Miroslaw had received a formal invitation by Serenity to train with her on an early morning. A few days had passed since the ball, allowing the noble to recuperate after an attempt on her life, unbeknownst to Miroslaw. Still, nothing like a meditation to calm the spirit.
Not far from the walls of Wistvale, Serenity sat cross legged on the top of a small hill, an odd sight for a noble, perhaps. She wore plain clothes, a white shirt with tan pants and shoes, with her hair tied into a pony tail. Her eyes were closed whilst her arms outstretched with open palms, being absolutely still and calm.
From a distance one could see that she was deep in meditation (or sleeping soundly), but in reality she was manipulating the magical energies around her. For as long as the sun had risen, Serenity had been outside tempering her will and keeping a constant vortex of wind around her.
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This is a solo adventure for Miroslaw, though I will allow one other person to join if they want to.
Miroslaw had received word from the beautiful woman he met at the ball to meet her at a specific location on this very early morning. It was a follow up on the invitation for training in preparation for the Highever arena Miroslaw was still very curious about. Of course, Miroslaw would never decline an invitation from a woman of such standing.
Miroslaw was groomed to his finest. Well, the finest a Soren of his standing could be. By this, he was freshly bathed, his beard was cut much shorter and braided, and he smelled of his flowery fragrance he wore for special occasions. He was also fully geared up, as always. His unique claymore sat on his back with the hilt positioned over his right shoulder. His bow was strung and hanging on his left. Also, a uncommon display, his hood was already pulled down. This revealed his freshly shaved head, a striking difference from his medium length hair.
Miro spotted her from a distance, sitting atop the hill that was meant for the meeting place, seemingly meditating. He was not sure what to expect from this meeting. Serenity seemed to desire to give him a taste of the magic he will be facing in the arena, but what did that mean? Miroslaw had seen his fair share of magic in his adventures, but was he to be expecting something different? These were the questions that were running through his mind as he took a deep sigh and began towards the lady. As he trekked forward, he was not certain if he should remain silent or call out to the meditating woman. In the end, he decided on silence. At least, as much silence as he could manage with his large, clumsy feet.
Death is no more than turning us over from time to eternity. Whether that eternity is damnation or salvation is determined in the time we have.
When Miroslaw began to approach Serenity, the wind about her dispersed. Now she entered a more relaxed pose and took a deep breath as if having finished a run, eyes still closed.
The sound of grass rustling, the smell of dew, the warmth of the sun's rays, all were now more apparent to her.
"Are you prepared, Miroslaw?"
Her eyes opened slowly to see the Soren warrior, properly groomed and smelling a little like flowers if the air told her anything. The thought of Miroslaw putting on fragrance for this exercise made her giggle.
She had not stood up yet, but rather remained in her sitting position and her hands closed around an invisible sphere as her eyes flashed with power.
Last Edit: Aug 7, 2014 15:47:21 GMT -5 by Serenity
The woman had a strange aura about her. For once, Miroslaw was not completely unaware of it. The odd airflow was enough to bring Miro's mind to question himself. What had he got himself into? He loathed everything about magic, and clearly the woman possessed what he detested. It always caused him problems and nothing else.
He was warned about Serenity's power, but he simply couldn't turn down her offer. He still not entirely certain what he needed to be ready for, but he responded with hesitant words, “I suppose I am as ready as I can be.” He unconsciously braced himself. His left foot moved back a bit, and his body leaned forward, ever so slightly. He wasn't sure what the woman intended to do, but he was very uneasy about it. Being around magic always made him uncomfortable.
Death is no more than turning us over from time to eternity. Whether that eternity is damnation or salvation is determined in the time we have.
Suddenly, Serenity stopped manipulating power and a near invisible aura appeared about her.
[Serenity has cast Haste upon herself]
With not another warning, her magic manifested again and Miroslaw could feel a small quake beneath his boots.
- Rumble - Effect: By striking the ground, the mage can cause the earth to writhe at their command, surging underfoot and causing targets to stumble and fall. Range: 20 feet. AOE: 3 feet. Cast Time: Immediate. Power: Targets with lower Gymnastics can stumble, trip or fall entirely.
The casting was so quick the Soren warrior could not find the time to balance himself on the shaking ground before he realized Serenity was running down the hill toward him at an incredible rate.
She was but a blur, almost one with the wind, and were this not training Miroslaw would be seeing the lower half of the rapier, instead of the tip which looked to stab his throat.
After the quaking stopped, Serenity's eyes looked intently into Miro's, "Are you ready, now?"
As the ground began to shake, Miroslaw immediately began reaching for his claymore. He stumbled, finding a difficult time maintaining his balance with the tremors. He tried to widen his base, but immediately fell forward, his hand reaching out to the ground for extra stability. In the process, he let his bow slip to the ground off his shoulder. Meanwhile, he saw the woman charging at him with impossible speed. What was she doing? Was this what she meant by training? Her power was exceptional, and Miroslaw hated it.
He managed to rise back to his feet, reaching his hand back to draw his sword. He attempted to draw his sword for a parry of the blade that was rushing towards him. He pulled his sword, but she was moving to fast to block properly. She stopped just short of piercing his throat as the tremors stopped. He took a hard gulp, once again questioning what he had got himself into.
He returned the gaze, though with much less intensity. He was not ready. How was he suppose to defend himself when he couldn’t even stand properly and much less keep up with such speed! He jumped back to create some distance. It was frustrating to be so powerless, but perhaps she just caught him off guard. After all, he wasn’t actually ready. Now, his blade was drawn and he was indeed ready. He was breathing deeply and now in stance. His blade held out in front of him in a very traditional stance for the weapon he wielded. His eyes were trained on his woman before him. He would not let such a thing happen again, that was for certain. He remained silent, focusing on what he assumed would be another go.
Death is no more than turning us over from time to eternity. Whether that eternity is damnation or salvation is determined in the time we have.