STORY: Ashes to Ashes
"Help! Oh please mercy-wercy please somebody help me!"
Wendell was traveling through Sarutabaruta when he heard this urgent, desperate cry. He looked around frantically and saw a badly injured Tarutaru running for his life from a Yagudo, one of the local beastmen. Almost instinctively Wendell focused his thoughts and whispered the incantations to cast his healing magic on the Tarutaru. Wendell's magic healed the Taru completely, pissing off the beasman well enough that came after him now instead of its original target.
Wendell watched as the little Tarutaru ducked into some tall grass in an attempt to hide, now that the Yagudo was no longer threatening his life. The Yagudo ran towards Wendell, chanting ancient words of power as it did so. Wendell prepared to rush it before it could finish the spell. He grabbed the hilt of his war hammer but paused for a moment at the thought that suddenly ran through his mind: "Too weak to be worthwhile." Before he could ponder why he would think something like that, the beastman had finished its Black Magic and stones rose from the ground under Wendell, pummeling him all over his body.
Only bruised from this low power magic, Wendell let go of his war hammer and began chanting different words of power that he knew, words that drew power from a more pure source. Wanting to finish this quickly, he altered these words to increase their effect, and cast his banishing magic on the creature. The power of white magic surged through the creatures body, and it was obviously much more than the creature could take. With a guttural cry it fell to the ground defeated.
Walking over to it, Wendell wondered what it might have felt like to have used a large weapon to defeat this monster. Would he have enjoyed it? As he stared at the rapidly decomposing corpse he could vividly picture the image from his dream, the image of cleaving a monster in two and having its blood spray everywhere. Was he really the kind of person who could do something like that? He did defeat the monster rather quickly on purpose. And where did that thought come from that ran through his mind? These questions ran through his mind as he sat down to rest and recover his spent magical power.
The Taru that had been hiding cautiously peeked out of the bushes. Seeing that it was safe now, he bowed in thanks to Wendell as he ran off to practice more magic on the hapless rarabs overpopulating the area. Wendell waved his farewell. He felt good knowing that he had helped the little Taru out. But a nagging thought tugged at his mind. Would he have felt more satisfied by defeating the Yagudo with his weapon rather than with magic? He pushed this thought and all the others aside as he stood up. The day was young, and there was still much he could do.
Wendell walked off, on the lookout for anyone who looked like they might need assistance. After all, helping those in need was what he did. The beastman corpse he left behind him was nothing more than a fading memory to him. It had already crumbled into ash. As the wind blew it picked up the ash with it, slowly erasing the last evidence of the beastman's existence from the face of Vana'diel.
Wendell was traveling through Sarutabaruta when he heard this urgent, desperate cry. He looked around frantically and saw a badly injured Tarutaru running for his life from a Yagudo, one of the local beastmen. Almost instinctively Wendell focused his thoughts and whispered the incantations to cast his healing magic on the Tarutaru. Wendell's magic healed the Taru completely, pissing off the beasman well enough that came after him now instead of its original target.
Wendell watched as the little Tarutaru ducked into some tall grass in an attempt to hide, now that the Yagudo was no longer threatening his life. The Yagudo ran towards Wendell, chanting ancient words of power as it did so. Wendell prepared to rush it before it could finish the spell. He grabbed the hilt of his war hammer but paused for a moment at the thought that suddenly ran through his mind: "Too weak to be worthwhile." Before he could ponder why he would think something like that, the beastman had finished its Black Magic and stones rose from the ground under Wendell, pummeling him all over his body.
Only bruised from this low power magic, Wendell let go of his war hammer and began chanting different words of power that he knew, words that drew power from a more pure source. Wanting to finish this quickly, he altered these words to increase their effect, and cast his banishing magic on the creature. The power of white magic surged through the creatures body, and it was obviously much more than the creature could take. With a guttural cry it fell to the ground defeated.
Walking over to it, Wendell wondered what it might have felt like to have used a large weapon to defeat this monster. Would he have enjoyed it? As he stared at the rapidly decomposing corpse he could vividly picture the image from his dream, the image of cleaving a monster in two and having its blood spray everywhere. Was he really the kind of person who could do something like that? He did defeat the monster rather quickly on purpose. And where did that thought come from that ran through his mind? These questions ran through his mind as he sat down to rest and recover his spent magical power.
The Taru that had been hiding cautiously peeked out of the bushes. Seeing that it was safe now, he bowed in thanks to Wendell as he ran off to practice more magic on the hapless rarabs overpopulating the area. Wendell waved his farewell. He felt good knowing that he had helped the little Taru out. But a nagging thought tugged at his mind. Would he have felt more satisfied by defeating the Yagudo with his weapon rather than with magic? He pushed this thought and all the others aside as he stood up. The day was young, and there was still much he could do.
Wendell walked off, on the lookout for anyone who looked like they might need assistance. After all, helping those in need was what he did. The beastman corpse he left behind him was nothing more than a fading memory to him. It had already crumbled into ash. As the wind blew it picked up the ash with it, slowly erasing the last evidence of the beastman's existence from the face of Vana'diel.
posted by Unknown at 14:23
1 Comments:
best regards, nice info
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