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Snippet #2381205

located in White-walled Adelost, a part of Allevent, Realm of Caith, one of the many universes on RPG.

White-walled Adelost

White-walled Adelost

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Character Portrait: Lysandra Teraviel
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The night had been long, the elf remembered. Sure, there were probably inns in the city of Adelost that she could have probably found a room, but after what had happened in Barberry, she was still rather hesitant to trust herself to the whim of others, especially after what had happened merely a day eariler in the marketplace. She doubted that something as ludicrous as the familiar of another selde taure tearing another hole in these new robes; still, there was something about the sheer absurdity of the situation that caused her hesitance.

What was that old human saying? "Lightning never strikes twice"? Well, they had never met someone that could shoot lightning from their fingertips. There was something out that phrase that should have brought a bit of a smile to her face, but for some reason she found little comfort in that bit of human wisdom. She knew it was wrong, anyway--it was an extremely rare occurence, but she had seen in twice in her extended lifetime.

Shaking the thoughts from her mind, she gathered in what courage she could find within herself and began to walk through the gates of Adelost. White-walled Adelost--the inhabitants nicknamed the city this for its ivory-colored walls that kept out most unwelcome intruders--was slightly smaller than Barberry but still large enough to be a decent-sized city. The people of Adelost were somewhat welcoming to most outsiders, although most outsiders usually did not include elves or any of the more exotic races that roamed the lands of Allevent. Still, the red-robed elf managed to somehow blend into the crowd and walk into the heart of the city with little problem.

So far so good... Now just hope that there aren't any more of those foxes that come to expose what's underneath the sleeve...

The main marketplace was busy for the morning, but it was nothing compared to the hustle and bustle of the crowds in Barberry. Regardless of how much smaller the throngs of people in this city were in comparison to the other one, there were still hordes of passersby that would potentially be curious as to why an elf would wander so far away from her home. This sort of thing was what she was afraid of--people poking their noses into business in which they did not belong. That was one of the things about humans that she did not particularly care for very much.

She sighed as she found a posting board with all sorts of advertisements and notices. Things about having competitions and tournaments were also rather popular, it seemed, as there were a few younger humans that were discussing an upcoming archery competition. As the elf studied the notice board for anything related to a potential opening at the archives, one of the young men--obviously the leader of their trio--let out a low whistle.'

"Oi, dat's a noice bow y'got dere, ma'am," the de facto leader commented. "Wif somefin' like dat, bet'cha could run th'others out'f th'competition!"

Caught off-guard by the comment--and not quite sure if it was sincere--the elf merely glanced over and nodded to the group before turning back to the board, studying the fliers intently until she came across one that she was hoping to find--

"Y'know, Ah don' fink we've ever seen a knifey compete in one'f these tournaments before... Dey's too proud'n snobbish fer us..." another of the group commented, looking toward the leader.

"An' you'd be roight, Reg..." the leader turned back to the elf, who was doing her best to ignore their presence next to her. "If y'ain't here to compete but'cha brought a bow into da city, Ah fink da only fing you can do is sell yer weapon t'us. How much?"

So they were con men after all. Picking on some lonesome traveller for kicks. Perhaps there was not even to be a tournament after all; even if there was, there was still no reason for her to go out of her way to join it. This had too much sentimental value for her to be given away for coin--if there was even any to be had--and she was not about to entrust a weapon of this magnitude of craftsmanship to a random stranger on the street.

"It's not for sale," the elf replied simply but assuredly, finding the information that she needed. There was indeed someone looking for assistance at the Archives; a certain Ambrosia character was looking for someone to assist him with bookkeeping and book sorting. This was exactly the sort of low-key low-labor work she was hoping to find. It might take a week or two to finally have enough money to pay back that Xioban girl, but she was going to try and get that business taken care of before anything else.

The leader of the group chuckled as his other two men walked around behind the elf. "Sorry, but yer not walkin' away 'til we've got'cher bow." With that, the men behind her grabbed her arms, hoping to hold her back as they took her weapon with ease. However, the man to her right grabbed on to something unexpected.

"Damn!" the lackey known as Reg screamed as he looked down to his hands to find that there were a few splotches of blood forming in his hands. The elf struggled underneath the strength of the man on her left, but the leader was too busy looking at his other man's wounds to pay too much attention. "She's got somefin' sharp underneaf dem robes!"

"Sharp? She's not made of metal, you dunce! Lemme see!" the leader smacked her over the head as the elf's eyes widened in fear. That lackey had felt something! Now his leader was going to try and figure out what was happening!? This was just as bad as the day before, except this time she knew for a fact that someone knew that there was something different about her. She began to thrash around in the man's grasp, hoping to run away before things escalated further.

"Now now, we don' hafta do dis da hard way, ma'am--y'can give us yer bow an' be on yer merry way, or we can take it from you! Looks like it might be worf somefin' after all--maybe along wif whatever ya got under yer sleef..."

What happened next was performed out of sheer panic.

Out of nowhere, the leader of the thugs was thrown back by a bolt of electricity that struck him square in the chest. The sudden strike was almost too much for the leader and he collapsed in a heap on the ground, a hole through his clothes and a burn mark square in his chest.

"What the hell was that?" the thug with a hold on her arm shouted as he dropped the poor elf onto the ground and ran after his fallen leader. Reg also knelt down at his leader's side, trying to do everything in his mind that he could think of to resusitate his leader. Bystanders were crowding around the fallen thug, trying to comprehend what had happened to the man.

In all of this confusion, miraculously, no one bothered to look toward the elf that had managed to blend in with a passing crowd. She was nervous--she had every right to be, she felt. Not only did those men try to assault her, but they knew there was something wrong with her! This knowledge only fell on the wayside when she realized that there was a light shining from inside her sleeve onto her feet. This was accompanied by a slight tingling sensation as she attempted to try and dim the light as quickly as possible.

Please let no one have seen that light... They can have the lightning, but please not the light that's coming from my sleeve...

Why are you even walking in the crowd if you're afraid that people are going to see you?

It's better than having to stick around and explain why I was forced to shoot a bolt of lightning into that man's chest and having to deal with his cronies...

But if they manage to find you and turn you in to the authorities, then what happens? You have no money, you have no job opportunity, you are sent to a cell and examined--

If I'm on the move now, I'll have an opportunity to continue moving and find the archive...

But if they see your arm and the light--

Why do I constantly argue with myself in these situations?


After trying to calm herself down for a few minutes and receiving a few strange looks from passersby about her facial reactions to seemingly nothing, the elf came to a large structure with large columns and a few academic-types wandering within from what little light in the doorway she could find. She broke free from the crowd and hurried inside, quickly glancing behind to make sure that the thugs were not trying to follow her. By this time, the light had faded from her sleeve, but she still felt that tingling across her right arm, almost like static electricity in the air...

The elf was greeted with hundreds upon hundreds of rows of books, much like she had been in Barberry's Imperial Archive. People were searching the shelves for any and all sorts of tomes that may help them with their research--perhaps in her downtime, the elf would join them in their pursuits of knowledge, but for now, she narrowly escaped arrest and interrogation. She finally arrived where she wanted to be, albeit with more plaguing her mind than she was comfortable with. After a minute of catching her breath and regaining her composure, the elf walked over to a side desk where an elderly human sat filling out some paperwork.

"...excuse me, ma'am?" The elf interrupted the woman's work after finally finding her voice and speaking softly.

The human looked up with a small smile on her face. "What can I help you with?"

"...I'm here to talk with... Ambrosia... Yes, Ambrosia, about the job opening?" the elf was very cautious, trying to keep calm but feeling ready to explode and shoot lightning in all directions. The woman was not saying anything about it, though--either she was being polite or the elf appeared much more stoic than she felt.

"Oh, yes, the flier... Please, take a seat over here, miss, and I'll let him know that he has someone interested for the job." She stood up from her seat. "One minute, please..." With that, the old woman walked away from the desk toward the back of the archive, leaving the elf to dwell on her thoughts of the events of the past few minutes.

News travels quickly in a city like this, so how long would it take for this Ambrosia character to hear about the events that took place in the market? About the elf that zapped some poor human in the chest with a lightning bolt and then ran off? She shuddered as she waited, putting her head in her hands and doing her best to keep her composure in spite of the circumstances in which she found herself. If the woman or her boss, however, came out to see her crying and acting shy, though, they might dismiss her on the spot...

...or would they just not hire her for being an elf? That elf from the market?

"Miss, mister Ambrosia will see you now. Please follow me."

The older woman gave a smile and nodded in the elf's direction. She had no choice now but to see this through to the end. The elf silently pleaded to whatever deities that may or may not exist that everything that could potentially go horribly wrong did not.