Cantrip (Abidance)
Strike Failure
Gaius enjoyed the city at night. Perhaps that was only natural for one such as him, an omen who thrived in darkness and who was weakened in light. He was to prey on humans through social engineering, tricking them to trust him to get his sustenance. He did not prey on the helpless. Well, not these days, at least. He was an omen and he liked to find good reasons to glut himself outside the carefully controlled offerings of his servants.
There was no heroic impulse behind preying on those who preyed on others. It was simply convenient. They would not be missed, in many cases, and he did it only rarely. His hunger for flesh was undeniable, but it was one he did not indulge too often. The Strix kept an eye out for opportunities, however, and that was why the sound of two pairs of running feet piquet his interest.
A rapid pace, not the steady cadence of a jog. Heavy breathing from exertion, racing heartbeats. Not far from where he was, just over the buildings. The Strix, dressed in black feathers and claws, jumped from his perch, spreading his dark wings wide as he flew up and over the expensive boutique street he'd been observing. He followed the sound of pursuit a few streets over, coming to a sorry street of strip malls.
The more winding roads of an older city, defined by naturals paths rather than grids, was left behind. The modern monstrosity of a strip mall loomed in the black, pools of light scattered around black asphalt that did no good to anyone but foul-smelling automobiles. He was half a mind to eat those who spearheaded such building projects, with no elegance or beauty in their greedy little heads.
But there, below. Two running figures. The ragged breath of those who were in genuine pursuit, perhaps even a little fear. The lead figure paused by an alleyway—looking for somewhere to hide?—as the other closed the distance. The pursuer was bigger. Male and muscular. Gaius did not care what the situation between the two was, but he was in a mood and as he swooped down to have a closer look, he could see the myriad of weaknesses he could exploit.
Hungry ears took in the sound of a heart pumping rapidly, lungs expanding and contracting. Ravenous eyes saw the old hamstring injury, and the glint of the moist ocular organs sitting in the man's skull. The Strix was an omen, but sometimes one saw the omen too late.
He dove down, snapping his wings out just in time to obscure the man's vision forward. Claws went for the eyes, his beak pecked, feeling soft flesh give way as the man tripped and screamed in horrified pain. They went down, the man falling to the side and rolling onto his back, hands grasping at the flapping raven as the Strix tugged and pulled at the juicy eye.
It was seated too firmly to be pulled free, so the Strix clawed and flapped, insistent that the eye should be his to consume.
Strike Failure
Gaius enjoyed the city at night. Perhaps that was only natural for one such as him, an omen who thrived in darkness and who was weakened in light. He was to prey on humans through social engineering, tricking them to trust him to get his sustenance. He did not prey on the helpless. Well, not these days, at least. He was an omen and he liked to find good reasons to glut himself outside the carefully controlled offerings of his servants.
There was no heroic impulse behind preying on those who preyed on others. It was simply convenient. They would not be missed, in many cases, and he did it only rarely. His hunger for flesh was undeniable, but it was one he did not indulge too often. The Strix kept an eye out for opportunities, however, and that was why the sound of two pairs of running feet piquet his interest.
A rapid pace, not the steady cadence of a jog. Heavy breathing from exertion, racing heartbeats. Not far from where he was, just over the buildings. The Strix, dressed in black feathers and claws, jumped from his perch, spreading his dark wings wide as he flew up and over the expensive boutique street he'd been observing. He followed the sound of pursuit a few streets over, coming to a sorry street of strip malls.
The more winding roads of an older city, defined by naturals paths rather than grids, was left behind. The modern monstrosity of a strip mall loomed in the black, pools of light scattered around black asphalt that did no good to anyone but foul-smelling automobiles. He was half a mind to eat those who spearheaded such building projects, with no elegance or beauty in their greedy little heads.
But there, below. Two running figures. The ragged breath of those who were in genuine pursuit, perhaps even a little fear. The lead figure paused by an alleyway—looking for somewhere to hide?—as the other closed the distance. The pursuer was bigger. Male and muscular. Gaius did not care what the situation between the two was, but he was in a mood and as he swooped down to have a closer look, he could see the myriad of weaknesses he could exploit.
Hungry ears took in the sound of a heart pumping rapidly, lungs expanding and contracting. Ravenous eyes saw the old hamstring injury, and the glint of the moist ocular organs sitting in the man's skull. The Strix was an omen, but sometimes one saw the omen too late.
He dove down, snapping his wings out just in time to obscure the man's vision forward. Claws went for the eyes, his beak pecked, feeling soft flesh give way as the man tripped and screamed in horrified pain. They went down, the man falling to the side and rolling onto his back, hands grasping at the flapping raven as the Strix tugged and pulled at the juicy eye.
It was seated too firmly to be pulled free, so the Strix clawed and flapped, insistent that the eye should be his to consume.