Knight of Wessex (A Written World Quest)

[X] Begin Metamorphosis Now
-[X] Greater Stormcrow


Plump and fat from weeks of stuffing his belly full of food, Crowley tucks his beak beneath a wing as he wriggles deeper into his metamorphosis nest. Bits of shiny rock and polished metal decorate the straw, feathers, and leafy branches giving the nest its rounded shape. Unlike the nest a crow might construct for sleep or for family, the metamorphosis nest is designed to give as much protection as possible to the metamorphosing crow. As such, it blends in well with its surroundings. Once the process is done, the crow destroys the nest as it breaks free of the full-coverage cocoon.

Audrey watches her companion close his eyes and listens to his gentle snoozings, her heart full of contrary thought. Despite the admittedly lacking conversation, she has long grown used to the presence ever hovering over her shoulder. Already, the missing weight grows heavy on her mind, the absence of her Crowley digging its heels into the ground of her heart.

Only a few months until her soul is once more complete. Only a few more months until her Crowley returns to her.

Until then, however, church and sparring shall be her solace.

Spit flies from Royce Reids' slightly-too-wide lips as he stumbles back, nearly doubled over Audrey's fist still buried deep in his gut. The Squire of Slade Eldred's fighting skills are a far cry from the natural talents of herself or Chad Howlande, but he still fought better than poor Gilbert of Loxwale—who even now sat off to the side of the sparring field, nursing the broken nose Chad had accidentally given him from an errant blow.

Royce lashes out with a whip-fast archer's punch, his off-hand cocked back and ready to capitalise at a moment's lapse in Audrey's focus. It was a fine blow, the sort of attack that should've cracked her on the jawline and sent her stumbling under a hail of follow-up strikes.

Alas, not only is Audrey the better combatant, but she also far outclasses his cultivation. While the gap between Beads is nowhere near the ravine between Decades, she stands at the precipice of the Second Decade—nearly ready to step into the Third, in fact!—while Royce is barely on the Fourth Bead. Five Beads separate them, and those five Beads shall be Royce's defeat.

Slipping under the blow like a fisherbird's dive, Audrey's arm blurs into motion as her shoulder checks Royce's ribcage. Like a held breath finally escaping burning lungs, her elbow pulses with Soma-strength as it grinds into an already bruised stomach. Soma-strengthened skin fails beneath her strike, the impact sending ripples through flesh like the waves of the sea.

A phlegm-filled cough hacks free of Royce's throat as he staggers, completely off balance. His eyes glossy and his fingers limp, he sways off his feet. He topples, collapsing before Audrey's wicked smile.

And then his feet find firm footing as a sly grin spreads across his sharp-featured face.

"Gotcha," he says with a wink, as if that's supposed to mean anything.

Audrey goes to demand an answer, anger sparking in her heart at the blatant disrespect, but pauses. Not because she's realised some hidden truth or regained control over her emotions, no, but because her limbs simply refuse her command. She can't move; why?!

Wiping his spittle-coated chin clean with the back of a hand, Royce seems to read Audrey's mind as he answers with a chuckle, "The Reids are a small house of little standing, so it's no surprise you don't know of my family's bloodline. Touch me too many times and, well, your body becomes mine."

Ah, so she's lost this spar, has she? If Royce has command over her body, he could order her hands to pummel her face.

Audrey stumbles as she finds her limbs her own once more, only to stop before an outstretched hand.

"Good spar," Royce says as Audrey scowls and goes to shake his hand—it wouldn't do for the Heiress of the Eotenslaga to show poor sportsmanship, after all!—only for a spark to fire in her head as Audrey yanks her hand away.

Royce laughs, pivots on the spot, and saunters away, but not before calling over his shoulder one last time, "Next spar, maybe you'll win?"

Lightning buzzes beneath her flesh, the black-red bolts begging to be unleashed. Audrey takes a step towards Royce, the earth cracking beneath her feet as fervour hastens to her side. White sparks glint from the corners of her gaze, her fists curling into tight balls of manifest violence.

Next time? Oh, there won't be a next ti-

Audrey freezes, a weight suddenly settling across her shoulders and forcing her to her knees. The pressure of Slade Eldred's bloodline puts a stop to any ambitions of violence she might have, replaced by a sense of utter fear.

Bone-chilling droplets of icy fear drip down her spine, animalistic instincts warning her of a threat far beyond her strength.

And then, just as quickly as it came, the fear vanishes; though the weight on Audrey's shoulders lingers all the same.

Suddenly, Audrey doesn't feel much like sparring anymore.

0~0~0

Please plan out Audrey's activities and training over the next three months:

[ ] Example Plan
-[ ] [Focus Action] Insert Action Choice Here
-[ ] [Secondary Action] Insert Action Choice Here
-[ ] [Secondary Action] Insert Action Choice Here
-[ ] [Chancellery] Pick either Red-Black Lightning or Slowing Down for the Commons
-[ ] Training and Zeal (14 Training, 26 Zeal)
–[ ] Spend 14 Training on whatever you desire (7 at most may be spent on Feats and Shapes)
–[ ] Spend 0-26 Zeal on ???

AN: Surprise Update, go!