Status: (Emergency Services)
Status: (Adamantine Arrow)
Skill: Medicine
Improvised Spell, for casting Non-ruling improvised spell
The Shaman paced around the training area of the Arrow Tower, It was a safe place for his study and training. However contrary to the usual activities of the physical training that this area would normally host, this instead was another night of meticulous theory and thought provoking situations that drove his ability to learn and study his arcana. The one benefit of working in the medical profession was being able to use real world examples, as thought experiments, to invoke the creativity needed to fully understand the life arcanum. However the Shaman was hitting a wall, the mounting stress of foes lurking in the shadows was making it difficult to clear his mind and kept resorting to his medical knowledge instead of creatively solving the problems with magic. On top of this the weight of burden that was being manifested by the pressures of needing to duel for the sake of the Consilium. So with every wall placed in his way to unlocking the path forward he was left with a building sense of desperation that left him feeling that no progress towards his goal was failure.
Come on man, you can't do anything when you are clouded by these looming stresses. Go back to the fundamentals... what was it that we did when we didn't know how to move forward....
The Shamans mind cast back to his earlier days as a mage, only a few weeks into his mentorship. His mentor was many things: strict, firm, blunt and loud but she was also so much more when he dug into the why. A smile and a soft laugh to himself as he stood alone in the training hall, he knew exactly what she would tell him to do in this moment as if she had personally said it into his ear.
Alright, I hear you, I will try it your way. The Shaman got down and began to do push ups. Up and Down he began to only focus on the keeping rhythm, because after a while his muscles began to send their warnings and then that would be all he could think about. The Shaman is reminded of a piece of knowledge his mentor had bestowed upon him during a session of physical training and so he repeats out loud what was spoken to him. “When you struggle to think, You need more oxygen in the brain. To get more Oxygen in the brain you need more blood pumping. To get more blood pumping, you will train.” A sort of motivation to help remind him of why he was doing this.
The Shaman pushed himself as far as his arms could give him, sweating and panting he knew that a break was needed. He sat himself against a wall, one leg bent up at the knee and the other laying flat onto the floor. He sat staring aimlessly across the training hall, the silence offering a calmness to him. A single flower bloomed out of the floor in the centre of the hall. That's not right... The flower turned to him, as if it could hear his objection to its existence and retreated down into the floor cracking and breaking the floor away. The Shaman fell into the hole that had opened up but as he looked out he could see clouds and open air, a strong warm sun beating down upon him. Some creatures that looked like birds approached him in this free fall, Some seemed perfectly normal but others seemed to be spliced with another unrelated creatures. One bird wielded pincers while another had fluffy but aerodynamic seal skin. He did not have long to contemplate what manner of mutation this was, as a looming shadow was cast over him as he felt the chill instantly. The birds grabbed onto his shirt at the shoulders and effortlessly dragged him down, the speed of which they flew made it seem like he was standing still before. He looked down and could see the birds were taking him to a thick forest, trees that on first inspection looked standard but as he passed the initial canopy of the trees he could see that the ground was still quite the way away. The trees themselves were taller then he had ever seen in his life and was teeming with creatures and blooms of flora. As he flew over the forest floor he was given a clear view that life here was wild, harsh but fair. Creatures hunted as per the nature of the wild, Creatures with mismatched features chasing other such creatures only to be ambushed by an incredibly large plant that lie in wait for a meal itself.
The birds that carried the Shaman, continued on their journey and soon something stood out in his mind. A stone structure that stood alone, amongst the bushes and trees, commanded his attention. There was a sense of familiarity about it, despite the location he was guided through being unknown to him. The birds placed him down on top of the moss covered steps lead up to this structure and they departed as quickly as they appeared to him. On first look the structure seemed lost to the forest but at the same time seemed to repel the wildlife that inhabited the local area. The door created from the branches of similar make as the trees that made up the canopy of the forest, life still flowed within the branches as if they were there willingly and with purpose. He did not have time to inspect for long as dirt and dust was kicked up behind him, with an accompanying boom. A heavy breathing sent chills up his spine and his heart began to race as he turned to meet the gaze of what had followed his decent. As if ripped from a book of fiction a huge winged creature with three distinct heads hungrily eyed the shaman. A Tail stinger whipped and poised itself to strike as the heads of the creature drooled in anticipation. Time to go. The Shaman made for the door as a roar echoed behind him, without touching them the branches bent to open for him as he entered.
The Shaman stirred with a jolt, he was back in the quiet training hall. This time he felt different, he felt inspired. He could not say if what he had seen was a manifestation of something real or if it was just a dream that was conjured up by his desire to be something more. Regardless he was given new ideas and new ways to consider what he had learned up until this point. He was ready to put training and theory to the test with this inspiration. He walked to the centre of the training hall and took a deep breath in and draw his blade which served as his magical tool. The shaman began chanting and envisioning his form changing into that of a black short hair cat.
Paradox - failure
With the spell taking hold, the shaman is reduced down to the size of which he envisioned he watched as the clothes he wore had fallen off but this was a safe place. He was overjoyed to see that his handwork and dedication had paid off. He had retained himself and had not got lost in the new form that he had conjured. This is an incredible breakthrough, I can still think and am in control. Alright lets make the most of this while it lasts... As the spell continued the shaman began to enjoy the fun of being a cat with the benefit of being able to control and steer it all the way up until the spell finally finished. With the Shaman back in his original form, he dressed and went off to take a well earned break, he knew in his heart that he had achieved Mastery of Life.
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