[Locked to Redflight] Sent into battle

[telaari]

Who: Vastania and the Red Dragonsworn
What: After a bit of divine inspiration, Vas is digging in her hooves and organizing people.
Where: The Ruby Sanctum
When: Backdated to the 5th
Warnings: Nothing NSFW, but Vas is likely to literally knock some sense into people if they're stubborn. Nothing that'll hurt too bad, but enough to rattle most people.

"I kneel before You to beg Your aid."

The words of the prayer come more easily to her in Eredun than in Common. "I carry Your standard in a strange land, far away from the reach of the Exiles.

"There are demons at our neck. Guide my blade and let it cleanse them of their corruption. Let my shield be immovable, unable to buckle beneath their terrible blows.

"Grant me the strength to face my maddened forefathers. Let me not fall into their corruption even as I strike them." A pause. "Grant me the strength to tell my allies of the Defiled Ones, and bless them with the sense to see that I am of Your domain. Let them see that I am Exiled for following Your command and that of the Prophet."

Another pause. Her voice drops to a whisper, even though she knows that no-one else here speaks her native language.

"O Light, grant them sense, and me the strength to lead them!"

She waits, still kneeling, for an answer. The Light stirs, but it offers none.

Vastania waits a while still, silent. If Fin could see her now, she'd likely laugh until her tail fell off. No- Fin would knock her onto her tail and tell her to get back up, that's what she'd do. She'd ask what she was doing, dragging her hooves and moping when there was work to be done. And she'd have had these humans trained and drilled ten days ago.

The Light stirs again. Your answer.

The Vindicator looks up sharply. The Light is usually not very straightforward, but even she understands what this means. She utters a word of thanks and draws herself up, sheathing her sword. To be more like Fin... she closes her eyes for a moment and imagines what it must be like, to have those outstretched horns and heavy armor, carrying that claymore as if it was a feather. What it must be like to be so surefooted, so confident, that she might go into battle with a smirk on her face.

What she would do to prepare them if she was here. What she would do if the others refused to listen.

She walks to the edge of the Sanctum's central pond, then turns so she faces away from it. Vas breathes in deeply once, twice, to quell her shaking nerves. A third time, to clear her head.

A fourth, to issue her command.

"Dragonsworn, to me! Today, you will learn to be soldiers in this war against the Legion!"

Comments

Carolina is regretting this decision already (open to thread-crashing!!)

[guerriera]

One of the few things anyone learned in the Redsworn once they had been settled for a few days was that Carolina needed no inspiration or prompting to train.

Career military, UNSC affiliation or otherwise, if she wasn't found asking questions about the Legion, examining maps of key regions of interest to the Red Dragonflight in Azeroth or prowling the Sanctum like one of Mar's mythical reaver-bears, she was training. She hadn't found a weapon to replace her guns yet in a way she felt comfortable, something that left her uneasy, but she had seen no need to let her CQC skills slip. The dragons charged with care of the armory had already replaced one of the test training dummies, and had found it beneficial to have any healers practice shielding on the second they'd set up for her.

That Vas AND Mar were making something of a racket today hadn't been missed, however, and eventually Carolina took a break from her own workout to meander over and eye the training sessions in progress.

[telaari]

Carolina is a bit of an enigma, one that Vas hasn't allowed herself to try to solve. She walks like a soldier, talks like a soldier, and dresses like a soldier - albeit one from a very different world than she's ever encountered. Maybe it's because she can't recall a time she's seen the human out of her armor, but she has that bit of Fin-ness to her; that comfort in one's skin even when covered head-to-toe in full plate.

And honestly, it's more than a bit intimidating that she seems that way. Vas unconsciously stands a bit straighter, stands at attention, even though there's no possible way that Carolina could outrank her.

"Agent," she says, lowering her horns in greeting. "I do not believe that you have... introduced me to the ways your people fight. Perhaps you might teach me?"

[guerriera]

Carolina's armor is a defense against the world. It's fortunate she lacks her helmet - that would truly have hidden her from sight, and not necessarily for the better. Nonetheless, if it walks like a duck.. Well, she may not rank Vas on the draenei's home plane but Carolina is used to leading a squad. To being top tier. (To say she's struggled with being less than the best would be an understatement.)

"Vindicator Vastania," she replies, her nod short, before green eyes flickered to the few redsworn warming up and working out under the blood elf paladin's eye. Maybe she's disappointed, maybe she's not, but she's not seeing anything particularly outstanding in their routines. Or perhaps she's just used to the grueling schedule she set herself in the Project.

Vas' question pulls her attention round, however. "My 'people' don't have any one way of fighting," she says, carefully, warily, forcing the ridgedness out of her stance. "Everyone gets the same basic training, but after that, different paths to follow. You get the Helljumpers -- our ODSTs. The regulars, and specialists. Same as any army."

And SPARTANS. But Vas doesn't need to hear about them. "You need a bit of everything to face the war we're dealing with."

[telaari]

The whole of what Carolina says makes sense, even if it leaves her wondering what an odii estii does. Probably something unpleasant, if they're called 'Helljumpers'.

"Yes, variety is important - but I don't believe I've seen you take up a sword or cast a spell. And this," she indicates her bright blue armor, "is not subtle, like what rangari wear." She touches her chin in thought, tilting her head. "You wear plate, yes? Do you not carry heavy weaponry into battle?"

[guerriera]

You had to be brave as all hell, and no small part crazy, to be an ODST. But Vas wasn't asking, and Carolina felt no desire to elaborate. Perhaps another time.

"It's designed for defense, and while it's heavy, it's.." No, it is that heavy, but the equipment is designed to protect her, to provide life support and monitor her and her surroundings. Run her speed module... For all the good most of that does when she no longer has her helmet.

For a moment, Carolina's lips flattened into a thin line, before she folded her arms over her chest. "No, no heavy weapons. I'm a martial artist primarily, though I have training with guns. Not that you've any artillery here that I'm used to." And she wasn't about to mentioned the failures she'd had attempting to shoot a bow when away from the Sanctum, um.

[telaari]

The image of Carolina carrying around a human-style blunderbuss seemed somehow... comical, and Vas tries to banish it before she breaks into a giggle fit. No, she's sure that Carolina's people use something a bit sleeker than anything used by the humans of Stormwind - not even the best smiths among her people could design something like her armor and expect it to hold up in the heat of battle. Clearly it must, if she's a martial artist.

And if she could reliably hit something with an armored fist, she may not even need a weapon.

"Yes, I'm afraid that guns are not very common tools, even on the Azeroth I come from," she says, looking over at the armory forlornly. Oh, to have an airship's guns... "Is there any one martial arts style that you have studied? Do you strike like a Pandaren monk, or are you more of a," she pauses for a moment, the word on the tip of her tongue. What's the word, like jed'hin but without the crest-clashing- "wrestler?"

[guerriera]

No weapons quite so comical. But there certainly are guns large enough that a double take to look at them would likely leave you with your brains splattered across the ground if they were turned on you.

Rolling one shoulder, then the other, Carolina didn't miss that forlorn look. "I can make do with what's there." She has to. They all do. They don't have much choice in that respect. Then the redhead made a quizzical face. Pandaren? What the hell is that? "I'm not from your world, so I doubt any styles I know would mean anything to you. But I'm not a wrestler." That has always been Maine, and Texas. A flash of something dark flickered across her features, before she turned back to the draenei.

"What about you? I know the sword and shield aren't just for show."

[telaari]

"As a candidate, I studied all the common weapons in a Vindicator's arsenal. The spear and the halberd, the hammer, the mace, the shield, and the sword." She taps a finger on the edge of her shield for emphasis. "Every student has to be able to use them all, but if there is one that suits you best, you are expected to master it."

Here, at least, she can find some solid ground. Common words start to come to her more easily, and she relaxes her shoulders a bit. "But even if you don't, a Vindicator still studies the Light and its ways. We are more than our arms and armor."

[guerriera]

"Sounds like a thorough education." She was serious when she said that, Carolina settling her weight to one foot as she folded her arms across her chest. Although her frown deepened at the last.

"Someone else here mentioned Light too. Bariyan, I think." She'd seen the man visiting the armory, and training at a distance, but he still seemed lost, lamenting the magics that seemed to have deserted hum. "What is it, exactly?"

[telaari]

"Bariyan... Bariyan..." Vas strokes a tendril, as if it might prompt her memory. "Human, yes? I don't believe I've spoken to him."

She twists a tendril around her finger, stalling for more time. She's tried to explain the Light before, but of all the non-Azerotheans, only those blessed by it have understood what she said. Explaining it is nearly like explaining scent to someone without a nose. "The Light is... the Light touches all holy things, things that are alive or blessed. It lends strength to creation and can mend the damage caused by destruction.

"You and I are both living things, so the Light dwells within us. Things that have no soul, things that have been tainted by Fel magic - those are the things that the Light cannot touch, except to cleanse them of their unholiness."

She shifts back and forth on her feet, squinting slightly. "Does that make sense to you?"