CHPT 304: Within the Heart of the Wild, Any Man can Find his Relationship with Fear Growing more Intimate....

Early Tuesday Morning, December 4th, 2240. The Hibernating Berserker's condition continues to stabilize...

Another night, another nightmare. Fenrir was nowhere to be found-- as if the wolven monstrosity was building up suspense and enjoying every second. What Claude had done was paramount in what Fenrir desired. First....it was the Raiders-- criminals, filth that leaked into the cities of SkyHaven and poisoned its inhabitants. He gave them what they deserved-- he'd do it again.

But this time-- he'd done something far different in the eyes of many. He ripped apart a team of Night Runners. It was undoubtedly a leap Fenrir would excited to remind him of constantly....and yet, Claude was left to wonder where he was.

Waiting for such an event did him no good. Trolls....contstant snow storms....mountainous climbs.....impossibly heavy boulders....Draugr..and more. All awaiting him somewhere far from where he was currently.

He was reminded of that more strongly with every passing night alone with his own traumas. When Fenrir finally returned, he'd expect more. More strength....a beast closer to his ferocity, less mercy....more progress. Now. In Fenrir's eyes, he had taken another step towards monstrosity...another inch of his eyelids had parted and with it he'd become more accustomed to the gruesome sight of reality.

So, when the day-- night came. He'd need to show his growth.

The thought grew his cloud of anxiety into a storm that plagued his consciousness. Arne played a part in easing such tensions when he causally reminded him about his six unspent Skill Points.

When your life is in the constant flow of combat, nightmares, discovery, worry.....and more combat, you tend to forget how your own power rewards you through overcoming adversity time and time again. A process also known as, leveling.

He spent the payoff on such a process with a simple thought in mind. Don't aim to become a jack of all trades, but don't become a one trick pony either. His weaknesses needed to become less of a liability for him in combat.

Two points in HP. His Health was catastrophically low. And without a Healer, such a fact could be the end of him if it stays that way.

One in Mana. The path of Druidry was one as magically taxing as it was physical. Maybe even more so down the line. He still had a lot to learn. Better safe than sorry.

Two in Speed, one in Strength. Out here, he was a full time Spear user. The way of the sword was a distant memory. And as such, his physical growth now partially revolved on how he could make his body blend with the weapon. The spear is a weapon of variety in purpose and style-- he planned to use that in combat. It's thrusting power and ability to pierce armor was one that stood out from other weapons easily-- so strength was a requirement. But, he also used Short-Spears. Both weapons had high-speed slashing potential of matching importance as bladed weapons. With matching speed and strength, he could fully utilize both to the best of his current ability.

Then again, who knows. Maybe in the future he'd favor one style over the other. For now, it was the best choice.

***

When he'd first stepped into the open dome within the woodland, the sun was on the rise. Darkness remained, early morning birds sang of the suns emergence as he slowly fell into a steady tempo of training.

A routine was developing. Things were steadying after the Full Moon. He didn't let that relax him. Another wave of violence was no doubt on the rise, he had to be ready. So, training retained it's usual level of intensity.

Training as a Druidic Warrior-- A Lunar Druidic Warrior.

He still had worlds of knowledge to attain-- but he found one difference since awakening the Ancient Seed and his power as a Druid.

His natural vision. His personal world of greens that required a blank mind to be seen as a perfect reflection of reality. It had changed. It used to be darkness, carpeted with varying glowing shades of verdant and little else. It was the natural world in its purest form. That's what it used to be.

Now, when he stepped out in the early mornings or dark of nights, the dark sky above was split by the baleful pale blue glow of the Moon. Like a celestial eye peering into his little world, it glowed with an ancient intensity. It's rays did little to lessen the dark above, but below....the light of luna spread and illuminated like a sun.

He wasn't yet sure of his own range with the ability. But he was sure that his vision broadened in the presence of the Moon.

Being a Lunar Druid could become more of an asset then he could've thought. Unfortunately, he couldn't see such heights first hand since the only other Lunar Druid-- Lilith Leto, was a raging narcissistic psycho Witch that could Shape-Shift into a murderous Silver Wolf. No role models there.

So, just like his journey as a Lupine, he worked alone. Relatively.

Currently, that's exactly what he was doing. Training-- alone. The sun had long since risen to prominence-- the assisting glow of the Moon for his natural vision now a mere memory....a foretelling.

He shoved it to the back of his mind along with the rest of his questions and existential crisis' as Arne once put it. Training required clarity of the mind.

Clarity....a word he was slowly becoming more intimate with as he spent more time in his own dark world. Ironic.

And with the rise of clarity, he required more of himself in each session. It had only been two days. But he'd progressed.

What was once a series of difficultly held simple exercises had grown into holding impressive acrobatic feats and maneuvers for relatively decent amounts of time.

like now.

He sat in the small clearing within the woodlands. The pack surrounded, fatigued from their own training, while the bird that looked suspiciously unlike a Raven watched from above as he balanced in the center of the field in a handstand.

Beads of sweat raced up his back, pulled by gravity to follow the deep grooves of muscle, veins and scarring that lined every inch of him. He'd been in the position for an unknown amount of time. Long enough for the steady drip of sweat to become an almost hypnotic beat on his sensitive ears while his arms and upper back muscles stung with every passing second.

He was close to his limit. He could feel it, the hold loosening. Perfect time to increase the challenge.

With a deep shaky breath, he split his legs that were once held in two perfect straight lines. As they slowly parted to create a counterbalance, he let his weight shift. The veins and muscles in his right arm became more pronounced as it slowly began to bare all his weight with shaky success. With the shift to his right, his left hand left the floor.....first his palm rose...then his pinky...ring...middle...index.

He sat in effortful silence in a one armed handstand as the glowing world of green looked up at him in reverse.

10...9....7....6...

"Come on...."

5...4...3--

"Monsieur la bête! Protector of homes....and master of parlor tricks..hahA!"

"Ah--"

Thud

Maybe he wasn't training alone.

After falling out his static hold, he gathered himself off the grass and lifted his blindfold to find Rollan leaned against a tree with his comically dull Claymore held in the crook of his left arm. The usual brown bottle occupied his right hand.

"[Seems he's back to drinking...]" Arne commented as Claude let his eyes trace over Rollan's face. The once unsettling level of icy hardness that lined it was drowned behind the rising tide of warming alcohol.

"....Good morning to you too." Claude growled as the Wolves gathered behind him, recovering still from the fright of Rollan's sudden emergence. The bird above watched him calmly.

"Mhm.." Rollan nodded in reply before taking another swig of his drink. "You're progressing well...despite my previous words. You must move at your own pace, no?"

"Yea..." Claude nodded before looking up at him again, "Speaking of progression, how quickly did you get the hang of it?"

Rollan shrugged with a warm smile, "I am a different case from you in many ways, Monsieur. I was accustomed to Magic since birth....I had much more time."

If Claude was drinking water, now would've been the time for him to spit it out, "Rollan, what the fuc--...You're a Wizard?"

Rollan shook his head-- giving him a possible partial answer that only birthed more questions, "What I am is of no concern to your training."

"Ask a better question." Claude was learning to translate Rollan's words, "...Alright. Well there's something new I've found that is of concern to my training.."

"..Ask away." The tall and thin Druid said, looking pleased.

"The Moon. I saw it when It was out-- while I saw through my Element.....that wasn't a thing before."

Rollan let his sword/cane rest against the tree as he began pacing with the branch-like fingers of his left hand scratching his smooth chin, "....Hmmm yes, the one's I once knew described a similar phenomena. I've heard a Moon Druids Natural Sight grows wider and more vivid in the presence of the Moon."

Rollan had just solidified one of Claude's thoughts, causing him to search for more answers, "Who are the Moon Druids?"

Rollan shrugged. "Among us, there is variety as you know..and some are more elusive than others. The Druids of the North and the Moon Druids were the most elusive of us. They never convened with the rest..never communicated. They were moving on their own. Some theorized that they didn't even hang around other humans, hm?"

Claude sat up fully, "Wait....so you didn't know anything about Moon Druids-- despite having many in your....what was it called?"

"Grove." Rollan corrected before adding, "Yes. We knew next to nothing. It became our objective to find them and seek the knowledge we required to make sure their growth was worthwhile in our Grove."

"That's why you guys were travelling...." Claude realized.

"Druids are nomadic people usually. We always travel-- but yes, that became our goal. The natural followers of the Moon was our destination. But, as you know, we didn't reach the end of that journey..." The warm haze of drunkness slipped from his face for a second before he raised the bottle to his lips once more.

"...And you didn't learn anything. Fuck." He whispered to himself.

"No, no..." Rollan started, "We learned. We traveled...followed followed myths and gossip...talks of small villages until we found ourselves following something similar to a trail. And during that time, our Moon Druids grew. We learned of their connection to the Moon. The way it's fullness no longer scared them..."

"[The Full Moon Hysteria left them....interesting.]"

"...After a few years of travel, we realized that their conjurations of nature instilled a feeling similar to what the humans feel on the Full Moon...as if the Moon's rays expelled a magic that seeped into their Elements."

"Lunar Magic.....Lunar Magic infused Nature."

"Then again who knows!?" Rollan started with a silly smile, "Maybe the simple...ehh...allure of mystery was enough to scare us. All I know, is there was one piece of evidence that told us of the Moon Druids power."

Claude focused on the man as he sluggishly paced through the forest around him.

"...We were nearing our end. In the far east end of Arthuria-- in a Village. We'd just freshened their soil and given them crops good enough to sell anywhere and even better to eat. They were gracious enough to give us lodging and....information. They said Raiders and Bandits circled through their old area often before they had to move-- robbing other wandering Nomads and such. Until they'd come upon their final group. We learned it was a Grove of Druids based on the way the villagers described their...uhh..clothing, hm?"

Claude nodded along.

"They said only one of them fought-- but he killed almost all six of them in a flash. Swallowed them up in the sudden growth of a forest that ripped and consumed them. The village people knew other Raiders were alive inside, but they never left. They just screamed.....it kept people up at night, no? So, they watched it often, listening to the survivors sound like they were being tortured inside....until the animals came. They said the animals entered, and a few hours later there was no more screams, Monsieur."

"They were eaten....obviously." He whispered.

Rollan nodded, "Yes, but that wasn't enough. During the night, Animals would emerge from the new forest that was now their home. They'd steal men, women and children....only to drag them back inside the place. That forest probably held the skeletons of a hundred humans long before we found them in their new home."

Lightbulb moment, "That's why they moved. The forest was making the Animals more ferocious...like the Full Moon."

Rollan nodded, "They didn't call it a forest. They said it didn't much look like one....we didn't get to see since it was burned out of existence a few months later by a team of Heroes....a few teams actually. The animals within apparently consumed the first team."

"What did they call it? The Village people I mean."

"Hmm.." Rollan looked as if he were trying to remember, "They said it was what the man muttered before the forest emerged....it could be wrong since I've never heard the word before-- but then again it makes sense. They called it the Manorium."

"....Like...place of Mania?..Or home of Hysteria?" Claude asked, working to split the word for a better understanding.

"Yes. That was the one glaring difference the Moon Druids had from us that we knew of...."

Claude sat on the thought for a while.

"But!" Rollan cut in with a clap, "That doesn't matter now. You're still new...and your Tree needs to be tended to. Come on, this is where you'll learn of your Crest!"

As Claude got up, a thought slowly began to build.

"...How beneficial would a forest of fear be to a Lupine his Pack of Wolves?...."

"[Two.]" Arne corrected.

"What?"

"[The question is, how beneficial would this....Home of Hysteria, be to two Lupines and a pack of predators?]"