The Realm of Araylah » Places

Places in The Realm of Araylah

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This is a list of locations that can be found in The Realm of Araylah.

All Places

1 posts · 1 characters present · last post 2018-02-23 10:36:05 »

The Elkwood loomed into sight almost half an hour's ride in the distance. Integra was mildly impressed by the small hunting village's windmill. It hadn't existed when he left Blackhart, and usually such building weren't erected so fast. He led a small contingent of Red Ravens, it was a quieter mission, after all. Cantata wasn't with him, which left an ache in his heart. He was here to quietly ensure the village's loyalty, they regarded him as a legend of sorts. Blackhart was no longer a town, lost to some sort of calamity he hadn't bothered to avail himself to. Though, longer-lived Elkwooders hadn't forgotten him. More than a few elders approached him, and he had to quietly send them away with a gracious smile. He was here to play a Cadence that would set up Cantata; and thus could not be interrupted.

The Elkwood was small enough, and when their local champion approached, Integra found himself barely able to contain his giddiness. The man before him was barely a hunter, having contented himself to hunting... deer. His entire life, barely unable to contain himself, Cantata's devotee practically frothed at the mouth. The doe-hunter threw himself at Integra, but in a whirl the wild-eyed youth threw himself swiftly aside, his broadsword screeching alongside the champion of Elkwood's blade. At the last second, the broadsword separated, coming down in a clean arc on the would-be defender's neck. A scarlet dye exploded up the devotee's arm and onto his face, falling through the air and cleanly onto the ground.

"How had it come to his?" Integra frowned as the city council cheered him on. The Elkwood was ready to give the Principality everything. This was not why he had come here, but he smiled nonetheless. "Perhaps Cantata would be proud..." He consoled himself with the thought as he sharpened and polished his blade. Hewing though neck vertebrae always dulled the gods damned blade, he had found. He tried a spell to sharpen it instead, but found his concentration shot. Thus, he repaired the blade manually, trying desperately to distance himself from the lives he stole that day. "It's always hard to think when she's gone..." He murmured to himself, running the sword along the whetstone.

His horse, of course, was a gift from Cantata. He'd never have bought one for himself, but she insisted. He had named his horse Soliloquy, because she was a silent whisper whereas Cantata was the song he had longed to hear his whole life. He had to admit.... The way the sword separated flesh in a charge was quite scintillating. He had even began mastering the skills of horseback archery, though he would always prefer simply blasting fire from his hand in a ride-by. The smell of burning flesh... It dominated his mind until he saw the figure in the distance...