Welcome to Gaia! ::

General Information
The Shadow Run is both the simplest and most dangerous training course that can be run without a golem. A flurry of continuous attacks is what the Sun Division holds in highest respect, and the course reflects that. The course itself is a simple tunnel, reached via portal. Within the tunnel await hundreds of weak, hungry shadowlings. Nothing to worry about on their own, but capable of overwhelming a Hunter through sheer numbers at the first moment of weakness. At the other end of the tunnel is another portal, leading back to the course observation booth.

If you fail: your character is KO'd, but there's always a senior hunter in the observation booth with enhanced bandages at the ready. They should reach you in time. Really. Trained and trusty professionals on-hand 24/7.

If you win: peen points and bragging rights to those who take out the greatest number of shadowlings and go the most turns without needing to attempt a recovery maneuver.

Mechanics

• You must get through 5 waves of attacks to make it through the tunnel.
  
• Simply roll for attack as you would in battle.
  
• If you miss, your character falters in their attacking and is overwhelmed by shadowlings.
  
• After 3 successful hits, you may use your weapon's charge attack.
  
  Bonus Mechanics
  
• This bonus is consumable.
  
• The bonus in this course is in the form of "recoveries" ~ these are would-be missed attacks that are quickly recovered and turned into a successful hit. Basically, they can miss once and roll again for an extra try. If you keep consecutively missing, though, and run out of recoveries, it's lights out. These do not equal an automatic pass for a round, you still have to land a successful hit to proceed.
  

"Hi," Noah said. "I'm cleared on bandages but I have some, um, trouble with some of the other courses." He fidgeted a little, looked at the cigarette, visibly decided not to say anything about it, said instead, "Laz likes when we fight things but we're not always, um, we're not always super good at it."

"You could write insults on their faces backwards so when they look in the mirror they can read it right away," Noah offered. He hesitated just a moment at the quip, then returned, "Oh, sure, go ahead then." In spite of the sass, he was a bit tense, shoulders held tautly.

Noah breathed a silent sigh of relief, unwinding like a dog that had been expecting a kick and not gotten it. He followed Leslie into the course, summoning Laz as he did and watching intently as Leslie summoned and smashed his way through the first surge of shadowlings.

The shadowlings scattered before his swipe, then regrouped to swarm up his legs and body. His last thought before being dragged to the ground was how embarrassing this was.

Noah accepted the hand up, not meeting Leslie's eyes. "Sorry," he mumbled, "I just, okay, I'll try." The shadowlings were starting to mass around and in front of them again, and Noah gripped Laz's handle tightly and tried to reach out with his mind for what the weapon wanted.

BITE THEM, Laz bubbled, and Noah tasted something like metal on his tongue, a taste that wasn't physically present but was no less strong for it. He moved ahead into the tunnel and swiped blindly at the gathering shadowlings, and this time he felt Laz's blade graze, sink briefly into something dark that shredded away under the cleaver's edge. "I got some -- "

There was a slightly unnerving look in Leslie's eyes, but he was doing a heck of a lot better cutting down shadowlings than Noah was. Maybe his advice would help. Noah mentally fumbled along the line of connection between himself and Lazarus, the taut thin path that he usually thought of as a leash, and stretched his consciousness out to touch the weapon's.

Laz growled softly, and for a moment, the zombie dog's presence went tense and impenetrable. Then it suddenly softened, and Noah's questing thoughts plunged through an intangible barrier with a bursting sensation, sinking into a soft, strange resistance, a presence red and bone-white and dripping with something sharp and black. The disorienting feeling of being within Laz's thoughts was accompanied by a hurricane roar of hunger, of anger, of aggression, by the sharp metal taste of blood in his mouth and a palpable wanting ache in his teeth, an overwhelming urge to sink his teeth into something yielding and tear, bite, eat --

Noah ripped himself away from his weapon's thoughts with a sharp and strangled noise, shoving Laz back to a safe distance with a force that made him physically stagger. He registered dimly, disoriented and deeply unsettled, that he was being swarmed again, and he lashed out blindly, hitting nothing.