Aervery Rhian the Channeler of the Spirits

Title History

Role

Chapter 3

Pacing in the small room she has called home for the last year and a half,
Arvery is still surprised that she managed to stay within the school for so
long. She felt just as closed to being kicked out today as the day she walked
to the gates and was met with deep throated laughter when she asked to be
taken is as a new trainee. Although, today she really was being kicked out,
but in a far different way than she has expected.

Eyeing the tome lying on the stripped down bed, she shook her her head and
instead picked up the old drawing that she always found inspiration in, one
that had been folded and unfolded to many times it was nearly ready to fall
in two. The spear maiden, or an image artfully drawn on the page, handed to
her by a paladin several years ago amongst a crowd of others as he barked out
to passers by preaching the word of the Lady Jaguar, and the tenants of
combat, courage, and purity, although most of his words fell on deaf ears,
her ears still rang to this day of them.

She had always been raised to be caring of the good hearted, and hearing of
Baerinika that day sealed her fate and she set about learning all she could
to be a maiden of the spear as well, though her family did their best to
dissuade her, pointing out that she hardly had the makeup of a warrior, and
she heard the same things many times once she talked her way into the walls
she was still sheltered in.

Folding the page up once again and tucking it inside the big tome on her bed
she sits down next to it and starts paging through it, making out the strange
words inside with more and more ease with each week. Scanning though the
portions related to angels and archons, as she had many times before, she
taps her lips in thought "Not a spear maiden myself perhaps, but still a
force to be reckoned with. And perhaps even such in a way that the Jaguar
herself will still let me carry her words on to others." Snapping the thick
book shut, she takes up her remaining gear and heads out the door for the
last time.

Role

Chapter 2

Holding up a hand, he signals to all present that he is not done yet, cutting
of the beginning of murmured condolences.

Speaking louder, he continues.

"But I was wrong too. You have proven time and again that you are not weak in
spirit, you have shown the heart and the passion that all of us would be wise
to strive to match. The Light guides you, but sometimes we must learn to see
past weakness and embrace our strengths, wherever they are, and however ill
suited they may be" Shouting sharply, the man calls toward the arena gates,
"Geoffy!"

Looking up from her somewhat dejected stance on the arena floor, Arvery's
mouth drops open when she sees her commander step through the archway with a
large tome under his arm she recognizes instantly with its deep brown color
from years of care and oiled leather bindings. Eyes quickly falling back to
the dirt, she squeezes her eyes shut for a moment and takes a deep breath
trying to regain her wits. Hearing the hollow thump of the thick book being
passed from one hand to another as Geoffy hands it to Jon, the highest
ranking member of this facility, Arvery steels herself and raises her eyes to
meet the gaze of the man that she was sure was about to berate her for
bringing an arcanist tome to a school dedicated to warriors as a final blow
before sending her away a failure.

Instead, he speaks softly to her. "Yes. We knew about it. Your book of magic.
But as I said, sometimes you have to learn to see past the what is right in
front of you, and realize that there are other things to be found other
strengths." Hefting the book and opening it to turn though its ancient pages,
he runs a hand over a sketch of an intricate circle and the visage of a power
ArchAngel floating within it. "I can make sense of these sketches, but, can
you make sense of what is written in this book?"

Face set, the girl nods sharply, but adds a small shrug to indicate she
didn't understand all of it yet.

"Well, that is more than any of us can say here, say here by far. It is about
the planes, is it not?" Waiting for another nod before going on, he makes his
point. "Why you came here, instead of to a school for mages, I'll never know,
but that doesn't mean that you can't leave us without learning something. You
take that book, and you find others that understand it too, and you apply
yourself to something that comes naturally to you, and you combine that with
the instincts you learned here,and the heart you proved you had to us over
and over, and you will be fighting the wicked in combat in ways none of here
could even dream. That book can help you bring beings here that can lend
strength where you do not have it, fighting for the light, and with your
guidance. You will not be a warrior for the light yourself, but you may be
able to call them forth. And that can be your strength."

Role

Chapter 1

With the sharp, slow grind of gravel pressed under her boot as she slowly
turns to keep her opponent in front of her, a bead of sweat breaks free from
the young girls brow and trickles down her cheek before dropping to the arena
floor. The smooth wood of the quarterstaff in her hand and the man in front
of her, waiting for her, clearly out matched, and ready to react for the blow
they both knew he would easily be able to handle and and then return with one
that she would not.

Moments more for the tension of the face off, and then with a shift back to
her right and attempted swing to the left her attack results in a brief crack
of staff meeting staff, then the matching staff deftly rebounds from the
impact and propels the opposite end in past guard and sharply into her ribs.
Grunting, and with knees nearly buckling, the girl forces herself to wait a
moment to breath so that she doesn't embarrass herself more by gulping in the
air that has been knocked from her lungs, and painfully stands back erect,
grounding her staff in the gravel and quickly wiping watery eye blurred from
the pain of the blow.

Looking the man in the face, but not allowing herself to look around at her
peers around them, she doesn't let disappointment mar her face, but knows the
time to admit the truth has long come and gone. Clearing her throat to make
sure it will not betray her by cracking, she admits "It is over for me here.
I am no warrior, and I will never best you to pass the trials, or anyone else
here for that matter, sir."

With a deep sigh and a nod, the man looks at her for several moments and nods
again in agreement. "You are right, my dear Arvery, you cannot, and will not
ever be able to. It is the same as the day you came to us. I told it to you
then and it is the same as today. You may have shown you have spirit, and the
heart for combat, but you are weak, slow, and do not have the hand for the
ways of a warrior of the light, and heart can only account for so much. You
are not strong enough in the flesh for your will to make you what you are
not. You will not ever leave these grounds passing the trials it is not meant
for you."

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