Maridian (
seesbosscrotch) wrote in
warforged2014-06-15 02:48 pm
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Those Who Oppose His Shield Must Yield
Who: Maridian and OPEN
What: Demons are bad. Mar fights demons.
Where: The forests around Silverglen.
When: Various times on various days.
Warnings: Violence. Mar.
Maridian fought demons.
The way he spoke sometimes -- things like saying his life was less valuable than anyone else's, saying that he would take insane risks and go up against impossible odds -- one might think that Mar fought with less discipline and discretion than Leeroy himself.
But not only did Mar not have the Jenkins title, he had also cut a swath of heroic violence across five continents, two worlds, and a couple of elemental planes, and one didn't achieve that by slamming oneself into a massive foe pile and then dying horribly underneath it.
So in the forests around Silverglen, Mar fought tactical battles against packs of demons. With his shield raised and defensive spells cast on himself, he singled out the weakest foes and struck them down first, healing himself frequently and, if needed, retreating from the stronger foes to eat, drink, and regain his strength for a second encounter.
The going was slow, but effective. If it wouldn't put a massive dent in the demon population, well, Mar never claimed it was meant to. He was fighting for the sake of it, as a release of frustrations and as a way to take some sort of actions while he pondered what more he could do.
What: Demons are bad. Mar fights demons.
Where: The forests around Silverglen.
When: Various times on various days.
Warnings: Violence. Mar.
Maridian fought demons.
The way he spoke sometimes -- things like saying his life was less valuable than anyone else's, saying that he would take insane risks and go up against impossible odds -- one might think that Mar fought with less discipline and discretion than Leeroy himself.
But not only did Mar not have the Jenkins title, he had also cut a swath of heroic violence across five continents, two worlds, and a couple of elemental planes, and one didn't achieve that by slamming oneself into a massive foe pile and then dying horribly underneath it.
So in the forests around Silverglen, Mar fought tactical battles against packs of demons. With his shield raised and defensive spells cast on himself, he singled out the weakest foes and struck them down first, healing himself frequently and, if needed, retreating from the stronger foes to eat, drink, and regain his strength for a second encounter.
The going was slow, but effective. If it wouldn't put a massive dent in the demon population, well, Mar never claimed it was meant to. He was fighting for the sake of it, as a release of frustrations and as a way to take some sort of actions while he pondered what more he could do.
no subject
The sounds of battle however only meant one thing. Someone was making the choice to run in and decide to fight against the Legion. She knows to avoid it. Let the person be because either they're insane or mistaking their own strength. She takes a moment where she curses herself but she'll turn around and start towards the sounds.
She swears by the Light and by her love of her former homeworld, she will blast multiple creatures with lightning if need be. She will also remind herself that she must also be going insane to go chasing after the sounds of battle.
no subject
But for all that, Mar didn't seem to be doing too badly for himself as he faced down a Felguard. The bodies of a few imps lay around him in a circle, where he'd struck each down in turn. An open wound bled freely on his cheek and he likely had serious bruises beneath his armor, but a spell of holy magic shielded him and even as she rounded the three to spot the conflict, his mace turned away a blow from the felguard's great blade. In that moment of hesitation, Mar flung his shield at the demon's face, making it grunt in surprise as the paladin snatched his returning shield out of the air and presented it as a barrier once more.
Standard Azerothian battle fare. Nothing to write home about.
no subject
It's fortunate that she's been spending time re-communicating with the Elements. Eagerly, and perhaps rightfully so, she calls on their aid. Their aid at the moment happens to be in the form of a lightning strike to the Felguard. A little flashy but if there's one thing she knows it's that lightning hurts.
no subject
The paladin had definitely not been expecting to see Vala. She was so eager to not die in this battle, why was she outside? Maybe the Legion packs weren't so thick as to pose an imminent threat, but that wasn't what he expected of her.
But hey, he wasn't complaining. "That ought to speed this up a bit!" he said cheerfully, as he struck a mighty blow with his mace sheathed in holy energy. The felguard responded with a strike that glanced off his shield as he angled it aside.
chrome kept eating my tag ;;
She called for another strike, lightning to startle the Felgaurd back and create an opening. All she could figure was if she gave him a big enough opening without damaging him that he could go ahead and finish that bastard demon off. Hopefully after that she could get out of here without any concerns of people running off and dying.
no subject
"Good shot," Mar said cheerfully, as he did a quick search of the demon's corpse as was traditional.
no subject
She folds her arms across her chest. "Now the question is, what made it seem like a good idea to run off and start fighting demons alone?" Because that was pretty important in her books. Even if she didn't like him, she would prefer he wasn't running around and fighting demons to get himself killed or anything like that. They did need people to stay alive.
no subject
"Hmm," he said, as he tossed a few silver coins up into the air, then snatched them with his mailed fist. Did she want her share, because she could totally have it. "For one, the semi-illusion of progress and a contribution to the safety of the world in general. This demon pack will be replaced, but that will take some time and energy on the Legion's part, and in the meantime it's one more pack that can't cause harm. Trivial considering the size and scope of the Legion, but better than nothing.
"Second," he said, lifting a finger, "self-evaluation and practice. I'm still weaker than I ought to be, and there's no way to really gain skills other than legitimate combat, and no way I can be sure of where I stand except for it. Third," and he lifted another finger, "frustration, which would be very badly expressed if I turned it on anyone who didn't really deserve it."
Mar thought he had pretty good reasons, anyway...
no subject
"I suppose I can't entirely fault you, all things considered. Although there's better ways to handle frustration." Not that she was a prime example of this. She did a poor job of handling her frustration most days. "I hear some people take up a hobby, go stay in a different village." She shrugs. "Some people have a drink." Valamia certainly wished she had a drink...or five.
no subject
As much as Mar focused himself on his actual martial abilities, he had a fairly diverse array of supplementary knowledge and other skills. But none of them were of use here outside of cooking and fishing, and who could take that much fishing?
"We really need to see about getting some faster transportation."
no subject
One deep breath later and she lowers her hand from her forehead. "How is that a concern in this situation? A speedy mount isn't going to be of much help against the Legion. Not unless you plan on fleeing them faster. Or maybe drive head first into a horde of them without any regard for your life, I suppose it would be useful."
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"What about going around them and getting places faster? Or finding more places accessible? Think about how large this continent must be, but to keep safe we're limited to as far as we can safely reach on foot right now. If we had mounts, we could travel further, perhaps find more allies or at least not-enemies, and maybe even set up some production of goods if we could shuttle some raw resources back..."
He trailed off, as an idea suddenly hit him.
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"If you're going to plot something, do it somewhere safer. I'm not intent on staying around and taking part of some meager struggle against the Legion." She has no issue turning her back to him. It might be strange considering she places no trust in him either but...well she has little to lose in this place. He was alive at the moment. He was also not in any obvious danger so no reason to stick around, right? "Go to the village or the sanctum. Someone is bound to be upset if you stay here and get killed for your own stupidity." Valamia isn't walking off yet. She's waiting. Once she can hear his footsteps or sees him walking part her, she's going to take that as a sign that she can leave him safely.
no subject
"I'm not going to get killed. Whatever you might think of me, engaging this patrol was a very conscious and deliberate choice I made because I knew that I could take out the imps, then get out of range of the felguard if it was beginning to overwhelm me. I might value my life lower than, say, the Vindicator's..."
He drew the massive blade Zin'rokh from its resting place on his back, flipping the weapon up and over his shoulder in a complete circle that left it buried in the back of the Felguard. Mar's expression, if she cared to look, was nothing but contempt -- not for her, but for the demon. "But it's certainly higher than theirs."
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She doesn't walk off. She turns on her hoof, walks over to him and gives him a right hook to the face. "If that's the case, if you seem to value your life more than a demons don't waste it. You have no reason to believe that imps and felgaurds are the only demons around here and no reason to believe with absolute certainty that you'd be able to get away." There's a moment where she has to take a few deep breaths because there's few things she hates more than being that reckless. She wanted to add that he should never, ever compare his life to Vas's as his life would never matter as much as hers did but she figured that went without saying. "If you're going to do something stupid take someone with you, preferably someone who you won't get killed."
no subject
At his side, his sword hand clenched into a fist, just briefly -- not out of any desire to return the blow, but sheer frustration and annoyance. For a moment, he was tense irritation and anger... but then he visibly slumped in a slight clatter of armor, that clenched hand raised to press against his forehead as he ticked that much closer to quiet resignation.
"There is no guarantee. It's a calculated risk. A very calculated risk to someone who's spent his time dodging abominations in the Ghostlands, Sons of Arugal in Silverpine Forest, fel reavers in Hellfire Peninsula, giants in Howling Fjord... Believe it or not, I do have some idea of what I'm doing out here and some experience in it. So long as you keep assuming that I'm a reckless idiot eager to impale myself on the first pike I see just for the sake of doing so..."
So long as she kept doing that, she'd always see his contributions as worthless. Which was a pointless thing to say, no matter how much it harmed their ultimate goal here.
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"Look, we're not exactly in the spot for this run off on their own nonsense. Experience only helps so much." It only keeps the crazy ones alive for so long. "How many times do you think a person has claimed they can handle themselves, had the ability to do so only to run into the unexpected and die? Believe it or not, I'd prefer if we don't start suffering causalities already. That includes you and whatever rationality that your crazy self brings."
Maybe she did feel a little bad for hitting him. She shakes her head. "There's a time for boldness and this isn't quite the time for it. Maybe another time in the future but not now." It wasn't an apology not by a long shot but it might be the closest a person like him could get from her. She didn't and likely never would have much love for blood elves, much less one whose so...strange.
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Mar withdrew his sword from the body and the ground both, spinning it onto his back as if it weighed nothing. "But I won't let myself die here and now. That would be an insult to pretty much everything."
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"If you seem to believe that, you should act like it. So far there's been little reason to truly believe that coming from you." It occurs to her that they're still standing there and she groans in frustration. "Can we have this whole talk somewhere else?"
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The fact that he had been doing this exact sort of thing for years, and yet she was treating it as entirely impossible to do and survive, was what really got to him. How had she ever ended up in the Red flight, to begin with? Bronze would have suited her much better. (A quiet vindictive part of him suggested 'black', but he wouldn't go there.)
"I really don't feel inclined to 'talk' when it's going to be a long explanation of how everything I've done couldn't have actually happened."
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Not that she expects him to listen. If there's one thing she's learned since Argus it was one thing. Everyone who could use the Light thought they were special little creatures, saviors and grand protectors with no grip on reality. That or utter hardasses. She was starting to see the kind she was surrounded by. "Unless of course you do think that your years of obvious expertise in everything makes you an expert. That the Light will constantly protect you and that you are making such a grand difference on your own. By all means. Go engage more felguards. Get yourself torn to pieces." So maybe she didn't do a good job of keeping her cool.
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Though he gave out one amused little laugh, despite his frustration. "But I'm not a Vindicator, you know. I'm a Blood Knight. If the Light is protecting me, it's because I used to cast a protection spell and because its energies infuse my blade and my armor. The Light itself doesn't give a damn about whether I'm alive. It's a tool to keep myself that way. If you're going to hate me and my decisions, hate them for what they are, not because of what I use."
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She wants to kick him, her hands curl into fists and she's doing everything she can not to either punch him or kick him and break his ribs. "I will hate them because you seem to be terrible at understanding that a war isn't fought alone and that if anyone wants to get home, treating it like a war is the best option. Which means setting up outposts, setting patrol routes through the land among other things." She's pretty sure she's arguing with a brick wall at the moment but elements help her, she is determined to make him get her point. "But fine. Make your power the central focus. Be the clear savior and pay no mind to anything else."
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"I don't need to gain strength to be the hero. I am a hero already, by any definition, because of the risks I've taken and the battles I've won. Oh, not alone -- I had allies to stand by my side and the might and logistics of the Horde at my back, but this way, my way, was as every bit as necessary as patrols and outposts and all that. Malchazzar, Kel'thuzad, the Lich King, the Old Gods -- they didn't fall to coordinated armies, they fell to me and people like me, who dared to walk into their home and take the fight to them! The greatest of the Legion fell on Azeroth! Archimonde died when he walked this world, and Kil'jaeden tried to break his way through into the Sunwell, only to be defeated there as well. Defeated, I might add, by your people and mine working together, which is something you seem phenomenally eager to ignore. Azeroth is the one world which the Legion has failed, time and time again, to conquer, but you're so completely bereft of hope you're not willing to see the significance of that."
Now he'd gotten a good head of steam going, which led him to start walking back in the direction of the Sanctum, gesticulating wildly with one hand as he did. She'd wanted him to get out of the forest if he was going to argue, right? "But here, now? This isn't a war, because a war implies that there's more than thirty people against effectively unlimited numbers. This is a guerrilla resistance at best, and as such, techniques like patrols and outposts are completely meaningless when we haven't any sort of way to staff them, provision them, and reinforce them! Instead, we have to rely on our small group's power and ability being superior to the forces we face, whether that power is the Light, the elements, arcane energy, or simply raw skill with weapons. Which means we need to develop it, and which means those of us that have it already need to be at the top of our game and well-aware of exactly how our maximum strength will serve us against the enemies we're facing. And the more we develop that strength, the better our odds of claiming victory!
He stopped abruptly, looking up at the sun to orient himself directionwards. "But patrols and outposts still would be a good thing, wouldn't they? Absolutely they would, and since we don't have the manpower ourselves to create and supply them, what could be smarter than relying on the people and places already here?" Mar pointed in more-or-less the direction of Silverglen as he started walking again. "If we win friends among the locals, we can rely on their established patrols and outposts at the same time they can rely on our strength and the ability to take on odds they alone couldn't. Which, if you'll so kindly remember, was one of the first damn things I did here, winning favor for us by demonstrating to them exactly what we would bring to that alliance!"
Throwing both hands up in the air, he continued, "But then our work with Silverglen was sabotaged by all those accusations against us, and the Sin'thalas elves decided to be assholes about the whole thing. So our efforts, including my efforts, to get exactly the things you're demanding for us are back to square one, and out of frustration with that I thought maybe I might be allowed to unleash some of that frustration through the very skills that we'll be relying on to achieve victory with, and in the process see just where I stand against a demon pack so I can better plan future endeavors -- but I'm starting to think that I have the major and unforgivable crimes of having hope and attempting to act against me in all circumstances!"
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"Yes, yes. If you could spare this all until we're not as to close packs of demons that would be great." She tried to sound a bit less frustrated then she had previously been with him although it didn't work. She sounded angry still. The only thing that changed was that she went from looking like she wanted to break half of the bones in his body to indifferent. All Valamia wanted at the moment was two things. To be out of the woods and for him to shut up. She didn't expect either of them to happen soon.