Adventures in the Far Reaches (for Weiss Ritter)

[Xatarias]

"Good. I swear, the more our rivals breed, the more i'm convinced their collective brain power is divided among them. Each allotment getting smaller with every squalling Donya brought into this world..." Her grumbling died down as she squinted over the ledgers. "Still, I can't help but feel something is hidden in these reports from the foundries... Everything adds up, scrap incoming, billets outgoing... What am I missing?"

You watch as Tysera glares at the tiny script, as if her nasty visage could persuade it to divulge it's secrets. Eventually, the matriarch rubs her brow with a sigh and gives you a weary look. "I'll assign you to the northern patrol along with your lowborn vixen. Three days Orion- and if I get the slightest hint of you shirking your duties, I swear, I'll scrap that ship as a bargaining chip for a new infirmary wing. That means no ducking out of council meetings. There... There is greater urgency that you assume greater responsibility for our family. I hope you understand that."

The clatter of earthenware signals dinner is ready and the twins take their queue to swarm you and Tysera. The normally fierce chief melts as Alec slips under her arm. "Graan, we can't eat until you're done talking~"

"Well I guess matters of state will have to wait. My favorite grandson is hungry~"

"What about Orion?"

"Definitely second place~"

She shoots you a wink, clearly indicating no hard feelings were involved in your recent demotion to lesser grandson.

 

[Weiss Ritter]

A frown tugged at Orion's lips. "What do you mean? You suspect someone is tampering with our supplies?"

It was hard to believe. One would think that the current shortages would make put the foundry and everything tied to it under the closest scrutiny, but the living legend that was his grandmother was rarely wrong where matters of instinct were concerned. Orion craned his neck to glance over the script as well in the hope that he might have some flash of insight that had escaped his grandmother. He suspected it was a futile gesture. Paperwork had never been his strong suit and it was a foe Tysera had been made to wrangle with for years.

Orion nodded with faint eagerness as Tysera spoke, only a twitch in his expression at the word "lowborn" marring his approval. And then came his grandmother's last sentence.

"...I understand, grandmother," The young man took a breath to steady himself. His hands balled balled into fists. Yet another reminder of his mentor's mortality aside, Tysera's command was for the best. She had been right before. He had allowed concern for the future to make him reckless in the present. Repairing the starship was going to be a long-term project, and recovering the salvage to do it while the rest of the clan remained none the wiser a formidable challenge. Both he and Ilyanna would need time in the field to truly perfect their methods and develop their plans. Once they'd mastered the art of salvage smuggling with a team of only two...time would tell. If Tysera was wrong about the shortages being a passing lean season, if the Donya and any others desperate for any solution began to break the Firevein grip on the council, then perhaps even she would concede that Ilyanna and his gambit was preferable to allowing the clan to raid unopposed.

But that was a matter for him to worry about later.

Orion's grin at the twins' entrance went as quickly as it came. His heart nearly skipped a beat when he looked to Tysera. Was this because of Ilyanna? Grandmother couldn't-Oh.

He rolled his crimson eyes at the wicked matriarch. "Are you sure you don't want Alec to attend the council meetings instead? I think he could convince steel to smelt itself with a pout,"

Orion's smile returned in spite of himself as he rose and offered his grandmother a strong hand up.

 

[Xatarias]

Tysera gently swats you away, but only after taking advantage of your hold to leverage herself up. There was something melancholy in knowing that such a fierce leader had been reduced to utter dependency on her family. Her authority hinged upon the direct support- or at least secrecy- of everyone within the four walls of your home. Some part of you realizes that this delicate balance couldn't last... And where would Cloudclimber be without its fearsome battle mistress at the tiller? Orion Firevein was a talented dandy to most of Skyhold and would never command the same respect as a proven war leader and administrator...

Dinner is a pleasant affair. Whatever lingering gloom from your uncertain future was dispelled when Syndra used a direcrab claw for a mustache and deadpanned a perfect impression of the Elder Donya. Even your prim and composed mother cracked a smile.

Once the plate were clear and the children tucked in, the days trials catch up with you. Burning Ta Moko for hours on end was well within your capabilities, but it had the effect of building fatigue for when you finally dropped the augmentation. Weariness hits you like a wall, and you barely remember making the climb to your bedroom loft and falling into your hammock. You dream of a soft world with a yellow sun. Ilyanna's dark tresses flowing on the wind as she walked barefoot down a garden path...

 

[Weiss Ritter]

(Apologies for the text wall and semi-random segway. I had that dream written up awhile ago thanks to a burst of inspiration and really wanted to use it )

Orion took another steadying breath on his way to the table. With the good-natured ribbing out of the way, he was left only with thoughts of an ominous and uncertain future. A small part of him wondered how terrible a thing it would have be if the Firevein grip on the council was shattered. The Cloudclimber had certainly survived before his grandmother came to dominate her competitors. He'd be free to actually enjoy life, without a crippled body or the expectations and ravages that only politics could inflict upon a person. He could certainly live with "just" being the clan's greatest warrior.

...But it wasn't just about him. Whatever their differences, both Tysera and Ilyanna had made it quite clear what fear-driven policies his grandmother's firm grip was holding back. How many more children not unlike him or Devin would be shunned, bullied, or worse without even a chance to find their true potential if those who believed the clan couldn't support the "weak" anymore prevailed? How many families would suffer the same pain the Fireveins had when the venom finally overwhelmed his father's defenses?

It was all Orion could do to not sigh and frown outright when he took his place at the table. It was a testament to Syndra that she was able to get a broad smirk and chuckle out of her elder brother despite the thoughts swirling about in the darker corners of his mind.

Sleep couldn't have come swiftly enough for the exhausted warrior. A sweat and pleasant dream of Ilyanna and the golden world she had shown him eased whatever tension lingered in the young man's body. And then...

*******

Orion was basking in the warm afterglow of a perilous yet successful hunt. The young warrior exhaled a heavy and contented breath as he soaked in the sensation of warm and clean sheets, a soft mattress, and a pleasantly hard body pressed tightly against his own.

“Was” proved to be the operative word. Orion didn’t need years of sharpening his senses as a hunter or the superhuman powers of observation his precious Insight band gave him to detect the tension in Sarisa’s movements against him.

“Thinking about Ezra again?” He glanced down at the scarlet-haired huntress resting her head on his bare chest. Sarisa hesitated to answer. Her silence was all the answer Orion really needed.

“Yeah…” She sighed softly and squeezed him a little tighter.

Orion reciprocated. His hand glided up his hunting partner’s well-defined back and passed gently through her hair to massage her scalp. He heard her grunt softly and felt some of the tension leave her body, but her melancholy air remained.

“There’s nothing you could done…” Orion murmured. It wasn’t an idle attempt to comfort. His Insight band had made him painfully aware of the fact that day. The Firevein prodigy maintained it for what felt like an eternity, watching their comrade lose his footing in the wake of their true prey only for an opportunistic depthmaw to lunge up at the perfect angle to seize his throat. He and Sarisa had both been too far away to strike it, and nothing the jungle around them had to offer would get them close enough, or make it to if hurled, to the depthmaw in time even with Strength and Speed bands flaring at full force.

At least it was over mercifully quickly. For Ezra, at least. Time moved incredibly slowly for Orion whenever he flared his Insight band, but it did move. He caught every micromovement in the young hunter’s fearful features before finally giving in.

“I know…” Sarisa sighed again. “I just…I can’t stop thinking about it. What if I kept closer to him? Maybe…traded places before…?”

Another helpless sigh.

“…I’m sorry,” Orion rested his head atop her’s. The hand that had massaged her scalp moved back down to her back to give it the same relaxing treatment. “I’m not sure if those kinds of feelings ever really go away. You just…Well, the way I see it, everyone’s going to die sooner or later, but that just makes what we have now that much more important. And I’d like to think that we do more to honor our friends and ancestors by carrying their memories with us to live as well as we can rather than mourning them forever.”

Sarisa was silent for a long moment. Long enough for his heartbeat to quicken. Had he just made things worse? Said a bunch of stupid nonsense to someone who’d lost people they loved in more than just their over-active imagination?

“Hm…” Sarisa’s emerald gaze swept across Orion’s face. “You’ve never had to lose someone close to you, though. I mean, really close to you.”

The young man frowned and felt his body subtly tensing. Yet rather than tear into him, the huntress gave him a weak smile.

“Relax, Orion. It’s not bad advice. It’s just not that easy to live by. Still…” There was a hint of mischief in Sarisa’s voice that stopped him from relaxing entirely“…I think that’s the most interesting bit of pillow talk I’ve had in awhile, Orion. “

Sarisa chuckled softly. He sat in silence and stared up at the ceiling. She might have had a point. Losing comrades he only had once he returned from Tysera’s trials was one thing, but what about the people who had been in his life through thick and thin? The ones who consoled and sheltered him from the ravages of his body and the bullies alike?

Grandmother was getting old. Her condition seemed to worsen with each passing day. Ilyanna…Ilyanna was safe in the priesthood, but Tysera was growing more and more insistent that he marry into another councilor’s family. He still wasn’t really sure what she wanted. The priestess enjoyed their banter and teasing as much as ever and he had come to dread the way her expression tightened whenever he even mentioned other women, but if she wanted more, why didn’t she just give him a real sign? Why did she back away whenever he made a semi-veiled inquiry…?

…Why hadn’t he just asked directly already? Before, he was fresh from the grueling, often torturous trials and wasn’t sure where they stood after all that time. Before, they had all the time in the world to just feel things out and enjoy other’s company in ways they couldn’t when he was a cripple and she was only just learning routine maintenance. Now, though…now time was the enemy that made its claim on his mentor and grandmother clear even as it threatened to do the same to Ilyanna through the clan’s elderly champion.

Sarisa must have felt a change in the air or noticed a shift in his expression.

“Are you alright, Orion?” She looked up at him with naked concern and didn’t seem appeased when he feigned a smile and nodded. “You know...I just realized that as much time as we’ve spent together, we haven’t really talked about you all that much, have we? We’ve talked swordplay and joked around, but I can’t remember the last time I talked you through anything serious like this.”

Oh shit.

Sarisa was looking up at him thoughtfully. There was no malice in her gaze, but her emerald orbs glinted with curiosity and more than enough intelligence to wheedle out at least some of the answers she wanted, one way or another. Answers no doubt pertaining to his legendary grandmother, the trials she subjected him to, or the eccentric shamaness he always seemed to have time for.

“Sarisa, could you do me a favor?”

“Hm?” The huntress tilted her head.

“Try not to scream loud enough to wake your parents.”

Orion’s sudden smirk was the only warning the crimson-haired huntress had before he threw up the sheets and pulled back. Sarisa’s reflexes were honed by years of experience and her movements were more than swift enough to triumph over many of the formidable predators that stalked this world, but both paled in comparison to Orion’s.

“Orion!” She hissed, torn between laughter and rebuke as he seized pressed her thighs apart. “O-Oh! O-orion…!” The hiss became a groan, which in turn trailed off into an eager moan under the tender assault his tongue and lips waged against the huntress’s sex. The exquisitely honed thighs he’d pressed apart locked around his head and neck while one of the hands that failed to stop him pressed Orion’s head harder between her legs.

The Sarisa’s other hand was pressed over the huntress’s wide-open mouth, forming a makeshift gag as Orion’s licking, nipping, and kissing drew forth muffled groans, moans, and cries. The first of many climaxes was quick to come, for Orion showed his lover little mercy. Sarisa had only just enough time to catch her breath and shoot him a semi-serious glare before the waves of pleasure coursed through her again, and the mighty huntress was forced to concentrate entirely on making sure her none heard her squeals.

“A-ancestors shun you, Orion…” Sarisa groaned some time later, though without enthusiasm and in the same breath as she pressed her body back against his.

Orion smirked and nuzzled her face. His jaw was a little tired, but that was about it. His grandmother’s conditioning and supernatural gifts were truly marvelous things even outside of a hunt or expedition.

Sleep quickly forced itself on the weary huntress and Orion surrendered to it as well not long after with Sarisa’s sweat taste still lingering on his lips and her athletic form tightly embraced by his.

Problem solved…

*********
Orion groaned when he finally began to stir awake. His body may have been relatively well-rested, but the memory and his thoughts from the night before ensured his mind was somehow both sluggish and whipped into a frenzy at the same time. More evenings than he cared to admit had gone this way once Tysera's condition really began to deteriorate. Many more were probably going to end the same way so long as time itself seemed to conspire against him.

The young man forced himself to sit up and drearily began to rub the sleep from his eyes. Maybe the morning meal would be enough to get his mind back in the present. If not...well, he had a whole class of younglings to train and a few ideas on how to do it already. If that wasn't enough to shake him out of his funk, then nothing short of a miracle from the Ancestors or an uncharacteristically earnest Ilyanna would.

 

[Xatarias]

You hear the creak of the ladder and your mother peeks up through opening in the floor.

"Good, you're up. Tysera said your class would be waiting at the proving grounds." With a practiced motion, she lofts a pair of your leather pants onto your bed. The trusty article was much patched duro-mesh with and whatever else your mother had on hand. "'Get yourself dressed."

Sometimes the role of "man of the house" never seemed to manifest any authority. You forced down and quick breakfast and submitted to your mother painting ocher symbols on your arms, chest, and face. Most warriors didn't take their role as trainers seriously enough to bother with the formality of inscribing the Instructor's Mark, but it was a badge of honor your mother seemed insistent you exhibit.

"We want you visible to the younglings, but more importantly anyone who happens by. The proving grounds are a short distance from our district and it will do the people some good to see you while Tysera is otherwise... Occupied."

She capped the sticky pigment and gave your forehead a quick kiss before disappearing back into the house. Your duties were only a short walk away. The abrupt nature of your appointment meant a request for the use of the Archives was off the table, but then, most of your training didn't make use of flashy holograms or constricted regimens. In fact, you suspect your class would be disappointed if the legendary wimp-to-hero simply ran them through a prefabricated training session... Pity there were no depthmaw dens nearby...

 

[Weiss Ritter]

...Come to think of it, when had being "man of the house" ever translated into something resembling authority for Orion? When he was a cripple utterly dependent on his family and Ilyanna for safety and sanity? After he returned from the wilds and Tysera tried in earnest to mold him into a worthy successor? Ancestors, had his father ever really been able to exercise his own influence under the shadow of the titaness that was Orion's grandmother?

On a normal day, that line of that would probably have warranted a wry grin from Orion on his way down the ladder. Today it took serious effort to not allow a a frown to mar his handsome features during the morning meal. Just when he'd gotten a taste of freedom, time began to conspire against him.

Orion, unlike many of his peers, was happy to allow his mother to paint the Instructor's Mark upon his body. Many of the other warriors might have viewed training duty as an amusing diversion from their true purpose at best and a thankless, petty task at worst. To him, however, it was a breath of fresh air. Orion might have made peace or even became on good terms with the hunters he regularly risked life and limb alongside. Ancestors, him bedding some of those huntresses was a minor legend in and of itself. But he never forgot that they and so much of the clan had regarded him with pity, apathy, or even scorn before Tysera saved him.

All the younglings knew was that he was a hero to be admired. There was no tiny voice in the back of his head whispering to him every time that the warriors-in-training were no true comrades of his.

"Thanks, mom," Orion managed to offer the woman a faint smile before she disappeared back into the house. He was feeling slightly better as the proving grounds came closer and closer into view. Hopefully the sight of the younglings themselves would be just the thing he needed to fully shake off the gloom still clinging to his thoughts.

A few ideas of what to subject his charges to sprang to mind already. Even if their parents would have permitted it, Orion hardly intended to subject them to half of what Tysera's hellish instruction had been...but that didn't mean he intended to coddle the children. Hopefully the proving grounds was still relatively well supplied. If not...well, depthmaws or no, the wilds would provide for him where the clan could not.

 

[Xatarias]

You find the proving grounds much the same as when you were a youngling. The durosteel underfoot was polished to a dull sheen from generations of boots. Rock walls, climbing nets, sparring pads, and of course racks upon racks of mock weaponry. The place smelled of sweat and iron- a testament to the countless hours its occupants spent in grueling training regimens. Some talented warriors remembered their time here with fondness... For others it was a hell barely endured and gratefully forgotten.

Your class trickles in, the earlier arrivals taking to the obstacles, sparring, or chatting with friends. You recognize Devin, who was clearly trying not to make your acquaintance a subject of attention. You can understand- special attention from the instructor often earned the scorn of classmates. Some kids from your district are clearly excited at the prospect of being taught by one of their own. The Donyas among them do little but scowl.

The morning bell rings out and the would-be warriors hasten to formation, the last few skidding to a stop before rigidly standing at attention.

 

[Weiss Ritter]

A frown tugged at Orion's lips as soon as he sensed the Donya children's displeasure. Did that massive family of theirs have a handful of less impressive Tyseras living among them, grousing nightly about the arrogance and stupidity of their Firevein counterparts? Ancestors, their little psuedo-feud was getting bad...

"Well, everyone seems to be here. Good," Orion's crimson eyes scanned up and down the younglings' ranks. The blond warrior began to back and forth before the assembled warriors-in-training as he spoke. "A strong warrior can survive any challenge the jungle sets before them, but it takes a clan to truly flourish in this world of ours. We may have our disagreements, but never forget that we are all members of the great clan Cloudclimber. Our enemies are outside Skyhold's walls, not within it. It took all the strength our ancestors had to carve our place in this world, and it will take every form of strength our clan can muster to maintain their legacy-whether it comes from a warrior's blade, a shaman's knowledge, or a healer's touch. We are all comrades here, no matter how we strengthen the clan."

Orion came to a halt and made a sweeping gesture to the obstacle course ringing the proving grounds. "That's the lesson I want you all to learn today. We'll start with a few runs through the course as a warm-up, and then I want to you form into pairs and rotate for some sparring. Take your time with both. Study your environment and your comrades. Make sure you have some grasp of how to work with both and don't be shy about helping each other out. It's important you don't tire yourselves out too much. Once you finish with that..."

The legendary Firevein crossed his arms. His smile barely changed, yet something about it became unsettling. "I'll be your opponent for the real training while our ancestors are being hoarded in the archives..."

While his charges rushed to begin their exercises, Orion would have been doing some studying of his own. Notes would be taken of where each youngling needed to improve both on the obstacle course and during the duels, as well as when they succeeded or failed to cooperate with and respect their comrades. Every time one of them made an especially grievous mistake or seemed to be in danger of ingraining bad habits, Orion would have stepped in to aid with recommended adjustments to their style or choice of weapon.

 

[Xatarias]

The youngings scurry to their assigned task, vaulting and climbing through the obstacle course with a smooth precision that told you it hadn't been updated in some time. Maybe a few extra snares on the back end or adjusted timing on some of the swinging blocks...

Warm up completed, the class pairs off and sparring takes place under your direction. Ta Moko flare as a cacophony of thuds fill the air. Their are no acrobatic flips or flashy flourishes here, just brutal tactics of attack and counter attack. Cunning sweeps followed by finishing strokes and vice-like grapples are executed with fearsome precision. You offer encouragement and advice where you feel it will make the most impact, calling halts when an instructive moment arrives. Casting a practiced eye over the lot of them, everyone seems to be performing within the bounds of reasonable expectations. Some are more talented than others, but circumstance and luck gives everyone a victory here and there... Everyone except Devin.

There isn't any malice in Devin's opponents as they dispatch the amputee. Every form the boy knows was designed for two arms, not one, and it leaves gaping holes in his defenses that are easily exploited. Time and again, the would-be mechanic falls to his knees, forced to yield or is thrown from the sparring circle when his one good appendage is locked in a hold.

 

[Weiss Ritter]

All things considered, Orion was fairly pleased with the way things were going so far. He probably would need to tighten up his standard drills to stop his students from becoming complacent, but it swiftly became clear they had and were still taking their instruction fairly seriously in spite of the family-based misgivings some had. There were no attempts to show off to be found here, only devotion to the mastery of the fine art of striking and deflecting with as much skill and thought as strength and brutality when it was called for. Just as importantly, the younglings didn't let him down when it came to the disadvantaged among them.

He watched as the boy was cast to the ground again and again by every opponent sent his way. Not one of them saw fit to mock the amputee or begin strutting about as if they had achieved some great victory. Perhaps they simply knew better than to try while Orion was standing right there. He preferred to think it was maturity on their part or the well-known twists and turns his own life had taken inspiring them to be more cautious about dismissing their struggling peers, but it was decent start no matter what.

"Hold," Orion commanded as he approached Devin and the amputee's current dueling partner. He tried his best to suppress a frown. The critical flaw in Devin's training up until now was so painfully obvious he had to wonder how it was allowed to progress as far as it had. Did some other instructor simply not bother to adapt the boy's training out of either laziness or malice? Where muscle-memory was concerned, bad training was worse than none whatsoever.

"Those forms won't serve, but I know a few that will," If Devin was not already equipped with one of the lighter practice blades that could be wielded one-handed, Orion would have offered him one and then set about adjusting the amputee's stance. Devin's body was shifted sideways to make his body a smaller target and his footwork adjusted to allow for free yet respectably strong steps in the unorthodox stance. The boy's practice blade was guided up between him and his opponent.

Fencing was what it had been called in the archives. As far as Orion knew, it was an obscure school of swordplay the clan's ancient ancestors had made use of that. He'd learned of it in his younger days, when he was still a boy tortured by his own Ta Moko desperate to find something, anything, that could have allowed him to fight without straining his body enough to invoke that agonizing pain. Orion never became a true practitioner of it, the more conventional forms he'd mastered and innovated from to create his own forms with seemed more consistently useful against the countless dangers of the jungle, but his desperation during those dark days had made him and avid student and observer of the ancestors holograms whenever they were allowed to demonstrate for him.

Orion tried to couch Devin through some the basic strikes, parries, and footwork just to see whether the new forms were viable for him or not, as well some on-the-spot extrapolations on how the one-armed boy might have been able to avoid instant defeat through being grappled. Learning a whole new form after Ancestors only knew how many lessons not tailored for an amputee would have been a titanic undertaking for even the most avid of apprentices, and Orion himself was probably going to have to do a fair bit of learning too if he seriously intended to competently instruct this exotic style.

 

[Xatarias]

Devin rigidly copies your movements, the linear style of combat foreign to the youngster's body. Still, with his rubberized sword extended and his body turned to maximize reach, his opponent has a hard time getting within striking distance... To the point of frustration. It's only after a haphazard lunge on Devin's part that the burgeoning huntress slips under his guard and delivers a sharp rap to Devin's collar bone.

The treatises detailing old world rapier fencing were a neglected by the clans battle masters for good reason. Presenting your blade prominently as a line of defense limited a warrior's Ta Moko enhanced body to engage and augment his bladework... Something Devin seemed rather incapable of anyway. This little trick you imparted to the amputee would likely be learned by the class, but if he managed to advance the techniques as fast as they got used to them. Maybe, just maybe he'd have a shot at earning a place beyond the class punching bag.

You notice one of your better students Vyllen raise her hand. "Master, what use would that form be when mobility was required. It seems useful in the context of dueling... But I can't imagine another instance- engaging another war band for instance." She doesn't outright defy your authority, but there still is a tension hanging upon the air. You suddenly realize why Devin was so neglected by his instructors. The one-armed boy was a project unto himself and there were two dozen other younglings that deserved to be as prepared for the trials as they could possibly be.

 

[Weiss Ritter]

A faint but approving smile took root in Orion's expression as Devin staved off his opponent's assault. It didn't diminish even when the huntress punished his mistake with a blow to his collarbone. The fact that the amputee was able to stand his ground as long as he had with an alien form was a pleasant surprise in and of itself. If that wasn't proof that all Devin needed to have a shot at fulfilling his true potential was someone with the knowledge and willingness to instruct him properly, what was?

Orion eagerly gestured for Vyllen to speak up. His smile remained but cold water was dashed on the warm and fuzzy feelings he'd felt stirring within. "I'm glad you asked, Vyllen."

The warrior gestured for Devin to allow him to bother the youngling's practice sword and shifted into a basic fencing stance. The motions were more fluid than Devin's, but were still a rough departure from the smooth perfection that usually graced Orion's swordplay. "You're right. The footwork this form requires may struggle against the jungle, and it favors advancing or retreating rather than shifting around to an enemy's flank. Holding your sword like this makes it difficult to attack the enemy with your body's full might. However-"

Orion subtly tipped the blade down and thrust several times in blinding succession into the eyes and heart of an imaginary foe. "It also allows you to control the flow of battle more reliably. Unless you make a mistake, your blade will always be there to counter the enemy's attacks or harass them onto terrain that benefits you more. If you're fighting alongside your comrades, these quick thrusts are well-suited for exploiting or creating openings in the enemy's defenses. They're also precise enough that you could be standing shoulder-to-shoulder with your allies and still run little risk of tripping over each other's attacks,"

He lowered the blade and returned it to Devin's grasp. "It's no secret that every weapon and every form has its own strengths and weaknesses. For most of you, the trade-offs of these techniques may not be worth it, but I think there is still something to learn in competing against them."

Orion made an off-hand gesture to the huntress Devin had stalled. "Sometimes it's not the best technique that wins, but the most unexpected. If the enemy can take you off-guard with an exotic technique, you may not get a chance to exploit whatever weaknesses it has. Our clan hasn't fought with another for...some time. We don't know what weapons and tactics they may have trained their warriors in since, but I suspect you'll be better prepared for a clash with another war band by being exposed to more than just Cloudclimber's standard techniques."

Whether or not the martial lecture was genuinely accepted or not, Orion wouldn't have relaxed. It alone hardly addressed the true nature of Vyllen and her classmates' concern.

"Devin, there are a number of archive entries and simulations I can recommend if you decide this form works for you. I can provide instruction when you need it, but you may have to adjust some of what you learn to accommodate you," He said as he stepped back to observe the class in action once more.

Orion tried to strike a balance between aiding the student who needed his help the most with the rest of younglings. He kept an eye on Devin's duels when not preoccupied with the others and stepped in only when Devin was in danger of learning bad habits or grappling with a flaw no amount of blows from his opponents were able to push him into overcoming. The rest of the time, Orion was flittering from one duel to the next with his usual mixture of encouragement and advice. Perhaps the other students wouldn't get as much time with him as desired and perhaps Devin wouldn't progress as rapidly as he could, but Orion wasn't about to abandon the rest of his charges and wished to see just how swift and determined a learner Devin was.

The drills continued long enough to be productive before Orion called for this class to stop. "I hope you're all warmed up and brimming with new ideas,"

The scion of the Fireveins smiled as he reached for two practice weapons: a spear and a two-handed blade approximating his personal sword. "You'll each have to face the Trials alone, but once you succeed, you'll rarely be without comrades. This challenge is meant to put what you've learned so far to the test, and see how well you understand how to work with your allies and exploit your surroundings."

Orion dropped the spear to the ground.

"Guard this weapon from me. I'm going to look away and give you some time to coordinate and prepare. You can place it wherever you want in the proving grounds and make whatever adjustments to the course you want so long as you can undo it once we're done here."

 

[Xatarias]

You give the students some time to make their preparations. While not explicitly trying to eavesdrop, you can't help but overhear several voices conferring, some trying to override the others with orders. Seems like your lesson had caused a disturbance in the pecking order. When the squabbles die down, you stride back into the chamber, practice blade at the ready...

And are promptly ambushed. Vyllen leads the charge, clearly assigned to the role of pinning you down while her cohorts move in from the flanks. The talented huntress emerges from an unassuming pile of climbing net that appeared undisturbed since class had begun. Her cleverness gains her the initiative and you almost have trouble avoiding her spear thrust. Almost.

Six students, mostly from the Donya district hem you in, harassing, but never committing to a full-on assault. They intended to prod your defenses, covering each other from your attacks, waiting for a mistake. It was a textbook for fighting large jungle game- you probably should be flattered.

Parrying and dodging, you still had a dozen or more missing younglings to consider. Not to mention the spear was nowhere in sight. It hadn't occurred to you before, but class time was technically limited and you would appear to be a poor sport extending lessons just so you could have the time to win. This was their plan- they intended to keep you here until the evening bell was sounded. Two hours from now.

 

[Weiss Ritter]

Orion was a little concerned when he overhead the squabbling. He'd expected some disagreement over leadership and strategy, but the fighting sounded a bit more intense than that. Whatever the consequences of his lesson, though, there was little Orion could do about it now without ruining the main event.

"Excellent, Vyllen!" The Firevein champion called out with a broad and sincere grin before the girl's rushed to take advantage of her ambush. Perhaps his worrying had been a little premature after all.

Orion spent some time simply savoring his students' efforts. In between the parries and swift evasions, the warrior lashed out with firm slashes and thrusts of his own to keep the younglings on their toes and test the strength of their formation. When his Speed Band flared, it was at the bare minimum he needed to deal with the coordinated efforts of his half-dozen assailants. His mastery of the clan's martial arts may have been beyond the grasp of most, maybe even all of them, but they could learn far more from being tested by it rather than his Ta Moko-given gifts. This was a training session first and a competition second, after all. Even the time limit was a distant consideration at best. His pride was quite capable of surviving if his class managed to pull out a victory over him.

They would have to earn it, though.

If the first wave's formation withstood his test, Orion would have made a more earnest effort to escape the trap. He lunged forward and feinted an opening in his defenses with a fearsome jab. If one of the younglings took the bait, the Firevein's heavier practice blade would have snapped down to hammer and pin theirs to the ground before he attempted to leap over them. A swift kick working in tandem with a one-handed jab from his sword would have been brought to bear against the younglings on either side of the one who had fallen for Orion's feint while his free hand pressed down upon their shoulder for support.

If the maneuver was successful, The blond would have made a dash for the obstacle course and stopped only to hurl any training weapons left unattended on the racks at the legs of his pursuers. The climbing nets, rock walls, and such were the most obvious way to bottleneck the younglings' superior numbers and command a greater view of the proving ground to find the spear he'd marked as their objective. Orion was certain the class would see it coming. In fact, he was counting on it.

The Proving Grounds weren't as elaborate as any of the simulations he could have constructed in the archives, but as Vyllen had demonstrated, there was material here a resourceful student could exploit. Ideally the aspiring tinkerers among his students would be able to make use of the netting, snares, swinging blocks, or something completely unexpected. As he'd said, and Ilyanna dreamed of demonstrating, there were many kinds of strength one could use to master the wilds.

 

[Xatarias]

Weapons clatter as you rake aside a flurry of blows. Some find their arms pinned under your superior strength, others are disarmed all together. Their captain pulls free first, lining up for a powerful thrust, but you were already moving with the grace of Firevein's greatest prodigy.

Vyllen curses as her crew's plan was foiled. Parrying their attacks, bounding through the gaps between bodies, you slip away towards the obstacle course. A band of near-graduates would wear you down eventually, but your stamina could maintain an impressive degree of mobility. You could take some time analyzing their formations and bait out traps. After that, it was a matter of locating-

You hop up onto the climbing net, only to have your legs grabbed by one very determined Vyllen. She grimaces, dodging your kicks as her comrades follow suit and grab her legs. Soon, you find yourself holding up an entire squad of younglings... Needless to say, it wasn't a sustainable situation.

 

[Weiss Ritter]

"Ngh...!" Orion grunted as the full weight of the younglings-no, nearly fully trained and simply unproven warriors-was brought to bear. Unsustainable indeed. If his arms didn't give out first, then reinforcements would soon catch up enough to start climbing the net alongside him to peel the stubborn Firevein off.

If he had the luxury, Orion would have congratulated Vyllen and the others again for forcing his hand.

His strength band flared fully as his sword-arm released its hold of the net, leaving him dangling by a single but inhumanly mighty thread. Though the weapon was intended to be wielded two-handed, the power and weight behind Orion's swings at Vyllen's arms and hands would be more than enough to send painful vibrations running through the very core of her bones-stopping just short of risking any actual breaks of course. Right now, Vyllen was the key link in his disciples' chain. If her strength failed, they'd land in a crumpled heap and he'd have all the breathing room he would need to put the pressure back on the class.

 

[Xatarias]

Vyllen grimaces as you pummel her digits, loosening her grip on your leg. The huntress and her companions fall in a tumbled heap and you were free and away, climbing to the top of the net. Along the closest wall were numerous artificial crags and boulder fields. Filled with ambushes no doubt, but was the most secure place you could think of hiding the spear.

Alternatively, there was the obstacle course- a twisted array of tunnels, mud slicks and countless traps of the most wicked design that flirted with line of cruel and just plain lethal.

Suddenly this game of hide and seek was becoming more daunting. Half the class hadn't even revealed itself yet and you hadn't made much progress... And if Vyllen had her way, you wouldn't get the chance for a careful search. Vibrations beneath your feet tell you that the strike group has begun its ascent.

 

[Weiss Ritter]

Orion's mind rushed to take advantage of the all too brief reprieve he'd won. His class had given him the choice of walking into one near-certain ambush or another.

It didn't take the blond warrior more than a moment to make a decision, however. Once again, this was a training exercise first and a contest second. He spun about on his heel and made a dash for the obstacle course. He still wanted to see what the more creative and technically inclined among them might have been able to accomplish now that Vyllen and her pack had demonstrated their progress. Perhaps it would be enough to seriously slow him down!

...If not, then Orion would just have to show his charges how a master-warrior could turn even the most hostile hunting ground against his enemies.

 

[Xatarias]

You dash through cramped labyrinth of tunnels and pitfalls. A padded pendulum whooshes overhead nearly knocking you to the ground. You roll, anticipating the next movement... But the second rib-cracking swing fails to execute. A malfuction

Whoosh

Some student had adjusted the timing, adding weight to extend the trap's arc. This time, your are forced to drop prone and crawl forward to safety as the strike group gains ground. You pick yourself up and head towards the course's nexus. A thud and a pained cry signals that one of your pursuers didn't make it through. Someone would be doing a few remedial laps.

"Second route! He's taking the second route!"

You hear the impact of booted feet on the tunnel ceiling. Groups were vacating the rock walls and reinforcing the area... Which meant there was something worth protecting. Of course even if you were closer to locating the spear, being outnumbered in an enclosed environment didn't increase your chances of winning this competition.

 

[Weiss Ritter]

Orion's heart beat swiftly in his chest as a faint grin formed on his features in spite of his predicament. The class certainly knew how to keep the pressure on him. A second route, though? Unless the small army leaping into action above-ground was just an elaborate ruse, that meant the spear was likely hidden somewhere on the course that could be reached from both the obstacle course and the ambush-ridden crags and rock walls. That would give him some direction in this labyrinth of tunnels and traps, at least.

The warrior pressed onward, deeper into the heart of the obstacle course and whichever of the tunnels might plausibly lead him to the spear. His body and sword were at the ready while his senses strained to sense any more surprises the more innovative of his class might have left for him in the obstacle course. True, he would be at a disadvantage if they could catch him in one of the broader portions of this course that would let them use their numbers while limiting his mobility, but Orion's chosen path could still serve his ends so long as he was swift and prudent.

The tunnels would bottleneck his students if they tried to attack him while he traversed them. Their numbers would be turned against them as each step their vanguard was forced back would drive them all into some waiting trap. Even if the worst came to pass and he found himself assaulted from both directions, it still would have been preferable to being outright surrounded on a more open field.

 

[Xatarias]

You emerge from the tunnel with Vyllen's group still clamoring behind. Your insight band flares, making you aware of slight brushing sensation against your foot. You barely manage to snatch your limb free from a triggered snare. The metal cable cracks like a whip, grazing your cheek. One more beauty mark for the huntresses to fawn over...

In the midst of the open area of the obstacle course, you keep your heightened senses open, scanning your surroundings for anything out of the ordinary...

They had done a good job. Footprints raked over, equipment and traps arranged just as they had been or modified with haste to give you some extra trouble. But there was no way for them to conceal the bruised leaves of a straggly weed that had taken root near the mud pit. Just as you considered whether it was worth a second look, Skyhold's main generator cycles, causing its typical vibrations. The mud ripples and you can just make out the outline of a long straight object concealed in the muck.

Half a dozen younglings drop from above, weapons ready. They had seen just as you had and knew that deception was no longer an option.

 

[Weiss Ritter]

Orion flinched and hissed at the lingering sensation of the metal snare's kiss on his cheek. He had no time to waste examining it in detail, but the cut felt like a very shallow one. Good. "I took a wrong step during training" wasn't a very heroic tale to behind even a temporary scar, and he could think of several other places he'd prefer an inquisitive huntress to run her fingers over...

Orion proceeded with more caution than haste into the center of the obstacle course. To all outward appearances, his eyes conducted a rapid scan of the open chamber. His insight band ensured it was anything but. Every object was closely scrutinized, every potential clue noted, and the location of each trap memorized. He had good reason to be proud of how far the class had come. Skyhold's generator sent ripples through the patch of mud Orion had been eyeing, erasing any doubts as to where the unblooded warriors had hidden the objective of this little game.

Clever.

The younglings dropped down with their weapons raised just as Orion took a brisk step forward to end the hunt. His blade was raised into the opening form of an advanced martial stance in a barely visible blur of movement. The Firevein prodigy's crimson eyes flickered across his half-dozen foes and their last line of defense even as he shifted to let the chamber's wall guard his rear flank. A path, albeit a dangerous one, was laid out before the blond hunter's gaze. His students at set the traps, but the mindless machines recognized no master. As long as he stepped with care and held his ground, he could use them against the younglings.

Orion advanced another step, doing what he could to force the class into a position that would limit their numbers lest they dared risk springing their own traps.

 

[Xatarias]

The younglings had the advantage of numbers, preparation, and a defensive objective. They didn't need to beat you, simply contain you. When Vyllen's group made its appearance, there would simply be too many for you to take the plunge into the mud pit and not expect to be dragged out and sat on by a small mountain of would-be warriors. Funny as the image was, it would mean losing... And Fireveins never lost.

You dance through the obstacle course. Some of the younglings probably were familiar with the adjustments to the traps... But not all. A padded boom swept away one brawny youth and another vanished into a pit fall. You engaged a couple front runners until your insight band flared, urging to give them an opening. They eagerly lunged for the kill when a cable snare snatched them up, leaving them dangling in a comical embrace.

Vyllen lets out a scream of rage seeing how far ahead you were. There was no one to stop you from making it to the spear. There was no getting around how much the mud would restrict your movement, but you were so far ahead, victory was a forgone conclusion. You plunged in, waist-deep in the muck...

And then one very filthy Devin popped up from the far end of the pool, his one hand gripped around a blow gun pointed directly at your bare chest.

ppfffft

 

[Weiss Ritter]

Whether the younglings were acting out of the fear that he would steal the spear right out from under their nose if they failed to pressure him or a desire for the glory of bagging a renowned Firevein, Orion was all too eager to use the younglings' aggression against them. Their martial forms were skillful enough, but hasty attacks and a few well-timed parries from him guided them into one trap after another. He admired his handiwork just long enough to be sure the entangled hunting party wouldn't be wiggling free for the next few seconds he'd need to claim his prize.

Vyllen's enraged shriek was almost enough to earn a grimly satisfied smile from Orion. He hoped she'd prove him wrong, but the young huntress sounded like she was losing her cool. One overly-hasty step in this chamber would see her strung up or at the bottom of a pit just the same as her less gifted comrades.

A reflexive frown tugged at Orion's lips as soon as the mud swallowed nearly half his body, but it didn't matter. All he had do now was reach out and take-

Devin burst from the mud just as the Firevein released one hand from his blade to grasp the spear. Orion's crimson gaze was widening and his heart thundered in his chest.

Shit!

He desperately leaned to the side with as much swiftness as the mud all but holding him in place permitted and then hurled his practice blade straight at Devin's chest. If he couldn't avoid whatever toxin coated that dart, he could at least ensure he didn't get a second dose. Being disarmed wouldn't matter if he could just keep Devin at bay long enough to get that Ancestors-shunned spear!

 

[Xatarias]

A spray of mud vacates itself from the end of Devin's weapon, leaving you patterned with an awkward trail of muck, but otherwise unharmed. The burgeoning mechanic knew he needed his weapon clear to dispel the dart he tucked safely in his cheek, free of grime. His strength band flared as your sword cracked against his neck and shoulder. Painful, but nowhere near as much as being kicked across a workroom by one of Ilyanna's contraptions.

Your dodge to the side only made his job of aiming all the easier. You felt a prick in your chest... And your limbs grew sluggish. Devin sees you moving for the spear, thinks for a moment, and then reaches out with his blow gun to nudge the weapon a few more feet away. You were so close....

"Erm, sir? I have another tranq from the med kit, but it's not safe in multiple doses so..."

 

[Weiss Ritter]

Orion gritted his teeth when Devin proved sturdier than he expected. If Ilyanna's de-facto apprentice's aim had been thrown off at all by the maneuver, the tell-tale prick Orion felt in his chest proved it wasn't enough. The tranquilizer's effects kicked in almost immediately. Worst of all, Devin had the presence of mind to bat the spear safely away from Orion's outstretched hand.

It wasn't far. He could still move, and if he really burned his strength band, Orion was willing to bet that he could brute force his way through the mud swiftly enough to grab the weapon before the tranq or Vyllen's reinforcements brought him down. There would be no chance to avoid a second dart from Devin like this, though, and the youngling's warning gave him physical pause.

Fireveins didn't lose and he was eager to prove that his might trumped any toxin-Shadowlgen or no-, but what had Tysera always said about the difference between a warrior and a leader?

Orion's body relaxed and he forced a smile in spite of his clenched jaw. "I haven't heard the evening bell ring yet, and I'm not about to see if I can give lectures and demonstrations with enough tranqs in me to get a hexapuma tipsy. So...I guess your class gets to count this one as a win. Congratulations."

Orion twisted away from the spear and moved to pull himself out of the mud before his limbs got any weaker. It could have been worse. He wasn't sure if he'd ever live it down if this ended with him as the foundation of Mt. Youngling or humiliatingly snared for two hours while the class took turns whacking him for each attempted escape.

Assuming he didn't find himself trapped in the mud pit, Orion would have crouched down to offer Devin a helping hand out. "Come on, you've got classmates get disentangled and I have instruction and remedial laps to give out."

 

[Xatarias]

You managed to extract yourself from the mud and help Devin too. Even under the thick layer of grim coating his face, you can tell the earnest mechanic is struggling to hold back some expression, resulting in a bizarre grimace that evokes your curiosity. Asking him again only makes his semi-concealed smirk worse and you realize how thick your tongue was feeling. You suppose commands issued from a drug-addled, lisping instructor were more than a little comical.

A slow burn from your strength band allows you to power through the worst of the drug's affects, but you do see more than one youngling lose it when you trip over a series of "s" sounds. Devin earned a few congratulations from his fellows, but the mechanic only has eyes for Vyllen, bouncing on the balls of his feet when she passes and offers a grudging nod. Oh man... Way over his head. Turns out your young friend was well-over his crush on Ilyanna.

 

[Weiss Ritter]

Devin's smirk earned him a flat look from Orion. Okay...yes, he probably would have done a worse job of keeping it together if their positions were reversed, but still!

Orion tried to refrain speaking as much as possible while he helped get the squad of younglings loose from the snares and pulled others out of the pits they'd fallen into. One of the rescuees was trembling even as the Firevein pulled their leg free from the cruel metal cable. What should have been a sharp rebuttal about how much more ridiculous the youngling looked with their ass hanging in the air just reduced them to a giggling fit while Orion backed off with a resigned sigh.

It could have been worse...

Devin's swooning was the silver lining that earned him a faintly smug grin from Orion. The little tyke was aiming higher than he'd given Devin credit for! And now he wouldn't have to worry about any of those tranqs "accidentally" winding up in his shoulder the next time Ilyanna gave him a teasing kiss.

Back on the surface, before the assembled class, Orion secretly prayed his strength band wouldn't fail him as he went through the closing motions of the day's training. Overseeing remedial runs through the obstacle course for those who had failed to respect its hazards the first time bought Orion more time to brace himself against tranquilizer's effects before it was time to share his mental notes with the class on how their techniques, collectively and individually, could be improved. The drug meant that Orion's demonstrations were not their usual displays of brutally efficient yet flawless martial prowess, but as long he performed no worse than his lessers, the students were bound to learn something.

"So..." Orion put much more effort into not stumbling over that one word than he would have ever admitted as he sensed the ringing of the evening bell drawing near. "One lasht lesshon before you all run off to...to brag to your famiries..."

Please don't laugh, please don't laugh. This is important...Ancestors smite me now if the Donya have a field day with this...!

"For...those of you who want to become great warriorsss...never schtop. Never stop im-improving. Never take your enemies' defeat for granted. Clever thornape or...Sha-Doh-Glen warrior, they can learn and adapt. One unex...unex...surpriszhing move or trap, and even the greatesht warriors can fall." Orion smiled wryly and flicked where Devin's dart had punctured his flesh.

When the bells rang and it was unofficially time for the class to be dismissed-barring something else coming up of course-, Orion would have given them leave. Save for one.

"Oh, Devin? Few minutes. Notes on the holo-sims for you."

 

[Xatarias]

The class stares at you with solemn expressions as you lisped your way through your little speech. One caves and lets out a snort of laughter but is quickly thumped by his neighbors. You knew that they desperately wanted to be released and wanted to give no reason for more remedial lessons. At your dismissal, they gave a chorus of 'thank you sir' before bursting out from the courtyard like a wave, scattering to their neighborhoods with whoops of laughter.

"Notes, sir?" Devin asked, fidgeting awkwardly. The covering him was starting to dry and he periodically picked off a large slab before coming back to attention.

 

[Weiss Ritter]

A desire to avoid punishment may have been the class's primary reason for indulging him with a bare minimum of laughter, but Orion hoped the message would sink in once they were done celebrating evening's freedom. There had been no shortage of murmurs about desperate times call for desperate measures and the idea that raiding another of the clans would be a simple matter for the warriors of clan Cloudclimber. Even he had made the mistake of considering a private salvage run into the disputed territories without really considering everything it would entail. As this training session had proven, it was never that simple when an intelligent foe was involved. Especially if they were wounded or disadvantaged enough to start thinking outside the box or resort to desperate measures of their own.

"Yesh." Orion winced. The lisp was getting very old very quickly. "Some of them will be useless to you. Their forms assume a knife in the free hand, a small shield, or a...a..."

The warrior frowned and made a flapping most behind his back. "...Fabric on your back that would get snagged on a branch five paces into the jungle. It's ridiculous. You'll want to skip levels A-7, B-3, B7..."

Orion glanced across the training field to make sure it had been well and truly vacated.

"...Just between the two of us, don't bother with it at the expense of preparing for your entrance exams for the temple. You're a fast learner and I think you may have given me some ideas with that last trick of yours, but unless you really, truly want to become a warrior, I think distracting you from the studies you're actually interested in mastering will you more harm than good. But I suppose you already knew all that?"

Orion smiled wryly.

"I'm here if you want to make up for lost time where your swordplay's concerned, but warrior or priest, I'm rooting for you as long as you work your hard at it. Fair enough?"