- Messages
- 50
- Character Biography
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Istra followed after Talus, mimicking his movements once out in the open and crouch-walking. A handy spell, that fog, perfect for concealment of movement and a quick escape. There were a number of spells with such utility for her occupation; shame that she did not have the aptitude for some of them. Others were simply born with the potential to become an Archmage, a Maester. People like her father--with the latent gift of being able to grasp any magical discipline that put their mind to. This peculiar and disparate dispensation of talent seemed a universal rule, and not one that solely applied to magic.
She was not the perfect agent for the Order of Speculatores. But she sought to adapt and overcome with what toolset she was afforded and had acquired.
Like now.
They made it to the cliff face, the Stone Giant still occupied with the remnants of Hardin's treasure seekers. At Talus's prompting, Istra worked her magic and shoved her hands into the once fully solid rock, scooping out two staggered handholds. She pulled herself up and placed her foot in one and reached up with her hand and began the methodical process of carving out that makeshift "ladder" of holes in the cliff. One hand and then the other, moving up carefully, left leg right arm, right leg left arm, a pattern established. She tried to be careful with her removal of the altered mud-like stone, giving each handful a hearty toss behind her such that it wouldn't fall directly down on Al or Talus and splatter on their faces.
She didn't look up. Nor did she look down. Either would have been...possibly disastrous for her nerves. So she kept her eyes mostly forward, only tilting her head upward as much as she needed to see the craggy character of the cliff and its shape. A few times the cliff bowed out in a terrifying manner; even if the convex protrusion was as shallow as could be, the sensation of falling backward was inescapable. Her breastplate scraped against the rock when she pressed herself close as could be to it.
Up. Up and up she climbed. Sweat darkening the red of her headband.
At last her hand reached stone that she did not need to Alter, the edge of the cliff where it leveled off. She pulled herself up and over that edge and rolled over onto her back on that ascended ground, staring up at the sky for a moment, quite glad that she was no longer needed to hold onto anything for dear life. Yes, her magic could have saved her if she had slipped--giving the dirt below a bouncy, spongy texture to cushion her impact into insignificance--but the utter sensation of falling was terribly unpleasant.
After some relieved breaths, she rolled over onto her hands and knees and pushed herself up into a kneel. The switchbacking road to her right, going further up, and not much else. The dense forest was far below them.
The closest thing to her to hide behind was a spiny shrub. And so Istra took cover behind it. Waited for Al and Talus to finish their climbs. Took that small moment to let her arms and her legs rest after such an exertion.
Talus Alakir
She was not the perfect agent for the Order of Speculatores. But she sought to adapt and overcome with what toolset she was afforded and had acquired.
Like now.
They made it to the cliff face, the Stone Giant still occupied with the remnants of Hardin's treasure seekers. At Talus's prompting, Istra worked her magic and shoved her hands into the once fully solid rock, scooping out two staggered handholds. She pulled herself up and placed her foot in one and reached up with her hand and began the methodical process of carving out that makeshift "ladder" of holes in the cliff. One hand and then the other, moving up carefully, left leg right arm, right leg left arm, a pattern established. She tried to be careful with her removal of the altered mud-like stone, giving each handful a hearty toss behind her such that it wouldn't fall directly down on Al or Talus and splatter on their faces.
She didn't look up. Nor did she look down. Either would have been...possibly disastrous for her nerves. So she kept her eyes mostly forward, only tilting her head upward as much as she needed to see the craggy character of the cliff and its shape. A few times the cliff bowed out in a terrifying manner; even if the convex protrusion was as shallow as could be, the sensation of falling backward was inescapable. Her breastplate scraped against the rock when she pressed herself close as could be to it.
Up. Up and up she climbed. Sweat darkening the red of her headband.
At last her hand reached stone that she did not need to Alter, the edge of the cliff where it leveled off. She pulled herself up and over that edge and rolled over onto her back on that ascended ground, staring up at the sky for a moment, quite glad that she was no longer needed to hold onto anything for dear life. Yes, her magic could have saved her if she had slipped--giving the dirt below a bouncy, spongy texture to cushion her impact into insignificance--but the utter sensation of falling was terribly unpleasant.
After some relieved breaths, she rolled over onto her hands and knees and pushed herself up into a kneel. The switchbacking road to her right, going further up, and not much else. The dense forest was far below them.
The closest thing to her to hide behind was a spiny shrub. And so Istra took cover behind it. Waited for Al and Talus to finish their climbs. Took that small moment to let her arms and her legs rest after such an exertion.
Talus Alakir