Apprentice
gender: Male
status: offline
Alias: Victor Kaliba, though not remembered
Race: Arisalonian, Light Blessed
Gender: Male
Age: 24 Apparent Age
Clan/Family: Arensir, a Surname assigned to him by the people of Svikinstad
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Post by Aros Arensir on Aug 10, 2017 16:39:48 GMT -8
Victor had been rather touched at Ray's gesture. It lingered in his thoughts even as Solarion borne him higher into the sky before entering a breakneck dive past the cliffs of the high setting of the People's Palace, pulling up only scant feet from the grasp of the sea below. He had never felt so free, than when flying Solarion. It had brought back the idea of his sister, and just how much he needed to ensure his twin had the same sense of freedom.
The Forge held that promise. He had just today spent most of the day working in the Armory, the Mythril loom was a complicated machine, and he consulted the instructions and codices multiple times before committing raw materials. Making the weave was a difficult process, but it wouldn't be his job to put the weave together.
"Tsk, Solarion let's head home!" he shouted out against the wind as Solarion climbed higher from his dive soon above the summit of the crag the People's Palace had turned into something of a mountain castle overlooking the cosmopolitan New Arisalon.
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Apprentice
gender: Male
status: offline
Alias: Victor Kaliba, though not remembered
Race: Arisalonian, Light Blessed
Gender: Male
Age: 24 Apparent Age
Clan/Family: Arensir, a Surname assigned to him by the people of Svikinstad
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Post by Aros Arensir on Aug 10, 2017 16:46:48 GMT -8
Few people could help him in the beginning of his task, even if it'd be his sister who really put it together. It was tradition of a sort, to make one's armor personal. His own knightly plate had no small amount of his own workmanship. His armor, just like Big Sis, was a composite of various styles all working together to accomplish the most noble of goals.
Staying alive.
The armor was an expression, a tactical choice, and an almost sacred coming of age for any Arisalonian who played at battle more than magic. While Genesis Letlove straddled that line, especially with his often obsessed presence in the archives, he knew more than a little about substances like mythril and what it'd take to do just what Verity wanted.
Solarion landed in the East Garden, a rougher place without statuary, but instead with ancient trees said to date back to Lelante, one of the first Imperial Cities. The East Garden was elevated, a short walk from the palace up a stone stair. Solarion had taken the place to be his. No one had yet argued the point.
Dismounting and taking off the harness from the barding Solarion had started to enjoy (oddly enough) Victor threw it over his shoulder and began the short walk back to the close grounds of the Palace.
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Apprentice
gender: Male
status: offline
Alias: Victor Kaliba, though not remembered
Race: Arisalonian, Light Blessed
Gender: Male
Age: 24 Apparent Age
Clan/Family: Arensir, a Surname assigned to him by the people of Svikinstad
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Post by Aros Arensir on Aug 10, 2017 17:41:38 GMT -8
The hallways of the Palace were elgant but austere, and it felt very much like the Paxium- a place destroyed recently by a splinter group of the Magistrum. Reign had slain their number, and Trent had resumed control of the Magistrum upon his return as the senior (in talent and ability) wizard in New Arisalon- known to be a favorite of the Goddess of Magic- both of them, when there was such a thing.
It was easy to stay focused in such a calming place, so he didn't get too distracted as he put aside the harness and set thoughts to finding Letlove. That all went to hell when he heard Kerrigan's some how familiar scream.
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Newbie
gender: Male
status: offline
Race: Arisalonian
Gender: Male
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Post by Genesis Letlove on Aug 11, 2017 4:53:53 GMT -8
Letlove had been returning to his quarters after a supper of meat stew and deliberations. Even though he was now clearly more versed than the others, he still found the back and forth mentally invigorating. It was then the shrill scream came tearing into his thoughts.
His pace hurried some, tracking the source round an adjacent corridor...
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