amberdrake: (this endless mercy mile)
[personal profile] amberdrake
(( OOC: Doing this scene to show the character as I play him now, albeit in a different setting, with help from my roommate [personal profile] badly_behaved_priest, stepping in for this as [personal profile] treesus. Also, we both tend to prefer past tense, but can RP in present tense too. ))

Amberdrake woke with a splitting headache and a sour taste in his mouth. That wasn't strange. Neither was waking up in the mud. Had he passed out after some emergency, then, and not been moved? What had happened to the others?

He blinked his eyes open. And then he was awake enough for the sickly-sweet smell of death -- all too damned familiar, that -- to hit his senses. Rot, decay, old and festering. He hadn't smelled this since traveling with Silver Veil through the subjugated lands of Ma'ar's forces. For an instant, he was there again, hiding in the wagon, peeking out of a hole in the canvas despite his horror. Searching, as always, for his family's faces among the fallen... and the dying...

That instant passed when he gagged. Had the smell just gotten stronger? He sat up.

Time to move, kestra'chern. Even you have better danger sense than this.

And he did, especially after his time in Haven. The first glimpse of the walking dead reminded him of that city. He snapped his shields up before his Empathy could be overwhelmed. But then the undead human turned to look at him, and Drake felt a whole new brand of fear lance through his heart.

That thing isn't shambling around slowly. Get up, you idiot! Get up!

Drake scrambled to his feet even as the undead made to sprint for him. Only decades of experience at handling hostile clients and panicked patients gave him the instincts to react. He ducked, shoved his elbow into the creature's stomach, and flipped it onto its back.

He was smart enough not to wait to see what happened next; the kestra'chern took off at a sprint of his own, heading for the ruins of some sort of huge statue. Where the hell was he? Not important, not yet. Something screamed overhead, and the healer dove for cover without glancing up. He was from a world, after all, that had hosted makaar!

Amberdrake came up from his dive, and kept running. He shed the tiny bells in his hair as he ran, and shrugged off his colorful outer robe to land in the mud behind him. Years as a noncombatant in combat situations -- no, a lifetime as a noncombatant in combat situations! -- had taught him plenty about making himself a less obvious target.

He slid to a halt behind the broken statue, putting his back to it and panting for air, his gaze raking over the area. The healer knew he wasn't safe. Where to run for next? An Empathic blast wouldn't affect these dead things, he knew. The Healing Gift? Maybe, but he'd have to get close to each one without being killed by the others, and what if they were infectious, like in Haven?

No more time, run!

And so he did.

Date: Mar. 19th, 2016 08:51 am (UTC)
treesus: (Worried: Um?)
From: [personal profile] treesus
Sure, a large part of Trahearne's reasoning for being out here, deep in Orr, where it usually took twenty soldiers to progress, was his familiarity with this vile place. Yet he'd be lying if he said he hadn't struck out alone for a measure of sanity. The seemingly endless risen forces were easier to avoid than whatever new problem was now his problem to solve, no matter how inane.

Sometimes he wondered if the constant bickering between the orders was some kind of test.

He had certainly given the Whisper's agent that had attempt to track him through rotten lands no one knew better quite the test. The charr had lasted five miles before Trahearne had left him near an outpost. He would be safe enough.

Trahearne was not greatly concerned himself, this was a simple enough mission. Gathering information, how many times had he done that? And now he had Caladbolg strapped to his back and the lack of a Wyld Hunt thrumming through his skull. Not that he wasn't careful.

He kept a careful watch before every time he progressed deeper into the rotten lands. Fortunate he did so, for many reasons. One such reason was spotting something rushing along, not at all like a risen. Not at all like one of his soldiers either, no uniform, no proper pact weaponry. But clearly human and alive. Of Krytan descent perhaps?

There wasn't much time for idle thoughts like that, there was a frantic civilian somehow this far into dangerous lands. Trahearne would have suspected an illusion but there was only so many times that trick worked before he could see through it. Which meant one thing, of course.

Trahearne let out a soft sigh and picked up the pace, leading into a run, not drawing his sword until the last moment, bisecting the nearest pursuing undead in the movement. Another swing and several more were blasted back, dazed. It would give them time to pick a better spot. Had the human stopped.

All the same, he turned and started to jog for the nearest shelter. If they could keep up the pace the human had before they should have plenty of time to get under cover, away from the eagles, before they were caught.

"Follow!" he called out. It didn't carry the bark of an order but it still rang of authority. This was his land.

Date: Mar. 27th, 2016 12:14 pm (UTC)
treesus: (Neutral: Talk talk talk)
From: [personal profile] treesus
Trahearne was not breathing quite so hard as Amberdrake but the fight and dash for safety still made him pause and rest a shoulder against a damp, grimy wall before answering. Was he injured? He had plenty of chances to be. Caladbolg was still held in one hand, the light, wooden blade dripping ichor from the undead they hadn't outrun. But- Ah, there is was, the sudden sharp pain in his left shoulder and a trickle of yellow sap from under his headleaves, trailing along a seedpod above his brilliantly yellow eyes.


"Not seriously so," Trahearne replied. He allowed himself a few pants for breath as he checked his system for signs of risen afflictions. Seemed clean. At least internally but the layer of sludge coating much of his lower body was just something he was used to when outrunning hordes of undead.

But about this man... Trahearne had less tact, less training, lesser age, and considerably less social contact. His gaze was openly curious. His empathy was equally open- why would he need to shield anything here?- broadcasting the pain of his injuries, the faint ache in his legs, the deeply buried sense of unwellness from living in this land, and bright, almost childlike, interest and curiosity. How did this man get here?

The way he was dressed, his appearance, he did look very much Krytan. Ancient Krytan. But no ghost he had ever encountered was this solid and he was lacking the whole blue aura business. But one did not get deep into the Cursed Shore by accident, especially not a civilian.

"It is more comfortable further in," he said, with a brief pause here and there for a breath.

Comfortable by his standards. This was one of his many hiding places, winding passages in decaying architecture usually leading to a small area of lesser dampness with a blockable entrance. Since the ritual to cleanse Orr, he had found many of these spots showing fresh growth. Soft marsh plants to rest among, ivy climbing over the barnacles and grime, moss padding out damp earth, and so many mushrooms. To him, it was comforting. For this unlucky human, it might at least make for something nicer to look at than decay.

Date: Mar. 27th, 2016 01:22 pm (UTC)
treesus: (Surprised)
From: [personal profile] treesus
Trahearne had intended to seal the entrance, a single flesh golem would be enough to move the mossy rubble into a decent door. Yet, well, he supposed they would be fine for the time being. He really only needed to seal things when he intended to camp somewhere.

He had left with the mindset that he was not acting as the Marshall today and it was all too easy to be directed around when he didn't have to be in charge of several thousand soldiers, crew, scholars, and healers. This healer was a nice change from a motherly but rough pawwed charr that would have had him out of half his leaves at this point. Not that he let this distract him from his increasing curiosity.

It was one thing to have sharp eyes, it was quite another to know the movements of risen through solid walls. Perhaps he had summoned some kind of minion or illusion to keep an eye out? Trahearne doubted it. There was something very odd here but he couldn't find himself mistrusting this unusual human. That was curious in its own right. He should be cautious here but, no, he had seen too many of their illusions and with Zhaitan dead, there wasn't a risen with enough brainpower to pull off something this convincing. Curious!

The moss was soft and alive where he sat, not at all struggling from what he could tell. He tried to keep the relief and spark of pleasure that his cure was slowly taking hold off his face. Easy enough with how dull his expression usually was here. Empathy was another matter!

"Ah yes," Trahearne replied with a bemused smile. Perceptive? Or was Trahearne overthinking things. He could have well run into a more skilled Whispers agent. Again, he didn't feel that was true. "As well as my left shoulder. If you would not mind, could you perhaps just push the leaves aside rather than remove them? I would prefer not to have to regrow them with limited rations on my person."

And speaking of leaves... He reached under the skirt of leaves around his waist to reach a pouch strapped to his thigh. Out of it came a stained rag. He could at least try to get some of this grime off!

"Ah, as well, thank you," he added quickly. Always be nice to one's healing you! Not that Trahearne was ever more than a bit catty at times. "Might I ask your name?"

Date: Mar. 27th, 2016 02:25 pm (UTC)
treesus: (Neutral: Talk talk talk)
From: [personal profile] treesus
"Amberdrake? Charr-like if anything," Trahearne mused aloud before he realized he had opened his mouth. His empathy bloomed with embarrassment. Travelling alone brought up so many bad habits. Talking to himself again? He thought he had broken himself of that, at least around others. "My apologies. I-" He paused.

There was no real suspicion but confusion spiked in his empathy. Something wasn't right. It had been nearly two years now and he was sitting next to the softly glowing Caladbolg, halfway through the most treacherous part of Orr. Who else could he possibly be? There was no arrogance to that thought. Pact forces sat in every human inhabited corner of Tyria. If he was too bland to recognize, at very least, there was the sword...

And what kind of magic was this? It was not the cool touch of an elementalist and certainly not blood magic. Not light, surely not an elixer, no healing seed would take root here, a human couldn't use sylvari growing magic, not that it felt like that either. This was very foreign and the sudden surprise was not helping his current physical state. A hard knock to the head, two days of forgetting to eat, and now this. The room was spinning and he closed his eyes, feeling suddenly terribly ill.

He must not faint, leaving this stranger defenseless, or start heaving bile. That would just be unpleasant for them both. But oh, so many things didn't add up. He could hear the movement of sap in his ears as his heart rate rose; with as much he had to do and how much of that was either running or fighting, he had something much closer to a human heart than many sylvari. The anxiety didn't help.

"If I may ask," he said in a voice weaker that it had been moments before, his eyes still squeezed shut. "How did you get here? I mean no rudeness but... are you aware where you are?"

Date: Mar. 27th, 2016 09:46 pm (UTC)
treesus: (Neutral: Talk talk talk)
From: [personal profile] treesus
Trahearne was, at least, a very compliant patient. Was this all strange and worrisome? Yes. This magic was unfamiliar, like some mix of necromancer and mesmer, yet his thoughts were steady. Steady as they could be right now. They were not further added. There was a lot to take in and process but he could wait until he was calm.

It was pleasant to be calm without having a small shut down to squeeze out the negative and survive. Why couldn't Tyria have this kind of magic? Or maybe it did, this man could be some place far beyond any exploration before. Recorded exploration anyway. Any kind of strange magic fluctuation could have teleported the man here. This very unfortunate man.

Deep breaths. It was clear Trahearne was used to fighting down this panic, his system strained but his mind more than willing to go along with this soothing. The faster he could be stable the faster he could figure this out. Even if he couldn't figure this out, odder things had surely happened and he was going to get out what he could.

"Forgive me for that," he said when his breathing was even again. His mind was not as sharp as he would have liked but there was only so much helping that while lacking food on top of this. "I can assume you are from very far away." In either time or distance. "You are in Orr, one of the most dangerous semi-explored areas of the regions I am familiar with. As for how you got here, I can only assume unstable magic of some sorts. As for my name, this is no harm in knowing it. I am Trahearne; Marshall of the Pact and one of the Firstborn of the Sylvari. I am unsure if any of these terms mean anything to you."

He ached to reach for his sword, to feel the intense connection to the Dream it had, but that would surely be a threatening gesture. Pity.
Edited Date: Mar. 27th, 2016 09:47 pm (UTC)

Date: Mar. 28th, 2016 07:02 am (UTC)
treesus: (Surprised)
From: [personal profile] treesus
This Amberdrake was very perceptive. Trahearne's hand had barely twitched and that longing should have been locked off to any but another sylvari. He was using odd magic as well... Yet Trahearne could feel nothing from him unless that magic was involved. Hrm.

"It is not that it is a weapon that makes me reach for it," Trahearne said, sheepish. He put a hand over Caladbolg's grip anyway; if Amberdrake was not bothered by it, he'd steady himself further. And it was a relief at once, to not feel quite so far from the Dream. "It would be difficult to fully explain its powers, but they are considerable. It forms a bond to something dear to most Sylvari."

He thought over Amberdrake's other comments, gears turning slower than he liked. "I must assume that gryphons are sentient creatures, wherever you have come from. Here they are not, none that I have heard of." He doubted those gryphons even looked the same.

"You are unfamiliar with Sylvari but I suspect you know of empathic bonds. Excuse me if that was out of line."

Date: Mar. 29th, 2016 02:47 am (UTC)
treesus: (Neutral: Talk talk talk)
From: [personal profile] treesus
More to take in and process. Amberdrake was remarkably unbothered by being in a strange place he had never been in, interacting with a species that even those on Tyria were often wary or surprised by. Talking gryphons, a human with Sylvari like Empathy, and magic like he'd never seen.

And he was in trouble still! There was no winning.

"I appreciate the concern but I will be fine. This is much like my life was for over twenty years before the Pact was formed." Though he really should eat soon. "I will only need to travel another day or so and then I can reach an outpost. I admit I took this longer route in part for a break in my duties, as selfish as that is."

Guilt swam in his empathy and his expression didn't hide it. As much as he needed the break, he really was shirking important work.

"Mmm. To answer your questions; yes I am of the first generation of our species. I was the first to emerge from the Pale Tree, our mother. As for 'made', that would depend on what you mean. Our species is unique, as far as we know, but we are unaware of the true origins of the Pale Tree. Even she does not know."

"We are, however, born fully formed with a decent degree of knowledge in whatever suits us." He paused a moment, still thinking. "We are also the only species with an empathic bond. Only between each other. I can feel nothing from you yet you can feel a great deal from me, it seems."


amberdrake: art from the books (Default)
Amberdrake k'Leshya

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