Searching and Seeking - Within and Without
Posted: Thu Oct 18, 2012 10:36 am
"Something changed, at some point. But I'm not sure what that point is. Or if what changed was within me, or something in the world, in the balance."
This thought often echoed through his mind lately. Not constantly, just frequently.
He had, lately, eschewed his normal leather armor, instead donning a pair of heavy boots and heavy gauntlets, both of iron. This served, he had reasoned, three purposes. The first, to hamper his limited martial ability just enough to make fighting his foes a challenge, ensuring he would learn something. The second, to put more power behind his punches, making up for his lack of specific training with unarmed fighting, to make up for his inability to bolster his own physical prowess. Thirdly, to keep the Resen off of his hands while he mercilessly beat the Infested.
Ducking and weaving well enough, landing inexperienced blows here and there, trying to tune his body into the natural rhythm he knew would come soon enough. Trying to glean insight into the Dwaedn Wyr, to how they could tap and channel such primal forces, despite their inability to commune with the Whole of the Gaea. Trying perhaps to tap into that same primal force, even if only for the briefest of moments, in the hopes that he might hold onto that vision, and learn from it. To understand how the Dwaedn Wyr could see only a fragment of the Whole, while he could see the Whole but not the fragment.
Failure was often on his mind, as he dodge out of the way of the even less experienced blows of the Infested. It was possible, probable, that he'd never reach that state. it was probable that he was wasting his time, that at best there was simply some mutual exclusivity between what he, what the Udemi, could do, and what the Dwaedn Wyr could do. At worst, it was simply that he was incapable. Another personal failure, that he could not overcome.
This one had died. He'd inflicted enough trauma to end it's life, taking care to dispose of the body, before slipping back into hiding, simply crouching among the tall grasses, his skin shifting to match the color and texture of the plants. He'd found it harder to concentrate on his thoughts when waiting, though patient he was. And wait he would, until a man or woman riddled with the signs of Resen stumbled into sight, and into reach. Skin splotched with fungal growths. With horrible patches of white fuzz, with the occasional cap sprouting.
He acted quickly, thanking the fact that he did not falter, or move too slowly, when he grabbed at the man's face. Or the man-like face, as the person was essentially a zombie now, under the control of the Resen. Iron clad fingers hooked at the eye socket, gripping at the bony socket without stabbing fully into the eye, and pulling down, sending the creature spinning to the ground while he set into the motions again, going through the moves as if they were second nature to him.
Clarity of thought returned once again. This had become something like a kind of meditation for him. He spent much of his time meditating within Blackthorn Grove now, trying to connect more to the Gaea, to determine what WAS correct. Too much of what he had done had been based on preferential treatment. Trying to protect Shadgard. Instead, he needed to consider the balance, and perhaps through communing, he could discover it. Perhaps through his daily training, he could discover it. Perhaps, with time, he could detach himself, to make more clear decisions. Perhaps the Dunwyr would have answers, if not the Dwaedn Wyr, that could help.
Until then, Kian would continue his study both inward and outward. He would continue his studies, his meditation, and his on going fight against the Resen, and perhaps achieve balance both within and without.
This thought often echoed through his mind lately. Not constantly, just frequently.
He had, lately, eschewed his normal leather armor, instead donning a pair of heavy boots and heavy gauntlets, both of iron. This served, he had reasoned, three purposes. The first, to hamper his limited martial ability just enough to make fighting his foes a challenge, ensuring he would learn something. The second, to put more power behind his punches, making up for his lack of specific training with unarmed fighting, to make up for his inability to bolster his own physical prowess. Thirdly, to keep the Resen off of his hands while he mercilessly beat the Infested.
Ducking and weaving well enough, landing inexperienced blows here and there, trying to tune his body into the natural rhythm he knew would come soon enough. Trying to glean insight into the Dwaedn Wyr, to how they could tap and channel such primal forces, despite their inability to commune with the Whole of the Gaea. Trying perhaps to tap into that same primal force, even if only for the briefest of moments, in the hopes that he might hold onto that vision, and learn from it. To understand how the Dwaedn Wyr could see only a fragment of the Whole, while he could see the Whole but not the fragment.
Failure was often on his mind, as he dodge out of the way of the even less experienced blows of the Infested. It was possible, probable, that he'd never reach that state. it was probable that he was wasting his time, that at best there was simply some mutual exclusivity between what he, what the Udemi, could do, and what the Dwaedn Wyr could do. At worst, it was simply that he was incapable. Another personal failure, that he could not overcome.
This one had died. He'd inflicted enough trauma to end it's life, taking care to dispose of the body, before slipping back into hiding, simply crouching among the tall grasses, his skin shifting to match the color and texture of the plants. He'd found it harder to concentrate on his thoughts when waiting, though patient he was. And wait he would, until a man or woman riddled with the signs of Resen stumbled into sight, and into reach. Skin splotched with fungal growths. With horrible patches of white fuzz, with the occasional cap sprouting.
He acted quickly, thanking the fact that he did not falter, or move too slowly, when he grabbed at the man's face. Or the man-like face, as the person was essentially a zombie now, under the control of the Resen. Iron clad fingers hooked at the eye socket, gripping at the bony socket without stabbing fully into the eye, and pulling down, sending the creature spinning to the ground while he set into the motions again, going through the moves as if they were second nature to him.
Clarity of thought returned once again. This had become something like a kind of meditation for him. He spent much of his time meditating within Blackthorn Grove now, trying to connect more to the Gaea, to determine what WAS correct. Too much of what he had done had been based on preferential treatment. Trying to protect Shadgard. Instead, he needed to consider the balance, and perhaps through communing, he could discover it. Perhaps through his daily training, he could discover it. Perhaps, with time, he could detach himself, to make more clear decisions. Perhaps the Dunwyr would have answers, if not the Dwaedn Wyr, that could help.
Until then, Kian would continue his study both inward and outward. He would continue his studies, his meditation, and his on going fight against the Resen, and perhaps achieve balance both within and without.