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[inserviceto]

Hero's Proof

Hero Mastery WC: 1,469

If you had asked him what a hero looked like as a boy, Harken would have been able to spout off several names and details in quick succession. Knights that he grew up hearing tales of, had even seen with his own eyes on the special occasions that brought many to castle Tuscana.

They were brave and true, strong and tall, indomitable in his memory. 

He had been told he was to follow that same path, and he had been excited to do so. His brothers were knights, his father was a knight. It ran in their blood. He dreamed of swearing his oath to the Marquess and serving honorably like the rest of his family.

It had been his only goal in life. 

Harken can’t say if he ever considered himself a hero while serving in Tuscana. Perhaps the closest he came was after first swearing his sword to the old Marquess. Things were peaceful under his rule, and the most they had to deal with were skirmishes with brigands. Harken had been proud to follow in his father’s footsteps, to serve unfalteringly to a lord that cared so much about his people.

But the Marquess had not been long for this world by the time Harken had been knighted, and not very long after his own father’s passing, the Marquess was claimed by old age and illness. In his stead, his son rose to take the reins of Tuscana.

Things were never quite the same after that.

The young Marquess enjoyed what power he had, and if he could flaunt it or lord it over those who had not, he would do so. Taxes steadily increased and wore down the common folk, money used for frivolous things like tourneys and lavish banquets. The knights were no longer protectors of the realm, but enforcers of the Marquess’ will. If you refused or could not pay, the knights would come calling and leave only after the debt had been satisfied – ransacking homes or bringing struggling people into the stockades.

The knights themselves were kept in line by severe punishments should they speak out, and intense competition within their own ranks for rewards from the Marquess. Where once they had been comrades, now they were rivals. 

Even his own brothers were not immune to the pressures of it all.

They all did terrible things to survive. Many people turned to savagery just to feed themselves and their families, and inevitably, the knights were deployed to beat the people down for it.

Innocent blood on his hands, all because he bent the knee and said some words that were hardly being honored anymore. A true hero would stand and disown such behavior, fight to right the wrongs that were being made against people who had done nothing to deserve such treatment. But Harken bowed his head, and followed orders, and dirtied his hands and soul for the lord he was sworn to.

It didn’t last long. It couldn't have lasted long, with how everything was falling apart.

The Marquess was fond of inviting his peers to the castle, throwing raucous events and allowing quite a number of visiting lords to get away with almost anything they pleased while within Tuscana’s borders. 

But there were some who looked upon the debauchery and wrongs with a critical eye, and they wouldn’t stand by while people of Lycia – even ones outside their territories – suffered.

The first time he’d spoken with Marquess Pherae, Harken had been so thoroughly worn down by everything that he’d not really realized the gravity of the situation. Lord Elbert had promised his aid, in whatever way was necessary, and Harken had been dulled to such a degree that understanding had not sunk in until his own lord had called him to attendance and proceeded to humiliate him in front of the court. He’d been stripped of rank and title, dishonored and thrown out. And through the shellshock of it all – the sneering and the shameful looks from even his own brothers, doing nothing for him that might draw the ire of their lord – Harken was laid bare to everything he had done.

There were no heroes here, and he was no exception.

Tuscana’s fall and rebirth were quick. Lord Elbert of Pherae had kept his word, and rallied several other territories to remove the current Marquess from power. He would not be disposed of peacefully. Battle sprung forth like fire on a dry plain, and while the knights of Tuscana stood by their lord – not out of love or loyalty, but by strongarm – they could not fight off attacks on several fronts.

They would put up enough effort to drag the conflict out for a time, but none of them wished to die for the lord that had mistreated them so.

For his part, Harken had been approached by Marquess Pherae again. He had been Marquess Tuscana’s preferred knight – always there to please, always there to torment, never speaking out or acting up. He knew all the knights that sat opposed to them, knew their skills and the strategies likely to be deployed. He was of use, and he could finally do what he should have done so long ago: help the people that had looked up to him as a knight.

Lord Elbert had been kind to him in the little time they had engaged with one another, and even through the weight of despair and guilt, the light of the other man’s words got through to Harken. It would never make up for the things he had done, but he could put a stop to the suffering so that recovery could begin.

They fought their way through the ranks of Tuscana’s knights, Harken joining Sir Marcus in flanking Marquess Pherae. They were trying to end this as quickly and with as little bloodshed as possible, Lord Elbert hoping to talk sense into Marquess Tuscana now that things had escalated.

But Marquess Tuscana would not hear any of it. He struck out at Marquess Pherae as he offered out a hand of peace, and as Sir Marcus rushed to his defense, Harken felt a blanket of calm drape over him. He stepped forward to cover the other two, sword and shield at the ready and his former lord’s screaming face set firm in his gaze.

He remembers nothing of what came next.

A now familiar and precious voice swims in his ears, and Harken comes back to himself as if from a dream. His shield has been discarded, his sword…Sir Marcus has pried it out of his white-knuckle grasp. He blinks, and lets out a shuddering breath; sees the mess of blood on the ground, on his hands, on him–

There is a hand at his face, warm and careful, barring him from looking further. His vision is taken up by blue eyes and fiery hair.

“Are you alright, Sir Harken? Please, come away…The fighting is done.” 

Lord Elbert’s words sink in slowly, and he can dully hear himself asking “What…?” as he is led away. 

He does not remember what happened. Not when he is being cleaned up and checked over for wounds – there are none, the blood, as much of it as there is, is not his. Nor when talks are had, and a new lord is brought up to take the position of Marquess at the Lycian League’s vote. And not yet still, when Lord Elbert takes him back to Pherae and brings him into the fold as one of his knights.

He cannot remember, but the feeling of heroics is not there. Even when people talk of how he had defended Lord Elbert so fiercely, single-handedly engaging the enemy general in combat and slaying him. He did not feel like a hero. He hardly thought he should be here at all, serving such a fine lord as Marquess Pherae. 

He does not feel like a hero, but he comes to regard Lord Elbert as his. And if he can be of any use to the man that took him in, disgraced and bloodied and far from deserving of it, perhaps Harken could earn such rightful praise.

He is here now, bereft of his savior lord and a world away from the place he had come to regard as his home. But…he yet lives, and so too does Elbert’s son. An oath he had sworn again to house Pherae, and he has been neglecting it. He is no hero now, but perhaps, finally returning to face the ones most pained by his failures was a step back on the correct path. 

And he might never be worthy, but…it was time to try again. Sword and shield, heart and soul, devotion was the hero he wished to be.

[inserviceto]

While nothing had really changed in their environment -- the heat was still oppressive, the noises were still overbearing -- Harken felt his chest loosen up and his breathing come a bit easier. He had slipped, but he had been caught, and from there it was habit to fall back into step just behind the young prince. Shame may later creep back in at leaning so much on so young a companion, but as they moved through the jungle once more, eyes set on any tracks they might be able to find in the damp soil, Harken does not let it in.

He perks up at the exclamation from Dimitri, trotting over to the trail of slightly overlapping boot prints that surely must have come from the rest of their comrades.

"Keen eye! Let us make haste, and catch up to them at once. I think we could both use a break from this jungle."

If there was any trouble on account of them falling behind, Harken would be quick to make it clear that it had been no fault of the student's. There would be no further delays because of him.

Rambi II: First Blonde

[inserviceto]

Harken was trying to pull himself together, he really was. He thought he'd been doing better as of late, but feeling himself backslide at the smallest thing was…demoralizing. It felt like being stuck in the tide, so close to land but making no progress.

He is, in his here and yet not state, fully unprepared for the young man to tug him back to his feet. Harken is not a large man, but he is still a man in armor. The action is accomplished with so little effort, and with very little input from the knight himself that, thrust back to his feet, Harken overcorrects himself and almost stumbles into Dimitri trying to get his feet under him.

It looks and feels ridiculous, and his heart is hammering in his chest at the suddenness of it, but some clarity of the situation has been forced back onto him at the surprise of it.

He blinks, let's the sound of the jungle filter back in. Straightens himself out once more. Everything would be alright. Dimitri will indeed make a most excellent leader. "Yes, your highness. Forgive my falter. I will not let it happen again." A firm nod, he was ready.

Rambi II: First Blonde

[inserviceto]

It's all starting to feel suspiciously similar. The sweat trickling down the back of his neck was no longer just on account of the exertion or the wet heat that clung to everything here. That gut-deep drop in gravity that preluded tragedy.

He didn't realize how narrowed his vision and mind had gotten in such a short time until he felt the boy's hand on his arm. Harken stilled at the contact, head still lowered but no longer in order to focus on the trap. It was difficult not to hear an overlapping voice over Dimitri's reassurances, older but no less kind. When he gives in and looks the young man's way, he does his best to ignore the incorrect face he sees there.

"Of course, my lo-- y-your majesty." He inclines his head again, tone resigned instead of focused.

There was a plan, just in case they did fall behind the main group, to leave a trail marker so that they could catch up. But Harken was not…fully anchored to the present enough to keep a good eye out.

"Right, yes-- The path. We just need to find that. They should have left a marker…"

Pick yourself up.

Rambi II: First Blonde

[inserviceto]

Was it diligence if he had trampled upon the creature's tail without the intention to? That he had not seen it clearly? That it had gotten away so easily from him? Dimitri's words were kind, but Harken can't say he was deserving of them.

Pulling in a breath to attempt to collect himself once more, Harken takes a moment to look around as well and…indeed, he could no longer see their party ahead, nor the path they had been on. How could that be? They'd not gone that far off…But it mattered not; they were off task now, and needed to get back on track before more time slipped away from them.

But the young prince's cry pulls Harken to his side as quickly as he can manage, brown eyes staring at the neatly dismantled trap with utter confusion. This one had been taken apart with skill, not cut like the previous one they'd found. "They should not have been able to! We should have heard something, some movement in all of-- this!" he gestures to the dense greenery, kneeling down to inspect the trap and begin to reset it. "I don't like that we've seen nothing as of yet."

Rambi II: First Blonde

[inserviceto]

Harken is in the midst of trying to extract himself from this damnable bush to try and see the creature, or give chase -- something -- but it's gone by the time he does get loose, Dimitri wary and searching by his side. All he'd seen was a tail. If it had been a tail. He was not very knowledgeable about animals beyond horses, so perhaps he'd…he'd not seen what he thought he had.

Shame burns in his cheeks more harshly than the damp heat of the island, and he flicks his gaze to the young Lion before returning it to the trees around them.

"Forgive me my overreaction. I'm…I'm sure you're quite right, it must be the heat getting to me," he fumbled out, "Please, I've distracted us too long for something that was likely just…in my…head."

His words fell a bit flat, realizing only after he'd spoken them how poorly they reflected on him. He was a knight! He shouldn't be seeing or hearing things that weren't there -- let alone when a student and member of royalty was in his care!

Pathetic.

"It was nothing, just…just my own foolishness." Best to press forward, not linger on this event.

Rambi II: First Blonde

[inserviceto]

Time seemed almost irrelevant in the thick jungle. Everything looked the same, and the sounds were a cacophony that invaded the mind as easily as the ears. It made it shockingly easy to get lost in the motions of it all.

"You have a mind that knows it must think of the larger picture, your highness. The details matter to those of your station, as they have long reaching effects on not just yourself but your country and people. I am but a knight, and it is not for me to think of the greater possibility, only to handle the task set before me in the here and now."

Was getting wrapped up in the details a flaw? Was not doing so wrong?

"I suppose they must be used to it. This terrain is far from what I'm familiar with--"

He steps forward, planning to simply force his way through some of the foliage, but his boot comes down on something…that is not earth and whatever it is goes skittering off further into the dense plants with an ungodly noise. He startles at the suddenness of it all, but catches sight of a stout tail. "Did you see it?!"

Rambi II: First Blonde

[inserviceto]

Just from the time they'd spent shoulder to shoulder so far in this task, the prince seemed a good sort. Attentive, chivalrous and with a caring eye towards those around him; he was sure there were a great many things a student of his age could hope to do on an island like this, and yet he'd come ready to aid in one of the more dangerous jobs.

It was a good path to see one destined for kingship to be treading.

Harken mused on the young man's point, gaze never still as it swept across the vibrant jungle around them. "That…would be most disconcerting if so." Because the ambient noise here truly was constant.

He shook his head. "Do not apologize, Prince Dimitri. It just means we'll both need to be that much more vigilant for our comrades' sake. These creatures are stealthy and clever, but they are still only animals." In his mind, that meant that it was only a matter of time before they caught them. No matter that this was their home, and they were intruding.

With the others in sight still, Harken followed Dimitri's lead and moved on from the reset trap.

Rambi II: First Blonde

[inserviceto]

There had been many teams Leanne wished to keep an eye on through the screens showing the contents of the illusory arenas to those on the outside, but one beorc in particular stands out among the rest.

Compared to those from her homeland, she hasn't known Sir Harken nearly as long, but the sound of his heart does lend itself to a natural concern, in the heron's opinion. And especially in this case, where she had just now, not even half an hour ago, felt the visceral pain of seeing his hands broken on his ally's armor.

"Sir Harken!" she approaches him soon after he exits the illusions, immediately cupping his hands in her own, warm ones in a gentle gesture, careful to avoid sudden motions in case any wounds persisted. She checks them over — aside from the usual, old callouses she would expect an experienced knight to have, all traces of the new injuries seem to be gone. "You're... not hurt? I am glad...!" she says, satisfied.

Taking her eyes off his hands, she meets his gaze with a gentle smile. "You fight... very hard. Time for — for dinner, and rest, yes?" She begins to tug him towards the dining hall, her lack of physical power compensated for by sheer persistence in case he thinks of refusing. It's important for even the strongest of beorc to take good care of themselves!!

While things had been a bit rough for the most part, and even ending on a good note had come with some unfortunate hiccups, Harken could at least say he was more satisfied with this round of training in the arena than the previous time. It hadn't gone smoothly, but every round, they'd gotten closer as a unit and improved.

Still, it had pointed out plenty of his flaws, things he needed to work on.

But, for the moment, he could leave those thoughts for tomorrow. His body was whole once more, but he still felt the growing fatigue of having fought in three consecutive battles. He planned to simply check up on his teammates briefly and then trudge to his quarters for some rest.

"Sir Harken!"

His head snaps up, instantly at attention at the call of his name, surprise clear on his face as Leanne approaches him; her hands, delicate and warm, curling gently around his own. It stymies him for a moment, caught off guard by the open care in her touch, her eyes, her voice as she speaks to him.

"Ah, no, I-- I am quite fine, Lady Leanne, I promise," Harken fumbles out after a while, flexing his fingers in just as much a show to her as it was to himself. Though it had been painful, it had been brief -- and it was hardly the most severe injury he'd ever been dealt, self-inflicted or not. "I hadn't realized you would be watching..."

He's not sure if he should preen at the thought, or feel a bit more shame at his inconsistent showing.

He wants to say that he could do better, that what she saw was not his best, but her gentle expression makes him swallow such foolish words.

Tomorrow. That was for tomorrow. For now, he is quite content to let her lead him along to wherever she wished, exhaustion clinging to his bones and making him pliant as a barely weaned pup.

"Rest...Yes, that sounds rather tempting right now, Lady Leanne. Thank you..."

[inserviceto]

Tromping around in the tropical jungle in full armor was…a mistake.

Harken had very little experience with environments like this, and since they were to be dealing with monsters of some variety, he'd thought it would be a good idea to be fully prepared. While he stood by that, especially since he was working with a student to back up a larger group working ahead of them, he also felt like he was pouring buckets of sweat the longer the day wore on…

At the young Lion's call, Harken shakes himself out of the sluggish thoughts that came from such close heat, carefully shuffling through the lush undergrowth to get to Dimitri's side. A skillfully tripped trap, no quarry in sight.

"How far ahead are the others? Surely these creatures could not be so stealthy as to avoid both those on point as well as ourselves…"

It simply seemed too intelligent for such beasts.

"Unless…there is someone working against our cause here. But to give aid to monsters over fellow humans…I find it difficult to think anyone would, yet…have you ever faced such smart creatures before?"

Rambi II: First Blonde

[inserviceto]

“and here i thought i told you i wanted to see you in another position of defeat,” niles says, sighing as he tracks down the knight after their last battle. it had been too good a performance, they’d all dispatched their enemies too quickly. too efficiently. there was no game in it.

“well, watching you fumble was still fun, but you never fell, did you? is that tenacity, or just a lack of opportunity?” he’s grinning, but passively; this has to be the game, since there wasn’t enough of one in the arena proper. “perhaps we should spar, sir knight. so i can have a chance at what you so rudely denied me.”

Harken jumps a bit at the voice, but doesn't react as poorly as he was expecting to. He partly expected the other man to come back and tease more, but he also figured it may not have been worth his time now that they were free of the training and able to go back to their usual routines.

"I am...," Harken stalls for a moment, waffling on the correct thing to say, "...sorry to disappoint you?"

They had struggled as a team at first, but their last showing had gone quite smoothly. Which he thought was the point -- to improve -- but maybe some had been in it for the entertainment it could provide.

He ducks his head a bit at the mention of his...heat of the moment confusion, a noise caught between mildly disgruntled and embarrassed leaving him. "Well, I'm glad you...got some enjoyment out of that. I did not." Harken resists the urge to flex his fingers, make sure they do indeed work once more. "It would be my honor to spar with you, sir. If you apply yourself as I saw you in the arena, I'm sure I will be able to learn a great deal. And...I've no doubt you will be able to see more falls in the process, if it so pleases you..."

Hands on, even, but Harken wasn't about to voice that particular train of thought.

[inserviceto]

June Activity Check

Status: Passed

Total Skill Points: 18 → 21 Monthly Activity SP Earned: 1 Event Activity SP Earned: 1 Other SP Earned: +1 Sword from dropped Thread Completion SP Earned: --

Invested SP: +1 Sword to Sword C+ → Sword B (1/2) +1 to Sword C+ → Sword B (2/2) +1 to Axe C+ → Axe B (2/2)

Accessed Classes: Hero

Mastered Classes: --

[inserviceto]

While some of Harken's stubborn refusal to get out of the way was due to the fact that his hearing had not yet fully returned to him, it was also on account of him wanting to right a wrong and try to be of some use. So, pointedly ignoring or completely oblivious to the fact that their foes would be focusing on the man with the tank currently forcing their attention on him, Harken stays just outside of Ares' reach as the other man tries to shoo him away in order to heal up the light damage the other has sustained.

Bond activates! Harken 8/10HP recovers +1HP. Harken 9/10HP. Diffuse Heal activates: Ares 8/10 HP recovers +0.5HP, Ares 8.5/10HP Amaterasu activates! Harken 9/10HP recovers +1HP. Harken 10/10HP. Diffuse Heal activates: Ares 8.5/10 HP recovers +0.5HP, Ares 9/10HP White Magic Heal+ activates! Harken 10/10HP heals Ares 9/10HP for +4HP with Physic [Roll: 16 + 4 = 20, Ares 10/10HP]

He was able to lay his hands on Ares armor long enough to mend any injuries that were hidden beneath, but because he had stopped to do so, it made what came next far easier for the irritated student to accomplish.

That being, using his shield and raw strength to shove Harken quite a great deal away just as the shadow of the horseman erupted from the dust billowing to the ground.

Harken yelped in surprise -- and not a small amount of discomfort, Saints above that boy had some power behind him -- as he went flying into the dirt.

without the blazing, it's just bullshit - team 11

summer arena 2024, gold round

[inserviceto]

Though his hands are definitely severely damaged from his foolish attack just a moment ago, Harken knows he can't stand around and wait for others to help. He'd made himself a burden, but he wasn't about to place that weight on his teammates if he could help it.

Scanning the field for a moment, breaths hissing between his gritted teeth, he's glad to see that he is the only one of his team that is this injured. Only Shez and Ares have any wounds, and they are relatively minor -- which means he should be able to heal them easily so that they don't have to worry about taking their eyes off their foes.

"Please, allow me to heal you...," Harken asks -- not quite a beg, but still rather pathetic considering his current state. Where before he had laid his hands on those he was about to heal, something compelled him to try and focus it on himself and then outward.

He'd never attempted this before, so he had no idea if it would actually work as he was hoping, but it was worth trying for the effort that his teammates were putting into this fight.

Bond activates! Harken 2/10HP recovers +1HP. Harken 3/10HP. Diffuse Heal activates: Shez 9.5/10HP recovers +0.5HP, Shez 10/10HP Ares 8/10 HP recovers +0.5HP, Ares 8.5/10HP Amaterasu activates! Harken 3/10HP recovers +1HP. Harken 4/10HP. Diffuse Heal activates: Ares 8.5/10 HP recovers +0.5HP, Ares 9/10HP Self-Healing activates! White Magic Heal+ activates! Harken 4/10HP heals himself for +4HP with Physic [Roll: 5 + 4 = 9, Harken 8/10HP] Diffuse Heal activates: Ares 9/10 HP recovers +2HP, Ares 10/10HP

It felt like a soothing cold at first, Harken's breath puffing out of his mouth in small clouds despite the environment remaining the same; easing the immediate pain in his own body. Then, the cold sensation melted away into comforting heat that spread outward from himself to those of his allies that had any sort of wound.

Harken carefully flexed his fingers, and while his hands were still sore and aching a bit, he could move them once again without crumpling from the pain of broken bones.

without the blazing, it's just bullshit - team 11

summer arena 2024, gold round

[inserviceto]

Harken was unused to the unique additions a cannon brought to the battlefield; not just the noise and the damage it was capable of, but the dust and smoke it kicked up as well. Since he was one of their only close combat fighters excluding Shez this time around, being close to the enemy when cannon fire blasted into their shrinking line was...jarring, to say the least.

Earth exploded, dirt and dust raining down on this side of the field; the smokescreen made everything confusing, and the blast had all noise narrow down to a painful point in Harken's ears as he scrambled to get out of the way as best he could.

He shook his head, coughed -- a noise that was felt in his chest and throat more than heard due to the ringing in his ears -- tried to clear his vision and airways of dust and smoke.

It was difficult to breathe, and with his vision impaired and the smoke lingering, every movement that he caught sight of felt threatening -- he couldn't tell if it was friend or foe, and with his hearing shot, any calls from allies were equally futile.

It felt like his world had narrowed down to this muffled, difficult to make out tunnel and he didn't like it. It spiked anxiety in his chest like a stab to the heart, and the frayed string of composure he was trying to hold tight was the fact that if there were screams -- man or beast -- they were only in his head and not actually around him.

He did his best to stagger back the way he had come, where he assumed his allies were, but a shadow looming in the settling debris provoked a reaction when he stumbled into it.

Selkiesheen does not activate! [Roll: 2] Harken 10/10HP hits Ares 10/10HP with Hrungnir [Roll: 4 + 8 (+4dex/-4avo) = 12, -1.5HP + 4.5def = -0HP] Sesshoseki activates! -2HP to Harken 10/10HP, Harken 8/10HP. Harken 8/10HP hits Ares 10/10HP with Hrungnir [Roll: 1 + 8 (+4dex/-4avo) = 9, -1.5HP + 4.5def = -0HP] Sesshoseki activates! -2HP to Harken 8/10HP, Harken 6/10HP. Ares 10/10HP is unable to counterattack! Harken 6/10HP hits Ares 10/10HP with Hrungnir [Roll: 3 + 8 (+4dex/-4avo) = 11, -1.5HP + 4.5def = -0HP] Sesshoseki activates! -2HP to Harken 6/10HP, Harken 4/10HP Harken 4/10HP crits Ares 10/10HP with Hrungnir [Roll: 17 + 8 (+4dex/-4avo) = 25, -3HP + 4.5def = -0HP] Sesshoseki activates! -2HP to Harken 4/10HP, Harken 2/10HP

Protected as his fists were by the gauntlets, it didn't seem to matter much as they connected with something solid and unmoving. Not the armored horse of their foe, so surely not any of the others they were faced off against, as they had no armor like this...

He doubled over in pain; not hearing the breaks but surely feeling them, his wounded and shocked cry likewise muffled to his ears. He stays there for a moment, arms shaking as he tests moving his hands, fingers -- whining slightly at the agony he'd inflicted on himself -- before straightening out as much as he could to confirm that it was indeed his own ally he'd attacked.

"I--" Harken chokes out, throat dry and constricted with pain, swallowing it down to make eye contact with the other man, "Forgive me, my lord, I-- I did not realize it was you. Are you unhurt?"

His own words sounded strange, more heard in his head than by his ears, unable to tell that he was shouting them.

without the blazing, it's just bullshit - team 11

summer arena 2024, gold round

[inserviceto]

Another bout of fighting remained for them to face, and this time, it was an even playing field; five against five, all of them outfitted for a final fight and holding nothing back. There was no terrible terrain to contend with, no magically borne minions, just their team against another--

But something wasn't quite right.

They seemed like people he had possibly seen out and about at the monastery, none that he knew personally but knew to be actual people. Yet they seemed...wrong, uncanny -- like the faces of someone in a dream that you're supposed to know, but cannot recall the details of. It was unnerving, but with the first strikes being dealt by their side, Harken feels like there's a wave of confidence or determination spurring on his comrades that had been wavering with the previous rounds.

With one foe already down and their enemies zeroing in on the bombastic sound of Ares' cannon, Harken takes the chance given to him to target the bowman still standing.

Selkiesheen does not activate [Roll: 2] Harken 10/10HP hits Lycian Wildcat 10/10HP with Hrungnir [Roll: 13 + 4 = 17, -1.5HP; Lycian Wildcat 8.5/10HP] Harken 10/10HP crits Lycian Wildcat 8.5/10HP with Hrungnir [Roll: 20 + 4 = 24, -3HP; Lycian Wildcat 5.5/10HP] Lycian Wildcat is unable to counterattack! Follow up! Harken 10/10HP hits Lycian Wildcat 5.5/10HP with Hrungnir [Roll: 7 + 4 =11, -1.5HP; Lycian Wildcat 4/10HP] Harken 10/10HP hits Lycian Wildcat 4/10HP with Hrungnir [Roll: 8 + 4 = 12, -1.5HP; Lycian Wildcat 2.5/10HP] Defiant Speed activates! Lycian Wildcat is granted +8 Spd

He's far from a brawler. Fist fighting was, while not an unknown skill to him, not one he spent much time on beyond the basics of throwing a punch correctly and learning to block. He doesn't know the best places to target -- especially with the archer on a horse -- but Harken knows that his best bet to do damage without having to worry about retaliation by arrow point is to simply pull the young student out of the saddle.

With the strangely blurry-faced archer's attention on their cannoneer, it's surprisingly easy to rush up and do just that; following up with several blows from the rock-solid gauntlets he'd been given to fight with. Most of his blows aren't very severe, but one bashes into the bowman's nose with a jarring crunch.

It felt wrong to beat down on a student like this, but...

"Yes, stay steady! I know our past fights haven't gone well or to plan, but our success here so far is showing that we are improving!"

without the blazing, it's just bullshit - team 11

summer arena 2024, gold round

[inserviceto]

between rounds they seem to get a moment to catch their breaths. while some would likely prefer to use them to wind down, or perhaps to strategize, niles uses his more—playfully.

the knight is the teammate of his that he has the most interest in. curiosity stirs in him as he approaches sir... whatever his name is. if he heard it, he doesn't recall. but knights are often easy targets, with their weak spots on display, covered only by plate armor.

"you fought well," he says, visibly looking him up and down, like he was sizing him up for the first time, as if he hadn't done that the moment he stepped into the arena. "a shame i only got to see you fall the once; you looked nice, in a position of defeat. try not to outlast me a second time, even if i must admit your stamina is impressive."

The last fight ended on a bad note, though their team managed to avoid another total wipeout. No, with his healing failing his only remaining comrade -- and then that comrade getting brutally beat down in front of him, while Harken himself remained standing -- surviving the round that way was not ideal.

It wasn't real. They would be fine again in a moment.

It wasn't real. It wasn't real. It wasn't real--

His eyes snap open -- when had he closed them? -- and his breathing comes in a fit of gasps before steadying out. They are no longer in that artist's workshop, his allies are no longer defeated and pulled off a dangerous battlefield. They're in a quiet, muted sort of room; what furnishings are here appear soft, and the entire atmosphere seems to try and mirror that softness.

Harken's posture slumps for a moment as he sways, trying to collect himself again before the next fight begins. He can't lose it like he did the last time...But, whether it was a blessing or a curse for his scrambled thoughts, one of his teammates was approaching him -- the man with the eyepatch, the only other non-student fighter on their team.

"I...could have done better," Harken murmured, pulling himself back up into a more presentable position despite the guilt and regret chewing acidic holes of nausea in his throat and gut. "You've done quite well yourself, I wanted to thank you fo--"

Words seem to fail him before he can even finish, a strangled sort of noise leaving his mouth instead as his face bursts out into a bewildered, brilliant shade of red. The knight hems and haws for a prolonged moment, tripping over words and then trying to clarify only to stutter and stammer himself into another verbal mess.

Well, this was certainly a good distraction from his spiraling thoughts, but not how he expected it to be achieved...

Harken tries to rally this back to the more serious conversation of the training they're partaking in, he really does try -- it may not look or sound like it, what with the blithering he's doing -- but he simply can't stop those words from bouncing around in his head.

"You looked nice, in a position of defeat." "Try not to outlast me a second time, even if I must admit your stamina is impressive."

He ends up with his face in his hands, flushed skin hot against his gloves as he mumbles out something that may have been a shaky confirmation or a plea to be decent with the students within earshot. It was difficult to tell between his hands muffling his words and his accent twisting a bit thicker in his embarrassment.