((OOC: 01 Drakonis, 9:35 Dragon; early morning; The Deep Roads with Henri-Julien Barrows and Alessandra Howard ))
The toll of months in the Deep Roads, of the battle with the templars, including Henri-Julien’s intrusion, and their foray to address the broodmother situation piled up and left Velanna needing significant rest. That rest took more forms that simply sleep, and replenishment of strength and magic. There was sleep in abundance, for sure, but there was also days spent outdoors, relishing in the new spring growth and incoming warmer weather, such as it was. She spent time with her journal, tucked into the bifurcation of a massive tree on the grounds, and took the liberty of using her magic for something other than violence. She encouraged grass to grow, and coaxed little tendrils of flowering trees to stretch and yield their blooms. She said a prayer to the gods to guide the dead and allow their souls to find rest in the Beyond, and planted a sapling in honor of Seranni. It was the least she could do for what felt like a failure to protect her sister, her first and possibly only friend. This was the only show of grief she allowed herself.
Of course the idyllic life could not last, and Warden duties called once more. Reports had come back of something massive causing disruption in the Deep Roads, something with powerful blood magic. Velanna was not opposed to blood magic entirely—like any magic she supposed it was the mage and not the magic itself that decided the morality of the spells cast—for certainly some of her own magic could be argued to be more dangerous. This was different, she knew, and whatever the source, it would need to be dealt with, the sooner the better.
Commander Berlra once again tasked her and Henri-Julien with handling this, and they put together a squad with the skills needed to take down such a mage. Despite what some might believe of her, Velanna did not by default assume that all mages were sacred beings. There were those who were dangerous, and they needed to be dealt with accordingly. Together with a newer warrior Alessandra, they were likely enough to handle a single blood mage.
Nothing could be simple. Their journey once again took them several grueling hours in before they stopped for rest, and they walked long through what Velanna assumed was most of the night. If she’d judged the passage of time properly, they were in the early hours of the new month, and well underway to the last reported sighting of their quarry.
“We should stop here for rest and food,” she announced. Deeming herself having proven her worth to the Wardens, she did not balk at using her magic around Henri-Julien. With a lift of a hand she tugged a root system from the wall and wound it around until she had a fair tuffet upon which to sit. She crossed her legs primly beneath her, as if lounging in a garden rather than in the bowels of the earth and removed a portion of her rations from her pack. “We are not far from where they were last seen.” If the mage in question had stayed closeby, they would need to be rested for what might possibly be a battle.
The toll of months in the Deep Roads, of the battle with the templars, including Henri-Julien’s intrusion, and their foray to address the broodmother situation piled up and left Velanna needing significant rest. That rest took more forms that simply sleep, and replenishment of strength and magic. There was sleep in abundance, for sure, but there was also days spent outdoors, relishing in the new spring growth and incoming warmer weather, such as it was. She spent time with her journal, tucked into the bifurcation of a massive tree on the grounds, and took the liberty of using her magic for something other than violence. She encouraged grass to grow, and coaxed little tendrils of flowering trees to stretch and yield their blooms. She said a prayer to the gods to guide the dead and allow their souls to find rest in the Beyond, and planted a sapling in honor of Seranni. It was the least she could do for what felt like a failure to protect her sister, her first and possibly only friend. This was the only show of grief she allowed herself.
Of course the idyllic life could not last, and Warden duties called once more. Reports had come back of something massive causing disruption in the Deep Roads, something with powerful blood magic. Velanna was not opposed to blood magic entirely—like any magic she supposed it was the mage and not the magic itself that decided the morality of the spells cast—for certainly some of her own magic could be argued to be more dangerous. This was different, she knew, and whatever the source, it would need to be dealt with, the sooner the better.
Commander Berlra once again tasked her and Henri-Julien with handling this, and they put together a squad with the skills needed to take down such a mage. Despite what some might believe of her, Velanna did not by default assume that all mages were sacred beings. There were those who were dangerous, and they needed to be dealt with accordingly. Together with a newer warrior Alessandra, they were likely enough to handle a single blood mage.
Nothing could be simple. Their journey once again took them several grueling hours in before they stopped for rest, and they walked long through what Velanna assumed was most of the night. If she’d judged the passage of time properly, they were in the early hours of the new month, and well underway to the last reported sighting of their quarry.
“We should stop here for rest and food,” she announced. Deeming herself having proven her worth to the Wardens, she did not balk at using her magic around Henri-Julien. With a lift of a hand she tugged a root system from the wall and wound it around until she had a fair tuffet upon which to sit. She crossed her legs primly beneath her, as if lounging in a garden rather than in the bowels of the earth and removed a portion of her rations from her pack. “We are not far from where they were last seen.” If the mage in question had stayed closeby, they would need to be rested for what might possibly be a battle.