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► Show Spoiler
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It didn’t bother the Veir that his companion didn’t have much to say in regards to his rambling about Daravinic nobility– he just found it somewhat cathartic to talk about and it was nice to have somebody he could speak freely with that was willing to listen to him at all. It was often hard to find somebody with an ear to listen that didn’t have ulterior motives in regards to how the information would be used. There was a warmth to the other’s expression that indicated he was, at least, fine with lending the Ferrier his ear.
At the question in regards to Sil’Norai, “Yes, we also have some innate resistance to mageblight of our own. Can push past limits that would break others by virtue of our blood alone…as far as I am aware, I am full blooded– though I can’t say with complete certainty.” Degare speaks with an air of wonder in his voice, though it would be clear enough from his tone that his lived experience would indicate what he said was true. With coy laughter, he offers another comment, “You forget? Really? Is it not the taste of my multiple marks that entices you so?” His words are playful and he’s wearing a bit of an impish expression.
The look on his face stays bright, though there is some small glimmer of concern reflected underneath red-amber irises when the Dranoch mentions his endless hunger. Such a thing really did come across as suffering to the Ferrier; it pulled at a more visceral form of his empathy. He really could imagine the gnaw of hunger maintaining a ravenous, iron grip and he honestly wouldn’t wish such a thing on any creature. He does try to veil this reaction, though, not wanting to give the other man unwanted pity.
In regards to the comment about Bane mages and illness, the first few notes of a laugh are pulled free from his chest and he speaks, “Ah…Bane mages can get sick it’s just…rather unlikely, and if we do, we can use a skill called Allay to get rid of it almost immediately. If it’s something particularly sticky that Allay for…whatever reason…doesn’t seem to get rid of entirely, there’s another ability called Pallor that can stop the spread and allow one’s immune system to fix the issue. That one will continuously cost ether, though…Either way, those two abilities give the appearance that Bane mages never fall ill, because as soon as we notice, the illness is gone. Hence why it’s a bit of a problem that I, ah…don’t notice.” His love of Bane shines through in the bright, enthused warmth with which he speaks about it. Degare has a tendency to ramble about magic of any kind, but it takes conscious self control to shut himself up about Bane because his fondness for it runs deeper than all the rest.
Now to address the little Rathor’s comment about his heightened perception, “In…every way. I’m sure you’ve noticed how sensitive I am when you touch me…? It’s so…difficult to restrain myself now.” For this one, the Ferrier was intentionally vague with his answer. Arkash would have to figure out more of his specific tastes on his own since even simple things made his head spin at this point…there was no need to give away those secrets.
Degare had not quite internalized the fact that blight was, essentially, an alternate source of ether that could be used in its place when casting Blood Magic. When it did finally click as Arkash corrected him, he nodded in understanding, not even annoyed at his mistake. This revelation brightened his expression as he realized the ease with which he would be able to use his Blood Magic in tandem with his more standard marks. “Oh…? How fascinating…weaving the magic of this mark with others will be great fun to try when I get a better grasp of the fundamentals, then,” he verbalizes his thoughts to his companion with an expression alight with excitement. After he says this, Arkash offers to demonstrate what casting use blight looks like. It made a lot more sense to see the blight as something visually distinct from the blood being shaped.
With this concept in mind, he uses the Blight floating within his palm to pull at the orb in his other hand, causing its smooth edges to shift and begin to change shape at his first proper cast of Bloodshape. The blight swirled around and slowly began to drain as the orb spun itself around and began to form an undulating blob in between the two Vandikar when Degare moved his hand closer. Slowly, it began to take the shape of a pyramid with smooth, shining edges and pointed corners as the last of the blight dissipated. However, it would be clear that the manipulated blood was still solid; he was as yet unable to change anything beyond the shape of matter– its form was still beyond his grasp. “You’re right…that was far easier,” he says with an almost embarrassed laugh.
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It didn’t bother the Veir that his companion didn’t have much to say in regards to his rambling about Daravinic nobility– he just found it somewhat cathartic to talk about and it was nice to have somebody he could speak freely with that was willing to listen to him at all. It was often hard to find somebody with an ear to listen that didn’t have ulterior motives in regards to how the information would be used. There was a warmth to the other’s expression that indicated he was, at least, fine with lending the Ferrier his ear.
At the question in regards to Sil’Norai, “Yes, we also have some innate resistance to mageblight of our own. Can push past limits that would break others by virtue of our blood alone…as far as I am aware, I am full blooded– though I can’t say with complete certainty.” Degare speaks with an air of wonder in his voice, though it would be clear enough from his tone that his lived experience would indicate what he said was true. With coy laughter, he offers another comment, “You forget? Really? Is it not the taste of my multiple marks that entices you so?” His words are playful and he’s wearing a bit of an impish expression.
The look on his face stays bright, though there is some small glimmer of concern reflected underneath red-amber irises when the Dranoch mentions his endless hunger. Such a thing really did come across as suffering to the Ferrier; it pulled at a more visceral form of his empathy. He really could imagine the gnaw of hunger maintaining a ravenous, iron grip and he honestly wouldn’t wish such a thing on any creature. He does try to veil this reaction, though, not wanting to give the other man unwanted pity.
In regards to the comment about Bane mages and illness, the first few notes of a laugh are pulled free from his chest and he speaks, “Ah…Bane mages can get sick it’s just…rather unlikely, and if we do, we can use a skill called Allay to get rid of it almost immediately. If it’s something particularly sticky that Allay for…whatever reason…doesn’t seem to get rid of entirely, there’s another ability called Pallor that can stop the spread and allow one’s immune system to fix the issue. That one will continuously cost ether, though…Either way, those two abilities give the appearance that Bane mages never fall ill, because as soon as we notice, the illness is gone. Hence why it’s a bit of a problem that I, ah…don’t notice.” His love of Bane shines through in the bright, enthused warmth with which he speaks about it. Degare has a tendency to ramble about magic of any kind, but it takes conscious self control to shut himself up about Bane because his fondness for it runs deeper than all the rest.
Now to address the little Rathor’s comment about his heightened perception, “In…every way. I’m sure you’ve noticed how sensitive I am when you touch me…? It’s so…difficult to restrain myself now.” For this one, the Ferrier was intentionally vague with his answer. Arkash would have to figure out more of his specific tastes on his own since even simple things made his head spin at this point…there was no need to give away those secrets.
Degare had not quite internalized the fact that blight was, essentially, an alternate source of ether that could be used in its place when casting Blood Magic. When it did finally click as Arkash corrected him, he nodded in understanding, not even annoyed at his mistake. This revelation brightened his expression as he realized the ease with which he would be able to use his Blood Magic in tandem with his more standard marks. “Oh…? How fascinating…weaving the magic of this mark with others will be great fun to try when I get a better grasp of the fundamentals, then,” he verbalizes his thoughts to his companion with an expression alight with excitement. After he says this, Arkash offers to demonstrate what casting use blight looks like. It made a lot more sense to see the blight as something visually distinct from the blood being shaped.
With this concept in mind, he uses the Blight floating within his palm to pull at the orb in his other hand, causing its smooth edges to shift and begin to change shape at his first proper cast of Bloodshape. The blight swirled around and slowly began to drain as the orb spun itself around and began to form an undulating blob in between the two Vandikar when Degare moved his hand closer. Slowly, it began to take the shape of a pyramid with smooth, shining edges and pointed corners as the last of the blight dissipated. However, it would be clear that the manipulated blood was still solid; he was as yet unable to change anything beyond the shape of matter– its form was still beyond his grasp. “You’re right…that was far easier,” he says with an almost embarrassed laugh.
____
'Thoughts'
"Common Tongue/Speech"
"Raillen Tongue/Speech"
"Silvain Tongue/Speech"
'Thoughts'
"Common Tongue/Speech"
"Raillen Tongue/Speech"
"Silvain Tongue/Speech"
