Scarecrow of Astral Winds
Feb 26, 2014 0:35:22 GMT
Fianna Dragonfly and Adoven Leoros Bloodwynd like this
Post by scarecrow on Feb 26, 2014 0:35:22 GMT
Some know of him, few know what he is, and not one knows who bore him, not even he knows that. In fact, his first memory is of being tied to a stake in the middle of a field, hands and feet bound, while strung up for gods knows why.
He was there for three days, in the rain, the cold, and wind. Then by mere chance, a monk by the name of Damien, the current Guildmaster of Monks, had taken a walk and happened upon this strange creature strung up to a post. He quikly ran and untied the unconscious "bird-thing" and whisked him away to the Monks guildhall where he gave food and water to this... thing. But Damien couldn't call him a "bird-thing" forever, and upon prying, the creature had no memory of his life before being found, not even a name.
After a few weeks, the monk had offed the "bird-thing" a choice. Stay here and train, or wander to who knows where. The creature took the former option without hesitation, and so his training began. Weeks and weeks of strength, and agility training would eventually turn into ambition to begin competing. after all, what do you expect of a monk of balance, all they do is look for the next challenge in order to better themselves, and achieve this so-called balance.
So the creature signed up to fight. Gladiator style, a one on one tournament with one champion. His training did him wonders as he charged into battle, wearing no armor or shield, slashing with his glaive along the way. Soon there was only one left, an archer of considerable aim who had deadshot every single opponent with one arrow in each of his rounds. The creature stood face to face with him, and dropped his signature polearm to the ground, armed with only a dagger and a throwing knife, stood and grinned. The archer shot his arrow, which in all fairness should have landed. However, the monk training was designed to combat this exact foe, and the bird deftly blocked the arrow with a quick upswing of his dagger, as he raced in for the kill. The archer, not to be outdone, had already nocked another arrow and was aiming to fire when the solitary throwing knife had stuck in his bow and split it down the middle. The creature was upon him, he watched a dagger sink into his chest.
Cheers and fanfair met the creatures ears. The reeve walked onto the field to declare the victor with no name. "And the victor is......."
"Scarecrow.... I am a... the Scarecrow... the tengu of Astral Winds."
He was there for three days, in the rain, the cold, and wind. Then by mere chance, a monk by the name of Damien, the current Guildmaster of Monks, had taken a walk and happened upon this strange creature strung up to a post. He quikly ran and untied the unconscious "bird-thing" and whisked him away to the Monks guildhall where he gave food and water to this... thing. But Damien couldn't call him a "bird-thing" forever, and upon prying, the creature had no memory of his life before being found, not even a name.
After a few weeks, the monk had offed the "bird-thing" a choice. Stay here and train, or wander to who knows where. The creature took the former option without hesitation, and so his training began. Weeks and weeks of strength, and agility training would eventually turn into ambition to begin competing. after all, what do you expect of a monk of balance, all they do is look for the next challenge in order to better themselves, and achieve this so-called balance.
So the creature signed up to fight. Gladiator style, a one on one tournament with one champion. His training did him wonders as he charged into battle, wearing no armor or shield, slashing with his glaive along the way. Soon there was only one left, an archer of considerable aim who had deadshot every single opponent with one arrow in each of his rounds. The creature stood face to face with him, and dropped his signature polearm to the ground, armed with only a dagger and a throwing knife, stood and grinned. The archer shot his arrow, which in all fairness should have landed. However, the monk training was designed to combat this exact foe, and the bird deftly blocked the arrow with a quick upswing of his dagger, as he raced in for the kill. The archer, not to be outdone, had already nocked another arrow and was aiming to fire when the solitary throwing knife had stuck in his bow and split it down the middle. The creature was upon him, he watched a dagger sink into his chest.
Cheers and fanfair met the creatures ears. The reeve walked onto the field to declare the victor with no name. "And the victor is......."
"Scarecrow.... I am a... the Scarecrow... the tengu of Astral Winds."
