Post by thaen on Feb 8, 2013 17:51:06 GMT -5
Gadrick Borev was no longer a man of Avacyn. True, he had once been one of the cathars, the brave men who guard innocent villagers from nightly horrors. And he didn't exactly hate the job. Well, maybe he did, but he knew deep inside that he would hate being a farmer even more. But when you have a countless amount of worlds at your fingertips, the importance of protecting the people of one, seems very little in comparison. So little that he had in fact chosen to abandon his title, his honour, his uniform. Oh yes, he was supposed to leave his uniform behind when he left the cathars. Well, he hadn't. It fit him, and he had no idea whether the blacksmiths and tailors of other planes were any good. Would be a shame if they made him an armour that was too small. Same with his hammer, he kept that too, seeing as it was hard to get a perfectly balanced hammer these days. That might be why the cathars are currently trying to knock down my door, Gadrick thought. It's a shame though. The woodcarver spent hours on decorating that door.
Nonchalantly strolling up the stairs, Gadrick prepared himself to leave his old house. In order to be fully reborn, he had to let his past self die, and bringing the house down with him would make an excellent dramatic exit. He drew the symbol of Avacyn with chalk on the loft floor, then surrounded it with pagan symbols, older than Avacyn herself. A combination of primal nature magic and the magic of the men of faith. Whistling a happy tune, Gadrick sat down, waiting for the sound of the door breaking down. This was his specialty. Waiting. Any man could claim to be good at waiting, but very few actually knew how to be completely calm when expecting something huge. The trick was to forget it. Gadrick forgot that the cathars were breaking in, forgot his spell symbols. He was just casually sitting down on his loft floor, whistling because life was good. Then came the sound, and with it the memories he had put aside. It took him no more than a movement of the hand, and the whole house crumbled under the pressure from enormous vines.
Gadrick sat by his campfire at the edge of the forest. Since he was a man who paid great respect to safety, he always made sure he had an open window before he made houses fall down on himself. Safety first, simple as that.
Nonchalantly strolling up the stairs, Gadrick prepared himself to leave his old house. In order to be fully reborn, he had to let his past self die, and bringing the house down with him would make an excellent dramatic exit. He drew the symbol of Avacyn with chalk on the loft floor, then surrounded it with pagan symbols, older than Avacyn herself. A combination of primal nature magic and the magic of the men of faith. Whistling a happy tune, Gadrick sat down, waiting for the sound of the door breaking down. This was his specialty. Waiting. Any man could claim to be good at waiting, but very few actually knew how to be completely calm when expecting something huge. The trick was to forget it. Gadrick forgot that the cathars were breaking in, forgot his spell symbols. He was just casually sitting down on his loft floor, whistling because life was good. Then came the sound, and with it the memories he had put aside. It took him no more than a movement of the hand, and the whole house crumbled under the pressure from enormous vines.
Gadrick sat by his campfire at the edge of the forest. Since he was a man who paid great respect to safety, he always made sure he had an open window before he made houses fall down on himself. Safety first, simple as that.