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dreamcrystals2022-12-23 05:07 pm
songbird_slayer) wrote in dreamcrystals2022-12-23 05:07 pm
Entry tags:
Dream 4: A Girl's Best Friend is her Weapon
Sender: Madhuri Qalli
To: Everyone
Subject: A Passive Dream Recording
Warnings: Violence
It was a bright late summer morning on the Steppe, the sunshine only occasionally obscured in scattered clouds. A soft breeze rustled the grass that spanned for endless miles, the green interrupted by jutting stones and ever-shortened by grazing sheep and dzo.
A group of children sat obediently in the grass, eyes glimmering with excitement as a very tall, craggy-looking man sporting a twisted pair of horns began to lay out bows, spears, short swords and hand axes all made of wood in a row but a handful of yalms before them, explaining the function of each one. The man resembled Madhuri in horns and scales alone, bearing toward a distinct difference between men and women of her kind.
The dreamer would somehow recall this man's name: Arban.
"Now- Today's the big day that all xaela wait for from the moment they are born!" He called, voice deep yet gentle. The children all stood, hardly able to contain themselves. By visual approximation, they couldn't be more than between six and nine summers of age.
"Today, you begin practice with a weapon. Your parents may have shown you what they use while hunting and in battle, but the Dusk Mother is a master of all weapons. She urges you little ones to get to know each and every one of these, until the day you come of age and face Bardam's Mettle to become a Warrior of the Steppe."
He gestured with a hand. "Now, choose one for today, and we will begin a few exercises through each weapon type."
The kids rushed to see and feel each of the tools, voicing excitement. Some had only been allowed to look at things like this from afar, while others picked up weapons with familiarity, their parents having chosen to slip a little early training and familiarity.
Arban watched over them, keeping tabs. But he paused. One, two, three, four, five... he had six children that were in attendance today, hadn't he?
His eyes sharpened as he took a quick scan of the area, but he didn't have to look long: One of the children, a little girl with short purple hair, was found trying to lift Arban's own battle axe. The weapon itself measured about five times the child's size.
The man's gaze softened as he approached. "Madhuri... little shuwuu... what are you doing?"
"Picking a weapon!" The little one answered breathlessly, trying her hardest to lift the thing. Her face was turning red from the exertion, short tail whipping around behind her. Arban knelt beside her, grasped the hilt and raised it a few inches off the ground, if anything to keep the little girl from bursting blood vessels or hurting herself further.
"A good choice. But you need to grow a little bigger first before you can wield such a thing."
"How much bigger!? Boys always get to be big." Madhuri asked, frowning.
"The boys do get to be big, but you are of Nhaama, just like them. She fought Azim just fine without being very big at all." Madhuri scrunched her nose in thought.
"Nhaama isn't big?"
"Nhaama isn't big, shuwuu, but very strong. Give it a few summers, and I promise you'll get to wield weapons like these against things the size of the Dawn Throne."
Madhuri puffed her cheeks at him, eyes suspicious. "...How many summers...?"
Arban laughed quietly. "The more you practice with everyone else, the fewer you'll need. I promise."
The little girl looked longingly at the battle axe, but finally let go. "...Okay. I wanna fight the metal monsters. I wanna do it right away."
"Of course. I'll get you ready for them."
---
[Mild ENDWALKER spoilers to follow, but kept vague.]
"Here they come!"
The sky had darkened and the earth was blanketed in snow and ice. The latter crunching underfoot, a hulking beast man advanced, both hands clutching the hilt of his greatsword. Advancing were a wave of massive walking machines, flanked by black-armored soldiers on foot wielding a manner of blades both gun and non. The beast man- who the dreamer would somehow recognize was named Rurik, raised an arm and the earth around him swelled. It then erupted in a dark force, spearing through a cluster of foot soldiers. Those that did not fall convened on the man with intent to overwhelm him. With the steady clash of blade on blade, the battle had begun.
"Oop- big boy's a little too close. I got him!" Another stepped forward, a lithe mage sporting a pair of tall ears and angular features. Runic rings burning into the rime-covered earth beneath his feet. Arms held high, aether flickered to life and grew, borrowed power from beneath coalescing with this own. The dreamer would somehow recognize the man was named Taiki. The sheer force of power pushed him back a half-step but that didn't seem to matter as an immense burst of primordial flame engulfed a bipedal machine that was too close for comfort. The machine staggered back just in time for Taiki to follow up with another torrent of flame that snaked upright from the earth and fought to render the metal to a molten state. Yet the pilot inside continued to move the controls, head lolling.
They were completely gone. Husks of their former selves.
The piercing roar of an animal sounded over the din of battle before a smaller figure hurtled in from a nearby rooftop, wreathed in an aura of malice. Dressed from head to toe in furs and topped with a bear's head for a hood, someone joined in clutching a hammer nearly three times their size in both hands. When they landed, there was an eruption of some force that sent foot soldiers flying and cleared some space. With a snarl too big for this body, the hammer was aloft again, catching another soldier on its swing and driving them into the body of the other reaper. Human bodies weren't built for being crushed between a hammer head and a wall of steel, much less with continual pressure as the head was forced through the chassis.
The warrior had learned long ago that, with enough determination, you can cleave with a hammer.
Smarter men would run. Clearer-headed men would flee. But these weren't people any more. Their hazy eyes continued to burn as the warrior watched them reload.
"More are coming from the back! Maddie, go say hi!" Rurik shouted, and gestured. The warrior lifted her head, nodded and moved to pass him. The beast man headed off any pursuers to clear the way.
Madhuri advanced and, well, went to go say hi. The frontliners of the fresh wave were greeted by a dragonlady leaping high, shifting her momentum, and coming down like an immense wheel of kinetic, angry energy. The force with which she hit the ground again ignited the gathered aether in an explosive wave, sending many off their feet.
Camp Broken Glass had to hold. As she rose with another animalistic roar that did not match her throat, she hunched from the sheer force of it, challenged those still standing to face her, eyes burning red.
As the Beast set in, the mission seemed to leave her mind. Today, she would give herself the gift of blown steam.
To: Everyone
Subject: A Passive Dream Recording
Warnings: Violence
It was a bright late summer morning on the Steppe, the sunshine only occasionally obscured in scattered clouds. A soft breeze rustled the grass that spanned for endless miles, the green interrupted by jutting stones and ever-shortened by grazing sheep and dzo.
A group of children sat obediently in the grass, eyes glimmering with excitement as a very tall, craggy-looking man sporting a twisted pair of horns began to lay out bows, spears, short swords and hand axes all made of wood in a row but a handful of yalms before them, explaining the function of each one. The man resembled Madhuri in horns and scales alone, bearing toward a distinct difference between men and women of her kind.
The dreamer would somehow recall this man's name: Arban.
"Now- Today's the big day that all xaela wait for from the moment they are born!" He called, voice deep yet gentle. The children all stood, hardly able to contain themselves. By visual approximation, they couldn't be more than between six and nine summers of age.
"Today, you begin practice with a weapon. Your parents may have shown you what they use while hunting and in battle, but the Dusk Mother is a master of all weapons. She urges you little ones to get to know each and every one of these, until the day you come of age and face Bardam's Mettle to become a Warrior of the Steppe."
He gestured with a hand. "Now, choose one for today, and we will begin a few exercises through each weapon type."
The kids rushed to see and feel each of the tools, voicing excitement. Some had only been allowed to look at things like this from afar, while others picked up weapons with familiarity, their parents having chosen to slip a little early training and familiarity.
Arban watched over them, keeping tabs. But he paused. One, two, three, four, five... he had six children that were in attendance today, hadn't he?
His eyes sharpened as he took a quick scan of the area, but he didn't have to look long: One of the children, a little girl with short purple hair, was found trying to lift Arban's own battle axe. The weapon itself measured about five times the child's size.
The man's gaze softened as he approached. "Madhuri... little shuwuu... what are you doing?"
"Picking a weapon!" The little one answered breathlessly, trying her hardest to lift the thing. Her face was turning red from the exertion, short tail whipping around behind her. Arban knelt beside her, grasped the hilt and raised it a few inches off the ground, if anything to keep the little girl from bursting blood vessels or hurting herself further.
"A good choice. But you need to grow a little bigger first before you can wield such a thing."
"How much bigger!? Boys always get to be big." Madhuri asked, frowning.
"The boys do get to be big, but you are of Nhaama, just like them. She fought Azim just fine without being very big at all." Madhuri scrunched her nose in thought.
"Nhaama isn't big?"
"Nhaama isn't big, shuwuu, but very strong. Give it a few summers, and I promise you'll get to wield weapons like these against things the size of the Dawn Throne."
Madhuri puffed her cheeks at him, eyes suspicious. "...How many summers...?"
Arban laughed quietly. "The more you practice with everyone else, the fewer you'll need. I promise."
The little girl looked longingly at the battle axe, but finally let go. "...Okay. I wanna fight the metal monsters. I wanna do it right away."
"Of course. I'll get you ready for them."
---
[Mild ENDWALKER spoilers to follow, but kept vague.]
"Here they come!"
The sky had darkened and the earth was blanketed in snow and ice. The latter crunching underfoot, a hulking beast man advanced, both hands clutching the hilt of his greatsword. Advancing were a wave of massive walking machines, flanked by black-armored soldiers on foot wielding a manner of blades both gun and non. The beast man- who the dreamer would somehow recognize was named Rurik, raised an arm and the earth around him swelled. It then erupted in a dark force, spearing through a cluster of foot soldiers. Those that did not fall convened on the man with intent to overwhelm him. With the steady clash of blade on blade, the battle had begun.
"Oop- big boy's a little too close. I got him!" Another stepped forward, a lithe mage sporting a pair of tall ears and angular features. Runic rings burning into the rime-covered earth beneath his feet. Arms held high, aether flickered to life and grew, borrowed power from beneath coalescing with this own. The dreamer would somehow recognize the man was named Taiki. The sheer force of power pushed him back a half-step but that didn't seem to matter as an immense burst of primordial flame engulfed a bipedal machine that was too close for comfort. The machine staggered back just in time for Taiki to follow up with another torrent of flame that snaked upright from the earth and fought to render the metal to a molten state. Yet the pilot inside continued to move the controls, head lolling.
They were completely gone. Husks of their former selves.
The piercing roar of an animal sounded over the din of battle before a smaller figure hurtled in from a nearby rooftop, wreathed in an aura of malice. Dressed from head to toe in furs and topped with a bear's head for a hood, someone joined in clutching a hammer nearly three times their size in both hands. When they landed, there was an eruption of some force that sent foot soldiers flying and cleared some space. With a snarl too big for this body, the hammer was aloft again, catching another soldier on its swing and driving them into the body of the other reaper. Human bodies weren't built for being crushed between a hammer head and a wall of steel, much less with continual pressure as the head was forced through the chassis.
The warrior had learned long ago that, with enough determination, you can cleave with a hammer.
Smarter men would run. Clearer-headed men would flee. But these weren't people any more. Their hazy eyes continued to burn as the warrior watched them reload.
"More are coming from the back! Maddie, go say hi!" Rurik shouted, and gestured. The warrior lifted her head, nodded and moved to pass him. The beast man headed off any pursuers to clear the way.
Madhuri advanced and, well, went to go say hi. The frontliners of the fresh wave were greeted by a dragonlady leaping high, shifting her momentum, and coming down like an immense wheel of kinetic, angry energy. The force with which she hit the ground again ignited the gathered aether in an explosive wave, sending many off their feet.
Camp Broken Glass had to hold. As she rose with another animalistic roar that did not match her throat, she hunched from the sheer force of it, challenged those still standing to face her, eyes burning red.
As the Beast set in, the mission seemed to leave her mind. Today, she would give herself the gift of blown steam.