The daylight was dying, bleeding out in soft shades of orange and purple between the tall, silent pines.The world held its breath, and every rustle of a leaf, every snap of a twig. The air was a familiar tapestry of scents: pine resin, damp earth, the musky odor of wild boar, and the clean, metallic tang of the nearby stream. Roric's boots, worn and soft as a second skin, made no sound on the mossy ground. He was a shadow, a part of the woods he had patrolled for years.
This evening, he wasn't just on patrol; he was on a mission. A peaceful one. He was searching for a specific cluster of Nightshade berries, not for poison, but for the rare, sweet flavor they added to the stews his late wife loved to make and his daughter enjoyed. He moved with a quiet focus, his senses extended, his Flow supressed to a low, humming presence just beneath his skin, constantly sifting through the ambient energy of the forest. He could feel the pulse of a nesting bird high above and the slow, deliberate crawl of beetles under the fallen leaves. It was a kind of peace that nothing in the city could quite compare to. Finally he found the shrubs that had the berries and knelt down, opening his pouch and harvesting a bit,humming as he did so. The area around him was quite and serene with no sound but the rustling of leaves in the evening breeze. He was at peace.
That peace, however, was instantly shattered with a flash of movement. A flash of brown and black that moved with unnatural speed. Roric didn't think; he reacted. He rolled over to the left just as the sharp, tined antlers of a young buck missing his chest by a hair. It should have been a move born of pure, primal instinct, and for a moment, he thought he was facing down a startled animal. But then, he felt it. The chaotic, discordant Flow rippling off the creature. The deer's antlers grew the resemble the branches of a tree and it had a pair of glowing green eyes that stared at him with a vacant, hungry look. It had fangs and it's hoves had grown into a semblance of claws. It was also bigger,way bigger than a normal deer should be. This wasn't a scared animal; it was an Imbued Beast.
With the ease of a man who had done this a hundred times, Roric drew the hunting knife from his belt. As the deer charged again, he met it with a low grunt, a subtle wave of his own Flow reinforcing his arm. He didn't try to kill it; he simply guided the charge, using the animal's own momentum against it. He slapped the side of its head, a sharp, precise blow that sent it tumbling to the side, dazed but not incapacitated. The Imbued Flow was chaotic, but it was still Flow, and it made the beast faster, stronger, and far more dangerous than it had any right to be. It scrambled to its feet, its head low, a thin, sickly vapor coming from its nostrils.
Roric knew he couldn't let it get away. A single Imbued beast could cause untold damage.
'Where did it even come from? There would have been news about an Imbued Beast roaming the forest especially this close to the city. This doesn't seem right.'
With these thoughts,he moved forward, his knife a blur of silver, and with a swift, clean motion, put the creature out of its misery with a blow in between its eyes. He felt no triumph, only a deep-seated unease. This was wrong. Imbued beasts were a rare occurrence, as no mundane creature would stay close to a Node for long enough to become imbued unless they were already in it and the hunters went in there occasionally to keep the numbers small enough to maintain that ecosystem while preventing them from being a threat to the region with high numbers. For one to appear so close to Blackhaven without a single whisper of an incident was unheard of.
' Is this somehow related to what Al asked me to look into for him or is it just a coincidence?'
Rare as it was,it wasn't unheard of for Infused Beasts to be found wondering outside the nodes and so close to a human settlement.
The unease curdled into alarm when his senses went on full alert. He felt a tremor in the earth, not from a single beast, but from many. Dozens each having the same energy as the one he had just killed. He quickly broke one of the antlers of th dead beast and jumped up to a branch on the nearest pine tree, his calloused hands finding purchase on the rough bark with effortless grace. From his perch, he looked down on a sight that made the cold dread coil in his gut. A herd of what looked like over fifty deer, all with that same vacant hunger in their eyes, were moving in a disciplined formation. They were not wandering. They were heading south, in a direction that would take them straight to the outskirts of Blackhaven.
Panic was a luxury he couldn't afford. He knew what a herd like that could do to anyone unfortunate enough to be in their path. They would cause a substantial amount of damage before they were completely dealt with.
With a fluid motion, he dropped to the ground. He had no time to report; he had to act. He drew a deep breath, channeling his own Flow not for battle, but for a diversion. He was a master of the natural world with years of training and experience. He knew how to use its tools. He violently snapped a nearby branch tearing it from the tree, a sound that carried like a gunshot in the still night. The herd's heads snapped up, turning to face the new noise. He then jumped down and picking up the corpse of the dead Imbued deer moved hitting trees with the branch in his hand. The heard,attracted by the sound and blood dripping from a new wound Roric had inflicted on the corpse as well as his now pulsating Flow followed. He led them deeper into the woods, away from the city, his Flow a silent, pulsing beacon of distraction. He was a shepherd leading a flock of wolves, and he couldn't make a single mistake.
He ran not too fast but enough to be ahead of the heard and for them to keep sight of him but not get caught. Finally, he reached a small valley that he knew well. It was a natural containment, a small, enclosed area where the herd could exhaust their energy and he could leave them to be dealt with later. He stood still and waited for the herd to get close enough then jumped over them so he was now behind them. Then with a final, booming clap of his hands, he sent a surge of sound echoing into the valley. The herd, confused and disoriented, were blown into the ravine by the force. Roric, now had to ensure that these beasts didn't escape. So he decided to use his trait.
Roric was a Saint and his Trait was 'The Lovers'.
'The Lovers' thematically embodied bond, duality, attraction, and emotional resonance and so while a person of this Trait would have the same abilities as that of others with the same trait,the mindset and understanding of it would determine how it was manifested and how one could advance and gain an understanding of a newer aspect of its thematic concept gaining that ability.
Roric's application of his trait was to create and manipulate spiritual connections between beings.
He projected threads of Flow that sought out targets within range and bound them together. He used this to link the souls of all the Imbued Deer in a cluster, linking their life force and movement as if they were "lovers." With this ,any damage, emotional state, or physical action taken by one target echoes partially to the others bound to them.
For instance if one beast moved, the others would be dragged along, mirroring or resisting in equal measure.
If one is harmed, the others would feel echoes of the pain, discouraging rash attacks or breakaways.
If one attempted to flee, the bond snaps back violently or restricts movement like an elastic cord.
The bond could be anchored to the ground, buildings, or he himself, effectively immobilizing large groups through networked tethers. He used his ability to bind the herd to the ground freezing them in place. With how aggressive these deer were,he knew that they would try to break free. Luckily,Bonds could be detonated if needed, causing sympathetic spiritual shock or burning Soul damage based on the intensity of their resistance. One unfortunate buck made itself an example of this.