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| Stages Of Mentorship |
| (2013-04-14 - 2013-04-14) |
| Garland has a conversation with Angantyr about Archadia. |
| Garland | Mirage Tower is alive today. The ancient tower, normally so quiet and still, hums and whirs with the sounds of machinery. Today, the halls of this profane place are filled with all manner of mechanical menaces; ticking drones, clicking clockwork, and others besides. These mechanical creatures flitter and crackle along the walls, carefully enacting their maintenance rituals. Whatever is unlucky enough to be caught within Mirage Towers walls, be it human, beast, or otherwise, is swiftly...converted...into materials. Fortunately, most creatures know better than to enter the tower; those who do not... It is good that the screams do not reach the top level. Even if they did, no one would be able to hear them. The sounds of battle are furious and fearsome, the clash of metal against metal, iron against iron, unholy magicks against stone and bone and all the rest...today, this place is a temple of worship to the samsara of war, and its high priest is Garland. The Iron Tyrant's massive sword clangs off his apprentice's mace. Garland's relentless assault does not pause, not even for an instant; the ancient god of darkness swings his blade, shadows passing in his wake, with every intent to kill. For, as Garland is so often fond of repeating, only the strong survive in this callous world. Only the fierce, the aggressive, are capable of withstanding the brutal reality of the universe. It is a cold and apathetic world, Garland has repeated a thousand, thousand, thousand times - drilling the lessons of survival of the fittest into the heads of those he has taken under his wing, through any means necessary. "Good. Good!" Garland roars over his attack, grabbing the blade with both hands. "You have learned well. I am pleased, boy. Knight to E7!" |
| Angantyr Vespar | Garland's sword clashes against the mace of Angantyr as he moves to catch the blade...the powerful force of the weapon, being weilded in two hands causes Angantyr's teeth to shake, his arms going numb from trying to match the man's strength head on, but he still persists. The knight's move prevents him from taking the quick route to victory, Garland easily able to see passed such novice tactics to winning swiftly. The chess set automatically moving, as both men were too busy in battle to try and actually move the pieces. Angantyr, however, uses the various grips on the blade to latch onto the sword, trying to snap it up...or at the very least cause Garland to try and rebalance...trying to cause him to go on the defensive...or even better, go on the offensive without his weapon. Both were possibilities. "Bishop to E4, Check." Angantyr says, not expecting to easily win, but to try and put pressure on the Eldrich thing, and uses their close quarters to swing a darkness soaked hand into the powerful armor of Garland... The first time he had done that he'd nearly broken his hand...now... Metal and rock break under the darkn knight's powerful blows, but Garland's armor will not shatter his bones this day. "I'll take the job you offered, thirty times as you offered." |
| Garland | It was an important exercise. It taught intelligence; it taught tactical awareness; it taught coolness under fire. Garland had an intense fondness for teaching chess in the midst of battle, especially a teaching battle - against an appropriate opponent, it was a true test of his skills, the sort of test that Garland had ultimately forgotten long ago. His.../other/ students had never necessarily been skilled at war or chess, usually one or the other, but Angantyr was rapidly shaping up to be a proper opponent for him. If Garland could be *fond* of people, he'd even be fond of his latest discovery. "Knight to E4." Garland replies calmly, the other knight on the table shifting itself gently to knock the bishop from its place, even as Garland's blade is caught by the handle. Garland releases the blade instantaneously, sacrificing his weapon rather than go off-balance; when Angantyr's black fist comes swinging about, Garland's iron claw meets it. The darkness that roars from Angantyr's hand is, understandably, painful - Garland would not allow it to be anything but painful. Pain was a reminder of carelessness. Pain was the price of /stupidity/. Pain was a necessary existence to honing oneself. But it is not armor-piercing, not met by Garland's palm. "Thirty times? I thought it was sixteen. Nonetheless, it is meaningless to me. Take your money, then." Garland shifts the tone of battle entirely, replying fist with fist; he swings his free hand around for Angantyr's stomach, chancing on it being too difficult to block a potentially very painful blow from Garland's spiked gauntlet for Angantyr to swing his mace. "But I suspect that the true reward will be of far more interest to you." |
| Angantyr Vespar | Gauntlet meets stomach...Angantyr had grown slightly rusty...not of fighting, but of fighting GARLAND. Garland reacts differently, MUCH more than other people...however, Angantyr was already moving backwards, mvoing to seperate him from his weapon...not that Garland was any LESS dangerous with it...but he had one less barrier between Ang's mace and Garland's body. This doesn't make him any less of a threat...it just makes hitting him hard, slightly easier. Angantyr thinks tactically...and advantage you can give yourself when fighting a superior foe you take. The punch is only blocked by armor, causing Ang to nearly cough up blood, but the force wasn't enough to take him down...but only just barely so. Angantyr lands from the blow, stagging back, but immediately finding his footing again, and trailing blazing darkness as he runs forward. The Knight counters the Bishop, that's fine...acceptable losses, even a high valued piece was considered acceptable. The Knight, itself was vulnerable...but that wasn't even the point either. "Rook to E8, check." Angantyr says, as he swings the mace up, aiming to try and catch Garland with the full force of a massive wave of darkness that aims to chew at the man's armor. Ang looks not to put him in check, but force Garland to choose between his Queen or putting his king into a tactically unsound position. However, Garland talks of...other things, "True reward? If you think to reward me with the blood of the TDA, I am not interested. They pissed me off, sure, but if I had a gil for everytime I've been pissed off I'd be richer than you, old man." |
| Garland | Angantyr has learned his lessons well. He is rusty, but he is quickly recovering. Again, Garland is pleased by this, even as the boy swings his dark magicks into Garland's stomach; the darkness pushes against his armor, but it will not be enough, not on its own. But it does hurt. It hurts, and that is testament enough to Garland that the boy does well. Kuja was capable of injuring him after a decade; Angantyr has only had a scant few years, but already he has become skilled beyond Garland's expectations. "Enough," Garland observes, releasing the shadows around him; the darkness dies, and Garland stands, taking a more passive stance. He banishes the blade in Angantyr's hand with a wave of his palm, folding his hands behind his back as he moves over to the chess board. "Enough of this, as well. You did well today. Better than usual. Soon I will have to give you a new opponent to play against - you are becoming far too used to my style." Garland flicks his king over idly as Angantyr lets off his rant. "Now, now, boy. We've talked about controlling your anger and jumping to conclusions. I have my own personal methods of dealing with the Detective Agency. No, that would hardly be a reward for you." "What I have in mind is slightly...closer to your heart." Garland picks up the king in his hand, fiddling with it slowly; the piece runs between his massive iron claws as he considers it silently. That was the problem with chess, of course - the king was the weakest piece. In a way, chess was commentary on the whole world. The weak king, the mighty power behind the throne, the church that only thinks in lines, the pawns marching to their doom...chess was a tiny mirror of the world Garland sought to bring to its end. His thumb closes around the king, and it shatters. "No, the blood of the Detectives will not whet your mace's appetite...but I suspect that Archadean blood will." |
| Angantyr Vespar | Angantyr pauses...either he'd actually hurt Garland enough to warrent him using something that might outright kill him... Or that buisness was on the table...and given the fact he was talking buisness...damn it, he'll never know for certain now. Damn you old man. Angantyr lets the darkness be dismissed, though it tugs a bit even at Garland's control. Angantyr's darkness was always slow to act to the desires of another, even when Angantyr wasn't resistant. Angantyr watches, the King is obliterated, which... "Good thing we have a endless supply of those." he quips, and shrugs at the comment of his anger and conclusions, "Point taken, you've been fixated on them lately, or rather, this dark elf witch thing..." he pauses, Arcadian blood.. This has his attention, very much so now, "Interesting...you're not the only one wanting me to deal with Arcadia lately." Angantyr says, "But I do so love spilling their blood." |
| Garland | No, indeed, Angantyr will never know, and that's just the way Garland likes it. The ambiguity, the uncertainty - it was Garland's chief and favored tool in his training lessons. Let the boy figure it out on his own; if he never did, oh well. It wasn't like Garland wasn't going to outlive him by several million years anyway. He could always get another later when this one inevitably turned on him or betrayed him or disappointed him in some small fashion that eventually grew into a great miserable disappointment. Oh well. The thing about people was that they were human. It was such a miserable flaw. "Then I suppose you will collect twice over, boy. Archadea's blood will run red across your mace.../if/ you satisfy me on this job. If you fail me, or decide to betray me, I shall obviously have to take...measures." Garland picks up the other king and crushes it, too. "But I trust in you, boy. I trust in you to get things done." |
| Angantyr Vespar | Angantyr shakes his head... "No intent on it." Angantyr says, with a shrug. "I am curious to what Arcadia did to gain your ire.." he says, raising a brow. Slowly, he turns to look at the rest of the board. "Hm...I still wonder where you get these things." Angantyr muses, but he digresses, "Another Arcadian job came up recently...I wonder, what do you know about Nethicite?" Angantyr asks. He doesn't know much about it himself...it's just a very powerful rock, though he knows that Arcadia has been rumored to artificially produce some...and that they are looking for the stone of the Dalmascian origin. "And yeah, I know, once I take a job I see it through." |
| Garland | "Good. I certainly hope you do." Garland turns to face Angantyr again, the massive Iron Tyrant's hands tucked back beneath his cape. "I expect you will not disappoint me, boy." "As for the Archadians...they have done nothing to rouse my ire. They are mere pawns on the board, as all the civilizations of man are before me." Garland does not push over the pawn as illustration. That would be meaningless and silly. "But they will be most useful pawns, and I anticipate giving you much of their blood in the coming days. I shall endeavor to slake your thirst, boy...I think you will be most pleased." Garland pauses, visibly tilting his head to the side at Angantyr as he mentions 'nethicite'. The word was unfamiliar to Garland, as far as he knew. Granted, his own memories were not exactly flawless; he may have heard the word from one of the many, many conversations he had with his agents and soldiers. "Nothing, as far as I am aware. I shall peruse my archives and see, however - nothing may escape my notice. Why? Where did you hear it?" |
| Angantyr Vespar | "It's an uncommon stone from our world. As far as I know it's fairly powerful, but in stories...apparently used by a anchient ruler to form a large empire, before it broke up into the current set up. Apparently Arcadia can artifically create it." Angantyr says, "I haven't seen it in action...yet, but I have been hired to try and damage their ability to make the stuff..." Angantyr shrugs, "But I have little knowledge of WHERE." And he'd like to get his hands on that kind of power... |
| Garland | "I see. I will endeavor to acquire a sample of such a thing," Garland replies after a long moment of consideration. Angantyr being interested in that made him...wary, for many, many reasons. "You did well today, boy. You may go about your business. I advise you leave through a portal today...the machines are currently undergoing their /maintenance cycle/." Garland waves his hand dismissively. |
| Angantyr Vespar | Angantyr nods, "I see, well then." Angantyr considers just doing it for shits and giggles, but that fight with Garland took a lot out of him. But Garland seems uninterested in who asked him to do this...whatever, he'll eventually ask...or not. And then Angantyr is gone, a corridor appearing to take him back to Traverse. |