and said "I know, but you still owe me a dance." Vahanian wished he'd been able to see the look on her face, but he was already walking over to his parcel. She stood and was about to say "Vahanian.. I-" She stopped mid-sentence when he drew steel. The Paladin by the door, shifted again, gripping her weapon tighter. Rania recovered and said "I don't want -" Again she was cut-off this time by Vahanian tossing a blade to her. She caught it with practiced ease and he grinned. "Your words say no, but your instincts scream yes." His grin was both amusement and a challenge. In that brief moment he saw fire return to her eyes as she silently acquiesced.<br>
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(Part 2/2)<br>
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Vahanian spun the blade in his hands, not for show, but to loosen his wrists and arms. Rania likewise rolled her shoulders and neck. Vahanian had never seen Rania fight, let alone fought her himself, but he'd always wanted to, especially after hearing unconfirmed rumors, and whispers of her previous life as a warrior, coupled with how she talked about and understood military tactics. The faded white scars of a life of the sword decorated her hands and arms. Vahanian prided himself on being a quick, and accurate judge of martial skill, but here was a woman who was an anomaly to him - and not just in sword-skill. She always did the unexpected. He removed his cloak and tossed it over a chair. It was cold in the room, but he'd take that over restricted movement any day. Rania's eyes flicked down to his right forearm and his new tattoo. Vahanian crouched down to the floor. Though it was made of marble and adorned with rugs, he would not forgo his ritual. He traced the marble with his fingers and then rubbed his hands together, cupping them and then breathing deeply. He stood and opened his eyes. Looking at Rania, the man that had crouched and the man that had risen were different all together. Rania knew of Vahanian's martial skill well, and she'd even watched him fight on a few occasions, but seeing it from the stands and being face to face were two different beasts all together. To say she was afraid would be inaccurate, Rania trusted Vahanian implicitly and she knew he would never harm her. But in the back of her mind, she understood that the man who stood before her now was a level of dangerous that had been forged in the fires of a lifetime of warfare and combat.
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"You still have the option of backing down, old man." Rania purred at Vahanian. He grinned back at her and shook his head. "Not a chance."
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When the Paladin finally thumped the butt of her halberd on the ground to call a start to the match. Vahanian wasn't all together prepared for the aggressive nature of Rania's attacks. She launched herself at him with a ferocity and a precision he didn't think possible from someone who looked as frail and delicate as she did. After the first clang of steel on steel Vahanian settled into battle rhythm. Rania kept up her onslaught, strike after strike, was met with counter, parry, and riposte. Vahanian fought defensive at first, he had to. But soon realized this would not be won on defense. He pushed his aggression. There was a very brief lull in the duel and he heard the Paladin actually mutter "By the goddess.." The rest of the statement was lost amongst the sound of steel slashing steel. Vahanian and Rania moved around the Solarium, exchanging blows and counters in near perfect sync. Rania seemed to have the advantage for a long time, until it became clear that her lack of practice with the sword over the last several years would be her downfall. Vahanian saw an opportunity unfold, as he began to understand Rania's fighting style. She was devastatingly fast, and aggressive, and that, he could use. He let her drive him back a bit, and then when she swung at his head, he ducked under the strike, he saw surprise in her eyes as her blade didn't meet the resistance she had anticipated, he swept her legs from under her, sending her to the ground and as he rose he dashed past her and slashed downward, the tip of his blade just barely nicking her stomach. A thin line of blood welled, the cut was just deep enough to draw blood and wouldn't scar. A true testament to his control with a blade.
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The Paladin thumped her halberd again, claiming the match at an end. Rania looked up at Vahanian and playfully said "Do you think it wise, to put your Oracle on her ass?" Vahanian offered his hand and helped her up while saying "I do if it helps remind her that she still has something to live for, something to fight for." His tone was light and jovial, but his hazel eyes roared with sincerity. Rania just looked at him for a moment before saying "I must go and find a new gown, this one seems to have a rip in it." Vahanian bowed his head as she turned to leave. Just as she was about to cross the threshold of the trapdoor she turned back and said "Vahanian.. Thank you." He bowed his head to her once more as she left. He wrapped his blades and then stepped onto the balcony, looking out over the holy city.|Vahanian Blint}}
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<br>
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===Fight To Win===
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{{Quotation| <b>Roleplay from Vahanian Blint - 5 days, 6 hours, 14 minutes ago</b>
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<blockquote><i>Training Match
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(Personal message) - 3 days, 8 hours, 42 minutes ago
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Kethan D'Espana, Grand Inquisitor of Obia'Syela, Count of Melegra meets his challenger Vahanian Blint, Duke of Amen Telum, Margrave of Grehk, Priest of Heralds of Obeah for the agreed training match.
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Vahanian has decided to use the 'trick moves' strategy while Kethan has chosen the 'aggressive' strategy, giving Kethan the advantage.
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After a series of blows, Vahanian wins the training match.</i></blockquote>
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Vahanian stood on the sands of the arena awaiting his friend. He saw Kethan approach and he crouched and began his ritual. He could feel his friend waiting patiently and respectfully for him to finish. He could feel the curiosity in the air as Kethan no doubt studied Vahanian's ritual and wondered after it's purpose.
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Vahanian finished and rose to his full height, he nodded and smiled at his friend in greeting before gesturing towards the weapon rack. Kethan walked over and grabbed a short sword, satisfied with the weight and balance he took up his ready position. Vahanian walked over and knew his weapon before selecting it. It was a hand-and-a-half sword. He considered a shield, but decided against it.
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He removed his cloak and took up his ready position. Kethan's eyes immediately shot down to Vahanian's right arm, and the tattoo of a large wolf standing over a young panther protectively. Ever the inquisitor, he asked "My friend, if I may inquire as to the meaning and source of your tattoo..?" Vahanian's face went somber for a moment and then he said "Win, and I'll tell you." Kethan grinned and nodded, a look in his eye intrigued Vahanian. He filed it away for future analysis.
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The arbiter called the match a start and Kethan launched an aggressive attack against Vahanian. He grinned, "You've been training." Vahanian called out. Kethan continued his attacks, he was fast, much faster than Vahanian had expected. However, Vahanian quickly felt the battle rhythm, it was familiar. He realized it was a lot of technical strikes and techniques from the academy. "Mistake." he thought to himself. He grinned and decided to have a little fun with his friend. As Kethan launched into his forms, Vahanian called them out. "Ford's crossing. Twin Boulders. Dancing Blade?! Ah Heart's folly! Severed Branch. Annnnd there is Graceful Retreat!" He could see Kethan getting flustered. He danced around him and gradually began extending the distance, limiting the effectiveness of Kethan's speed and short sword.
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Vahanian began throwing a lot of feints and using tricks of the blade to confuse and irritate Kethan. Kethan rushed forward in a surge of adrenaline and speed, trying to catch Vahanian off-guard. Vahanian had waited and just as quickly, dropped and spun his leg around, sweeping Kethan's feet from under him. He bounced up and dashed over to his friend, and quickly cut a 'V' into his chest, just enough to draw blood, like the last time they fought the wound was superficial and wouldn't scar.
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Kethan's eyes were a mixture of adrenaline fueled anger and confusion. Vahanian grinned and offered a hand. "Fight's are rarely fair. You fight with too much honor. Your speed is good, but you're too technical, too predictable. The Swordmasters don't know everything. Use their teachings as a guide, but fight nimbly here." He pointed to Kethan's head and said "As well as here." and clasped his shoulder.
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Vahanian put his weapon away and again grew somber. "It's for her." he said, gesturing to his tattoo. "I got the scar protecting her and it only seemed fitting to dedicate it to her." Kethan nodded, his face clearly showing his humble appreciation and the love he too shared for Stheno. "She'd have loved it." Kethan said gently. Vahanian nodded and then cleared his throat and started to leave as he passed his friend he said "Stop using shortswords. You rely on the speed too much, it makes you predictable." |Vahanian Blint}}
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<br>
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{{Quotation| <b>Roleplay from Kethan D'Espana
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Message sent to everyone in Rines (10 recipients) - 4 days, 19 hours, 23 minutes ago</b>
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When Kethan arrived to the arena for the third match against his friend, he was feeling much better and far more relaxed than in any of the two previous encounters. Yes, he had lost in both of them, and yes, the first one had seen him receiving a deep wound that still mildly bothered him to this day, but this time he had actually properly prepared for the encounter and was looking forward to it. His friend was already there, and he began his ritual to prepare himself, as he had done all the previous times. Kethan did so as well, closing his eyes and breathing deeply to focus on the upcoming fight. He would have to ask Vahanian one of these days about the ritual and his meaning, but this was not the right time.
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Even before Vahanian gestured towards the weapon rack, Kethan already know what he would do. It would be a shortsword, fast and nimble like no other weapon in his hands. He still was convinced that speed was the key to defeat Vahanian. His friend had the size, the weight, the reach, the strenght and the experience, but he himself had trained for his entire life with speed as the key to ensure victory. Shorter than most, swift movements were his best weapons against usually larger opponents.
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Vahanian chose a hand-and-a-half sword, lethal in his hands, but Kethan would not let his friend intimidate him today. His muscles were still tender from all the training in the academy, and he was dying to put them to good use. Then, when Vahanian got ready to fight and he was about to begin the duel, he saw the tattoo on his right arm as he put his cloak aside. Was it... a wolf? And that was... a panther?
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A deep shiver crawled over his skin, all the way from the base of his neck to the toes of his feet. He asked about it immediately, but Vahanian challenged him to win in order to learn the answer. Something in his face told him that he already knew the answer. Shaking his head to shield himself from strange thoughts that began creeping on his mind, he filed it away for future analysis. Very well, he would win and force Vahanian to tell him.
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When the arbiter signaled for the beginning of the match, Kethan launched himself immediately on the offensive, putting to good use his recently learnt movements in a quite aggressive display of furious strikes. However, Vahanian was not caught by surprise. When the old devil started calling his moves, sometimes even before he himself had decided which one to use, he started to feel the pressure. This was not he had imagined the fight going, and he could already feel his stamina depleting after the very intense start of the fighting cadence. Vahanian was tiring him out, and doing so extremely effectively, with lots of parries, dodges and feints that consumed far less energy than Kethan was using with his deep thrusts and lightning-fast strikes.
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It was then that Vahanian started to put even more space between them, thus completely negating Kethan's attempts to attack through his staunch defense and superior reach, and using even more trick moves in an attempt to confuse and irritate him. But Kethan was not going to allow his friend get away from his defeat this time. Third time's the charm, and he was here to prove Vahanian that he was a good fighter himself. Waiting until the proper moment, Kethan sprung forward in an impressive surge of adreline and speed, that would have surely overpowered a less experienced opponent.
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But not Vahanian. Instead of parrying or dodging the savage combination of blows, which would have been a challenge even for him, he simply dropped and spun his leg around, thus dropping Kethan to the floor and promptly ending the fight with a quick "V" on Kethan's chest. The younger man felt the shock running through his brain, almost offended that Vahanian hadn't let him finish his maneuver. It was a fantastic combo he had just mastered not even a week ago! The instructor had fallen under his blows every single time he had tried it. How could Vahanian have done that? Such a low blow, such a filthy tactic for such an experienced swordsmaster as him...
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Kethan barely managed to listen to Vahanian's advice, blood still rushing through his veins in a deeply unsatisfied manner for the abrupt ending of the fight. Finally accepting Vahanian's hand, he got a look on his new tattoo again, and he felt the same deep shiver he had felt at the beginning of the fight. His anger suddenly forgotten, he listened to Vahanian's explanation, and nodded in the appreciation for the gesture to her beloved former pupil. He could feel a knot on his throat and a heavy weight in his heart, and simply stated that Stheno would have loved the tattoo. He did not feel ready to say anything else, nor was it needed.
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Vahanian nodded, and gave Kethan the last bit of advice of the day before passing him and walking away. Kethan followed him soon after. Next time. |Kethan D'Espana}}
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<br>
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==Exercise The Body, Strengthen The Spirit==
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<br>
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===Two Pillars, One Temple===
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{{Quotation|<b> Roleplay from Vahanian Blint
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Message sent to all nobles of Obia'Syela (32 recipients) - 11 days, 17 hours, 45 minutes ago</b>
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Vahanian stood in a training circle beneath the streets of Rines. The halls he walked today were that of the old Templar Nexus - still used by the members of the order located in Rines. He was working through some forms with a rapier when he noticed some hushed voices and poor attempts at subtlety from some younger members of the order. He ignored them at first, this was commonplace when he was training in a relatively open space. After the hush voices didn't dissipate, he tried shooting glances towards them that were intended to remind the younglings that they had chores to do.
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Several minutes later, Vahanian stopped mid-form. His sudden pause caused the reaction he'd hoped for. Silence. His audience was silent, curious as to why he stopped. He whirled around and bellowed at them. 'STAND FRONT AND CENTER. ALL OF YOU.' All but one hurried forward, most unsure what was happening, but too scared to disobey. Only one tried to slink away during the commotion. Vahanian pulled a knife from his belt and threw it, it embedded into the wood of the door next to the young Templar's hand. 'Front and center.' He said. The young Templar turned, his face white with fear, and hurried to join the line of young Templar.
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"Since all of you seem far more interested in watching me train than performing your duties or tending to your studies.. Perhaps your time is best learning something." Vahanian handed each of them a wooden stave and he himself held one as well. He stood before all 12 of them and gestured to a bell on the other side of the room, and said "Ring the bell before this hourglass fills and you all get to skip tomorrow's chores and lessons. Don't ring the bell in time and.... well let's keep that a surprise." Vahanian flipped the hour glass and spun to face the 12 Templar. They surged forward each eager on being the one to ring the bell. Some tried to run right by them, they met the stone floor with great speed and about as much grace as one might expect. With 3 Templar down, he had only 9 to go. 2 of them hadn't moved, still shocked and probably scared, the other 7 were surging towards Vahanian intent on barreling through him. He grinned and danced among them like wind through reeds, in mere moments they were moaning on the ground or tangled among each other egos bruised more than their bodies. He turned to the final two and simply walked over to them, and said "Boo!" they dropped their staves right away.
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He chuckled and ordered everyone to their feet. Pointed to three and said 'Attack.' They rushed at him one at a time, foolishly, and he swatted away their attacks and provided them with bruises or headaches as reminders all the while lecturing to the others. "Fight with your mind, not your heart. Dying in battle wont grant you any more glory than dying in the arms of a lover. Dying stupidly is a waste of life, and we do not waste lives. We are Obeah's chosen warriors." He made an emphasis on his words with swings of his stave against the young Templar. He pointed to three more and said "Attack." They did so. "We operate in the light, Inquisitors do not. We are the shields that guard the faithful. We are the swords that defend the faith. We are the spears that pierce the hearts of Obeah's enemies. We are the front line, We are the back line, We are the only line." He pointed to three more and said "Attack." They also, did as commanded. "We are guardians and warriors, we are sentinels and soldiers, we are priests and nobles, we are the faithful, but we are not stupid or wasteful. Never go for the flashy kill, never give the enemy an advantage. Don't assume an enemy is dead until they are. Never wait for the perfect strike on an enemy when 5, or 10, or 20, or 100 will kill him just as effectively, and far more quickly." He pointed the final 3 and said "Attack." They did. "We are the flame that fights back the darkness. We are strong when others are weak. We defend the journey of the faithful. We are Templar, and we will kill all who stand in our way."
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He ended his final statement by sweeping the legs of the only Templar who was still standing. He pinned the boy down with his stave and then released his grip, allowing the boy to move.
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"Templars start again at dawn.... Others do not." Vahanian called, before returning to his private chambers in the Nexus.|Vahanian Blint}}
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==Ecstasy In Grehk==
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<br>
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{{Quotation|<i>You carefully work the ritual inscribed on your scroll of Ecstasy.
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You carefully perform the ritual described on the scroll, and when it finishes, you wait expectantly for something to happen. Nothing seems to. Disappointed, you clean up the area where you performed the ritual and start to head home, when you pass a comely peasant, and feel a sudden stirring of lust. By the time you have made it back, you have seen—and heard—many unmistakable signs that the scroll is working.
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Population Boom in Grehk just in Your seneschal brings you word of an inexplicable population boom in Grehk. 689 babies have apparently been born recently.</i>|Ecstasy Spell Casting}}
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{{Quotation|<b>Roleplay from Vahanian Blint
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Message sent to all nobles of Obia'Syela (36 recipients) - just in</b>
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Vahanian could feel the magic emanating from the scroll case he carried. It made his arm, and tattoo tingle. He walked through the halls of the White Citadel until he came to the stair that led to the rooftop gardens. He wound his way through the carefully tended paths and found the outcrop of the garden where he'd tried spell-casting once before. He was entirely alone, save for his chief advisor, Baldwin, who stood back and said nothing. He was a little more familiar with the process this time around, having witnessed the Oracle handle more magic than he though possible and still demand more.
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He lit the braziers with the torch, discarding it in the fourth brazier and readied himself. He removed his thick cloak and placed the scroll case in front of him. He studied it, mentally picking it up and examining it in his mind. He wanted to do this right, the people of Grehk needed this. He remembered Rania starting to sing, and he remembered her voice guided his own to the right resonance. He tried that again, only it didn't feel right, didn't feel the same. He was about to proceed anyway when something deep within his mind stopped him. He needed to focus.  He drew his sword and sat down, taking a whetstone and running it along the blade in a careful and methodical manner. The sound of the stone on the steel was oddly calming to him, the sound it made resonated with him, he began to try to match the tone with his own humming. When he felt he was hitting the right resonance with both whetstone and humming he closed his eyes, and reached out with his mind, his will, and his spirit. He could feel himself reach out towards the scroll, and was suddenly thrown about in the tumultuous storm of sounds and resonances, it was too much, to messy. He couldn't find the order to it. He relaxed, and let go. Retreating, in his mind, back to the whetstone and his humming.
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He just relaxed, waiting, for the right resonance to come. He decided to take the scroll from it's case, but not unfurl it just yet. Looking at the magic infused parchment he was filled with memories, emotions, and pain. It made him think of Stheno. His heartbeat quickened and he could feel his face redden with anger and sadness. He didn't fight the emotion. He let it in, but slowly, methodically, and carefully. In his mind, he placed each emotion in his place. The ferocity of his anger, the pain of his sadness, the rawness of his regret.
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He gripped the hilt of his sword tighter until his knuckles went white, and he hummed. Then it hit him all at once, the power of the magic swarmed to his call, but not as sound. As color. He saw the hues of red, and pink, and orange, and undertones of blue. He stood and grabbed the scroll with his left hand and holding onto his sword with his right. He began reciting the enchantment, each word sparked a different color in his mind, Orange, pink, red, blue, red, red, red, pink, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, orange, pink, pink, orange, orange, blue, blue and finally. White.
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He pierced the scroll with his blade as he recited the last enchantment and it burst into flames. He slammed it to the stones he stood upon and held it there. Concentrating on the emotions and the colors that flooded his mind. Willing them into and through his body. His tattoo burned, his vision went white as he became the focal point for the magic that swirled around him. He released that energy directing out and up and over his beloved city, he choked out a sob as the last of the energy released from his body and he gasped for air. The scroll sputtered out, charred and expended, and Vahanian was filled with a sense of failure. He grew weary, and felt totally drained. He needed food, and he needed sleep. As he stood, sheathed his sword and started the trek back to his chambers, he wandered through the halls of the White Citadel. He needed to think before he rested.
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As he walked through the halls of the citadel, he started to feel at peace. It was subtle. He relaxed a bit more, and turned a corner he very clearly got the smell of lilies and lavender. It reminded him of Katerina. He kept wandering through the halls and as he turned back towards his chambers, he caught sight of her standing in the doorway, beckoning him to join him in their chambers. He felt his heart skip a beat, as he saw her in all her beauty. The curls of her black hair, the shinning emerald green eyes that made him feel totally vulnerable and totally safe at the same time. The sweet, pure innocent joy in her laugh, and the nearly blinding brilliance and infectiousness of her smile. He was filled with so much love, so much desire, and so much longing for her.
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She faded from view and he turned around looking for her not ready for her to leave. He turned back towards his chamber doors, but she was gone. He was faced with just the sturdy oak door and the joys of his memories of her.|Vahanian Blint}}
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==Keffa's Ritual==
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<br>
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{{Quotation|<b>Roleplay from Vahanian Blint
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Message sent to everyone in Keffa (96 recipients)</b>
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<i><u>The Square</u></i>
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Vahanian looked across the square at those assembled, they'd been standing around for what felt like days. The crowd was growing ever larger as more people filed into his city. Vahanian reached his limit. He'd had enough waiting. "To hell with this." He muttered and he dismounted from his horse and shouldered his way through the line of Obian soldiers. "Oh Son of a bit-" the swear of Baldwin, Vahanian's captain of the guard, was drowned out by the thudding in Vahanian's ears. He muscled his way into the center of the square. His soldiers streaming after him, both equally excited at the prospect of combat, and worried that Vahanian was about to do something horrendously reckless and dangerous. Vahanian headed directly towards the group of Vordul soldiers guarding the ritual.
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"Move aside." Vahanian said, his voice dripping with a calm fury and controlled lethality. As he approached threshold of Vordul blood magic, his arm seared in pain. It felt like he was reaching into the depths of hell's core and trying to return unscathed. No physical representation of the burning pain was on his arm, but in his head, it felt like he'd just been thrown into lava.
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Vahanian glowered at the force rallied against him as he saw and then proceed to call upon the one he once called ally. The defiler. "You'll do." he said, the challenge in his voice clear.  He spit in front of the Vordul forces and declared: "Godfrey Greybrook! You're a disgrace to the Greybrook name. Ferdinand was twice the man you could ever dream of being. You're a cancerous filth that needs to be purged from this world."
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Godfrey rushed stepped foreward, placing himself directly in Vahanian's path and between the duke and Poli, his eyes darting between the approaching Vahanian and the edge of the circle, clearly wondering what effect an interruption could have on the ritual. He gripped his ritual dagger tightly and stepped forward barring entry to the ritual circle and placing himself between Vahanian and Poli. Vahanian snorted as he paced back and forth across from the priest.
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Hatred of his own, poured from Godfrey's body language. The animosity in the air was almost as palpable as the magic that fluttered around the square. He accepted the challenge.
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For someone of his age, Vahanian moved with surprising speed and agility. He launched forward, like a panther pouncing on it's prey, and struck with the ferocity of a wolf bringing down a kill. Godfrey brought his dagger up just in time to prevent himself from being decapitated. Vahanian was relentless in his attacks, toying with Godfrey, striking hard and fast, but drawing out the panic in his opponent. He seemed to relish the fear in Godfrey's eyes. The fear and realization that he might not live to see this ritual complete. That his work thus far would be for naught. To the priest's credit, he held his ground. He defended as best he could, clearly having had some training with the sword, but his technique was lacking. The life of a priest often led to a lackluster skill with the sword.
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(1/2)|Vahanian Blint}}
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{{Quotation|<b>Roleplay from Vahanian Blint Player
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Message sent to everyone in Keffa (96 recipients) - 7 days, 17 hours, 19 minutes ago</b>
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<u><i>The Square</i></u>
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All things must end, and so to did the brief bout. Vahanian parried inside of Godfrey's excuse for a guard, he battered the dagger out of Godfrey's grasp, sending it skittering across the square towards the ritual circle. Vahanian slammed the pommel of his sword into Godfrey's temple, dazing him as he grabbed the lapel of his robes and swept his feet from under him. Landing with his knee on the priest's chest and his blade pressed against Godfrey's throat, he looked into the eyes of a heathen with pure, unadulterated hatred
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With an almost euphoria in his eyes, Godfrey began leaning into to sword, teasing the blade to cut the skin on his, almost begging through gasps "Do it old man… Kill me… Do my cousin proud… Everything you have loved has died… All for your bitch Obeah… Do it!"
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Vahanian was just about to end the priest's life when he heard Kethan's voice calmly say "Vahanian.. don't. It's a blood ritual." Vahanian looked over and saw the Inquisitor, one of his oldest friends, standing there, looking as if he'd spent the last 6 weeks constantly awake, with his face burried in tomes. He was passively watching the events with a scholar's eye. Vahanian stayed his blade, but gave the opportunity for Godfrey to react. As he got up suddenly, Godfrey pressed his ear against the sharp weapon and like an animal saw his ear removed from his head in an attempt to escape.
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Reacting instantly on instinct and to the horror, Vahanian grabbed Godfrey by the throat, squeezing, he pressed Godfrey's head into the stone street and stared down at the priest with utter hatred before he whispered. "I'll be seeing you again." He stood, and released Godfrey in one swift motion, wathcing Godfrey as he scampered off to collect the remnants of his ear as blood poured unto the stone below. Vahanian, sheathing his sword and returning to his horse, muttered to Kethan. "This needs to end."
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(2/2)|Vahanian Blint}}
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[[File: Vahanian.JPG|550px]]
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<!-- {{Infobox CharData|4|7536}} -->
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<br>
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==A Path Through Time==
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===The Early Years:===
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Vahanian Blint, brother to Leatho and Lillian. He began his career as a noble in Madina, but quickly joined the realm of Aurvandil. After proving himself a capable commander and natural leader he was appointed Duke of the Margrivate of Tower Fatmilak and named the Arbiter of Justice. He spent many years in these positions, but eventually, the weight of war and the combined forces of the enemies of Aurvandil led him to leave Dwilight in shame. He spent several years as a reaver, pirate, and mercenary until he met Katerina. He fell in love with her immediately and she with him.
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<br>
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===Life in the North:===
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He gave up his ignoble ways for her and made a home for them in the North of Beluterra, among the people of Thalmarkin. He spent years with her, serving as a lord of the Wailing Woods and a protector of its people. During the 6th Daimon invasion of Beluterra, he took command of a large force of Thalmarkin soldiers. They proved to be extremely effective in combat, and with wills made of iron. In an attempt to destroy him, a Daimon Warband kidnapped Katerina, and Vahanian's firstborn daughter, Ellaria. Vahanian was soon captured as well, he spent weeks at the hands of the Daimons, as did his family. They did not survive imprisonment. When Vahanian escaped, he and 10 other Northmen hunted that Warband for months. Eventually finding it and Vahanian killed its leader in battle. After the invasion ended, Vahanian secluded himself from the world, sequestering himself away in the northern mountains of Thalmarkin.   
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<br>
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===A New Oath:===
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Vahanian had been growing tired of the internal politics in Thalmarkin, he felt the ruling council had lost sight of the true vision and purpose of the Northernmost realm on Beluterra. When he heard his older brother and only living sibling, [[Blint Family/Leatho|Leatho]] had sworn himself and their family to House JeVondair, Vahanian was intrigued. He soon learned that there was a southern Queen, a [[JeVondair Family/Rania Eastersand|Rania Eastersand JeVondair]], whom had issued a call to arms for any nobles looking for a life to dedicate themselves to. With the loss of his family, and his waning patience for the politics of Thalmarkin, Vahanian answered the call. He was soon after tasked with Traveling to the Shattered Vales and establishing a foothold there alongside a man he'd never met. [[D'Espana Family/Kethan|Kethan D'Espana]]. At their first meeting the two men established a friendship that would persist through time and distance.
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<br>
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===Baptism By Fire:===
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==Train The Sword, Sharpen The Mind==
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<br>
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===Grief Devours Reason===
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{{Quotation|
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<b>Roleplay from Vahanian Blint
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Message sent to all nobles in Rines (9 recipients) - 15 days, 22 hours, 53 minutes ago</b>
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Vahanian waited on the sands of the arena. This particular arena was one that he'd ordered constructed during his time as steward and all the workers in this section were rather fond of him. They afforded him private use of their sands whenever he asked.
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Today Vahanian felt neutral. His emotions had been in flux since Stheno's death, most days he was submerged beneath the waves of grief and pain, but today he felt oddly in control. Perhaps the anticipation of friendly competition with an old friend was lifting his spirits. Vahanian saw a figure approach from the other side of the Arena, he recognized the outline as Kethan and then he began his pre-match ritual. He crouched down and picked up a handful of the sand from the arena and smelled it, breathing in the scent of the grains. He rubbed his hands together letting the sand fall between his palms and back to the ground, before clapping once and removing any excess sand.
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He stood, he was slightly taller than average at about 6 feet high, he wore a sleeveless, form fitting tunic. His arms were decorated with the tell tale signs of a swordsmen. Scattered white scars of mistakes and battles won and lost adorned his muscles. His hair was tied back in a loose braid with a black sateen ribbon. He wore dark trousers and leather boots. A weapon rack was off to the side that held an assortment of weaponry.
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Kethan approached and bowed his head to Vahanian. <i>"Good to see you, my friend."</i> Vahanian bowed his head and responded in kind. He gestured to the weapon rack and allowed Kethan to select his weapon first. Vahanian was a bit surprised that Kethan went for the short sword. Vahanian towered over his friend by nearly a foot, he had a greater reach and he hadn't been frail and close to death a few days ago.
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The thought of Kethan's recovery brought back a flood of emotions, Vahanian fought them with all his might. He fought the irrationality that crept into his brain. He hated the irrational, it had no place here, it only served to cause things to be unorganized and disorderly. Vahanian hated those things, but despite his best efforts he couldn't keep a thought from pervading his mind, he couldn't help but think that if not for Kethan, Stheno might still be alive. He walked over to the weapon rack and grabbed twin short swords. He wasn't in full control of himself and that only fueled his anger.
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The two friends squared off. With a practiced eye Vahanian read the battle on Kethan, he could smell it, taste it, hear it. Today it sung of cowardice. Today it tasted of neutrality. Today it smelled of caution. Today it looked like fear.
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The arbiter of the match called the start and Vahanian launched his attack. Baldwin watched in great anticipation. He loved watching his master fight. With short swords Vahanian usually started slow, but today was different. Baldwin was shocked at the aggressiveness of Vahanian's attacks. Kethan held his own, for a time. But the sheer force and onslaught of Vahanian's attacks were causing him to tire. There was a moment when it appeared as though Vahanian had overextended himself, and Kethan was surprisingly fast. He countered and slashed at Vahanian. The clang of steel was the first indicator of who was going to win.
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Kethan had chosen short swords because he thought speed would be his advantage. He clearly didn't know Vahanian's own personal affinity for short swords. They were, arguably, his favorite and best weapon, and it showed. Kethan and Vahanian locked blades for a brief moment, until Vahanian kicked Kethan square in the chest. Launching the man backwards. He recovered well, which spoke volumes to his experience as a soldier. But Vahanian was not deterred. He moved in while Kethan was still on his knees, and batted away his sword. Vahanian moved past Kethan and slashed downwards, harder than he'd meant to and cut deeper than he meant to. Kethan grunted and fell forward. The Arbiter called the match Vahanian's victory, but as soon as Vahanian saw the blood pooling on the sand, he felt like anything but a victor.
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The Arbiter rushed forward and Vahanian was still in the throws of his emotions. This time he was overcome with shame and dishonor. He leveled his blade at the Arbiter, the point just touching his throat and through gritted teeth said <i>"I will see to him."</i> The Arbiter swallowed, hands outstretched to show he meant no harm and backed away.
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<i>"Baldwin! The Healers!"</i> Vahanian barked. Baldwin nodded and hurried off. Vahanian knelt next to his unconscious friend and lowered his head. mumbling under his breath. He cut a strip of tunic off with a blade and wrapped it as tightly as he could around Kethan's torso, giving him a makeshift bandage. <i>"Forgive me, old friend. I'm not yet myself."</i> Vahanian whispered to Kethan.||}}
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<br>
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{{Quotation|<b>Roleplay from Kethan D'Espana
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(Personal message to Vahanian Blint) - 10 days, 23 hours, 17 minutes ago</b>
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It was the day.
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When sunrise came, Kethan was already preparing himself. Today was the day he would be fighting Vahanian for the first time. The past few weeks since Stheno's death had been a roller coaster of emotions, ebbing and flowing between the downs of reflection and memories and the ups of excitement and challenges since he had been chosen Grand Inquisitor.
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Once he was ready, he took a deep breath and began walking towards the arena where Vahanian had suggested to meet. It was very early, but the streets of Rines were already alive with the movement of peasants, traders and artisans as they got ready to begin their work. He had no problem finding the fighting grounds, and he saw his old friend waiting for him when he entered the place.
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As he walked towards him, he saw Vahanian crouching and picking some sand, probably some sort of ritualistic preparation for the match. He waited for him to finish, and closed his eyes to mentally prepare as well. When he opened them, Vahanian was already standing up, and Kethan's anticipation for the fight began waning a little. Vahanian was much taller than him, at least a foot if not more, and the old man was considerably heavier and more robust as well. He knew that, of course, but he hadn't had to fight him before, and he could feel his nerves flaring up when considering the likely outcome of the match. It didn't help to know the reputation Vahanian had, a proficient master of the blade and probably much more skilled than he was after so many years without practicing.
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Kethan couldn't also avoid looking at Vahanian's arms, covered in the many scars of previous fights. He had his fair share of battle marks, most of them coming from Daimons during the last Invasion, but he had to admit that he felt intimidated. He had chosen a relatively tight tunic as well, dark green in color, for it was his favorite, as well as dark brown trousers and light leather boots, all properly fitted. Trying to regain control of his emotions, he bowed his head to Vahanian and greeted him, with Vahanian replying in kind. He then turned to the weapon rack and immediately went for a particularly light shortsword, which seemed to surprise Vahanian somewhat. Kethan had been considering it, and given the size difference and greater reach of his opponent, he had decided that speed would be his best asset on this match.
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He was also surprised when his friend picked dual shortswords, and he wondered what was in Vahanian's mind. It was a very unusual choice, and it required a lot of skill to properly pull through. However, he quickly lost that train of thought when he looked at Vahanian's eyes.
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Anger. There was anger in those eyes, and a promise for pain and a swift ending. If that was part of Vahanian's battle mask to intimidate his opponents even more, he could definitely feel it working. He shuffled his weight between his feet, feeling uncomfortable and not sure anymore about the battle. His fighting stance was a dead give away of his chosen tactic for the match, a very neutral and conservative style to simply know Vahanian through the duel. When the arbiter called the start, he barely reacted in time.
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Vahanian launched himself like a wounded lion, his strikes just as fast and powerful as Kethan had feared. He was sweating to simply hold his position, and did not dare to even attack for fear of missing a parry. That was why, when Vahanian overextended himself, he launched a punishment strike as fast as his muscles would allow him.
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But it wasn't fast enough. Kethan didn't know if Vahanian had tricked him or if his recovery had just been exceptionally swift, but there wasn't much else he could do now but watch. He watched, too slow and weak to react in time, as Vahanian's kick launched him backwards to the ground. He watched, still trying to get on his feet, as Vahanian batted away his sword. He watched, defenseless, as his friend moved past him and slashed downwards, cutting deep in a curve from behind his left shoulder all the way to the side of his lower ribs. With a grunt of pain, Kethan fell forward, darkness coming to welcome him as he embraced his unconsciousness.
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When he woke up, his wound bandaged and already under the care of the healers, Kethan could not help but wonder why Vahanian had behaved like that. Goosebumps came when he considered the possibility that it may have been intentional, and he felt the room spin around, covered in sweat, for the many nights it took his wound to become yet another scar.|}}
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<br>
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=== Balance Returns===
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{{Quotation| <b>Roleplay from Vahanian Blint
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Message sent to everyone in Rines (12 recipients) - 21 days, 1 hour, 58 minutes ago</b>
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Vahanian still felt bad about the last time he'd met Kethan on the sands. He'd lost control, he'd been off balance, and emotional. He was still grieving, still in pain from the death of his ward, but he was much more in control. Much more reserved. He'd been spending a lot of time in the Arcane libraries beneath the temples. He'd been studying magic tirelessly for the last few weeks. Reading everything and anything he could. He shook his head. "Here and now." he muttered to himself. He took a breath. Began his pre-match ritual once more and waited. Kethan approached and looked nervous.
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 +
"My friend." Vahanian said, bowing his head. It wasn't in his nature to apologize, but he sincerely hoped Kethan could understand how much Vahanian regretted wounding his friend. Kethan responded in greeting and Vahanian wondered what thoughts swam behind his friends nearly hazel eyes.
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Vahanian indicated to the weapon rack and Kethan walked over, selecting a Hand-and-a-half sword. Something with longer reach and better defensive capabilities. Vahanian raised an eyebrow, not really surprised by the choice, but intrigued. He himself walked over and picked up a Halberd, testing the weight and balance, he put it back, dissatisfied with something, Kethan could only guess at.
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 +
Kethan's eyes narrowed and if Vahanian had any doubts that Kethan would fight defensively before, those doubts had now been crushed. He walked back and forth before the weapon rack, and finally selected a rapier and a buckler shield. Vahanian hated shields, but it'd been too long since he'd practiced with one.
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 +
The Arbiter was about to call a start to the match when Vahanian raised a hand and said "First blood drawn on the torso, or first to yield." Kethan nodded his agreement to the win conditions and then the Arbiter rung the bell.
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Vahanian didn't move. he stood, sideways, facing Kethan, his rapier's point planted in the sand in front of him. A light breeze picked up and billowed out at the fringes of his tunic and trousers. Kethan likewise didn't move. Vahanian smiled, he wanted Kethan to attack, wanted to see how the man moved. He'd been too aggressive in their previous fight and wasn't able to get a measure of the man. Eventually, it became clear Kethan was nervous. Vahanian advanced slowly, defensively. Throwing out the occasional attack to get Kethan to respond. His parry's and counters were technically perfect. Gradually Vahanian picked up the speed as did Kethan. Eventually both men settled into a rhythm, Vahanian felt himself relax as the music of battle overtook his senses. This truly became a display of mastery from both men. Vahanian felt Kethan relax a little as well, he was still defensive and guarded, but he began to loosen as they fought.
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Kethan threw a strike at Vahanian and he caught it on the edge of his shield, the metal rim cracking and the sword burrowing into the wood. Vahanian threw his weight away from Kethan and disarmed him. He dislodged the sword from the shield and discarded the shield. Tossing the blade back to his friend, he grinned and settled into a low stance. They began again and the sound of steel clanging against steel echoed throughout the arena, several exchanges later and Vahanian had slipped inside Kethan's guard, he lightly raked his blade against Kethan's torso, just enough to draw blood, before spinning out and leveling his blade towards Kethan. He had judged the strike perfectly, it was as deep as he'd intended - which wasn't very deep. It would heal nicely, and probably wouldn't even scar. The Arbiter called the match in Vahanian's favor and he nodded to his friend. "Well fought, but you fight afraid, and that makes you stiff and slow. Next time." Vahanian said, it was a critique, but also a challenge. He was interested to see how Kethan would respond in their next bought. |Vahanian Blint}}
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<br>
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{{Quotation| <b>Roleplay from Kethan D'Espana
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(Personal message to Vahanian Blint) - 17 days, 20 hours, 42 minutes ago</b>
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When Kethan woke up for the second match against Vahanian, he was very, very tempted to simply skip on his compromise, sending a courier with apologies and very believable excuses to the arena on his behalf. He was this close to doing so, but finally got up slowly and carefully, his left side and underside of the shoulder still tender and sore from the last encounter. He couldn't believe Vahanian had gone so hard on him, particularly so out of the blue. And those eyes...
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When he arrived to the arena, his pace was considerably slower than the first time. He had even arrived a few minutes late, and tried to greet his friend without showing his nervousness. It probably didn't work.
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When he saw Vahanian performing his ritual, he carefully studied the man. He seemed to be somewhat different to the last time, but he could not put a finger on what was it exactly that had changed. When both of them crossed their eyes, he thought he could see a hint of something familiar. Was it remorse? It certainly looked like it.
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Still, he didn't completely trust Vahanian as he motioned towards the weapon rack, and he knew what he was going to pick even before his hand closed around the handle of the hand-and-a-half sword. Speed was out of the question, he needed to defend himself from Vahanian's attack. He had considered a shield, but didn't dare to take the loss in visibility and reflexes that would imply. No, a defensive longsword would have to suffice, and he prayed to Obeah that it would be enough to stop Vahanian, at least for a little while.
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He watched uneasy as his friend picked different weapons, one of which he wasn't even familiar with. When he picked a halberd, Kethan's eyes narrowed, his mind working at full capacity to imagine all of the disastrous wounds Vahanian could cause him with the polearm. His friend finally settled on a rapier and a buckler shield, and Kethan sighed audibly at the final choice. The shield would make things even harder and the rapier could be a problem, but severe injuries were less likely with the light weapon.
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The Arbiter was about to call a start to the match when Vahanian raised a hand and said "First blood drawn on the torso, or first to yield." Kethan nodded his agreement to the win conditions and then the Arbiter rung the bell.
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Kethan waited for Vahanian to move. He needed to be ready for the blinding dash of fury and destruction, and he focused as much as he could while trying to resist the urge to retreat. The painful reminder of the last time made itself known in a burst of cold pain, and he could feel it affecting his balance and overall posture. He shifted his weight and realigned himself to cover his left side, the tip of the sword low, both hands on the handle, ready to lift it at a moment's notice.
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But Vahanian didn't move. A light breeze picked up, Vahanian's smile inviting him to attack and a clear sign that he was controlling himself this time, but the memories of the last humiliation and the wounds received were still far too fresh for Kethan to feel comfortable. Finally, Vahanian advanced slowly, defensively. Throwing out the occasional attack to get Kethan to respond, though he only managed to get very precise parrys and counters. Gradually Vahanian picked up the speed, as did Kethan. And then, before he knew it, they were fighting.
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It was not an equal fight, nor was it a long one, or a particularly memorable one from an objetive point of view. But, this time, they were fighting, Kethan exchanging timid blows and still extremely defensive, relaxing little by little as Vahanian allowed him to really feel the pace of the duel. He could feel it, he wanted to follow, yet still restrained himself in fear of aggravating his wound or receiving a new one. Still, he could feel himself relaxing, and he could also feel much of Vahanian's appreciation and non-verbal apology through the mutual language of the sword.
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(Part 1/2)
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But everything that begins has to end at some point. Kethan threw a strike at Vahanian and he caught it on the edge of his shield, the metal rim cracking and the sword burrowing into the wood. Vahanian threw his weight away from Kethan and disarmed him, and the smaller man quickly stepped back in anticipation of the punishment strike. However, Vahanian dislodged the sword from the shield and discarded the shield, tossing the blade back to his friend with a grin as he settled into a low stance. That was when Kethan knew for sure that his friend was back, and that whatever the demon was he had fought the other day, it was no more inside Vahanian. Cracking up in laughter as the tension within was released, they began again, and after several exchanges Vahanian had slipped inside Kethan's guard, lightly raking his blade against Kethan's torso just enough to draw blood. The strike was perfectly calculated, and it was a very superficial wound that barely even hurt.
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The Arbiter called the match in Vahanian's favor and he nodded to his friend.
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- "Well fought, but you fight afraid, and that makes you stiff and slow. Next time."
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It was a critique, but also a challenge. Kethan understood immediately the message, and felt greatly relieved after seeing the man he had known for so many years come to the surface again. So afraid, huh? Stiff and slow? That remained to be seen.
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- "Just your previous reminder over here preventing me to fight to my full potential, dear Vahanian." - he said, making a quick gesture to his left side. "I will travel shortly to Bym and later on to Brovyl, for both need of my office to hold court over those lordless lands. I will take that time to heal and reflect on what you have taught me. Once I am back, we will fight again. And then I shall show you how a D'Espana wields the sword!"
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He nodded back, and let out a small smile.
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- "Until then, take care, my friend. Glad to have you back."
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(Part 2/2)|Kethan D'Espana}}
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<br>
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===Warrior's Dance===
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{{Quotation|<b> Roleplay from Vahanian Blint
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Message sent to all nobles of Obia'Syela (32 recipients) - 13 days, 3 hours, 41 minutes ago</b>
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(Part 1/2)<br>
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Vahanian hadn't returned to Rines for very long before hearing rumors about the health and well-being of the Oracle. Some say she'd taken a vow of silence, others say she hadn't recovered from the death of her daughter. Vahanian knew how impacted the Oracle was. He thought back and realized he hadn't seen her since that cursed night.
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He thought back to his preaching in the training pits of Grehk. It had helped him organize his thoughts. He then shifted his thoughts to Rania. She was his oldest friend, they had been through far too much together for him to be Okay with her condition. They had spent an insurmountable amount of time together. Counseling one another, planning, building, and creating. They had become very attuned to one anther's moods, habits, and reactions. Vahanian thought back to the Oracle's 60th birthday. The last time he'd felt truly happy. He'd always intended for that dance to be with her, but upon seeing Stheno's eyes light up at the idea, how could he have refused her? In truth, he'd hardly ever been able to refuse her anything. He thought again and realized, that a different kind of dance all-together would be far more fitting for he and Rania.
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He picked up a tightly wrapped parcel and made his way through the Basilica. Passing numerous Paladin checkpoints, none of which he was slowed at. They all knew him. They all knew his affection and dedication to the Oracle. As he reached the entrance to the Solarium he was finally stopped. He suppressed a small smile. He'd chosen these guards well. They knew him, and he knew them by name. He knew their families personally. Yet they respected the post enough to challenge everyone who sought entrance regardless of their station. They searched his parcel and raised an eyebrow at him, he smiled at them and winked. "Trust me." He breathed. They nodded, cautiously and one of them entered the Solarium with him.
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He crossed the threshold of the trapdoor and his breath caught in his throat. Rania was where he'd expected her to be. On her favored sofa by the glass doors that led to the balcony. The doors were open and a stiff breeze chilled the room. Rania was wearing an obsidian black gown with Obian blue trimming, clearly still in grieving. An opened tome lay in her lap, but the inscriptions remain un-read. Her eyes stared out at the horizon, a dead look on her face. "How long..?" Vahanian asked the Paladin. "Since the night.. hours each day, your grace." Vahanian nodded and Rania finally spoke, "I'm grieving, not dead. Don't speak as if I'm not here.." The Paladin shifted her weight and cleared her throat. Vahanian smiled. He knew her tone was not indicative of her feelings. He walked over to her, depositing his parcel on a table before reaching her. He crouched down in front of her and it took a moment for her eyes to flicker over to his. He grabbed her hand and her skin was cold, no doubt she'd been sitting in the breeze for some time. He searched for words, none that were adequate enough came to him. He looked away still searching. Rania gave his hand a gentle squeeze and he looked back at her. A sad smile that didn't reach her eyes formed on her face. More was conveyed in this look between friends than a thousand words could ever say. Finally Rania said "Vahanian.. I'm fine." Vahanian stood and said "I know, but you still owe me a dance." Vahanian wished he'd been able to see the look on her face, but he was already walking over to his parcel. She stood and was about to say "Vahanian.. I-" She stopped mid-sentence when he drew steel. The Paladin by the door, shifted again, gripping her weapon tighter. Rania recovered and said "I don't want -" Again she was cut-off this time by Vahanian tossing a blade to her. She caught it with practiced ease and he grinned. "Your words say no, but your instincts scream yes." His grin was both amusement and a challenge. In that brief moment he saw fire return to her eyes as she silently acquiesced.<br>
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(Part 2/2)<br>
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Vahanian spun the blade in his hands, not for show, but to loosen his wrists and arms. Rania likewise rolled her shoulders and neck. Vahanian had never seen Rania fight, let alone fought her himself, but he'd always wanted to, especially after hearing unconfirmed rumors, and whispers of her previous life as a warrior, coupled with how she talked about and understood military tactics. The faded white scars of a life of the sword decorated her hands and arms. Vahanian prided himself on being a quick, and accurate judge of martial skill, but here was a woman who was an anomaly to him - and not just in sword-skill. She always did the unexpected. He removed his cloak and tossed it over a chair. It was cold in the room, but he'd take that over restricted movement any day. Rania's eyes flicked down to his right forearm and his new tattoo. Vahanian crouched down to the floor. Though it was made of marble and adorned with rugs, he would not forgo his ritual. He traced the marble with his fingers and then rubbed his hands together, cupping them and then breathing deeply. He stood and opened his eyes. Looking at Rania, the man that had crouched and the man that had risen were different all together. Rania knew of Vahanian's martial skill well, and she'd even watched him fight on a few occasions, but seeing it from the stands and being face to face were two different beasts all together. To say she was afraid would be inaccurate, Rania trusted Vahanian implicitly and she knew he would never harm her. But in the back of her mind, she understood that the man who stood before her now was a level of dangerous that had been forged in the fires of a lifetime of warfare and combat.
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"You still have the option of backing down, old man." Rania purred at Vahanian. He grinned back at her and shook his head. "Not a chance."
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When the Paladin finally thumped the butt of her halberd on the ground to call a start to the match. Vahanian wasn't all together prepared for the aggressive nature of Rania's attacks. She launched herself at him with a ferocity and a precision he didn't think possible from someone who looked as frail and delicate as she did. After the first clang of steel on steel Vahanian settled into battle rhythm. Rania kept up her onslaught, strike after strike, was met with counter, parry, and riposte. Vahanian fought defensive at first, he had to. But soon realized this would not be won on defense. He pushed his aggression. There was a very brief lull in the duel and he heard the Paladin actually mutter "By the goddess.." The rest of the statement was lost amongst the sound of steel slashing steel. Vahanian and Rania moved around the Solarium, exchanging blows and counters in near perfect sync. Rania seemed to have the advantage for a long time, until it became clear that her lack of practice with the sword over the last several years would be her downfall. Vahanian saw an opportunity unfold, as he began to understand Rania's fighting style. She was devastatingly fast, and aggressive, and that, he could use. He let her drive him back a bit, and then when she swung at his head, he ducked under the strike, he saw surprise in her eyes as her blade didn't meet the resistance she had anticipated, he swept her legs from under her, sending her to the ground and as he rose he dashed past her and slashed downward, the tip of his blade just barely nicking her stomach. A thin line of blood welled, the cut was just deep enough to draw blood and wouldn't scar. A true testament to his control with a blade.
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The Paladin thumped her halberd again, claiming the match at an end. Rania looked up at Vahanian and playfully said "Do you think it wise, to put your Oracle on her ass?" Vahanian offered his hand and helped her up while saying "I do if it helps remind her that she still has something to live for, something to fight for." His tone was light and jovial, but his hazel eyes roared with sincerity. Rania just looked at him for a moment before saying "I must go and find a new gown, this one seems to have a rip in it." Vahanian bowed his head as she turned to leave. Just as she was about to cross the threshold of the trapdoor she turned back and said "Vahanian.. Thank you." He bowed his head to her once more as she left. He wrapped his blades and then stepped onto the balcony, looking out over the holy city.<b>|Vahanian Blint}}</b>
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<br>
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===Fight To Win===
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{{Quotation| <b>Roleplay from Vahanian Blint - 5 days, 6 hours, 14 minutes ago</b>
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<blockquote><i>Training Match
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(Personal message) - 3 days, 8 hours, 42 minutes ago
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Kethan D'Espana, Grand Inquisitor of Obia'Syela, Count of Melegra meets his challenger Vahanian Blint, Duke of Amen Telum, Margrave of Grehk, Priest of Heralds of Obeah for the agreed training match.
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Vahanian has decided to use the 'trick moves' strategy while Kethan has chosen the 'aggressive' strategy, giving Kethan the advantage.
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After a series of blows, Vahanian wins the training match.</i></blockquote>
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Vahanian stood on the sands of the arena awaiting his friend. He saw Kethan approach and he crouched and began his ritual. He could feel his friend waiting patiently and respectfully for him to finish. He could feel the curiosity in the air as Kethan no doubt studied Vahanian's ritual and wondered after it's purpose.
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Vahanian finished and rose to his full height, he nodded and smiled at his friend in greeting before gesturing towards the weapon rack. Kethan walked over and grabbed a short sword, satisfied with the weight and balance he took up his ready position. Vahanian walked over and knew his weapon before selecting it. It was a hand-and-a-half sword. He considered a shield, but decided against it.
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He removed his cloak and took up his ready position. Kethan's eyes immediately shot down to Vahanian's right arm, and the tattoo of a large wolf standing over a young panther protectively. Ever the inquisitor, he asked "My friend, if I may inquire as to the meaning and source of your tattoo..?" Vahanian's face went somber for a moment and then he said "Win, and I'll tell you." Kethan grinned and nodded, a look in his eye intrigued Vahanian. He filed it away for future analysis.
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The arbiter called the match a start and Kethan launched an aggressive attack against Vahanian. He grinned, "You've been training." Vahanian called out. Kethan continued his attacks, he was fast, much faster than Vahanian had expected. However, Vahanian quickly felt the battle rhythm, it was familiar. He realized it was a lot of technical strikes and techniques from the academy. "Mistake." he thought to himself. He grinned and decided to have a little fun with his friend. As Kethan launched into his forms, Vahanian called them out. "Ford's crossing. Twin Boulders. Dancing Blade?! Ah Heart's folly! Severed Branch. Annnnd there is Graceful Retreat!" He could see Kethan getting flustered. He danced around him and gradually began extending the distance, limiting the effectiveness of Kethan's speed and short sword.
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Vahanian began throwing a lot of feints and using tricks of the blade to confuse and irritate Kethan. Kethan rushed forward in a surge of adrenaline and speed, trying to catch Vahanian off-guard. Vahanian had waited and just as quickly, dropped and spun his leg around, sweeping Kethan's feet from under him. He bounced up and dashed over to his friend, and quickly cut a 'V' into his chest, just enough to draw blood, like the last time they fought the wound was superficial and wouldn't scar.
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Kethan's eyes were a mixture of adrenaline fueled anger and confusion. Vahanian grinned and offered a hand. "Fight's are rarely fair. You fight with too much honor. Your speed is good, but you're too technical, too predictable. The Swordmasters don't know everything. Use their teachings as a guide, but fight nimbly here." He pointed to Kethan's head and said "As well as here." and clasped his shoulder.
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Vahanian put his weapon away and again grew somber. "It's for her." he said, gesturing to his tattoo. "I got the scar protecting her and it only seemed fitting to dedicate it to her." Kethan nodded, his face clearly showing his humble appreciation and the love he too shared for Stheno. "She'd have loved it." Kethan said gently. Vahanian nodded and then cleared his throat and started to leave as he passed his friend he said "Stop using shortswords. You rely on the speed too much, it makes you predictable." <b>|Vahanian Blint}}</b>
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<br>
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{{Quotation| <b>Roleplay from Kethan D'Espana
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Message sent to everyone in Rines (10 recipients) - 4 days, 19 hours, 23 minutes ago</b>
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When Kethan arrived to the arena for the third match against his friend, he was feeling much better and far more relaxed than in any of the two previous encounters. Yes, he had lost in both of them, and yes, the first one had seen him receiving a deep wound that still mildly bothered him to this day, but this time he had actually properly prepared for the encounter and was looking forward to it. His friend was already there, and he began his ritual to prepare himself, as he had done all the previous times. Kethan did so as well, closing his eyes and breathing deeply to focus on the upcoming fight. He would have to ask Vahanian one of these days about the ritual and his meaning, but this was not the right time.
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Even before Vahanian gestured towards the weapon rack, Kethan already know what he would do. It would be a shortsword, fast and nimble like no other weapon in his hands. He still was convinced that speed was the key to defeat Vahanian. His friend had the size, the weight, the reach, the strenght and the experience, but he himself had trained for his entire life with speed as the key to ensure victory. Shorter than most, swift movements were his best weapons against usually larger opponents.
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Vahanian chose a hand-and-a-half sword, lethal in his hands, but Kethan would not let his friend intimidate him today. His muscles were still tender from all the training in the academy, and he was dying to put them to good use. Then, when Vahanian got ready to fight and he was about to begin the duel, he saw the tattoo on his right arm as he put his cloak aside. Was it... a wolf? And that was... a panther?
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A deep shiver crawled over his skin, all the way from the base of his neck to the toes of his feet. He asked about it immediately, but Vahanian challenged him to win in order to learn the answer. Something in his face told him that he already knew the answer. Shaking his head to shield himself from strange thoughts that began creeping on his mind, he filed it away for future analysis. Very well, he would win and force Vahanian to tell him.
 +
 +
When the arbiter signaled for the beginning of the match, Kethan launched himself immediately on the offensive, putting to good use his recently learnt movements in a quite aggressive display of furious strikes. However, Vahanian was not caught by surprise. When the old devil started calling his moves, sometimes even before he himself had decided which one to use, he started to feel the pressure. This was not he had imagined the fight going, and he could already feel his stamina depleting after the very intense start of the fighting cadence. Vahanian was tiring him out, and doing so extremely effectively, with lots of parries, dodges and feints that consumed far less energy than Kethan was using with his deep thrusts and lightning-fast strikes.
 +
 +
It was then that Vahanian started to put even more space between them, thus completely negating Kethan's attempts to attack through his staunch defense and superior reach, and using even more trick moves in an attempt to confuse and irritate him. But Kethan was not going to allow his friend get away from his defeat this time. Third time's the charm, and he was here to prove Vahanian that he was a good fighter himself. Waiting until the proper moment, Kethan sprung forward in an impressive surge of adreline and speed, that would have surely overpowered a less experienced opponent.
 +
 +
But not Vahanian. Instead of parrying or dodging the savage combination of blows, which would have been a challenge even for him, he simply dropped and spun his leg around, thus dropping Kethan to the floor and promptly ending the fight with a quick "V" on Kethan's chest. The younger man felt the shock running through his brain, almost offended that Vahanian hadn't let him finish his maneuver. It was a fantastic combo he had just mastered not even a week ago! The instructor had fallen under his blows every single time he had tried it. How could Vahanian have done that? Such a low blow, such a filthy tactic for such an experienced swordsmaster as him...
 +
 +
Kethan barely managed to listen to Vahanian's advice, blood still rushing through his veins in a deeply unsatisfied manner for the abrupt ending of the fight. Finally accepting Vahanian's hand, he got a look on his new tattoo again, and he felt the same deep shiver he had felt at the beginning of the fight. His anger suddenly forgotten, he listened to Vahanian's explanation, and nodded in the appreciation for the gesture to her beloved former pupil. He could feel a knot on his throat and a heavy weight in his heart, and simply stated that Stheno would have loved the tattoo. He did not feel ready to say anything else, nor was it needed.
 +
 +
Vahanian nodded, and gave Kethan the last bit of advice of the day before passing him and walking away. Kethan followed him soon after. Next time. <b>|Kethan D'Espana}}</b>
 +
<br>
 +
==Exercise The Body, Strengthen The Spirit==
 +
<br>
 +
===Two Pillars, One Temple===
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{{Quotation|<b> Roleplay from Vahanian Blint
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Message sent to all nobles of Obia'Syela (32 recipients) - 11 days, 17 hours, 45 minutes ago</b>
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Vahanian stood in a training circle beneath the streets of Rines. The halls he walked today were that of the old Templar Nexus - still used by the members of the order located in Rines. He was working through some forms with a rapier when he noticed some hushed voices and poor attempts at subtlety from some younger members of the order. He ignored them at first, this was commonplace when he was training in a relatively open space. After the hush voices didn't dissipate, he tried shooting glances towards them that were intended to remind the younglings that they had chores to do.
 +
 +
Several minutes later, Vahanian stopped mid-form. His sudden pause caused the reaction he'd hoped for. Silence. His audience was silent, curious as to why he stopped. He whirled around and bellowed at them. 'STAND FRONT AND CENTER. ALL OF YOU.' All but one hurried forward, most unsure what was happening, but too scared to disobey. Only one tried to slink away during the commotion. Vahanian pulled a knife from his belt and threw it, it embedded into the wood of the door next to the young Templar's hand. 'Front and center.' He said. The young Templar turned, his face white with fear, and hurried to join the line of young Templar.
 +
 +
"Since all of you seem far more interested in watching me train than performing your duties or tending to your studies.. Perhaps your time is best learning something." Vahanian handed each of them a wooden stave and he himself held one as well. He stood before all 12 of them and gestured to a bell on the other side of the room, and said "Ring the bell before this hourglass fills and you all get to skip tomorrow's chores and lessons. Don't ring the bell in time and.... well let's keep that a surprise." Vahanian flipped the hour glass and spun to face the 12 Templar. They surged forward each eager on being the one to ring the bell. Some tried to run right by them, they met the stone floor with great speed and about as much grace as one might expect. With 3 Templar down, he had only 9 to go. 2 of them hadn't moved, still shocked and probably scared, the other 7 were surging towards Vahanian intent on barreling through him. He grinned and danced among them like wind through reeds, in mere moments they were moaning on the ground or tangled among each other egos bruised more than their bodies. He turned to the final two and simply walked over to them, and said "Boo!" they dropped their staves right away.
 +
 +
He chuckled and ordered everyone to their feet. Pointed to three and said 'Attack.' They rushed at him one at a time, foolishly, and he swatted away their attacks and provided them with bruises or headaches as reminders all the while lecturing to the others. "Fight with your mind, not your heart. Dying in battle wont grant you any more glory than dying in the arms of a lover. Dying stupidly is a waste of life, and we do not waste lives. We are Obeah's chosen warriors." He made an emphasis on his words with swings of his stave against the young Templar. He pointed to three more and said "Attack." They did so. "We operate in the light, Inquisitors do not. We are the shields that guard the faithful. We are the swords that defend the faith. We are the spears that pierce the hearts of Obeah's enemies. We are the front line, We are the back line, We are the only line." He pointed to three more and said "Attack." They also, did as commanded. "We are guardians and warriors, we are sentinels and soldiers, we are priests and nobles, we are the faithful, but we are not stupid or wasteful. Never go for the flashy kill, never give the enemy an advantage. Don't assume an enemy is dead until they are. Never wait for the perfect strike on an enemy when 5, or 10, or 20, or 100 will kill him just as effectively, and far more quickly." He pointed the final 3 and said "Attack." They did. "We are the flame that fights back the darkness. We are strong when others are weak. We defend the journey of the faithful. We are Templar, and we will kill all who stand in our way."
 +
 +
He ended his final statement by sweeping the legs of the only Templar who was still standing. He pinned the boy down with his stave and then released his grip, allowing the boy to move.
 +
 +
"Templars start again at dawn.... Others do not." Vahanian called, before returning to his private chambers in the Nexus.<b>|Vahanian Blint}}</b>
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 +
 +
==Ecstasy In Grehk==
 +
<br>
 +
{{Quotation|<i>You carefully work the ritual inscribed on your scroll of Ecstasy.
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You carefully perform the ritual described on the scroll, and when it finishes, you wait expectantly for something to happen. Nothing seems to. Disappointed, you clean up the area where you performed the ritual and start to head home, when you pass a comely peasant, and feel a sudden stirring of lust. By the time you have made it back, you have seen—and heard—many unmistakable signs that the scroll is working.
 +
 +
Population Boom in Grehk just in Your seneschal brings you word of an inexplicable population boom in Grehk. 689 babies have apparently been born recently.</i>|Ecstasy Spell Casting}}
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{{Quotation|<b>Roleplay from Vahanian Blint
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Message sent to all nobles of Obia'Syela (36 recipients) - just in</b>
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 +
Vahanian could feel the magic emanating from the scroll case he carried. It made his arm, and tattoo tingle. He walked through the halls of the White Citadel until he came to the stair that led to the rooftop gardens. He wound his way through the carefully tended paths and found the outcrop of the garden where he'd tried spell-casting once before. He was entirely alone, save for his chief advisor, Baldwin, who stood back and said nothing. He was a little more familiar with the process this time around, having witnessed the Oracle handle more magic than he though possible and still demand more.
 +
 +
He lit the braziers with the torch, discarding it in the fourth brazier and readied himself. He removed his thick cloak and placed the scroll case in front of him. He studied it, mentally picking it up and examining it in his mind. He wanted to do this right, the people of Grehk needed this. He remembered Rania starting to sing, and he remembered her voice guided his own to the right resonance. He tried that again, only it didn't feel right, didn't feel the same. He was about to proceed anyway when something deep within his mind stopped him. He needed to focus.  He drew his sword and sat down, taking a whetstone and running it along the blade in a careful and methodical manner. The sound of the stone on the steel was oddly calming to him, the sound it made resonated with him, he began to try to match the tone with his own humming. When he felt he was hitting the right resonance with both whetstone and humming he closed his eyes, and reached out with his mind, his will, and his spirit. He could feel himself reach out towards the scroll, and was suddenly thrown about in the tumultuous storm of sounds and resonances, it was too much, to messy. He couldn't find the order to it. He relaxed, and let go. Retreating, in his mind, back to the whetstone and his humming.
 +
 +
He just relaxed, waiting, for the right resonance to come. He decided to take the scroll from it's case, but not unfurl it just yet. Looking at the magic infused parchment he was filled with memories, emotions, and pain. It made him think of Stheno. His heartbeat quickened and he could feel his face redden with anger and sadness. He didn't fight the emotion. He let it in, but slowly, methodically, and carefully. In his mind, he placed each emotion in his place. The ferocity of his anger, the pain of his sadness, the rawness of his regret.
 +
 +
He gripped the hilt of his sword tighter until his knuckles went white, and he hummed. Then it hit him all at once, the power of the magic swarmed to his call, but not as sound. As color. He saw the hues of red, and pink, and orange, and undertones of blue. He stood and grabbed the scroll with his left hand and holding onto his sword with his right. He began reciting the enchantment, each word sparked a different color in his mind, Orange, pink, red, blue, red, red, red, pink, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, orange, pink, pink, orange, orange, blue, blue and finally. White.
 +
 +
He pierced the scroll with his blade as he recited the last enchantment and it burst into flames. He slammed it to the stones he stood upon and held it there. Concentrating on the emotions and the colors that flooded his mind. Willing them into and through his body. His tattoo burned, his vision went white as he became the focal point for the magic that swirled around him. He released that energy directing out and up and over his beloved city, he choked out a sob as the last of the energy released from his body and he gasped for air. The scroll sputtered out, charred and expended, and Vahanian was filled with a sense of failure. He grew weary, and felt totally drained. He needed food, and he needed sleep. As he stood, sheathed his sword and started the trek back to his chambers, he wandered through the halls of the White Citadel. He needed to think before he rested.
 +
 +
As he walked through the halls of the citadel, he started to feel at peace. It was subtle. He relaxed a bit more, and turned a corner he very clearly got the smell of lilies and lavender. It reminded him of Katerina. He kept wandering through the halls and as he turned back towards his chambers, he caught sight of her standing in the doorway, beckoning him to join him in their chambers. He felt his heart skip a beat, as he saw her in all her beauty. The curls of her black hair, the shinning emerald green eyes that made him feel totally vulnerable and totally safe at the same time. The sweet, pure innocent joy in her laugh, and the nearly blinding brilliance and infectiousness of her smile. He was filled with so much love, so much desire, and so much longing for her.
 +
She faded from view and he turned around looking for her not ready for her to leave. He turned back towards his chamber doors, but she was gone. He was faced with just the sturdy oak door and the joys of his memories of her.<b>|Vahanian Blint}}</b>
 +
 +
==Keffa's Ritual==
 +
===The Templar and Blood-Priest===
 
<br>
 
<br>
Vahanian Blint, brother to Leatho and Lillian. He began his career as a noble in Madina, but quickly joined the realm of Aurvandil. After proving himself a capable commander and natural leader he was appointed Duke of the Margrivate of Tower Fatmilak and named the Arbiter of Justice. He spent many years in these positions, but eventually, the weight of war and the combined forces of the enemies of Aurvandil led him to leave Dwilight in shame. He spent several years as a reaver, pirate, and mercenary until he met Katerina. He fell in love with her immediately and she with him. He gave up his ignoble ways for her and made a home for them in the North of Beluterra, among the people of Thalmarkin. He spent years with her, serving as a lord of the Wailing Woods and a protector of its people. During the 6th Daimon invasion of Beluterra, he took command of a large force of Thalmarkin soldiers. They proved to be extremely effective in combat, and with wills made of iron. In an attempt to destroy him, a Daimon Warband kidnapped Katerina, and Vahanian's firstborn daughter, Ellaria. Vahanian was soon captured as well, he spent weeks at the hands of the Daimons, as did his family. They did not survive imprisonment. When Vahanian escaped, he and 10 other Northmen hunted that Warband for months. Eventually finding it and Vahanian killed its leader in battle. After the invasion ended, Vahanian secluded himself from the world, sequestering himself away in the northern mountains of Thalmarkin.  
+
{{Quotation|<b>Roleplay from Vahanian Blint
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Message sent to everyone in Keffa (96 recipients)</b>
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<i><u>The Square</u></i>
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Vahanian looked across the square at those assembled, they'd been standing around for what felt like days. The crowd was growing ever larger as more people filed into his city. Vahanian reached his limit. He'd had enough waiting. "To hell with this." He muttered and he dismounted from his horse and shouldered his way through the line of Obian soldiers. "Oh Son of a bit-" the swear of Baldwin, Vahanian's captain of the guard, was drowned out by the thudding in Vahanian's ears. He muscled his way into the center of the square. His soldiers streaming after him, both equally excited at the prospect of combat, and worried that Vahanian was about to do something horrendously reckless and dangerous. Vahanian headed directly towards the group of Vordul soldiers guarding the ritual.
 +
 
 +
"Move aside." Vahanian said, his voice dripping with a calm fury and controlled lethality. As he approached threshold of Vordul blood magic, his arm seared in pain. It felt like he was reaching into the depths of hell's core and trying to return unscathed. No physical representation of the burning pain was on his arm, but in his head, it felt like he'd just been thrown into lava.
 +
 
 +
Vahanian glowered at the force rallied against him as he saw and then proceed to call upon the one he once called ally. The defiler. "You'll do." he said, the challenge in his voice clear.  He spit in front of the Vordul forces and declared: "Godfrey Greybrook! You're a disgrace to the Greybrook name. Ferdinand was twice the man you could ever dream of being. You're a cancerous filth that needs to be purged from this world."
 +
 
 +
Godfrey rushed stepped foreward, placing himself directly in Vahanian's path and between the duke and Poli, his eyes darting between the approaching Vahanian and the edge of the circle, clearly wondering what effect an interruption could have on the ritual. He gripped his ritual dagger tightly and stepped forward barring entry to the ritual circle and placing himself between Vahanian and Poli. Vahanian snorted as he paced back and forth across from the priest.
 +
 
 +
Hatred of his own, poured from Godfrey's body language. The animosity in the air was almost as palpable as the magic that fluttered around the square. He accepted the challenge.
 +
 
 +
For someone of his age, Vahanian moved with surprising speed and agility. He launched forward, like a panther pouncing on it's prey, and struck with the ferocity of a wolf bringing down a kill. Godfrey brought his dagger up just in time to prevent himself from being decapitated. Vahanian was relentless in his attacks, toying with Godfrey, striking hard and fast, but drawing out the panic in his opponent. He seemed to relish the fear in Godfrey's eyes. The fear and realization that he might not live to see this ritual complete. That his work thus far would be for naught. To the priest's credit, he held his ground. He defended as best he could, clearly having had some training with the sword, but his technique was lacking. The life of a priest often led to a lackluster skill with the sword.
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(1/2)<b>|Vahanian Blint}}</b>
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{{Quotation|<b>Roleplay from Vahanian Blint Player
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Message sent to everyone in Keffa (96 recipients) - 7 days, 17 hours, 19 minutes ago</b>
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<u><i>The Square</i></u>
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All things must end, and so to did the brief bout. Vahanian parried inside of Godfrey's excuse for a guard, he battered the dagger out of Godfrey's grasp, sending it skittering across the square towards the ritual circle. Vahanian slammed the pommel of his sword into Godfrey's temple, dazing him as he grabbed the lapel of his robes and swept his feet from under him. Landing with his knee on the priest's chest and his blade pressed against Godfrey's throat, he looked into the eyes of a heathen with pure, unadulterated hatred
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 +
With an almost euphoria in his eyes, Godfrey began leaning into to sword, teasing the blade to cut the skin on his, almost begging through gasps "Do it old man… Kill me… Do my cousin proud… Everything you have loved has died… All for your bitch Obeah… Do it!"
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 +
Vahanian was just about to end the priest's life when he heard Kethan's voice calmly say "Vahanian.. don't. It's a blood ritual." Vahanian looked over and saw the Inquisitor, one of his oldest friends, standing there, looking as if he'd spent the last 6 weeks constantly awake, with his face burried in tomes. He was passively watching the events with a scholar's eye. Vahanian stayed his blade, but gave the opportunity for Godfrey to react. As he got up suddenly, Godfrey pressed his ear against the sharp weapon and like an animal saw his ear removed from his head in an attempt to escape.
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 +
Reacting instantly on instinct and to the horror, Vahanian grabbed Godfrey by the throat, squeezing, he pressed Godfrey's head into the stone street and stared down at the priest with utter hatred before he whispered. "I'll be seeing you again." He stood, and released Godfrey in one swift motion, wathcing Godfrey as he scampered off to collect the remnants of his ear as blood poured unto the stone below. Vahanian, sheathing his sword and returning to his horse, muttered to Kethan. "This needs to end."
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(2/2)<b>|Vahanian Blint}}</b>
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===Always The Sentinel===
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<br>
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{{Quotation|<b>Roleplay from Vahanian Blint
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Message sent to everyone in Keffa (99 recipients) - 6 days, 17 hours, 56 minutes ago</b>
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Saoirse charged her lancers forward, the arrows rained down death on them. Vahanian's soldiers pressed against the throng of the assembled crowd and did their best to shield the onlookers from stray arrows. Vahanian stood in the middle of the square. Hand on the hilt of his sheathed sword, unafraid. His eyes tracked Saoirse as she charged, as her horse fell, as she recovered, and engaged Emilia. Vahanian was reacting, the sweet familiarity of battle settling over him. He moved with the grace and poise of a dancer, and the purpose of a soldier. A Vordul troop, Vahanian wasn't sure and didn't care what unit he belonged to, charged for Saoirse's back, trying to gain an advantage. Vahanian spun and drew his sword in one fluid motion, the soldier was met with the silent whisper of steel cutting through air, and then flesh, and bone as Vahanian decapitated him.
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 +
He watched Saoirse fight. Every instinct in him wanted to rush to her aide. The teacher in him wanted to help, but he knew at his core that this was her fight. It wasn't that she wanted to do this. She needed to do this. He kept his distance, and made sure that nobody else interrupted the duel, while watching it with a practiced eye. He studied Saoirse's movements and technique, rattling off the forms she was flowing through in his head. Evidently his training with her paid off, she feinted and struck a critical blow, disarming Emilia and forcing her into submission. A glint of fierce pride swelled in his eye, and a slight nod of approval was the only physical indication of his pride he sent Saoirse's way.
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 +
Vahanian's arm surged in pain, new magic was being cast. He ignored the pain, and focused on the sensation in the shards in his arm, the pulsing was different from the Vordul blood magic. This was not magic of death, this was magic of life.
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    {{Quotation|<p><i>Peace. Compassion. Calm. Contentment. Love.<br>
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    Yao Ling Pryde's scroll glowed in her grasp as the spell was cast.</i></p>|Yao Ling Pryde}}
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Vahanian fought against the magic that coursed through him. Wrestling with the emotions that flooded his mind. He did feel calm, but it wasn't a natural calm. That was a problem he'd always had with emotional magic. Once he knew it was magic, he was able to find the falsity in it. He relaxed some, against his will, but he relaxed.
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 +
He scanned the square again, ensuring that Saoirse was indeed safe, before scanning the crowd, sheathing his sword, but keeping his hand firmly on the hilt.
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His hazel eyes grazed the crowd, and he spotted banners from all the realms on the continent. He passed over a noble standing in both Thalmarkin and his own family regalia. It was familiar but Vahanian couldn't place it at the moment. The colors and sigil weren't what drew his attention. Something was off about this man. There was a darkness around him that felt like it was just beyond sight. There was evil in this man, of that Vahanian had no doubt. He made a mental note of where in the crowd that man was, and continued his scan. Searching for any who were unaffected, or overcame the calming magic and sought to charge the Grandmistress.<b>|Vahanian Blint}}</b>
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==Bowed Yet Unbroken==
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<br>
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{{Quotation|<b>Roleplay from Vahanian Blint Player experience level: mentor Player play preference: rp-combat
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Message sent to all nobles of Obia'Syela (16 recipients)</b>
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There was nothing Vahanian could do about the portal, at least nothing immediate. Even still, his heart was heavy, and his mind cluttered. He needed clarity and council. He took a deep breath and set his jaw. He knew where he had to go and what he had to do. It was, as Kat had said, far past time for him to make this trip.
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There was a solemnity to the journey Vahanian was making. Each step served as a reminder of his oaths made and promises unkept. Vahanian pulled a key from a chain he wore around his neck. This key was one of four copies, the other three were held by Kethan, Antonia, and the Grand Prelate. He nodded to the Templar dressed as paladins guarding the sturdy, iron studded, hickory door stationed at the top of the Keffan Temple. They searched him and challenged his intent, to which he replied honestly. Knowing who he was and his reputation, the Templar were satisfied. His eyes flickered to the ceilings of the pathway and he was glad to see his murder holes were still in place, no doubt housing a number of Paladins waiting to rain death upon anyone bold enough to intrude.
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He ascended the spiral stone staircase and soon arrived in the annex of the Keffan temple's highest chamber. His heart felt heavy and his stomach heavier. He wordlessly submitted to the inspection of his person and answered the challenge of his identity. Only once Inquisitors, in the purple veils of Paladins, were satisfied did they permit him to present his key for the second time and proceed further upwards. The stairs that wound upward from the annex were much steeper, a design he'd requested specifically. Both for their tactical advantage against intruders as well as the symbolic representation of forcing one to contemplate the journey before, during, and after taking it. The only sounds echoing across the stones were his breathing, the sound of his boots against the stairs, and the crackling of the occasional torch. After what felt like an arduous and lengthy journey, he arrived at the third and final checkpoint before his destination.
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Here were the final set of paladins as well, these selected from among the Heraldry. They, like their Templar and Inquisitor counterparts, searched him and questioned him. Providing his answers and submitting to the search permitted him the access to the third and final door. He inserted and turned his key, taking a deep breath and steeling his nerves before entering the Keffan Sanctum. It was very different from it's counterpart in Rines, the Holy Solarium. Where the Solarium was smooth, polished marble, with ornate décor and arcane glyphs, the Sanctum was stone, rough and unpolished. The Sanctum was built for security and privacy. Vahanian had personally overseen it's construction and design. The Solarium in Rines had overlooked the city with ample stained glass windows and a balcony, separated from the main chamber by curtains. Here, in the Sanctum, it was pillars of stone with wrought iron bars and thick leather privacy shades. The wall sconces were blackened with soot from the torches that were kept lit day and night. The furnishings in the Sanctum were sparse and afforded little comfort.
 +
 
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He walked into the circular chamber and let out a shaky breath. There upon the alter, lay a shrouded figure preserved by her own magics and that of scrolls cast in Rines.
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Vahanian tried to hold back the tears that welled in his eyes, but he couldn't. He took deep, shaky breaths as he looked at the shrouded form of his oldest friend. "I'm sorry.." He whispered. He heard the faint 'whoosh' and out of the corner of his teary eye he saw the white-yellow glow of Kat standing off to the side, her head bowed slightly in respect, and her hands folded in front of her as she quietly waited for him to finish. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect her, or you.." He whispered to Rania. Kat glided over to him and wrapped her ghostly arms around his waist, and gently rested her head on his shoulder.
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Vahanian took a deep, shaky breath to steady himself, wiped his eyes, and said to Kat "You would have loved her. You would have loved them both.." Kat smiled and hummed her ascent. "Rania was formidable, proud, and strong. She could silence a room with a stare and inspire a nation with a word." His affection and admiration for Rania apparent in his voice. Vahanian took a deep breath as he absently rubbed his hand on the panther tattoo on his forearm, his homage to Stheno. "Stheno was wild, and fierce. She was a tiny hurricane of energy. Equal parts joy and trouble." He said fondly. Kat looked up at Vahanian and said
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 +
<i>"They were lucky to have you. Rania as a friend, and partner, and Stheno as a guardian and teacher."</i>
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Vahanian tried to smile, but couldn't muster the energy, tears streamed down his face as he thought about Stheno.
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<i>"They knew you loved them in your own way. Rania trusted you with everything, and Stheno, well you were more a father to her than anyone else in her life."</i>
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Vahanian sank to his knees as his heart dropped into the pit of his stomach. "I'm sorry, Kat. I'm so sorry." He muttered to her, fighting to get the words out "I abandoned our children, our family for them, for her." Gesturing to the shrouded form. "I wish I could have been a better father. A better man for our family. But I... I..." Vahanian couldn't find the words, and they wouldn't have come even if he'd known them.
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Kat unwound herself from him and glided in front of him, kneeling, she reached out and pressed her ethereal hand against his cheek and looked into his eyes.
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<i>"You were the perfect man for our family. We all make mistakes."</i>
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He tilted his head, as if to press it into her palm and said "I left our children for Rania and Stheno." Kat smiled sadly at him and said
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 +
<i>"You did the best you could, and you were a father to the child who couldn't have, and wouldn't have survived without one. Ours did. She needed you more, they both needed you more. And look what's become of that choice. You've lived a long and wonderful life. You'll have so many stories to share with us once your time comes."</i>
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Vahanian smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.
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Kat cupped his face in both her spectral hands and she said, a little more firmly.
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<i>"My love, don't feel bad. You were the father Stheno needed, when she needed it. Nothing can take that away. I love you for it, and so did she. Remember that."</i>
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Vahanian looked at her, so much pain, so much sadness in his eyes. "Will you stay with me?" he asked, his voice was as steady as he could muster, but his eyes pleaded with her. She smiled a ghostly smile and whispered
 +
 
 +
<i>"I'm with you, always.".</i>
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 +
Vahanian smiled back, but his expression didn't change. She knew what he was asking and she nodded her ascent
 +
 
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<i>"For a while.".</i>
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The two sat on the cold stones, lost in thought and each other's company.
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After what seemed like far too little time, Kat finally spoke as her ghost began to fade.
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<i>"It's time, my love."</i>
  
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Vahanian held the pendant he always wore and whispered to the air as she shimmered from his view "I love you, now and always."
  
He has long dark auburn hair and hazel eyes. He loves living by the sea and he loves the fact that his enemies are trampled before the might of the Aurvandillian armies.  
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He stayed on his knees in silence for a time. Staring at the alter. He tried to speak, tried to explain several times, but the words never came. Those he thought of sounded hollow in his head and tasted of ash on his tongue. So, he sat there alone, waiting and thinking. It felt like time stood still and sped up all at once, he'd lost all sense of it. Finally jolting, as if coming back to himself. He bowed his head low, out of respect, and stayed there for a while before rising to his feet and setting his jaw. There was work to be done.  
  
He has a hard heart and shows little to no love for the rest of his family. He is bitter about his father's death, not understanding why his father left him when he was only a small child.
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|Vahanian Blint}}

Latest revision as of 00:52, 17 March 2021

VB1.jpg

Middle Child of Kylar and Ilena, a natural born leader and man of great honor. He values oaths above all else and will hold true to them no matter what. Tempered and forged in the northern wildlands of Beluterra he's endured countless fights with Daimons and has even been captured and tortured by his sworn enemies. Once a husband and father, until they were ripped away from him by Daimon hordes he was a broken nomad for a long time. Until he was called upon to serve the Veiled Goddess of the Sacred Realm Obia'Syela. Currently he serves as Duke of Amen Keffa, Executor of the Templar Order, and a chief advisor to the throne of Obia'Syella.

– Vahanian



A Path Through Time

The Early Years:

Vahanian Blint, brother to Leatho and Lillian. He began his career as a noble in Madina, but quickly joined the realm of Aurvandil. After proving himself a capable commander and natural leader he was appointed Duke of the Margrivate of Tower Fatmilak and named the Arbiter of Justice. He spent many years in these positions, but eventually, the weight of war and the combined forces of the enemies of Aurvandil led him to leave Dwilight in shame. He spent several years as a reaver, pirate, and mercenary until he met Katerina. He fell in love with her immediately and she with him.

Life in the North:

He gave up his ignoble ways for her and made a home for them in the North of Beluterra, among the people of Thalmarkin. He spent years with her, serving as a lord of the Wailing Woods and a protector of its people. During the 6th Daimon invasion of Beluterra, he took command of a large force of Thalmarkin soldiers. They proved to be extremely effective in combat, and with wills made of iron. In an attempt to destroy him, a Daimon Warband kidnapped Katerina, and Vahanian's firstborn daughter, Ellaria. Vahanian was soon captured as well, he spent weeks at the hands of the Daimons, as did his family. They did not survive imprisonment. When Vahanian escaped, he and 10 other Northmen hunted that Warband for months. Eventually finding it and Vahanian killed its leader in battle. After the invasion ended, Vahanian secluded himself from the world, sequestering himself away in the northern mountains of Thalmarkin.

A New Oath:

Vahanian had been growing tired of the internal politics in Thalmarkin, he felt the ruling council had lost sight of the true vision and purpose of the Northernmost realm on Beluterra. When he heard his older brother and only living sibling, Leatho had sworn himself and their family to House JeVondair, Vahanian was intrigued. He soon learned that there was a southern Queen, a Rania Eastersand JeVondair, whom had issued a call to arms for any nobles looking for a life to dedicate themselves to. With the loss of his family, and his waning patience for the politics of Thalmarkin, Vahanian answered the call. He was soon after tasked with Traveling to the Shattered Vales and establishing a foothold there alongside a man he'd never met. Kethan D'Espana. At their first meeting the two men established a friendship that would persist through time and distance.


Baptism By Fire:

Train The Sword, Sharpen The Mind


Grief Devours Reason

Roleplay from Vahanian Blint Message sent to all nobles in Rines (9 recipients) - 15 days, 22 hours, 53 minutes ago

Vahanian waited on the sands of the arena. This particular arena was one that he'd ordered constructed during his time as steward and all the workers in this section were rather fond of him. They afforded him private use of their sands whenever he asked.

Today Vahanian felt neutral. His emotions had been in flux since Stheno's death, most days he was submerged beneath the waves of grief and pain, but today he felt oddly in control. Perhaps the anticipation of friendly competition with an old friend was lifting his spirits. Vahanian saw a figure approach from the other side of the Arena, he recognized the outline as Kethan and then he began his pre-match ritual. He crouched down and picked up a handful of the sand from the arena and smelled it, breathing in the scent of the grains. He rubbed his hands together letting the sand fall between his palms and back to the ground, before clapping once and removing any excess sand.

He stood, he was slightly taller than average at about 6 feet high, he wore a sleeveless, form fitting tunic. His arms were decorated with the tell tale signs of a swordsmen. Scattered white scars of mistakes and battles won and lost adorned his muscles. His hair was tied back in a loose braid with a black sateen ribbon. He wore dark trousers and leather boots. A weapon rack was off to the side that held an assortment of weaponry.

Kethan approached and bowed his head to Vahanian. "Good to see you, my friend." Vahanian bowed his head and responded in kind. He gestured to the weapon rack and allowed Kethan to select his weapon first. Vahanian was a bit surprised that Kethan went for the short sword. Vahanian towered over his friend by nearly a foot, he had a greater reach and he hadn't been frail and close to death a few days ago.

The thought of Kethan's recovery brought back a flood of emotions, Vahanian fought them with all his might. He fought the irrationality that crept into his brain. He hated the irrational, it had no place here, it only served to cause things to be unorganized and disorderly. Vahanian hated those things, but despite his best efforts he couldn't keep a thought from pervading his mind, he couldn't help but think that if not for Kethan, Stheno might still be alive. He walked over to the weapon rack and grabbed twin short swords. He wasn't in full control of himself and that only fueled his anger.

The two friends squared off. With a practiced eye Vahanian read the battle on Kethan, he could smell it, taste it, hear it. Today it sung of cowardice. Today it tasted of neutrality. Today it smelled of caution. Today it looked like fear.

The arbiter of the match called the start and Vahanian launched his attack. Baldwin watched in great anticipation. He loved watching his master fight. With short swords Vahanian usually started slow, but today was different. Baldwin was shocked at the aggressiveness of Vahanian's attacks. Kethan held his own, for a time. But the sheer force and onslaught of Vahanian's attacks were causing him to tire. There was a moment when it appeared as though Vahanian had overextended himself, and Kethan was surprisingly fast. He countered and slashed at Vahanian. The clang of steel was the first indicator of who was going to win.

Kethan had chosen short swords because he thought speed would be his advantage. He clearly didn't know Vahanian's own personal affinity for short swords. They were, arguably, his favorite and best weapon, and it showed. Kethan and Vahanian locked blades for a brief moment, until Vahanian kicked Kethan square in the chest. Launching the man backwards. He recovered well, which spoke volumes to his experience as a soldier. But Vahanian was not deterred. He moved in while Kethan was still on his knees, and batted away his sword. Vahanian moved past Kethan and slashed downwards, harder than he'd meant to and cut deeper than he meant to. Kethan grunted and fell forward. The Arbiter called the match Vahanian's victory, but as soon as Vahanian saw the blood pooling on the sand, he felt like anything but a victor.

The Arbiter rushed forward and Vahanian was still in the throws of his emotions. This time he was overcome with shame and dishonor. He leveled his blade at the Arbiter, the point just touching his throat and through gritted teeth said "I will see to him." The Arbiter swallowed, hands outstretched to show he meant no harm and backed away.

"Baldwin! The Healers!" Vahanian barked. Baldwin nodded and hurried off. Vahanian knelt next to his unconscious friend and lowered his head. mumbling under his breath. He cut a strip of tunic off with a blade and wrapped it as tightly as he could around Kethan's torso, giving him a makeshift bandage. "Forgive me, old friend. I'm not yet myself." Vahanian whispered to Kethan.


Roleplay from Kethan D'Espana

(Personal message to Vahanian Blint) - 10 days, 23 hours, 17 minutes ago

It was the day.

When sunrise came, Kethan was already preparing himself. Today was the day he would be fighting Vahanian for the first time. The past few weeks since Stheno's death had been a roller coaster of emotions, ebbing and flowing between the downs of reflection and memories and the ups of excitement and challenges since he had been chosen Grand Inquisitor.

Once he was ready, he took a deep breath and began walking towards the arena where Vahanian had suggested to meet. It was very early, but the streets of Rines were already alive with the movement of peasants, traders and artisans as they got ready to begin their work. He had no problem finding the fighting grounds, and he saw his old friend waiting for him when he entered the place.

As he walked towards him, he saw Vahanian crouching and picking some sand, probably some sort of ritualistic preparation for the match. He waited for him to finish, and closed his eyes to mentally prepare as well. When he opened them, Vahanian was already standing up, and Kethan's anticipation for the fight began waning a little. Vahanian was much taller than him, at least a foot if not more, and the old man was considerably heavier and more robust as well. He knew that, of course, but he hadn't had to fight him before, and he could feel his nerves flaring up when considering the likely outcome of the match. It didn't help to know the reputation Vahanian had, a proficient master of the blade and probably much more skilled than he was after so many years without practicing.

Kethan couldn't also avoid looking at Vahanian's arms, covered in the many scars of previous fights. He had his fair share of battle marks, most of them coming from Daimons during the last Invasion, but he had to admit that he felt intimidated. He had chosen a relatively tight tunic as well, dark green in color, for it was his favorite, as well as dark brown trousers and light leather boots, all properly fitted. Trying to regain control of his emotions, he bowed his head to Vahanian and greeted him, with Vahanian replying in kind. He then turned to the weapon rack and immediately went for a particularly light shortsword, which seemed to surprise Vahanian somewhat. Kethan had been considering it, and given the size difference and greater reach of his opponent, he had decided that speed would be his best asset on this match.

He was also surprised when his friend picked dual shortswords, and he wondered what was in Vahanian's mind. It was a very unusual choice, and it required a lot of skill to properly pull through. However, he quickly lost that train of thought when he looked at Vahanian's eyes.

Anger. There was anger in those eyes, and a promise for pain and a swift ending. If that was part of Vahanian's battle mask to intimidate his opponents even more, he could definitely feel it working. He shuffled his weight between his feet, feeling uncomfortable and not sure anymore about the battle. His fighting stance was a dead give away of his chosen tactic for the match, a very neutral and conservative style to simply know Vahanian through the duel. When the arbiter called the start, he barely reacted in time.

Vahanian launched himself like a wounded lion, his strikes just as fast and powerful as Kethan had feared. He was sweating to simply hold his position, and did not dare to even attack for fear of missing a parry. That was why, when Vahanian overextended himself, he launched a punishment strike as fast as his muscles would allow him.

But it wasn't fast enough. Kethan didn't know if Vahanian had tricked him or if his recovery had just been exceptionally swift, but there wasn't much else he could do now but watch. He watched, too slow and weak to react in time, as Vahanian's kick launched him backwards to the ground. He watched, still trying to get on his feet, as Vahanian batted away his sword. He watched, defenseless, as his friend moved past him and slashed downwards, cutting deep in a curve from behind his left shoulder all the way to the side of his lower ribs. With a grunt of pain, Kethan fell forward, darkness coming to welcome him as he embraced his unconsciousness.

When he woke up, his wound bandaged and already under the care of the healers, Kethan could not help but wonder why Vahanian had behaved like that. Goosebumps came when he considered the possibility that it may have been intentional, and he felt the room spin around, covered in sweat, for the many nights it took his wound to become yet another scar.


Balance Returns

Roleplay from Vahanian Blint

Message sent to everyone in Rines (12 recipients) - 21 days, 1 hour, 58 minutes ago

Vahanian still felt bad about the last time he'd met Kethan on the sands. He'd lost control, he'd been off balance, and emotional. He was still grieving, still in pain from the death of his ward, but he was much more in control. Much more reserved. He'd been spending a lot of time in the Arcane libraries beneath the temples. He'd been studying magic tirelessly for the last few weeks. Reading everything and anything he could. He shook his head. "Here and now." he muttered to himself. He took a breath. Began his pre-match ritual once more and waited. Kethan approached and looked nervous.

"My friend." Vahanian said, bowing his head. It wasn't in his nature to apologize, but he sincerely hoped Kethan could understand how much Vahanian regretted wounding his friend. Kethan responded in greeting and Vahanian wondered what thoughts swam behind his friends nearly hazel eyes.

Vahanian indicated to the weapon rack and Kethan walked over, selecting a Hand-and-a-half sword. Something with longer reach and better defensive capabilities. Vahanian raised an eyebrow, not really surprised by the choice, but intrigued. He himself walked over and picked up a Halberd, testing the weight and balance, he put it back, dissatisfied with something, Kethan could only guess at.

Kethan's eyes narrowed and if Vahanian had any doubts that Kethan would fight defensively before, those doubts had now been crushed. He walked back and forth before the weapon rack, and finally selected a rapier and a buckler shield. Vahanian hated shields, but it'd been too long since he'd practiced with one.

The Arbiter was about to call a start to the match when Vahanian raised a hand and said "First blood drawn on the torso, or first to yield." Kethan nodded his agreement to the win conditions and then the Arbiter rung the bell.

Vahanian didn't move. he stood, sideways, facing Kethan, his rapier's point planted in the sand in front of him. A light breeze picked up and billowed out at the fringes of his tunic and trousers. Kethan likewise didn't move. Vahanian smiled, he wanted Kethan to attack, wanted to see how the man moved. He'd been too aggressive in their previous fight and wasn't able to get a measure of the man. Eventually, it became clear Kethan was nervous. Vahanian advanced slowly, defensively. Throwing out the occasional attack to get Kethan to respond. His parry's and counters were technically perfect. Gradually Vahanian picked up the speed as did Kethan. Eventually both men settled into a rhythm, Vahanian felt himself relax as the music of battle overtook his senses. This truly became a display of mastery from both men. Vahanian felt Kethan relax a little as well, he was still defensive and guarded, but he began to loosen as they fought.

Kethan threw a strike at Vahanian and he caught it on the edge of his shield, the metal rim cracking and the sword burrowing into the wood. Vahanian threw his weight away from Kethan and disarmed him. He dislodged the sword from the shield and discarded the shield. Tossing the blade back to his friend, he grinned and settled into a low stance. They began again and the sound of steel clanging against steel echoed throughout the arena, several exchanges later and Vahanian had slipped inside Kethan's guard, he lightly raked his blade against Kethan's torso, just enough to draw blood, before spinning out and leveling his blade towards Kethan. He had judged the strike perfectly, it was as deep as he'd intended - which wasn't very deep. It would heal nicely, and probably wouldn't even scar. The Arbiter called the match in Vahanian's favor and he nodded to his friend. "Well fought, but you fight afraid, and that makes you stiff and slow. Next time." Vahanian said, it was a critique, but also a challenge. He was interested to see how Kethan would respond in their next bought.

– Vahanian Blint


Roleplay from Kethan D'Espana

(Personal message to Vahanian Blint) - 17 days, 20 hours, 42 minutes ago

When Kethan woke up for the second match against Vahanian, he was very, very tempted to simply skip on his compromise, sending a courier with apologies and very believable excuses to the arena on his behalf. He was this close to doing so, but finally got up slowly and carefully, his left side and underside of the shoulder still tender and sore from the last encounter. He couldn't believe Vahanian had gone so hard on him, particularly so out of the blue. And those eyes...

When he arrived to the arena, his pace was considerably slower than the first time. He had even arrived a few minutes late, and tried to greet his friend without showing his nervousness. It probably didn't work.

When he saw Vahanian performing his ritual, he carefully studied the man. He seemed to be somewhat different to the last time, but he could not put a finger on what was it exactly that had changed. When both of them crossed their eyes, he thought he could see a hint of something familiar. Was it remorse? It certainly looked like it.

Still, he didn't completely trust Vahanian as he motioned towards the weapon rack, and he knew what he was going to pick even before his hand closed around the handle of the hand-and-a-half sword. Speed was out of the question, he needed to defend himself from Vahanian's attack. He had considered a shield, but didn't dare to take the loss in visibility and reflexes that would imply. No, a defensive longsword would have to suffice, and he prayed to Obeah that it would be enough to stop Vahanian, at least for a little while.

He watched uneasy as his friend picked different weapons, one of which he wasn't even familiar with. When he picked a halberd, Kethan's eyes narrowed, his mind working at full capacity to imagine all of the disastrous wounds Vahanian could cause him with the polearm. His friend finally settled on a rapier and a buckler shield, and Kethan sighed audibly at the final choice. The shield would make things even harder and the rapier could be a problem, but severe injuries were less likely with the light weapon.

The Arbiter was about to call a start to the match when Vahanian raised a hand and said "First blood drawn on the torso, or first to yield." Kethan nodded his agreement to the win conditions and then the Arbiter rung the bell.

Kethan waited for Vahanian to move. He needed to be ready for the blinding dash of fury and destruction, and he focused as much as he could while trying to resist the urge to retreat. The painful reminder of the last time made itself known in a burst of cold pain, and he could feel it affecting his balance and overall posture. He shifted his weight and realigned himself to cover his left side, the tip of the sword low, both hands on the handle, ready to lift it at a moment's notice.

But Vahanian didn't move. A light breeze picked up, Vahanian's smile inviting him to attack and a clear sign that he was controlling himself this time, but the memories of the last humiliation and the wounds received were still far too fresh for Kethan to feel comfortable. Finally, Vahanian advanced slowly, defensively. Throwing out the occasional attack to get Kethan to respond, though he only managed to get very precise parrys and counters. Gradually Vahanian picked up the speed, as did Kethan. And then, before he knew it, they were fighting.

It was not an equal fight, nor was it a long one, or a particularly memorable one from an objetive point of view. But, this time, they were fighting, Kethan exchanging timid blows and still extremely defensive, relaxing little by little as Vahanian allowed him to really feel the pace of the duel. He could feel it, he wanted to follow, yet still restrained himself in fear of aggravating his wound or receiving a new one. Still, he could feel himself relaxing, and he could also feel much of Vahanian's appreciation and non-verbal apology through the mutual language of the sword.

(Part 1/2)

But everything that begins has to end at some point. Kethan threw a strike at Vahanian and he caught it on the edge of his shield, the metal rim cracking and the sword burrowing into the wood. Vahanian threw his weight away from Kethan and disarmed him, and the smaller man quickly stepped back in anticipation of the punishment strike. However, Vahanian dislodged the sword from the shield and discarded the shield, tossing the blade back to his friend with a grin as he settled into a low stance. That was when Kethan knew for sure that his friend was back, and that whatever the demon was he had fought the other day, it was no more inside Vahanian. Cracking up in laughter as the tension within was released, they began again, and after several exchanges Vahanian had slipped inside Kethan's guard, lightly raking his blade against Kethan's torso just enough to draw blood. The strike was perfectly calculated, and it was a very superficial wound that barely even hurt.

The Arbiter called the match in Vahanian's favor and he nodded to his friend.

- "Well fought, but you fight afraid, and that makes you stiff and slow. Next time."

It was a critique, but also a challenge. Kethan understood immediately the message, and felt greatly relieved after seeing the man he had known for so many years come to the surface again. So afraid, huh? Stiff and slow? That remained to be seen.

- "Just your previous reminder over here preventing me to fight to my full potential, dear Vahanian." - he said, making a quick gesture to his left side. "I will travel shortly to Bym and later on to Brovyl, for both need of my office to hold court over those lordless lands. I will take that time to heal and reflect on what you have taught me. Once I am back, we will fight again. And then I shall show you how a D'Espana wields the sword!"

He nodded back, and let out a small smile.

- "Until then, take care, my friend. Glad to have you back."

(Part 2/2)

– Kethan D'Espana


Warrior's Dance

Roleplay from Vahanian Blint

Message sent to all nobles of Obia'Syela (32 recipients) - 13 days, 3 hours, 41 minutes ago

(Part 1/2)
Vahanian hadn't returned to Rines for very long before hearing rumors about the health and well-being of the Oracle. Some say she'd taken a vow of silence, others say she hadn't recovered from the death of her daughter. Vahanian knew how impacted the Oracle was. He thought back and realized he hadn't seen her since that cursed night.

He thought back to his preaching in the training pits of Grehk. It had helped him organize his thoughts. He then shifted his thoughts to Rania. She was his oldest friend, they had been through far too much together for him to be Okay with her condition. They had spent an insurmountable amount of time together. Counseling one another, planning, building, and creating. They had become very attuned to one anther's moods, habits, and reactions. Vahanian thought back to the Oracle's 60th birthday. The last time he'd felt truly happy. He'd always intended for that dance to be with her, but upon seeing Stheno's eyes light up at the idea, how could he have refused her? In truth, he'd hardly ever been able to refuse her anything. He thought again and realized, that a different kind of dance all-together would be far more fitting for he and Rania.

He picked up a tightly wrapped parcel and made his way through the Basilica. Passing numerous Paladin checkpoints, none of which he was slowed at. They all knew him. They all knew his affection and dedication to the Oracle. As he reached the entrance to the Solarium he was finally stopped. He suppressed a small smile. He'd chosen these guards well. They knew him, and he knew them by name. He knew their families personally. Yet they respected the post enough to challenge everyone who sought entrance regardless of their station. They searched his parcel and raised an eyebrow at him, he smiled at them and winked. "Trust me." He breathed. They nodded, cautiously and one of them entered the Solarium with him.

He crossed the threshold of the trapdoor and his breath caught in his throat. Rania was where he'd expected her to be. On her favored sofa by the glass doors that led to the balcony. The doors were open and a stiff breeze chilled the room. Rania was wearing an obsidian black gown with Obian blue trimming, clearly still in grieving. An opened tome lay in her lap, but the inscriptions remain un-read. Her eyes stared out at the horizon, a dead look on her face. "How long..?" Vahanian asked the Paladin. "Since the night.. hours each day, your grace." Vahanian nodded and Rania finally spoke, "I'm grieving, not dead. Don't speak as if I'm not here.." The Paladin shifted her weight and cleared her throat. Vahanian smiled. He knew her tone was not indicative of her feelings. He walked over to her, depositing his parcel on a table before reaching her. He crouched down in front of her and it took a moment for her eyes to flicker over to his. He grabbed her hand and her skin was cold, no doubt she'd been sitting in the breeze for some time. He searched for words, none that were adequate enough came to him. He looked away still searching. Rania gave his hand a gentle squeeze and he looked back at her. A sad smile that didn't reach her eyes formed on her face. More was conveyed in this look between friends than a thousand words could ever say. Finally Rania said "Vahanian.. I'm fine." Vahanian stood and said "I know, but you still owe me a dance." Vahanian wished he'd been able to see the look on her face, but he was already walking over to his parcel. She stood and was about to say "Vahanian.. I-" She stopped mid-sentence when he drew steel. The Paladin by the door, shifted again, gripping her weapon tighter. Rania recovered and said "I don't want -" Again she was cut-off this time by Vahanian tossing a blade to her. She caught it with practiced ease and he grinned. "Your words say no, but your instincts scream yes." His grin was both amusement and a challenge. In that brief moment he saw fire return to her eyes as she silently acquiesced.

(Part 2/2)

Vahanian spun the blade in his hands, not for show, but to loosen his wrists and arms. Rania likewise rolled her shoulders and neck. Vahanian had never seen Rania fight, let alone fought her himself, but he'd always wanted to, especially after hearing unconfirmed rumors, and whispers of her previous life as a warrior, coupled with how she talked about and understood military tactics. The faded white scars of a life of the sword decorated her hands and arms. Vahanian prided himself on being a quick, and accurate judge of martial skill, but here was a woman who was an anomaly to him - and not just in sword-skill. She always did the unexpected. He removed his cloak and tossed it over a chair. It was cold in the room, but he'd take that over restricted movement any day. Rania's eyes flicked down to his right forearm and his new tattoo. Vahanian crouched down to the floor. Though it was made of marble and adorned with rugs, he would not forgo his ritual. He traced the marble with his fingers and then rubbed his hands together, cupping them and then breathing deeply. He stood and opened his eyes. Looking at Rania, the man that had crouched and the man that had risen were different all together. Rania knew of Vahanian's martial skill well, and she'd even watched him fight on a few occasions, but seeing it from the stands and being face to face were two different beasts all together. To say she was afraid would be inaccurate, Rania trusted Vahanian implicitly and she knew he would never harm her. But in the back of her mind, she understood that the man who stood before her now was a level of dangerous that had been forged in the fires of a lifetime of warfare and combat.

"You still have the option of backing down, old man." Rania purred at Vahanian. He grinned back at her and shook his head. "Not a chance."

When the Paladin finally thumped the butt of her halberd on the ground to call a start to the match. Vahanian wasn't all together prepared for the aggressive nature of Rania's attacks. She launched herself at him with a ferocity and a precision he didn't think possible from someone who looked as frail and delicate as she did. After the first clang of steel on steel Vahanian settled into battle rhythm. Rania kept up her onslaught, strike after strike, was met with counter, parry, and riposte. Vahanian fought defensive at first, he had to. But soon realized this would not be won on defense. He pushed his aggression. There was a very brief lull in the duel and he heard the Paladin actually mutter "By the goddess.." The rest of the statement was lost amongst the sound of steel slashing steel. Vahanian and Rania moved around the Solarium, exchanging blows and counters in near perfect sync. Rania seemed to have the advantage for a long time, until it became clear that her lack of practice with the sword over the last several years would be her downfall. Vahanian saw an opportunity unfold, as he began to understand Rania's fighting style. She was devastatingly fast, and aggressive, and that, he could use. He let her drive him back a bit, and then when she swung at his head, he ducked under the strike, he saw surprise in her eyes as her blade didn't meet the resistance she had anticipated, he swept her legs from under her, sending her to the ground and as he rose he dashed past her and slashed downward, the tip of his blade just barely nicking her stomach. A thin line of blood welled, the cut was just deep enough to draw blood and wouldn't scar. A true testament to his control with a blade.

The Paladin thumped her halberd again, claiming the match at an end. Rania looked up at Vahanian and playfully said "Do you think it wise, to put your Oracle on her ass?" Vahanian offered his hand and helped her up while saying "I do if it helps remind her that she still has something to live for, something to fight for." His tone was light and jovial, but his hazel eyes roared with sincerity. Rania just looked at him for a moment before saying "I must go and find a new gown, this one seems to have a rip in it." Vahanian bowed his head as she turned to leave. Just as she was about to cross the threshold of the trapdoor she turned back and said "Vahanian.. Thank you." He bowed his head to her once more as she left. He wrapped his blades and then stepped onto the balcony, looking out over the holy city.

– Vahanian Blint


Fight To Win

Roleplay from Vahanian Blint - 5 days, 6 hours, 14 minutes ago

Training Match

(Personal message) - 3 days, 8 hours, 42 minutes ago Kethan D'Espana, Grand Inquisitor of Obia'Syela, Count of Melegra meets his challenger Vahanian Blint, Duke of Amen Telum, Margrave of Grehk, Priest of Heralds of Obeah for the agreed training match. Vahanian has decided to use the 'trick moves' strategy while Kethan has chosen the 'aggressive' strategy, giving Kethan the advantage.

After a series of blows, Vahanian wins the training match.

Vahanian stood on the sands of the arena awaiting his friend. He saw Kethan approach and he crouched and began his ritual. He could feel his friend waiting patiently and respectfully for him to finish. He could feel the curiosity in the air as Kethan no doubt studied Vahanian's ritual and wondered after it's purpose.

Vahanian finished and rose to his full height, he nodded and smiled at his friend in greeting before gesturing towards the weapon rack. Kethan walked over and grabbed a short sword, satisfied with the weight and balance he took up his ready position. Vahanian walked over and knew his weapon before selecting it. It was a hand-and-a-half sword. He considered a shield, but decided against it.

He removed his cloak and took up his ready position. Kethan's eyes immediately shot down to Vahanian's right arm, and the tattoo of a large wolf standing over a young panther protectively. Ever the inquisitor, he asked "My friend, if I may inquire as to the meaning and source of your tattoo..?" Vahanian's face went somber for a moment and then he said "Win, and I'll tell you." Kethan grinned and nodded, a look in his eye intrigued Vahanian. He filed it away for future analysis.

The arbiter called the match a start and Kethan launched an aggressive attack against Vahanian. He grinned, "You've been training." Vahanian called out. Kethan continued his attacks, he was fast, much faster than Vahanian had expected. However, Vahanian quickly felt the battle rhythm, it was familiar. He realized it was a lot of technical strikes and techniques from the academy. "Mistake." he thought to himself. He grinned and decided to have a little fun with his friend. As Kethan launched into his forms, Vahanian called them out. "Ford's crossing. Twin Boulders. Dancing Blade?! Ah Heart's folly! Severed Branch. Annnnd there is Graceful Retreat!" He could see Kethan getting flustered. He danced around him and gradually began extending the distance, limiting the effectiveness of Kethan's speed and short sword.

Vahanian began throwing a lot of feints and using tricks of the blade to confuse and irritate Kethan. Kethan rushed forward in a surge of adrenaline and speed, trying to catch Vahanian off-guard. Vahanian had waited and just as quickly, dropped and spun his leg around, sweeping Kethan's feet from under him. He bounced up and dashed over to his friend, and quickly cut a 'V' into his chest, just enough to draw blood, like the last time they fought the wound was superficial and wouldn't scar.

Kethan's eyes were a mixture of adrenaline fueled anger and confusion. Vahanian grinned and offered a hand. "Fight's are rarely fair. You fight with too much honor. Your speed is good, but you're too technical, too predictable. The Swordmasters don't know everything. Use their teachings as a guide, but fight nimbly here." He pointed to Kethan's head and said "As well as here." and clasped his shoulder.

Vahanian put his weapon away and again grew somber. "It's for her." he said, gesturing to his tattoo. "I got the scar protecting her and it only seemed fitting to dedicate it to her." Kethan nodded, his face clearly showing his humble appreciation and the love he too shared for Stheno. "She'd have loved it." Kethan said gently. Vahanian nodded and then cleared his throat and started to leave as he passed his friend he said "Stop using shortswords. You rely on the speed too much, it makes you predictable."

– Vahanian Blint


Roleplay from Kethan D'Espana

Message sent to everyone in Rines (10 recipients) - 4 days, 19 hours, 23 minutes ago

When Kethan arrived to the arena for the third match against his friend, he was feeling much better and far more relaxed than in any of the two previous encounters. Yes, he had lost in both of them, and yes, the first one had seen him receiving a deep wound that still mildly bothered him to this day, but this time he had actually properly prepared for the encounter and was looking forward to it. His friend was already there, and he began his ritual to prepare himself, as he had done all the previous times. Kethan did so as well, closing his eyes and breathing deeply to focus on the upcoming fight. He would have to ask Vahanian one of these days about the ritual and his meaning, but this was not the right time.

Even before Vahanian gestured towards the weapon rack, Kethan already know what he would do. It would be a shortsword, fast and nimble like no other weapon in his hands. He still was convinced that speed was the key to defeat Vahanian. His friend had the size, the weight, the reach, the strenght and the experience, but he himself had trained for his entire life with speed as the key to ensure victory. Shorter than most, swift movements were his best weapons against usually larger opponents.

Vahanian chose a hand-and-a-half sword, lethal in his hands, but Kethan would not let his friend intimidate him today. His muscles were still tender from all the training in the academy, and he was dying to put them to good use. Then, when Vahanian got ready to fight and he was about to begin the duel, he saw the tattoo on his right arm as he put his cloak aside. Was it... a wolf? And that was... a panther?

A deep shiver crawled over his skin, all the way from the base of his neck to the toes of his feet. He asked about it immediately, but Vahanian challenged him to win in order to learn the answer. Something in his face told him that he already knew the answer. Shaking his head to shield himself from strange thoughts that began creeping on his mind, he filed it away for future analysis. Very well, he would win and force Vahanian to tell him.

When the arbiter signaled for the beginning of the match, Kethan launched himself immediately on the offensive, putting to good use his recently learnt movements in a quite aggressive display of furious strikes. However, Vahanian was not caught by surprise. When the old devil started calling his moves, sometimes even before he himself had decided which one to use, he started to feel the pressure. This was not he had imagined the fight going, and he could already feel his stamina depleting after the very intense start of the fighting cadence. Vahanian was tiring him out, and doing so extremely effectively, with lots of parries, dodges and feints that consumed far less energy than Kethan was using with his deep thrusts and lightning-fast strikes.

It was then that Vahanian started to put even more space between them, thus completely negating Kethan's attempts to attack through his staunch defense and superior reach, and using even more trick moves in an attempt to confuse and irritate him. But Kethan was not going to allow his friend get away from his defeat this time. Third time's the charm, and he was here to prove Vahanian that he was a good fighter himself. Waiting until the proper moment, Kethan sprung forward in an impressive surge of adreline and speed, that would have surely overpowered a less experienced opponent.

But not Vahanian. Instead of parrying or dodging the savage combination of blows, which would have been a challenge even for him, he simply dropped and spun his leg around, thus dropping Kethan to the floor and promptly ending the fight with a quick "V" on Kethan's chest. The younger man felt the shock running through his brain, almost offended that Vahanian hadn't let him finish his maneuver. It was a fantastic combo he had just mastered not even a week ago! The instructor had fallen under his blows every single time he had tried it. How could Vahanian have done that? Such a low blow, such a filthy tactic for such an experienced swordsmaster as him...

Kethan barely managed to listen to Vahanian's advice, blood still rushing through his veins in a deeply unsatisfied manner for the abrupt ending of the fight. Finally accepting Vahanian's hand, he got a look on his new tattoo again, and he felt the same deep shiver he had felt at the beginning of the fight. His anger suddenly forgotten, he listened to Vahanian's explanation, and nodded in the appreciation for the gesture to her beloved former pupil. He could feel a knot on his throat and a heavy weight in his heart, and simply stated that Stheno would have loved the tattoo. He did not feel ready to say anything else, nor was it needed.

Vahanian nodded, and gave Kethan the last bit of advice of the day before passing him and walking away. Kethan followed him soon after. Next time.

– Kethan D'Espana


Exercise The Body, Strengthen The Spirit


Two Pillars, One Temple

Roleplay from Vahanian Blint

Message sent to all nobles of Obia'Syela (32 recipients) - 11 days, 17 hours, 45 minutes ago

Vahanian stood in a training circle beneath the streets of Rines. The halls he walked today were that of the old Templar Nexus - still used by the members of the order located in Rines. He was working through some forms with a rapier when he noticed some hushed voices and poor attempts at subtlety from some younger members of the order. He ignored them at first, this was commonplace when he was training in a relatively open space. After the hush voices didn't dissipate, he tried shooting glances towards them that were intended to remind the younglings that they had chores to do.

Several minutes later, Vahanian stopped mid-form. His sudden pause caused the reaction he'd hoped for. Silence. His audience was silent, curious as to why he stopped. He whirled around and bellowed at them. 'STAND FRONT AND CENTER. ALL OF YOU.' All but one hurried forward, most unsure what was happening, but too scared to disobey. Only one tried to slink away during the commotion. Vahanian pulled a knife from his belt and threw it, it embedded into the wood of the door next to the young Templar's hand. 'Front and center.' He said. The young Templar turned, his face white with fear, and hurried to join the line of young Templar.

"Since all of you seem far more interested in watching me train than performing your duties or tending to your studies.. Perhaps your time is best learning something." Vahanian handed each of them a wooden stave and he himself held one as well. He stood before all 12 of them and gestured to a bell on the other side of the room, and said "Ring the bell before this hourglass fills and you all get to skip tomorrow's chores and lessons. Don't ring the bell in time and.... well let's keep that a surprise." Vahanian flipped the hour glass and spun to face the 12 Templar. They surged forward each eager on being the one to ring the bell. Some tried to run right by them, they met the stone floor with great speed and about as much grace as one might expect. With 3 Templar down, he had only 9 to go. 2 of them hadn't moved, still shocked and probably scared, the other 7 were surging towards Vahanian intent on barreling through him. He grinned and danced among them like wind through reeds, in mere moments they were moaning on the ground or tangled among each other egos bruised more than their bodies. He turned to the final two and simply walked over to them, and said "Boo!" they dropped their staves right away.

He chuckled and ordered everyone to their feet. Pointed to three and said 'Attack.' They rushed at him one at a time, foolishly, and he swatted away their attacks and provided them with bruises or headaches as reminders all the while lecturing to the others. "Fight with your mind, not your heart. Dying in battle wont grant you any more glory than dying in the arms of a lover. Dying stupidly is a waste of life, and we do not waste lives. We are Obeah's chosen warriors." He made an emphasis on his words with swings of his stave against the young Templar. He pointed to three more and said "Attack." They did so. "We operate in the light, Inquisitors do not. We are the shields that guard the faithful. We are the swords that defend the faith. We are the spears that pierce the hearts of Obeah's enemies. We are the front line, We are the back line, We are the only line." He pointed to three more and said "Attack." They also, did as commanded. "We are guardians and warriors, we are sentinels and soldiers, we are priests and nobles, we are the faithful, but we are not stupid or wasteful. Never go for the flashy kill, never give the enemy an advantage. Don't assume an enemy is dead until they are. Never wait for the perfect strike on an enemy when 5, or 10, or 20, or 100 will kill him just as effectively, and far more quickly." He pointed the final 3 and said "Attack." They did. "We are the flame that fights back the darkness. We are strong when others are weak. We defend the journey of the faithful. We are Templar, and we will kill all who stand in our way."

He ended his final statement by sweeping the legs of the only Templar who was still standing. He pinned the boy down with his stave and then released his grip, allowing the boy to move.

"Templars start again at dawn.... Others do not." Vahanian called, before returning to his private chambers in the Nexus.

– Vahanian Blint




Ecstasy In Grehk


You carefully work the ritual inscribed on your scroll of Ecstasy.

You carefully perform the ritual described on the scroll, and when it finishes, you wait expectantly for something to happen. Nothing seems to. Disappointed, you clean up the area where you performed the ritual and start to head home, when you pass a comely peasant, and feel a sudden stirring of lust. By the time you have made it back, you have seen—and heard—many unmistakable signs that the scroll is working.

Population Boom in Grehk just in Your seneschal brings you word of an inexplicable population boom in Grehk. 689 babies have apparently been born recently.

– Ecstasy Spell Casting


Roleplay from Vahanian Blint

Message sent to all nobles of Obia'Syela (36 recipients) - just in

Vahanian could feel the magic emanating from the scroll case he carried. It made his arm, and tattoo tingle. He walked through the halls of the White Citadel until he came to the stair that led to the rooftop gardens. He wound his way through the carefully tended paths and found the outcrop of the garden where he'd tried spell-casting once before. He was entirely alone, save for his chief advisor, Baldwin, who stood back and said nothing. He was a little more familiar with the process this time around, having witnessed the Oracle handle more magic than he though possible and still demand more.

He lit the braziers with the torch, discarding it in the fourth brazier and readied himself. He removed his thick cloak and placed the scroll case in front of him. He studied it, mentally picking it up and examining it in his mind. He wanted to do this right, the people of Grehk needed this. He remembered Rania starting to sing, and he remembered her voice guided his own to the right resonance. He tried that again, only it didn't feel right, didn't feel the same. He was about to proceed anyway when something deep within his mind stopped him. He needed to focus. He drew his sword and sat down, taking a whetstone and running it along the blade in a careful and methodical manner. The sound of the stone on the steel was oddly calming to him, the sound it made resonated with him, he began to try to match the tone with his own humming. When he felt he was hitting the right resonance with both whetstone and humming he closed his eyes, and reached out with his mind, his will, and his spirit. He could feel himself reach out towards the scroll, and was suddenly thrown about in the tumultuous storm of sounds and resonances, it was too much, to messy. He couldn't find the order to it. He relaxed, and let go. Retreating, in his mind, back to the whetstone and his humming.

He just relaxed, waiting, for the right resonance to come. He decided to take the scroll from it's case, but not unfurl it just yet. Looking at the magic infused parchment he was filled with memories, emotions, and pain. It made him think of Stheno. His heartbeat quickened and he could feel his face redden with anger and sadness. He didn't fight the emotion. He let it in, but slowly, methodically, and carefully. In his mind, he placed each emotion in his place. The ferocity of his anger, the pain of his sadness, the rawness of his regret.

He gripped the hilt of his sword tighter until his knuckles went white, and he hummed. Then it hit him all at once, the power of the magic swarmed to his call, but not as sound. As color. He saw the hues of red, and pink, and orange, and undertones of blue. He stood and grabbed the scroll with his left hand and holding onto his sword with his right. He began reciting the enchantment, each word sparked a different color in his mind, Orange, pink, red, blue, red, red, red, pink, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, orange, pink, pink, orange, orange, blue, blue and finally. White.

He pierced the scroll with his blade as he recited the last enchantment and it burst into flames. He slammed it to the stones he stood upon and held it there. Concentrating on the emotions and the colors that flooded his mind. Willing them into and through his body. His tattoo burned, his vision went white as he became the focal point for the magic that swirled around him. He released that energy directing out and up and over his beloved city, he choked out a sob as the last of the energy released from his body and he gasped for air. The scroll sputtered out, charred and expended, and Vahanian was filled with a sense of failure. He grew weary, and felt totally drained. He needed food, and he needed sleep. As he stood, sheathed his sword and started the trek back to his chambers, he wandered through the halls of the White Citadel. He needed to think before he rested.

As he walked through the halls of the citadel, he started to feel at peace. It was subtle. He relaxed a bit more, and turned a corner he very clearly got the smell of lilies and lavender. It reminded him of Katerina. He kept wandering through the halls and as he turned back towards his chambers, he caught sight of her standing in the doorway, beckoning him to join him in their chambers. He felt his heart skip a beat, as he saw her in all her beauty. The curls of her black hair, the shinning emerald green eyes that made him feel totally vulnerable and totally safe at the same time. The sweet, pure innocent joy in her laugh, and the nearly blinding brilliance and infectiousness of her smile. He was filled with so much love, so much desire, and so much longing for her. She faded from view and he turned around looking for her not ready for her to leave. He turned back towards his chamber doors, but she was gone. He was faced with just the sturdy oak door and the joys of his memories of her.

– Vahanian Blint


Keffa's Ritual


Roleplay from Vahanian Blint

Message sent to everyone in Keffa (96 recipients)

The Square

Vahanian looked across the square at those assembled, they'd been standing around for what felt like days. The crowd was growing ever larger as more people filed into his city. Vahanian reached his limit. He'd had enough waiting. "To hell with this." He muttered and he dismounted from his horse and shouldered his way through the line of Obian soldiers. "Oh Son of a bit-" the swear of Baldwin, Vahanian's captain of the guard, was drowned out by the thudding in Vahanian's ears. He muscled his way into the center of the square. His soldiers streaming after him, both equally excited at the prospect of combat, and worried that Vahanian was about to do something horrendously reckless and dangerous. Vahanian headed directly towards the group of Vordul soldiers guarding the ritual.

"Move aside." Vahanian said, his voice dripping with a calm fury and controlled lethality. As he approached threshold of Vordul blood magic, his arm seared in pain. It felt like he was reaching into the depths of hell's core and trying to return unscathed. No physical representation of the burning pain was on his arm, but in his head, it felt like he'd just been thrown into lava.

Vahanian glowered at the force rallied against him as he saw and then proceed to call upon the one he once called ally. The defiler. "You'll do." he said, the challenge in his voice clear. He spit in front of the Vordul forces and declared: "Godfrey Greybrook! You're a disgrace to the Greybrook name. Ferdinand was twice the man you could ever dream of being. You're a cancerous filth that needs to be purged from this world."

Godfrey rushed stepped foreward, placing himself directly in Vahanian's path and between the duke and Poli, his eyes darting between the approaching Vahanian and the edge of the circle, clearly wondering what effect an interruption could have on the ritual. He gripped his ritual dagger tightly and stepped forward barring entry to the ritual circle and placing himself between Vahanian and Poli. Vahanian snorted as he paced back and forth across from the priest.

Hatred of his own, poured from Godfrey's body language. The animosity in the air was almost as palpable as the magic that fluttered around the square. He accepted the challenge.

For someone of his age, Vahanian moved with surprising speed and agility. He launched forward, like a panther pouncing on it's prey, and struck with the ferocity of a wolf bringing down a kill. Godfrey brought his dagger up just in time to prevent himself from being decapitated. Vahanian was relentless in his attacks, toying with Godfrey, striking hard and fast, but drawing out the panic in his opponent. He seemed to relish the fear in Godfrey's eyes. The fear and realization that he might not live to see this ritual complete. That his work thus far would be for naught. To the priest's credit, he held his ground. He defended as best he could, clearly having had some training with the sword, but his technique was lacking. The life of a priest often led to a lackluster skill with the sword.

(1/2)

– Vahanian Blint


Roleplay from Vahanian Blint Player

Message sent to everyone in Keffa (96 recipients) - 7 days, 17 hours, 19 minutes ago

The Square

All things must end, and so to did the brief bout. Vahanian parried inside of Godfrey's excuse for a guard, he battered the dagger out of Godfrey's grasp, sending it skittering across the square towards the ritual circle. Vahanian slammed the pommel of his sword into Godfrey's temple, dazing him as he grabbed the lapel of his robes and swept his feet from under him. Landing with his knee on the priest's chest and his blade pressed against Godfrey's throat, he looked into the eyes of a heathen with pure, unadulterated hatred

With an almost euphoria in his eyes, Godfrey began leaning into to sword, teasing the blade to cut the skin on his, almost begging through gasps "Do it old man… Kill me… Do my cousin proud… Everything you have loved has died… All for your bitch Obeah… Do it!"

Vahanian was just about to end the priest's life when he heard Kethan's voice calmly say "Vahanian.. don't. It's a blood ritual." Vahanian looked over and saw the Inquisitor, one of his oldest friends, standing there, looking as if he'd spent the last 6 weeks constantly awake, with his face burried in tomes. He was passively watching the events with a scholar's eye. Vahanian stayed his blade, but gave the opportunity for Godfrey to react. As he got up suddenly, Godfrey pressed his ear against the sharp weapon and like an animal saw his ear removed from his head in an attempt to escape.

Reacting instantly on instinct and to the horror, Vahanian grabbed Godfrey by the throat, squeezing, he pressed Godfrey's head into the stone street and stared down at the priest with utter hatred before he whispered. "I'll be seeing you again." He stood, and released Godfrey in one swift motion, wathcing Godfrey as he scampered off to collect the remnants of his ear as blood poured unto the stone below. Vahanian, sheathing his sword and returning to his horse, muttered to Kethan. "This needs to end."

(2/2)

– Vahanian Blint

Vahanian.JPG


A Path Through Time

The Early Years:

Vahanian Blint, brother to Leatho and Lillian. He began his career as a noble in Madina, but quickly joined the realm of Aurvandil. After proving himself a capable commander and natural leader he was appointed Duke of the Margrivate of Tower Fatmilak and named the Arbiter of Justice. He spent many years in these positions, but eventually, the weight of war and the combined forces of the enemies of Aurvandil led him to leave Dwilight in shame. He spent several years as a reaver, pirate, and mercenary until he met Katerina. He fell in love with her immediately and she with him.

Life in the North:

He gave up his ignoble ways for her and made a home for them in the North of Beluterra, among the people of Thalmarkin. He spent years with her, serving as a lord of the Wailing Woods and a protector of its people. During the 6th Daimon invasion of Beluterra, he took command of a large force of Thalmarkin soldiers. They proved to be extremely effective in combat, and with wills made of iron. In an attempt to destroy him, a Daimon Warband kidnapped Katerina, and Vahanian's firstborn daughter, Ellaria. Vahanian was soon captured as well, he spent weeks at the hands of the Daimons, as did his family. They did not survive imprisonment. When Vahanian escaped, he and 10 other Northmen hunted that Warband for months. Eventually finding it and Vahanian killed its leader in battle. After the invasion ended, Vahanian secluded himself from the world, sequestering himself away in the northern mountains of Thalmarkin.

A New Oath:

Vahanian had been growing tired of the internal politics in Thalmarkin, he felt the ruling council had lost sight of the true vision and purpose of the Northernmost realm on Beluterra. When he heard his older brother and only living sibling, Leatho had sworn himself and their family to House JeVondair, Vahanian was intrigued. He soon learned that there was a southern Queen, a Rania Eastersand JeVondair, whom had issued a call to arms for any nobles looking for a life to dedicate themselves to. With the loss of his family, and his waning patience for the politics of Thalmarkin, Vahanian answered the call. He was soon after tasked with Traveling to the Shattered Vales and establishing a foothold there alongside a man he'd never met. Kethan D'Espana. At their first meeting the two men established a friendship that would persist through time and distance.


Baptism By Fire:

Train The Sword, Sharpen The Mind


Grief Devours Reason

Roleplay from Vahanian Blint Message sent to all nobles in Rines (9 recipients) - 15 days, 22 hours, 53 minutes ago

Vahanian waited on the sands of the arena. This particular arena was one that he'd ordered constructed during his time as steward and all the workers in this section were rather fond of him. They afforded him private use of their sands whenever he asked.

Today Vahanian felt neutral. His emotions had been in flux since Stheno's death, most days he was submerged beneath the waves of grief and pain, but today he felt oddly in control. Perhaps the anticipation of friendly competition with an old friend was lifting his spirits. Vahanian saw a figure approach from the other side of the Arena, he recognized the outline as Kethan and then he began his pre-match ritual. He crouched down and picked up a handful of the sand from the arena and smelled it, breathing in the scent of the grains. He rubbed his hands together letting the sand fall between his palms and back to the ground, before clapping once and removing any excess sand.

He stood, he was slightly taller than average at about 6 feet high, he wore a sleeveless, form fitting tunic. His arms were decorated with the tell tale signs of a swordsmen. Scattered white scars of mistakes and battles won and lost adorned his muscles. His hair was tied back in a loose braid with a black sateen ribbon. He wore dark trousers and leather boots. A weapon rack was off to the side that held an assortment of weaponry.

Kethan approached and bowed his head to Vahanian. "Good to see you, my friend." Vahanian bowed his head and responded in kind. He gestured to the weapon rack and allowed Kethan to select his weapon first. Vahanian was a bit surprised that Kethan went for the short sword. Vahanian towered over his friend by nearly a foot, he had a greater reach and he hadn't been frail and close to death a few days ago.

The thought of Kethan's recovery brought back a flood of emotions, Vahanian fought them with all his might. He fought the irrationality that crept into his brain. He hated the irrational, it had no place here, it only served to cause things to be unorganized and disorderly. Vahanian hated those things, but despite his best efforts he couldn't keep a thought from pervading his mind, he couldn't help but think that if not for Kethan, Stheno might still be alive. He walked over to the weapon rack and grabbed twin short swords. He wasn't in full control of himself and that only fueled his anger.

The two friends squared off. With a practiced eye Vahanian read the battle on Kethan, he could smell it, taste it, hear it. Today it sung of cowardice. Today it tasted of neutrality. Today it smelled of caution. Today it looked like fear.

The arbiter of the match called the start and Vahanian launched his attack. Baldwin watched in great anticipation. He loved watching his master fight. With short swords Vahanian usually started slow, but today was different. Baldwin was shocked at the aggressiveness of Vahanian's attacks. Kethan held his own, for a time. But the sheer force and onslaught of Vahanian's attacks were causing him to tire. There was a moment when it appeared as though Vahanian had overextended himself, and Kethan was surprisingly fast. He countered and slashed at Vahanian. The clang of steel was the first indicator of who was going to win.

Kethan had chosen short swords because he thought speed would be his advantage. He clearly didn't know Vahanian's own personal affinity for short swords. They were, arguably, his favorite and best weapon, and it showed. Kethan and Vahanian locked blades for a brief moment, until Vahanian kicked Kethan square in the chest. Launching the man backwards. He recovered well, which spoke volumes to his experience as a soldier. But Vahanian was not deterred. He moved in while Kethan was still on his knees, and batted away his sword. Vahanian moved past Kethan and slashed downwards, harder than he'd meant to and cut deeper than he meant to. Kethan grunted and fell forward. The Arbiter called the match Vahanian's victory, but as soon as Vahanian saw the blood pooling on the sand, he felt like anything but a victor.

The Arbiter rushed forward and Vahanian was still in the throws of his emotions. This time he was overcome with shame and dishonor. He leveled his blade at the Arbiter, the point just touching his throat and through gritted teeth said "I will see to him." The Arbiter swallowed, hands outstretched to show he meant no harm and backed away.

"Baldwin! The Healers!" Vahanian barked. Baldwin nodded and hurried off. Vahanian knelt next to his unconscious friend and lowered his head. mumbling under his breath. He cut a strip of tunic off with a blade and wrapped it as tightly as he could around Kethan's torso, giving him a makeshift bandage. "Forgive me, old friend. I'm not yet myself." Vahanian whispered to Kethan.


Roleplay from Kethan D'Espana

(Personal message to Vahanian Blint) - 10 days, 23 hours, 17 minutes ago

It was the day.

When sunrise came, Kethan was already preparing himself. Today was the day he would be fighting Vahanian for the first time. The past few weeks since Stheno's death had been a roller coaster of emotions, ebbing and flowing between the downs of reflection and memories and the ups of excitement and challenges since he had been chosen Grand Inquisitor.

Once he was ready, he took a deep breath and began walking towards the arena where Vahanian had suggested to meet. It was very early, but the streets of Rines were already alive with the movement of peasants, traders and artisans as they got ready to begin their work. He had no problem finding the fighting grounds, and he saw his old friend waiting for him when he entered the place.

As he walked towards him, he saw Vahanian crouching and picking some sand, probably some sort of ritualistic preparation for the match. He waited for him to finish, and closed his eyes to mentally prepare as well. When he opened them, Vahanian was already standing up, and Kethan's anticipation for the fight began waning a little. Vahanian was much taller than him, at least a foot if not more, and the old man was considerably heavier and more robust as well. He knew that, of course, but he hadn't had to fight him before, and he could feel his nerves flaring up when considering the likely outcome of the match. It didn't help to know the reputation Vahanian had, a proficient master of the blade and probably much more skilled than he was after so many years without practicing.

Kethan couldn't also avoid looking at Vahanian's arms, covered in the many scars of previous fights. He had his fair share of battle marks, most of them coming from Daimons during the last Invasion, but he had to admit that he felt intimidated. He had chosen a relatively tight tunic as well, dark green in color, for it was his favorite, as well as dark brown trousers and light leather boots, all properly fitted. Trying to regain control of his emotions, he bowed his head to Vahanian and greeted him, with Vahanian replying in kind. He then turned to the weapon rack and immediately went for a particularly light shortsword, which seemed to surprise Vahanian somewhat. Kethan had been considering it, and given the size difference and greater reach of his opponent, he had decided that speed would be his best asset on this match.

He was also surprised when his friend picked dual shortswords, and he wondered what was in Vahanian's mind. It was a very unusual choice, and it required a lot of skill to properly pull through. However, he quickly lost that train of thought when he looked at Vahanian's eyes.

Anger. There was anger in those eyes, and a promise for pain and a swift ending. If that was part of Vahanian's battle mask to intimidate his opponents even more, he could definitely feel it working. He shuffled his weight between his feet, feeling uncomfortable and not sure anymore about the battle. His fighting stance was a dead give away of his chosen tactic for the match, a very neutral and conservative style to simply know Vahanian through the duel. When the arbiter called the start, he barely reacted in time.

Vahanian launched himself like a wounded lion, his strikes just as fast and powerful as Kethan had feared. He was sweating to simply hold his position, and did not dare to even attack for fear of missing a parry. That was why, when Vahanian overextended himself, he launched a punishment strike as fast as his muscles would allow him.

But it wasn't fast enough. Kethan didn't know if Vahanian had tricked him or if his recovery had just been exceptionally swift, but there wasn't much else he could do now but watch. He watched, too slow and weak to react in time, as Vahanian's kick launched him backwards to the ground. He watched, still trying to get on his feet, as Vahanian batted away his sword. He watched, defenseless, as his friend moved past him and slashed downwards, cutting deep in a curve from behind his left shoulder all the way to the side of his lower ribs. With a grunt of pain, Kethan fell forward, darkness coming to welcome him as he embraced his unconsciousness.

When he woke up, his wound bandaged and already under the care of the healers, Kethan could not help but wonder why Vahanian had behaved like that. Goosebumps came when he considered the possibility that it may have been intentional, and he felt the room spin around, covered in sweat, for the many nights it took his wound to become yet another scar.


Balance Returns

Roleplay from Vahanian Blint

Message sent to everyone in Rines (12 recipients) - 21 days, 1 hour, 58 minutes ago

Vahanian still felt bad about the last time he'd met Kethan on the sands. He'd lost control, he'd been off balance, and emotional. He was still grieving, still in pain from the death of his ward, but he was much more in control. Much more reserved. He'd been spending a lot of time in the Arcane libraries beneath the temples. He'd been studying magic tirelessly for the last few weeks. Reading everything and anything he could. He shook his head. "Here and now." he muttered to himself. He took a breath. Began his pre-match ritual once more and waited. Kethan approached and looked nervous.

"My friend." Vahanian said, bowing his head. It wasn't in his nature to apologize, but he sincerely hoped Kethan could understand how much Vahanian regretted wounding his friend. Kethan responded in greeting and Vahanian wondered what thoughts swam behind his friends nearly hazel eyes.

Vahanian indicated to the weapon rack and Kethan walked over, selecting a Hand-and-a-half sword. Something with longer reach and better defensive capabilities. Vahanian raised an eyebrow, not really surprised by the choice, but intrigued. He himself walked over and picked up a Halberd, testing the weight and balance, he put it back, dissatisfied with something, Kethan could only guess at.

Kethan's eyes narrowed and if Vahanian had any doubts that Kethan would fight defensively before, those doubts had now been crushed. He walked back and forth before the weapon rack, and finally selected a rapier and a buckler shield. Vahanian hated shields, but it'd been too long since he'd practiced with one.

The Arbiter was about to call a start to the match when Vahanian raised a hand and said "First blood drawn on the torso, or first to yield." Kethan nodded his agreement to the win conditions and then the Arbiter rung the bell.

Vahanian didn't move. he stood, sideways, facing Kethan, his rapier's point planted in the sand in front of him. A light breeze picked up and billowed out at the fringes of his tunic and trousers. Kethan likewise didn't move. Vahanian smiled, he wanted Kethan to attack, wanted to see how the man moved. He'd been too aggressive in their previous fight and wasn't able to get a measure of the man. Eventually, it became clear Kethan was nervous. Vahanian advanced slowly, defensively. Throwing out the occasional attack to get Kethan to respond. His parry's and counters were technically perfect. Gradually Vahanian picked up the speed as did Kethan. Eventually both men settled into a rhythm, Vahanian felt himself relax as the music of battle overtook his senses. This truly became a display of mastery from both men. Vahanian felt Kethan relax a little as well, he was still defensive and guarded, but he began to loosen as they fought.

Kethan threw a strike at Vahanian and he caught it on the edge of his shield, the metal rim cracking and the sword burrowing into the wood. Vahanian threw his weight away from Kethan and disarmed him. He dislodged the sword from the shield and discarded the shield. Tossing the blade back to his friend, he grinned and settled into a low stance. They began again and the sound of steel clanging against steel echoed throughout the arena, several exchanges later and Vahanian had slipped inside Kethan's guard, he lightly raked his blade against Kethan's torso, just enough to draw blood, before spinning out and leveling his blade towards Kethan. He had judged the strike perfectly, it was as deep as he'd intended - which wasn't very deep. It would heal nicely, and probably wouldn't even scar. The Arbiter called the match in Vahanian's favor and he nodded to his friend. "Well fought, but you fight afraid, and that makes you stiff and slow. Next time." Vahanian said, it was a critique, but also a challenge. He was interested to see how Kethan would respond in their next bought.

– Vahanian Blint


Roleplay from Kethan D'Espana

(Personal message to Vahanian Blint) - 17 days, 20 hours, 42 minutes ago

When Kethan woke up for the second match against Vahanian, he was very, very tempted to simply skip on his compromise, sending a courier with apologies and very believable excuses to the arena on his behalf. He was this close to doing so, but finally got up slowly and carefully, his left side and underside of the shoulder still tender and sore from the last encounter. He couldn't believe Vahanian had gone so hard on him, particularly so out of the blue. And those eyes...

When he arrived to the arena, his pace was considerably slower than the first time. He had even arrived a few minutes late, and tried to greet his friend without showing his nervousness. It probably didn't work.

When he saw Vahanian performing his ritual, he carefully studied the man. He seemed to be somewhat different to the last time, but he could not put a finger on what was it exactly that had changed. When both of them crossed their eyes, he thought he could see a hint of something familiar. Was it remorse? It certainly looked like it.

Still, he didn't completely trust Vahanian as he motioned towards the weapon rack, and he knew what he was going to pick even before his hand closed around the handle of the hand-and-a-half sword. Speed was out of the question, he needed to defend himself from Vahanian's attack. He had considered a shield, but didn't dare to take the loss in visibility and reflexes that would imply. No, a defensive longsword would have to suffice, and he prayed to Obeah that it would be enough to stop Vahanian, at least for a little while.

He watched uneasy as his friend picked different weapons, one of which he wasn't even familiar with. When he picked a halberd, Kethan's eyes narrowed, his mind working at full capacity to imagine all of the disastrous wounds Vahanian could cause him with the polearm. His friend finally settled on a rapier and a buckler shield, and Kethan sighed audibly at the final choice. The shield would make things even harder and the rapier could be a problem, but severe injuries were less likely with the light weapon.

The Arbiter was about to call a start to the match when Vahanian raised a hand and said "First blood drawn on the torso, or first to yield." Kethan nodded his agreement to the win conditions and then the Arbiter rung the bell.

Kethan waited for Vahanian to move. He needed to be ready for the blinding dash of fury and destruction, and he focused as much as he could while trying to resist the urge to retreat. The painful reminder of the last time made itself known in a burst of cold pain, and he could feel it affecting his balance and overall posture. He shifted his weight and realigned himself to cover his left side, the tip of the sword low, both hands on the handle, ready to lift it at a moment's notice.

But Vahanian didn't move. A light breeze picked up, Vahanian's smile inviting him to attack and a clear sign that he was controlling himself this time, but the memories of the last humiliation and the wounds received were still far too fresh for Kethan to feel comfortable. Finally, Vahanian advanced slowly, defensively. Throwing out the occasional attack to get Kethan to respond, though he only managed to get very precise parrys and counters. Gradually Vahanian picked up the speed, as did Kethan. And then, before he knew it, they were fighting.

It was not an equal fight, nor was it a long one, or a particularly memorable one from an objetive point of view. But, this time, they were fighting, Kethan exchanging timid blows and still extremely defensive, relaxing little by little as Vahanian allowed him to really feel the pace of the duel. He could feel it, he wanted to follow, yet still restrained himself in fear of aggravating his wound or receiving a new one. Still, he could feel himself relaxing, and he could also feel much of Vahanian's appreciation and non-verbal apology through the mutual language of the sword.

(Part 1/2)

But everything that begins has to end at some point. Kethan threw a strike at Vahanian and he caught it on the edge of his shield, the metal rim cracking and the sword burrowing into the wood. Vahanian threw his weight away from Kethan and disarmed him, and the smaller man quickly stepped back in anticipation of the punishment strike. However, Vahanian dislodged the sword from the shield and discarded the shield, tossing the blade back to his friend with a grin as he settled into a low stance. That was when Kethan knew for sure that his friend was back, and that whatever the demon was he had fought the other day, it was no more inside Vahanian. Cracking up in laughter as the tension within was released, they began again, and after several exchanges Vahanian had slipped inside Kethan's guard, lightly raking his blade against Kethan's torso just enough to draw blood. The strike was perfectly calculated, and it was a very superficial wound that barely even hurt.

The Arbiter called the match in Vahanian's favor and he nodded to his friend.

- "Well fought, but you fight afraid, and that makes you stiff and slow. Next time."

It was a critique, but also a challenge. Kethan understood immediately the message, and felt greatly relieved after seeing the man he had known for so many years come to the surface again. So afraid, huh? Stiff and slow? That remained to be seen.

- "Just your previous reminder over here preventing me to fight to my full potential, dear Vahanian." - he said, making a quick gesture to his left side. "I will travel shortly to Bym and later on to Brovyl, for both need of my office to hold court over those lordless lands. I will take that time to heal and reflect on what you have taught me. Once I am back, we will fight again. And then I shall show you how a D'Espana wields the sword!"

He nodded back, and let out a small smile.

- "Until then, take care, my friend. Glad to have you back."

(Part 2/2)

– Kethan D'Espana


Warrior's Dance

Roleplay from Vahanian Blint

Message sent to all nobles of Obia'Syela (32 recipients) - 13 days, 3 hours, 41 minutes ago

(Part 1/2)
Vahanian hadn't returned to Rines for very long before hearing rumors about the health and well-being of the Oracle. Some say she'd taken a vow of silence, others say she hadn't recovered from the death of her daughter. Vahanian knew how impacted the Oracle was. He thought back and realized he hadn't seen her since that cursed night.

He thought back to his preaching in the training pits of Grehk. It had helped him organize his thoughts. He then shifted his thoughts to Rania. She was his oldest friend, they had been through far too much together for him to be Okay with her condition. They had spent an insurmountable amount of time together. Counseling one another, planning, building, and creating. They had become very attuned to one anther's moods, habits, and reactions. Vahanian thought back to the Oracle's 60th birthday. The last time he'd felt truly happy. He'd always intended for that dance to be with her, but upon seeing Stheno's eyes light up at the idea, how could he have refused her? In truth, he'd hardly ever been able to refuse her anything. He thought again and realized, that a different kind of dance all-together would be far more fitting for he and Rania.

He picked up a tightly wrapped parcel and made his way through the Basilica. Passing numerous Paladin checkpoints, none of which he was slowed at. They all knew him. They all knew his affection and dedication to the Oracle. As he reached the entrance to the Solarium he was finally stopped. He suppressed a small smile. He'd chosen these guards well. They knew him, and he knew them by name. He knew their families personally. Yet they respected the post enough to challenge everyone who sought entrance regardless of their station. They searched his parcel and raised an eyebrow at him, he smiled at them and winked. "Trust me." He breathed. They nodded, cautiously and one of them entered the Solarium with him.

He crossed the threshold of the trapdoor and his breath caught in his throat. Rania was where he'd expected her to be. On her favored sofa by the glass doors that led to the balcony. The doors were open and a stiff breeze chilled the room. Rania was wearing an obsidian black gown with Obian blue trimming, clearly still in grieving. An opened tome lay in her lap, but the inscriptions remain un-read. Her eyes stared out at the horizon, a dead look on her face. "How long..?" Vahanian asked the Paladin. "Since the night.. hours each day, your grace." Vahanian nodded and Rania finally spoke, "I'm grieving, not dead. Don't speak as if I'm not here.." The Paladin shifted her weight and cleared her throat. Vahanian smiled. He knew her tone was not indicative of her feelings. He walked over to her, depositing his parcel on a table before reaching her. He crouched down in front of her and it took a moment for her eyes to flicker over to his. He grabbed her hand and her skin was cold, no doubt she'd been sitting in the breeze for some time. He searched for words, none that were adequate enough came to him. He looked away still searching. Rania gave his hand a gentle squeeze and he looked back at her. A sad smile that didn't reach her eyes formed on her face. More was conveyed in this look between friends than a thousand words could ever say. Finally Rania said "Vahanian.. I'm fine." Vahanian stood and said "I know, but you still owe me a dance." Vahanian wished he'd been able to see the look on her face, but he was already walking over to his parcel. She stood and was about to say "Vahanian.. I-" She stopped mid-sentence when he drew steel. The Paladin by the door, shifted again, gripping her weapon tighter. Rania recovered and said "I don't want -" Again she was cut-off this time by Vahanian tossing a blade to her. She caught it with practiced ease and he grinned. "Your words say no, but your instincts scream yes." His grin was both amusement and a challenge. In that brief moment he saw fire return to her eyes as she silently acquiesced.

(Part 2/2)

Vahanian spun the blade in his hands, not for show, but to loosen his wrists and arms. Rania likewise rolled her shoulders and neck. Vahanian had never seen Rania fight, let alone fought her himself, but he'd always wanted to, especially after hearing unconfirmed rumors, and whispers of her previous life as a warrior, coupled with how she talked about and understood military tactics. The faded white scars of a life of the sword decorated her hands and arms. Vahanian prided himself on being a quick, and accurate judge of martial skill, but here was a woman who was an anomaly to him - and not just in sword-skill. She always did the unexpected. He removed his cloak and tossed it over a chair. It was cold in the room, but he'd take that over restricted movement any day. Rania's eyes flicked down to his right forearm and his new tattoo. Vahanian crouched down to the floor. Though it was made of marble and adorned with rugs, he would not forgo his ritual. He traced the marble with his fingers and then rubbed his hands together, cupping them and then breathing deeply. He stood and opened his eyes. Looking at Rania, the man that had crouched and the man that had risen were different all together. Rania knew of Vahanian's martial skill well, and she'd even watched him fight on a few occasions, but seeing it from the stands and being face to face were two different beasts all together. To say she was afraid would be inaccurate, Rania trusted Vahanian implicitly and she knew he would never harm her. But in the back of her mind, she understood that the man who stood before her now was a level of dangerous that had been forged in the fires of a lifetime of warfare and combat.

"You still have the option of backing down, old man." Rania purred at Vahanian. He grinned back at her and shook his head. "Not a chance."

When the Paladin finally thumped the butt of her halberd on the ground to call a start to the match. Vahanian wasn't all together prepared for the aggressive nature of Rania's attacks. She launched herself at him with a ferocity and a precision he didn't think possible from someone who looked as frail and delicate as she did. After the first clang of steel on steel Vahanian settled into battle rhythm. Rania kept up her onslaught, strike after strike, was met with counter, parry, and riposte. Vahanian fought defensive at first, he had to. But soon realized this would not be won on defense. He pushed his aggression. There was a very brief lull in the duel and he heard the Paladin actually mutter "By the goddess.." The rest of the statement was lost amongst the sound of steel slashing steel. Vahanian and Rania moved around the Solarium, exchanging blows and counters in near perfect sync. Rania seemed to have the advantage for a long time, until it became clear that her lack of practice with the sword over the last several years would be her downfall. Vahanian saw an opportunity unfold, as he began to understand Rania's fighting style. She was devastatingly fast, and aggressive, and that, he could use. He let her drive him back a bit, and then when she swung at his head, he ducked under the strike, he saw surprise in her eyes as her blade didn't meet the resistance she had anticipated, he swept her legs from under her, sending her to the ground and as he rose he dashed past her and slashed downward, the tip of his blade just barely nicking her stomach. A thin line of blood welled, the cut was just deep enough to draw blood and wouldn't scar. A true testament to his control with a blade.

The Paladin thumped her halberd again, claiming the match at an end. Rania looked up at Vahanian and playfully said "Do you think it wise, to put your Oracle on her ass?" Vahanian offered his hand and helped her up while saying "I do if it helps remind her that she still has something to live for, something to fight for." His tone was light and jovial, but his hazel eyes roared with sincerity. Rania just looked at him for a moment before saying "I must go and find a new gown, this one seems to have a rip in it." Vahanian bowed his head as she turned to leave. Just as she was about to cross the threshold of the trapdoor she turned back and said "Vahanian.. Thank you." He bowed his head to her once more as she left. He wrapped his blades and then stepped onto the balcony, looking out over the holy city.

– Vahanian Blint


Fight To Win

Roleplay from Vahanian Blint - 5 days, 6 hours, 14 minutes ago

Training Match

(Personal message) - 3 days, 8 hours, 42 minutes ago Kethan D'Espana, Grand Inquisitor of Obia'Syela, Count of Melegra meets his challenger Vahanian Blint, Duke of Amen Telum, Margrave of Grehk, Priest of Heralds of Obeah for the agreed training match. Vahanian has decided to use the 'trick moves' strategy while Kethan has chosen the 'aggressive' strategy, giving Kethan the advantage.

After a series of blows, Vahanian wins the training match.

Vahanian stood on the sands of the arena awaiting his friend. He saw Kethan approach and he crouched and began his ritual. He could feel his friend waiting patiently and respectfully for him to finish. He could feel the curiosity in the air as Kethan no doubt studied Vahanian's ritual and wondered after it's purpose.

Vahanian finished and rose to his full height, he nodded and smiled at his friend in greeting before gesturing towards the weapon rack. Kethan walked over and grabbed a short sword, satisfied with the weight and balance he took up his ready position. Vahanian walked over and knew his weapon before selecting it. It was a hand-and-a-half sword. He considered a shield, but decided against it.

He removed his cloak and took up his ready position. Kethan's eyes immediately shot down to Vahanian's right arm, and the tattoo of a large wolf standing over a young panther protectively. Ever the inquisitor, he asked "My friend, if I may inquire as to the meaning and source of your tattoo..?" Vahanian's face went somber for a moment and then he said "Win, and I'll tell you." Kethan grinned and nodded, a look in his eye intrigued Vahanian. He filed it away for future analysis.

The arbiter called the match a start and Kethan launched an aggressive attack against Vahanian. He grinned, "You've been training." Vahanian called out. Kethan continued his attacks, he was fast, much faster than Vahanian had expected. However, Vahanian quickly felt the battle rhythm, it was familiar. He realized it was a lot of technical strikes and techniques from the academy. "Mistake." he thought to himself. He grinned and decided to have a little fun with his friend. As Kethan launched into his forms, Vahanian called them out. "Ford's crossing. Twin Boulders. Dancing Blade?! Ah Heart's folly! Severed Branch. Annnnd there is Graceful Retreat!" He could see Kethan getting flustered. He danced around him and gradually began extending the distance, limiting the effectiveness of Kethan's speed and short sword.

Vahanian began throwing a lot of feints and using tricks of the blade to confuse and irritate Kethan. Kethan rushed forward in a surge of adrenaline and speed, trying to catch Vahanian off-guard. Vahanian had waited and just as quickly, dropped and spun his leg around, sweeping Kethan's feet from under him. He bounced up and dashed over to his friend, and quickly cut a 'V' into his chest, just enough to draw blood, like the last time they fought the wound was superficial and wouldn't scar.

Kethan's eyes were a mixture of adrenaline fueled anger and confusion. Vahanian grinned and offered a hand. "Fight's are rarely fair. You fight with too much honor. Your speed is good, but you're too technical, too predictable. The Swordmasters don't know everything. Use their teachings as a guide, but fight nimbly here." He pointed to Kethan's head and said "As well as here." and clasped his shoulder.

Vahanian put his weapon away and again grew somber. "It's for her." he said, gesturing to his tattoo. "I got the scar protecting her and it only seemed fitting to dedicate it to her." Kethan nodded, his face clearly showing his humble appreciation and the love he too shared for Stheno. "She'd have loved it." Kethan said gently. Vahanian nodded and then cleared his throat and started to leave as he passed his friend he said "Stop using shortswords. You rely on the speed too much, it makes you predictable."

– Vahanian Blint


Roleplay from Kethan D'Espana

Message sent to everyone in Rines (10 recipients) - 4 days, 19 hours, 23 minutes ago

When Kethan arrived to the arena for the third match against his friend, he was feeling much better and far more relaxed than in any of the two previous encounters. Yes, he had lost in both of them, and yes, the first one had seen him receiving a deep wound that still mildly bothered him to this day, but this time he had actually properly prepared for the encounter and was looking forward to it. His friend was already there, and he began his ritual to prepare himself, as he had done all the previous times. Kethan did so as well, closing his eyes and breathing deeply to focus on the upcoming fight. He would have to ask Vahanian one of these days about the ritual and his meaning, but this was not the right time.

Even before Vahanian gestured towards the weapon rack, Kethan already know what he would do. It would be a shortsword, fast and nimble like no other weapon in his hands. He still was convinced that speed was the key to defeat Vahanian. His friend had the size, the weight, the reach, the strenght and the experience, but he himself had trained for his entire life with speed as the key to ensure victory. Shorter than most, swift movements were his best weapons against usually larger opponents.

Vahanian chose a hand-and-a-half sword, lethal in his hands, but Kethan would not let his friend intimidate him today. His muscles were still tender from all the training in the academy, and he was dying to put them to good use. Then, when Vahanian got ready to fight and he was about to begin the duel, he saw the tattoo on his right arm as he put his cloak aside. Was it... a wolf? And that was... a panther?

A deep shiver crawled over his skin, all the way from the base of his neck to the toes of his feet. He asked about it immediately, but Vahanian challenged him to win in order to learn the answer. Something in his face told him that he already knew the answer. Shaking his head to shield himself from strange thoughts that began creeping on his mind, he filed it away for future analysis. Very well, he would win and force Vahanian to tell him.

When the arbiter signaled for the beginning of the match, Kethan launched himself immediately on the offensive, putting to good use his recently learnt movements in a quite aggressive display of furious strikes. However, Vahanian was not caught by surprise. When the old devil started calling his moves, sometimes even before he himself had decided which one to use, he started to feel the pressure. This was not he had imagined the fight going, and he could already feel his stamina depleting after the very intense start of the fighting cadence. Vahanian was tiring him out, and doing so extremely effectively, with lots of parries, dodges and feints that consumed far less energy than Kethan was using with his deep thrusts and lightning-fast strikes.

It was then that Vahanian started to put even more space between them, thus completely negating Kethan's attempts to attack through his staunch defense and superior reach, and using even more trick moves in an attempt to confuse and irritate him. But Kethan was not going to allow his friend get away from his defeat this time. Third time's the charm, and he was here to prove Vahanian that he was a good fighter himself. Waiting until the proper moment, Kethan sprung forward in an impressive surge of adreline and speed, that would have surely overpowered a less experienced opponent.

But not Vahanian. Instead of parrying or dodging the savage combination of blows, which would have been a challenge even for him, he simply dropped and spun his leg around, thus dropping Kethan to the floor and promptly ending the fight with a quick "V" on Kethan's chest. The younger man felt the shock running through his brain, almost offended that Vahanian hadn't let him finish his maneuver. It was a fantastic combo he had just mastered not even a week ago! The instructor had fallen under his blows every single time he had tried it. How could Vahanian have done that? Such a low blow, such a filthy tactic for such an experienced swordsmaster as him...

Kethan barely managed to listen to Vahanian's advice, blood still rushing through his veins in a deeply unsatisfied manner for the abrupt ending of the fight. Finally accepting Vahanian's hand, he got a look on his new tattoo again, and he felt the same deep shiver he had felt at the beginning of the fight. His anger suddenly forgotten, he listened to Vahanian's explanation, and nodded in the appreciation for the gesture to her beloved former pupil. He could feel a knot on his throat and a heavy weight in his heart, and simply stated that Stheno would have loved the tattoo. He did not feel ready to say anything else, nor was it needed.

Vahanian nodded, and gave Kethan the last bit of advice of the day before passing him and walking away. Kethan followed him soon after. Next time.

– Kethan D'Espana


Exercise The Body, Strengthen The Spirit


Two Pillars, One Temple

Roleplay from Vahanian Blint

Message sent to all nobles of Obia'Syela (32 recipients) - 11 days, 17 hours, 45 minutes ago

Vahanian stood in a training circle beneath the streets of Rines. The halls he walked today were that of the old Templar Nexus - still used by the members of the order located in Rines. He was working through some forms with a rapier when he noticed some hushed voices and poor attempts at subtlety from some younger members of the order. He ignored them at first, this was commonplace when he was training in a relatively open space. After the hush voices didn't dissipate, he tried shooting glances towards them that were intended to remind the younglings that they had chores to do.

Several minutes later, Vahanian stopped mid-form. His sudden pause caused the reaction he'd hoped for. Silence. His audience was silent, curious as to why he stopped. He whirled around and bellowed at them. 'STAND FRONT AND CENTER. ALL OF YOU.' All but one hurried forward, most unsure what was happening, but too scared to disobey. Only one tried to slink away during the commotion. Vahanian pulled a knife from his belt and threw it, it embedded into the wood of the door next to the young Templar's hand. 'Front and center.' He said. The young Templar turned, his face white with fear, and hurried to join the line of young Templar.

"Since all of you seem far more interested in watching me train than performing your duties or tending to your studies.. Perhaps your time is best learning something." Vahanian handed each of them a wooden stave and he himself held one as well. He stood before all 12 of them and gestured to a bell on the other side of the room, and said "Ring the bell before this hourglass fills and you all get to skip tomorrow's chores and lessons. Don't ring the bell in time and.... well let's keep that a surprise." Vahanian flipped the hour glass and spun to face the 12 Templar. They surged forward each eager on being the one to ring the bell. Some tried to run right by them, they met the stone floor with great speed and about as much grace as one might expect. With 3 Templar down, he had only 9 to go. 2 of them hadn't moved, still shocked and probably scared, the other 7 were surging towards Vahanian intent on barreling through him. He grinned and danced among them like wind through reeds, in mere moments they were moaning on the ground or tangled among each other egos bruised more than their bodies. He turned to the final two and simply walked over to them, and said "Boo!" they dropped their staves right away.

He chuckled and ordered everyone to their feet. Pointed to three and said 'Attack.' They rushed at him one at a time, foolishly, and he swatted away their attacks and provided them with bruises or headaches as reminders all the while lecturing to the others. "Fight with your mind, not your heart. Dying in battle wont grant you any more glory than dying in the arms of a lover. Dying stupidly is a waste of life, and we do not waste lives. We are Obeah's chosen warriors." He made an emphasis on his words with swings of his stave against the young Templar. He pointed to three more and said "Attack." They did so. "We operate in the light, Inquisitors do not. We are the shields that guard the faithful. We are the swords that defend the faith. We are the spears that pierce the hearts of Obeah's enemies. We are the front line, We are the back line, We are the only line." He pointed to three more and said "Attack." They also, did as commanded. "We are guardians and warriors, we are sentinels and soldiers, we are priests and nobles, we are the faithful, but we are not stupid or wasteful. Never go for the flashy kill, never give the enemy an advantage. Don't assume an enemy is dead until they are. Never wait for the perfect strike on an enemy when 5, or 10, or 20, or 100 will kill him just as effectively, and far more quickly." He pointed the final 3 and said "Attack." They did. "We are the flame that fights back the darkness. We are strong when others are weak. We defend the journey of the faithful. We are Templar, and we will kill all who stand in our way."

He ended his final statement by sweeping the legs of the only Templar who was still standing. He pinned the boy down with his stave and then released his grip, allowing the boy to move.

"Templars start again at dawn.... Others do not." Vahanian called, before returning to his private chambers in the Nexus.

– Vahanian Blint




Ecstasy In Grehk


You carefully work the ritual inscribed on your scroll of Ecstasy.

You carefully perform the ritual described on the scroll, and when it finishes, you wait expectantly for something to happen. Nothing seems to. Disappointed, you clean up the area where you performed the ritual and start to head home, when you pass a comely peasant, and feel a sudden stirring of lust. By the time you have made it back, you have seen—and heard—many unmistakable signs that the scroll is working.

Population Boom in Grehk just in Your seneschal brings you word of an inexplicable population boom in Grehk. 689 babies have apparently been born recently.

– Ecstasy Spell Casting


Roleplay from Vahanian Blint

Message sent to all nobles of Obia'Syela (36 recipients) - just in

Vahanian could feel the magic emanating from the scroll case he carried. It made his arm, and tattoo tingle. He walked through the halls of the White Citadel until he came to the stair that led to the rooftop gardens. He wound his way through the carefully tended paths and found the outcrop of the garden where he'd tried spell-casting once before. He was entirely alone, save for his chief advisor, Baldwin, who stood back and said nothing. He was a little more familiar with the process this time around, having witnessed the Oracle handle more magic than he though possible and still demand more.

He lit the braziers with the torch, discarding it in the fourth brazier and readied himself. He removed his thick cloak and placed the scroll case in front of him. He studied it, mentally picking it up and examining it in his mind. He wanted to do this right, the people of Grehk needed this. He remembered Rania starting to sing, and he remembered her voice guided his own to the right resonance. He tried that again, only it didn't feel right, didn't feel the same. He was about to proceed anyway when something deep within his mind stopped him. He needed to focus. He drew his sword and sat down, taking a whetstone and running it along the blade in a careful and methodical manner. The sound of the stone on the steel was oddly calming to him, the sound it made resonated with him, he began to try to match the tone with his own humming. When he felt he was hitting the right resonance with both whetstone and humming he closed his eyes, and reached out with his mind, his will, and his spirit. He could feel himself reach out towards the scroll, and was suddenly thrown about in the tumultuous storm of sounds and resonances, it was too much, to messy. He couldn't find the order to it. He relaxed, and let go. Retreating, in his mind, back to the whetstone and his humming.

He just relaxed, waiting, for the right resonance to come. He decided to take the scroll from it's case, but not unfurl it just yet. Looking at the magic infused parchment he was filled with memories, emotions, and pain. It made him think of Stheno. His heartbeat quickened and he could feel his face redden with anger and sadness. He didn't fight the emotion. He let it in, but slowly, methodically, and carefully. In his mind, he placed each emotion in his place. The ferocity of his anger, the pain of his sadness, the rawness of his regret.

He gripped the hilt of his sword tighter until his knuckles went white, and he hummed. Then it hit him all at once, the power of the magic swarmed to his call, but not as sound. As color. He saw the hues of red, and pink, and orange, and undertones of blue. He stood and grabbed the scroll with his left hand and holding onto his sword with his right. He began reciting the enchantment, each word sparked a different color in his mind, Orange, pink, red, blue, red, red, red, pink, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, orange, pink, pink, orange, orange, blue, blue and finally. White.

He pierced the scroll with his blade as he recited the last enchantment and it burst into flames. He slammed it to the stones he stood upon and held it there. Concentrating on the emotions and the colors that flooded his mind. Willing them into and through his body. His tattoo burned, his vision went white as he became the focal point for the magic that swirled around him. He released that energy directing out and up and over his beloved city, he choked out a sob as the last of the energy released from his body and he gasped for air. The scroll sputtered out, charred and expended, and Vahanian was filled with a sense of failure. He grew weary, and felt totally drained. He needed food, and he needed sleep. As he stood, sheathed his sword and started the trek back to his chambers, he wandered through the halls of the White Citadel. He needed to think before he rested.

As he walked through the halls of the citadel, he started to feel at peace. It was subtle. He relaxed a bit more, and turned a corner he very clearly got the smell of lilies and lavender. It reminded him of Katerina. He kept wandering through the halls and as he turned back towards his chambers, he caught sight of her standing in the doorway, beckoning him to join him in their chambers. He felt his heart skip a beat, as he saw her in all her beauty. The curls of her black hair, the shinning emerald green eyes that made him feel totally vulnerable and totally safe at the same time. The sweet, pure innocent joy in her laugh, and the nearly blinding brilliance and infectiousness of her smile. He was filled with so much love, so much desire, and so much longing for her. She faded from view and he turned around looking for her not ready for her to leave. He turned back towards his chamber doors, but she was gone. He was faced with just the sturdy oak door and the joys of his memories of her.

– Vahanian Blint

Keffa's Ritual

The Templar and Blood-Priest


Roleplay from Vahanian Blint

Message sent to everyone in Keffa (96 recipients)

The Square

Vahanian looked across the square at those assembled, they'd been standing around for what felt like days. The crowd was growing ever larger as more people filed into his city. Vahanian reached his limit. He'd had enough waiting. "To hell with this." He muttered and he dismounted from his horse and shouldered his way through the line of Obian soldiers. "Oh Son of a bit-" the swear of Baldwin, Vahanian's captain of the guard, was drowned out by the thudding in Vahanian's ears. He muscled his way into the center of the square. His soldiers streaming after him, both equally excited at the prospect of combat, and worried that Vahanian was about to do something horrendously reckless and dangerous. Vahanian headed directly towards the group of Vordul soldiers guarding the ritual.

"Move aside." Vahanian said, his voice dripping with a calm fury and controlled lethality. As he approached threshold of Vordul blood magic, his arm seared in pain. It felt like he was reaching into the depths of hell's core and trying to return unscathed. No physical representation of the burning pain was on his arm, but in his head, it felt like he'd just been thrown into lava.

Vahanian glowered at the force rallied against him as he saw and then proceed to call upon the one he once called ally. The defiler. "You'll do." he said, the challenge in his voice clear. He spit in front of the Vordul forces and declared: "Godfrey Greybrook! You're a disgrace to the Greybrook name. Ferdinand was twice the man you could ever dream of being. You're a cancerous filth that needs to be purged from this world."

Godfrey rushed stepped foreward, placing himself directly in Vahanian's path and between the duke and Poli, his eyes darting between the approaching Vahanian and the edge of the circle, clearly wondering what effect an interruption could have on the ritual. He gripped his ritual dagger tightly and stepped forward barring entry to the ritual circle and placing himself between Vahanian and Poli. Vahanian snorted as he paced back and forth across from the priest.

Hatred of his own, poured from Godfrey's body language. The animosity in the air was almost as palpable as the magic that fluttered around the square. He accepted the challenge.

For someone of his age, Vahanian moved with surprising speed and agility. He launched forward, like a panther pouncing on it's prey, and struck with the ferocity of a wolf bringing down a kill. Godfrey brought his dagger up just in time to prevent himself from being decapitated. Vahanian was relentless in his attacks, toying with Godfrey, striking hard and fast, but drawing out the panic in his opponent. He seemed to relish the fear in Godfrey's eyes. The fear and realization that he might not live to see this ritual complete. That his work thus far would be for naught. To the priest's credit, he held his ground. He defended as best he could, clearly having had some training with the sword, but his technique was lacking. The life of a priest often led to a lackluster skill with the sword.

(1/2)

– Vahanian Blint

Roleplay from Vahanian Blint Player

Message sent to everyone in Keffa (96 recipients) - 7 days, 17 hours, 19 minutes ago

The Square

All things must end, and so to did the brief bout. Vahanian parried inside of Godfrey's excuse for a guard, he battered the dagger out of Godfrey's grasp, sending it skittering across the square towards the ritual circle. Vahanian slammed the pommel of his sword into Godfrey's temple, dazing him as he grabbed the lapel of his robes and swept his feet from under him. Landing with his knee on the priest's chest and his blade pressed against Godfrey's throat, he looked into the eyes of a heathen with pure, unadulterated hatred

With an almost euphoria in his eyes, Godfrey began leaning into to sword, teasing the blade to cut the skin on his, almost begging through gasps "Do it old man… Kill me… Do my cousin proud… Everything you have loved has died… All for your bitch Obeah… Do it!"

Vahanian was just about to end the priest's life when he heard Kethan's voice calmly say "Vahanian.. don't. It's a blood ritual." Vahanian looked over and saw the Inquisitor, one of his oldest friends, standing there, looking as if he'd spent the last 6 weeks constantly awake, with his face burried in tomes. He was passively watching the events with a scholar's eye. Vahanian stayed his blade, but gave the opportunity for Godfrey to react. As he got up suddenly, Godfrey pressed his ear against the sharp weapon and like an animal saw his ear removed from his head in an attempt to escape.

Reacting instantly on instinct and to the horror, Vahanian grabbed Godfrey by the throat, squeezing, he pressed Godfrey's head into the stone street and stared down at the priest with utter hatred before he whispered. "I'll be seeing you again." He stood, and released Godfrey in one swift motion, wathcing Godfrey as he scampered off to collect the remnants of his ear as blood poured unto the stone below. Vahanian, sheathing his sword and returning to his horse, muttered to Kethan. "This needs to end."

(2/2)

– Vahanian Blint

Always The Sentinel


Roleplay from Vahanian Blint

Message sent to everyone in Keffa (99 recipients) - 6 days, 17 hours, 56 minutes ago

Saoirse charged her lancers forward, the arrows rained down death on them. Vahanian's soldiers pressed against the throng of the assembled crowd and did their best to shield the onlookers from stray arrows. Vahanian stood in the middle of the square. Hand on the hilt of his sheathed sword, unafraid. His eyes tracked Saoirse as she charged, as her horse fell, as she recovered, and engaged Emilia. Vahanian was reacting, the sweet familiarity of battle settling over him. He moved with the grace and poise of a dancer, and the purpose of a soldier. A Vordul troop, Vahanian wasn't sure and didn't care what unit he belonged to, charged for Saoirse's back, trying to gain an advantage. Vahanian spun and drew his sword in one fluid motion, the soldier was met with the silent whisper of steel cutting through air, and then flesh, and bone as Vahanian decapitated him.

He watched Saoirse fight. Every instinct in him wanted to rush to her aide. The teacher in him wanted to help, but he knew at his core that this was her fight. It wasn't that she wanted to do this. She needed to do this. He kept his distance, and made sure that nobody else interrupted the duel, while watching it with a practiced eye. He studied Saoirse's movements and technique, rattling off the forms she was flowing through in his head. Evidently his training with her paid off, she feinted and struck a critical blow, disarming Emilia and forcing her into submission. A glint of fierce pride swelled in his eye, and a slight nod of approval was the only physical indication of his pride he sent Saoirse's way.

Vahanian's arm surged in pain, new magic was being cast. He ignored the pain, and focused on the sensation in the shards in his arm, the pulsing was different from the Vordul blood magic. This was not magic of death, this was magic of life.

Peace. Compassion. Calm. Contentment. Love.
Yao Ling Pryde's scroll glowed in her grasp as the spell was cast.

– Yao Ling Pryde


Vahanian fought against the magic that coursed through him. Wrestling with the emotions that flooded his mind. He did feel calm, but it wasn't a natural calm. That was a problem he'd always had with emotional magic. Once he knew it was magic, he was able to find the falsity in it. He relaxed some, against his will, but he relaxed.

He scanned the square again, ensuring that Saoirse was indeed safe, before scanning the crowd, sheathing his sword, but keeping his hand firmly on the hilt.

His hazel eyes grazed the crowd, and he spotted banners from all the realms on the continent. He passed over a noble standing in both Thalmarkin and his own family regalia. It was familiar but Vahanian couldn't place it at the moment. The colors and sigil weren't what drew his attention. Something was off about this man. There was a darkness around him that felt like it was just beyond sight. There was evil in this man, of that Vahanian had no doubt. He made a mental note of where in the crowd that man was, and continued his scan. Searching for any who were unaffected, or overcame the calming magic and sought to charge the Grandmistress.

– Vahanian Blint

Bowed Yet Unbroken


Roleplay from Vahanian Blint Player experience level: mentor Player play preference: rp-combat

Message sent to all nobles of Obia'Syela (16 recipients)


There was nothing Vahanian could do about the portal, at least nothing immediate. Even still, his heart was heavy, and his mind cluttered. He needed clarity and council. He took a deep breath and set his jaw. He knew where he had to go and what he had to do. It was, as Kat had said, far past time for him to make this trip.

There was a solemnity to the journey Vahanian was making. Each step served as a reminder of his oaths made and promises unkept. Vahanian pulled a key from a chain he wore around his neck. This key was one of four copies, the other three were held by Kethan, Antonia, and the Grand Prelate. He nodded to the Templar dressed as paladins guarding the sturdy, iron studded, hickory door stationed at the top of the Keffan Temple. They searched him and challenged his intent, to which he replied honestly. Knowing who he was and his reputation, the Templar were satisfied. His eyes flickered to the ceilings of the pathway and he was glad to see his murder holes were still in place, no doubt housing a number of Paladins waiting to rain death upon anyone bold enough to intrude.

He ascended the spiral stone staircase and soon arrived in the annex of the Keffan temple's highest chamber. His heart felt heavy and his stomach heavier. He wordlessly submitted to the inspection of his person and answered the challenge of his identity. Only once Inquisitors, in the purple veils of Paladins, were satisfied did they permit him to present his key for the second time and proceed further upwards. The stairs that wound upward from the annex were much steeper, a design he'd requested specifically. Both for their tactical advantage against intruders as well as the symbolic representation of forcing one to contemplate the journey before, during, and after taking it. The only sounds echoing across the stones were his breathing, the sound of his boots against the stairs, and the crackling of the occasional torch. After what felt like an arduous and lengthy journey, he arrived at the third and final checkpoint before his destination.

Here were the final set of paladins as well, these selected from among the Heraldry. They, like their Templar and Inquisitor counterparts, searched him and questioned him. Providing his answers and submitting to the search permitted him the access to the third and final door. He inserted and turned his key, taking a deep breath and steeling his nerves before entering the Keffan Sanctum. It was very different from it's counterpart in Rines, the Holy Solarium. Where the Solarium was smooth, polished marble, with ornate décor and arcane glyphs, the Sanctum was stone, rough and unpolished. The Sanctum was built for security and privacy. Vahanian had personally overseen it's construction and design. The Solarium in Rines had overlooked the city with ample stained glass windows and a balcony, separated from the main chamber by curtains. Here, in the Sanctum, it was pillars of stone with wrought iron bars and thick leather privacy shades. The wall sconces were blackened with soot from the torches that were kept lit day and night. The furnishings in the Sanctum were sparse and afforded little comfort.

He walked into the circular chamber and let out a shaky breath. There upon the alter, lay a shrouded figure preserved by her own magics and that of scrolls cast in Rines.

Vahanian tried to hold back the tears that welled in his eyes, but he couldn't. He took deep, shaky breaths as he looked at the shrouded form of his oldest friend. "I'm sorry.." He whispered. He heard the faint 'whoosh' and out of the corner of his teary eye he saw the white-yellow glow of Kat standing off to the side, her head bowed slightly in respect, and her hands folded in front of her as she quietly waited for him to finish. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect her, or you.." He whispered to Rania. Kat glided over to him and wrapped her ghostly arms around his waist, and gently rested her head on his shoulder.

Vahanian took a deep, shaky breath to steady himself, wiped his eyes, and said to Kat "You would have loved her. You would have loved them both.." Kat smiled and hummed her ascent. "Rania was formidable, proud, and strong. She could silence a room with a stare and inspire a nation with a word." His affection and admiration for Rania apparent in his voice. Vahanian took a deep breath as he absently rubbed his hand on the panther tattoo on his forearm, his homage to Stheno. "Stheno was wild, and fierce. She was a tiny hurricane of energy. Equal parts joy and trouble." He said fondly. Kat looked up at Vahanian and said

"They were lucky to have you. Rania as a friend, and partner, and Stheno as a guardian and teacher."

Vahanian tried to smile, but couldn't muster the energy, tears streamed down his face as he thought about Stheno.

"They knew you loved them in your own way. Rania trusted you with everything, and Stheno, well you were more a father to her than anyone else in her life."

Vahanian sank to his knees as his heart dropped into the pit of his stomach. "I'm sorry, Kat. I'm so sorry." He muttered to her, fighting to get the words out "I abandoned our children, our family for them, for her." Gesturing to the shrouded form. "I wish I could have been a better father. A better man for our family. But I... I..." Vahanian couldn't find the words, and they wouldn't have come even if he'd known them.

Kat unwound herself from him and glided in front of him, kneeling, she reached out and pressed her ethereal hand against his cheek and looked into his eyes.

"You were the perfect man for our family. We all make mistakes."

He tilted his head, as if to press it into her palm and said "I left our children for Rania and Stheno." Kat smiled sadly at him and said

"You did the best you could, and you were a father to the child who couldn't have, and wouldn't have survived without one. Ours did. She needed you more, they both needed you more. And look what's become of that choice. You've lived a long and wonderful life. You'll have so many stories to share with us once your time comes."

Vahanian smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

Kat cupped his face in both her spectral hands and she said, a little more firmly.

"My love, don't feel bad. You were the father Stheno needed, when she needed it. Nothing can take that away. I love you for it, and so did she. Remember that."

Vahanian looked at her, so much pain, so much sadness in his eyes. "Will you stay with me?" he asked, his voice was as steady as he could muster, but his eyes pleaded with her. She smiled a ghostly smile and whispered

"I'm with you, always.".

Vahanian smiled back, but his expression didn't change. She knew what he was asking and she nodded her ascent

"For a while.".

The two sat on the cold stones, lost in thought and each other's company.

After what seemed like far too little time, Kat finally spoke as her ghost began to fade.

"It's time, my love."

Vahanian held the pendant he always wore and whispered to the air as she shimmered from his view "I love you, now and always."

He stayed on his knees in silence for a time. Staring at the alter. He tried to speak, tried to explain several times, but the words never came. Those he thought of sounded hollow in his head and tasted of ash on his tongue. So, he sat there alone, waiting and thinking. It felt like time stood still and sped up all at once, he'd lost all sense of it. Finally jolting, as if coming back to himself. He bowed his head low, out of respect, and stayed there for a while before rising to his feet and setting his jaw. There was work to be done.


– Vahanian Blint