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Chronicles of Valore

The Shimmering Isle

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a part of Chronicles of Valore, by Tiko.

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RolePlayGateway holds sovereignty over The Shimmering Isle, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

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The Shimmering Isle

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Minimap

The Shimmering Isle is a part of Pelenus.

2 Places in The Shimmering Isle:

4 Characters Here

Klo [7] Sometimes their bite is worse than their bark.
Ira Viarel [5] A member of the Avorian royal family, though far from the most respected of his relatives. Down-to-earth, strong-willed and independent, Ira does his best to avoid associating with the elitist nobility who scorn him.
Delilah [3] "There's only one way, darling. My way.."

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2 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Klo Character Portrait: Adriaan Kavaki
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#, as written by Tiko
(Post written by quizzicallyquixoticand Tiko)

ImageIt was pushing late morning when the pair were forced to hole up. The shelter wasn't much, just a scraggly thicket in which some of the bristly plants had been lain over top of it to provide a mediocre of shade from the glaring sun. It would afford only marginal relief from the heat, but there was room enough beneath it for the pair to lay out the worst of the day. With barren landscape all around for as far as the eye could see, they were fortunate to have found even this scant refuge.
ImageAdriaan seemed oblivious to the rising temperature as he lay sprawled comfortably on his back beneath the thicket with his arms folded behind his head. He would have liked to have pushed on further, but even with his rich sun-tanned skin, his pointed lack of a shirt left him far more susceptible to the adverse affects of the afternoon heat. Common sense dictated they should catch a few hours sleep and wait until evening to move on.
ImageHe had very little space to himself beneath the thicket. Almost none, for that matter- despite that the fey had not spoken another word since she had first come crawling out of the gorge and had mostly treated the avorian with indifference, she was all but tucked into his side in those moments. Even the morning travel had turned her skin from pale ivory to a slight flush of pink. Out in the sunlight, all the things that the darkness of the mines hid were revealed. The gashes on her shoulder blades that marked where wings had been showed infection, and her bones were all too prominent, giving the delicate creature an almost jagged appearance. A gaunt cheek rested on the male's torso, and the bloody stubs where her nails had been curled against his tanned skin. It would probably get too hot for the closeness, soon. Not that it mattered much. She had claimed that spot curled against him, and it was unlikely that she was going to move until she was uncomfortable herself.
ImageAdriaan shifted his head to look down at the girl splayed across his torso. It was hardly the first time he had been curled up in a thicket with a strange woman whose name he didn't even know, but admittedly this was the first time under such awkward circumstances.
Image“So, what's your name anyways?” he finally asked by way of engaging the woman in conversation. Typically a jovial and light-hearted individual, the perpetual silence of his companion was simply not in the cheery avorian's nature. He couldn't do much for the girl's physical state way out here, but conversation seemed a harmless enough way to pass the time.
ImageConversation, conversation. Klo was terrible at conversation. Maybe that was why she had kept to Dagon's company. Dagon. Her features were placidly blank in those moments after she'd been asked her name, and slowly she shifted her hand at an angle and used her fingers to 'walk' across the avorian's chest. They stopped just where he might be able to see them, and her thumb curled up so that the tip of the digit could rest against the knuckle of her index finger- almost reminiscent of a hand being placed on a hip. She couldn't quite mimic a curtsy with just those three fingers, but she certainly tried.
Image"Klo."
ImageStill, Klo did not shift much more from her position except to walk her hand about on his torso.
Image“Klo, huh? I'm Adriaan, if you didn't remember. You seemed a bit out of sorts last night,” Adriaan replied. Glancing down at the girl once more, he couldn't help but shift uncomfortably. Even in Klo's current physical state it was a bit hard to overlook that there was a woman pressed up against him with her fingers dancing across his bare chest. “Ah... maybe you shouldn't do that,” he proffered while reaching to gently move her hand. Hesitating a moment he instead moved past her hand to brush the tips of his fingers against her cheek. Beneath the grime and blood, she looked like she would clean up well with a bit of food.
ImageIt was perfectly alright for her to touch as much as she wanted, but when he tried to do the same, the body nestled against his went rigid. It only took the first beat of fingers brushing against her sunken in cheek before she moved again. Quick as a snake strike, teeth sharpened, and burrowed into the flesh between his palm and thumb. The sound that escaped her was a blend between snarl and hiss, itself, and she was all but throwing herself back and into a crouch a distance away as though expecting retaliation. Of course, there was the poison seeping through his veins now, too.
ImageAdriaan cursed as he jerked his hand back and sat up. “Damn girl, you could have just said something!” His short outburst of anger was more in response to the pain than directed at Klo, but he regretted it immediately. There was no telling what the woman had been through. He would have put the whole matter behind him if not for the sudden dawning realization that a painful paralysis was stealing over his arm. “Aw, you have got to be kidding me.” Already his skin was growing flushed with beads of sweat breaking out upon his forehead.
ImageKlo offered no apologies for her actions. She watched him, bristled like a cornered animal. Her face had no expression, only the open mouthed, bloodstained and sharpened teeth that she exhaled through. She had no reason to believe he would not die from her bite, yet she kept her distance from him until it was clear he wouldn't be trying to retaliate. It was only then that she relaxed and folded her legs beneath her, but she did not run off to leave him as instinct demanded she do. Instead, she sat nearby, almost demurely studying him. If it were even the slightest twinge of regret keeping her there, the fey would not admit to it. But she stayed all the same.
ImageThe venom was swift and brutal, wrecking havoc on Adriaan's nervous system in its efficient pursuit of his heart. The rapid palpitations left him short of breath and the painful muscle contractions in his arm doubled him over with a grunt of pain. Bleary eyed he scanned the area for the woman who had bit him, but his vision was hazy and she was little more than a blurry splash of color. His uninjured hand grasped about blindly for something to gain purchase on as if he intended to rise, but a moment later he simply slumped back into the hot sand, his breath growing rapid and shallow as the desert faded from his awareness.
ImageHe had the same gold green veining extending from the bite wound just as any of Klo's other victims had. Unlike with the others, the creature did not immediately run away when he lost consciousness. The violet depths of her eyes remained touching on his form long after he had slumped to the sands, face composed and calm despite the sight he made. As long as he continued to breathe, she stayed, even when the sun had finally reached the point to allow travel again.

2 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Klo Character Portrait: Adriaan Kavaki
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#, as written by Tiko
(Post written by quizzicallyquixoticand Tiko)

ImageIt was pushing dusk by the time Adriaan's labored breathing grew stronger, and the sickly green coloration faded from his veins. Blinking bleary eyes, the avorian sat up with a wince. The wound on his hand had clotted, but sand and grit were embedded into the torn flesh. It would need to be cleaned, but he couldn't do much for the injury out here.
Image“Still here, huh?” he asked as he took note of Klo's watchful presence. He felt groggy, and somewhat lethargic. “Ugh, I feel like I slept in a den of vipers.” Laying back in the sand he threw an arm over his eyes.
ImageKlo had not moved even a hair's length from where she had begun her watchful vigil. The violet darkness that flooded her eyes never strayed from the avorian's wounded form, ever watchful for the moment when his breathing might stop. A moment that never came. A delicately arched brow furrowed, then rose in surprise when he'd managed to sit up. His words were met only with a blank expression, and the fey gave him no vocal response. Nor.. did she close the distance between them. She wouldn't risk being touched again, it seemed.
ImageThe creature pushed herself to her feet and stared. It was late enough already, and they had made no progress through the day. Her own fault, really, but the way she looked at him and toward the horizon it was evident she wanted to be on her way.
ImageAdriaan cast Klo a sidelong glance from beneath his arm, arching a brow at her seeming insistance to move on. Groaning he pushed himself back up. Women, they would be the death of him yet. “Alright, just give me a moment,” he mumbled.
ImageHis head throbbed dully as he stripped his sash from his waist and wound it about his injured hand. “At this rate, I'm not going to have any clothes left by the time we get to Volary...” he remarked with a low chuckle. Picking up one of his gauntlets, he shook them out, causing sand and a small scorpion to fall free. “Yeah, I think I've had quite enough of that for a day,” he muttered as the venomous arachnid crept off in search of a new hiding place. Replacing his gauntlets he dragged himself to his feet and shook the sand from his wings.
ImageIt might not have truly been possible for her to give him any flatter look than she'd already had. For the clothes comment, though, she most certainly tried. Her fingers lowered to pluck at the rags she wore, only to pinch them roughly between her thumb and index finger to shake the torn length of it in his direction. That movement alone set his prayer beads dancing on her chest where they hung and lowering her focus toward them, the fey offered up.. what might have been a smirk. She gave the beads a twirl around her index finger when next he looked, ignoring the movement of his wings.
ImageThere was a twinge of jealously that she did not bother to hide in the sudden darkness of her expression. It made her shoulder blades ache and her all the more aware of her wrong, weighty size. But no use crying, she supposed. Her tears had dried in the voyage over.
Image"Volary." Her head shook. "Maradar."
Image“I don't know where Maradar is. Volary is the closest place that's safe for you. Besides, we can't really go traipsing through the desert like this, eh?” he asked with a wry grin.
ImageKlo looked very much like a child denied the prize she had wanted, and her cheeks puffed out in a breath before she released it and dropped her arms. She didn't need to say it. It was written all over her face: Fine.

3 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Klo Character Portrait: Ira Viarel Character Portrait: Adriaan Kavaki
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#, as written by Script
(Post written by Tiko, quizzicallyquixoticand Script)

Out in the vast sandy expanses of the Shimmering Isle, a small campfire burned away, offering warmth from the chill night air. The pair of fugitives had taken shelter for the night near some abandoned mines west of Volary. Natural caves dotted the mountain range, interwoven with networks of abandoned mining tunnels that had been long since plundered of their natural resources.

The mouth of the cave opened to the desert beyond and the dim glow of their campfire could been seen from afar. It would have been safer to go without the fire, but Adriaan wasn't about to suggest they bed down together to conserve body heat against the soon to be icy temperatures. Over the fire a small desert rabbit was roasting on a spit, filling the enclosed space with its aroma.

“So, tell me about this Maradar place you want to get to?” he asked Klo. The woman was being as quiet as ever, but Adriaan never lacked for effort in attempting to break the long silences.

Klo glanced up from her focus on the dagger she held. She hadn't let it go yet since they had made their way out of the avorian city, and the crystals that formed on the blade had only begun to multiply and coat it further. Her lips parted and for a heartbeat she looked as though she were going to answer, but as expected, by now, they sealed closed again. He deserved a warning, if he were really planning on playing her knight the entire trip.

But.. the city itself did not matter. Dagon was there. Her fingers clamped down a little more tightly on the poison encrusted hilt. Dagon was there and that was what mattered.

"Maradar.." The words came soft and hoarse. "Humans need not.. fight.. scrounge.. struggle.. Guards will only cart -us- away to death.. and darkness.. and sometimes worse.." And she hated them all for tearing her flight and the one person that mattered from her. Fangs that had sharpened behind her lips through that speech clamped down and she pulled her gaze back to the fire.

“Huh. Seems like it's not exactly the best place to be. Why are you wanting to get back there, if it's so bad?” Adriaan asked whimsically. “There's some coteries out west. They're loyal to the Queen, but it's unlikely word would have reached that far. We could head that way, find a safe place for you until the northerners give up trying to find you. Or you know, maybe longer. My people may not be perfect, but from what I've seen, and from what you tell me, they're a fair lot better than where you're looking to head.”

"A promise."

That was the answer she would give him. He would have to accept that much from her, before the fey fell into silence again. She would not go elsewhere, but the expression that shifted back to him was questioning. Would he go, knowing the persecution that waited any kind other than humanity?

Whatever Adriaan's response to that might have been was left unspoken, as the familiar sound of beating wings became audible from outside the cave. Looking out, a figure was visible descending towards the fire's glow. He held a glaive in his hand, and it was just possible to make out the outline of a bow on his back as he descended. He landed softly a short distance from the cave, folding his wings and looking inwards at the figures within. "If you were looking to avoid detection, I would have advised avoiding such an obvious fire. I saw you from at least a mile away," he called, stepping forwards a few paces to bring his features into the light, "I'm here for Adriaan. Queen's orders."

“Hey, you try touching her,” Adriaan replied with a nod of his head towards Klo, “Then see if you would have gone with a more practical means of keeping warm,” Adriaan remarked with a wry grin. “And I'm Adriaan, but if you're looking to drag me back to Volary, it's not happening. The girl wouldn't last three days out here by herself.” He glanced past Ira, expecting more men, but when none came he raised a brow questioningly.

Adriaan earned himself a glare, then, but her features almost immediately receded to the passive mask that had become the norm. Her fingers curled all the more tightly around the dagger, and steadily she pushed herself to her feet. Adriaan was no Dagon, but he was hers. That alone was cause enough for her to place herself between the two avorians, if only so that she could glower a bristled warning to the one that had come for him.

"I'll pass," the new arrival said, "And I'll have to disappoint you on the second front too. I can't just take no for an answer, turn around and go back. You can imagine her majesty would be far from pleased with that. It's nothing personal, really, I've no love for the humans myself but I honestly think you'd rather be found by me than by them." Leaning to the side on his glaive, the man glanced over his shoulder, "They're following you, you know, still. I can't say I like your chances given their resources put against yours. Is there to be no persuading you to leave the girl and return to Valory for a slap on the wrist as opposed to a horrible and painful punishment exacted by your pursuers?"

“Afraid not, I'll take my chances out here with the girl. At least I have a chance, she doesn't if those men find her. You haven't seen what they do to people out there. Besides, the Queen would have sent more men if she was too serious about wanting me back,” Adriaan remarked with a lopsided grin.

Klo only watched, tension creeping into her form all over again.

"Heh," the man smirked, "I imagine the Queen doesn't much care whether I succeed or not, but I wouldn't be doing myself any favours by coming back having given up when you said 'no'. I'm royally expendable, you see, and I mean that literally. Sent to appease the humans because I have a fancy title, but no big deal if the outlaw gets the better of me. My name is Ira. You've probably heard enough of me to get some context." Stepping forwards again, Ira drummed his fingers against the haft of his glaive, "We appear to have reached an impasse that, sadly, I can only see ending one way."

Moving up beside Klo, Adriaan gave her a wink. “Ease up there. There's no need for any of that. You can be kind of... well, fatal,” he said with a chuckle. “I don't think that's going to be necessary to settle this.” Interlacing his fingers, Adriaan gave his knuckles a crack. “Isn't that right?” he asked Ira. Adriaan like most, knew Ira by his unusual reputation, but as a monk he knew Ira for his martial prowess more than anything. “Shall we?” he asked. His remarkable sense of joviality had hardly been dampened by the situation, and he was as cheery as ever.

"Fatal is simpler." And the fey stepped back and out of the way to watch.

Ira nodded his head, readying his glaive and moving forwards, "If I didn't have some idea of who you were," he said, "I'd feel bad about going against you armed. As it is, I feel it somewhat evens the playing field. I'll try and avoid stabbing anywhere important."

“Important, eh? Well, if my sister's words are anything to weigh, best aim for the head,” Adriaan retorted as he stanced off.

Though he smirked, Ira didn't wait for Adriaan to finish speaking before he was in motion. A burst of force propelled him towards the monk like a blur, his glaive slashing for the other's legs in an attempt to sweep them out from under him.

Skipping back, Adriaan nimbly evaded the sweep of the glaive, but Ira's aggressive momentum swiftly narrowed the gap. Propelling himself backwards, Adriaan aimed to leap clear of Ira's reach.

Using the momentum of his strike to keep moving forwards, Ira spun with his weapon, leaping forward a step before slashing downwards at the edge of his range with an attack at Adriaan's torso.

Aiming to get inside Ira's reach, Adriaan raised his gauntlet up up to catch the glaive against his forearm, but as metal struck metal, a pulse of force burst from the contact point to deflect his arm. Skidding back, dirt and rock were kicked up as Adriaan dug his feet in. Thrust his arm up he shoved the Glaive high, and with a powerful stroke of his wings, Adriaan swiftly propelled him forward to meet Ira head on.

With his weapon shoved aside, Ira hastily stepped backwards to regain his stance, regaining a solid grip just as Adriaan charged. With the distance too low to get his glaive into position, Ira instead mimicked Adriaan's tactic of using his wings to propel himself backwards, landing solidly before thrusting the tip of the weapon forwards for the other man's upper leg.

The weapon sliced cloth as Adriaan twisted aside with a shift of his wings that carried him past Ira. Regaining his footing, he wheeled about to face off against Ira once more, hands at ready. With Ira's initial momentum gone, the playing field was leveling out.

Rather than moving in to strike again, Ira instead pulled backwards, eyes narrowing with focus before launching a jab of force aimed to upset Adriaan's balance enough to make his footing unsteady.

Acting upon instinct and intuition, Adriaan drew his arms and crossed his gauntlets. Braced for the impact, the pulse slid him back, but his balance was impeccable.

Noting the monk's retained steadiness, Ira reconsidered his next move. Another burst of force shot for the man's side, then another to his front again, and a third aimed for his legs. Each blast struck in quick concession, pushing Adriaan back along the rocky floor as he stood his ground, but ebven as the third strike was landing, Ira had launched himself forwards for a second time that fight, rocketing towards the man. This time, however, rather than ending the charge with a slash, it was with a blast of force aimed to catapult Adriaan from his feet entirely like a shoulder barge on steroids.

As Ira closed in upon Adriaan, the nimble monk twisted to the side, scarcely avoiding the charge by more than a hairsbreadth. Fluidly pivoting to follow Ira's movement, Adriaan caught the haft of the glaive, and used Ira's momentum to bring him close and throw him down to the ground on back.

Taken by surprise, Ira was pulled from his feet and over Adriaan's extended foot to land hard on the ground with a grunt. He knew that a grapple wasn't where he wanted to be, however, and during the fall brought his leg up to catch the monk's midsection with a foot as he jerked on the glaive they both held, throwing him over his head to free himself before he could be pinned, allowing him to regain his feet as the brawl continued underway.

Klo.. may very well have picked that rabbit from the spit to munch on as the fight proceeded. Nonfatal was boring too, but at least she was out of the way as she watched.

4 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Klo Character Portrait: Ira Viarel Character Portrait: Delilah Character Portrait: Adriaan Kavaki
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#, as written by Tiko
(Post written by Wraith, quizzicallyquixotic, Tiko, and Script)

ImageIra had not been the only one to notice that beacon of light across the desert night. The convoy of humans, small though it was, was closing the distance between themselves and the renegades during the course of that interaction. There had even been some measure of effort taken to ensure that their approach was not merely a frontal confrontation.
ImageRemaining in the shadows just beyond that ring of light, Delilah sat side saddle on the mare that danced under her, silent save for the soft nicker that escaped when the clash of that brawl began. Flanking her on either side, Jerod and another proficient officer sat at the ready with their swords drawn. Further afield, and closing in on foot from either side of the cave entrance, pairs of soldiers crept in, hopeful for the benifit that surprise might offer when the occupants came forth to impending summons. The remaining three of that band- one having already begun his solitary trek back to th mine camp, were engage in seeking some climbable trail that might lead to high ground, above the cave exit. A last line of defense or offense, if needed; even if every indication had been given that they were to expect a small group on the run.
Image"Well well well..." The purr came from the gloom somewhere beyond the fire light. "I like nothing so much as a good cock fight, myself.." Delilah's voice was all sugar and cream. "But I can't imagine that even your kind..should find it worth your while to lose your wings for one so useless to either of our worlds as a condemned slave." A press of her knee to the ribs of her mount, and Delilah was emerging into view of the grappling pair. "Hand the slave over, peacably, and I might be inclined to forget this little ..treachery, on the part of your..." her lips curled, "people..." A complete fabrication, of course. Delilah had every intention of making the arrogant miscreants pay for the defiance of even one of their kind for her cause.
ImageKlo was only distracted in picking the too cooked flesh off the bones of the rabbit. The violet pools of her gaze lifted, searching the darkness to find the source of that nicker. It was all she could do not to shriek. The rabbit fell to the cavern floor, and she shifted to a crouch near the flames. That woman.. Klo's head tilted, lips parting slightly to allow her breath to escape between the sharpened fangs. A human.. and one who meant to drag her back to that place. The fey might happily have her throat for that. The violet pools of her gaze shifted to the shadows within the cavern, as though seeking some way out. None but that entrance, and even with the roast so near her nose, she could smell that human stink all over. It was when that last word had escaped the human female's lips that Klo erupted into a furious shriek.
ImageNo human or many other creatures were capable of producing a sound like that. The fey's fingers curled into the fire pit, dragging free a hot stick from its prison to go flinging it, ash and all at that mare Delilah rode. She would take death over a return to those mines, and the fey, who was not much of one for words to begin with, burst into action in attempting to overtake the woman.
ImageKlo's shriek drew Adriaan's attention away from Ira, still caught mid grapple over the glaive. A moments assessment was all it took as he looked back to Ira, his expression saying it all. Whatever he saw upon Ira's face was confirmation enough for him and he released the weapon and swept after Klo. “Stay in the cave!” Adriaan hollered after her. Out in the open they would be swiftly surrounded, but the girl seemed well beyond the capacity for rationality.
ImageIra's eyes narrowed in response to the arrival of Delilah, and it didn't take him more than a few seconds to realise that the humans wouldn't care whether or not he was with their prisoner or against her at this point. Turning away from Adriaan to walk toward the cave entrance, the young Lord met Delilah's gaze with a raised eyebrow. "Your people are not known for their honour," he noted dryly, "I'll take my chances with your swords over your words."
ImageJerod didn't know what had made the sound, all he knew was that there was something nightmarish erupting from the entrance of the cave and that the mare under Delilah was rearing up onto her back legs with a whinnying scream of its own, as fire and death seemed to approach. Without thought the captain was charging to enact his role as guardian, and a kick to his stallion's ribs had the horse charging into the gap between the woman and the slave. "Get back! M'Lady!" His shout echoed that of Adriaan, and sword drawn he was bearing down on what the light revealed to be little more than a golden girl.
ImageDelilah was fighting her horse, pulling hard on its bit as she attempted to twist the mare to the ground again. The riding spurs in her boot heels bit into the animal's sleek hide, into scarred spots where the cruel instruments were used to striking. The woman only cared for the comfort of her mount, when it was co-operative. Fury burned in her eyes. "What are you waiting for, fools..Get them! Get them all!" Even if she wouldn't be the one charging into the fray.
ImageHow swift could the creature be without her flight? She had taken down a few guards on her own in that weakened state, and now with a few days rest and fed, she was closer to that strength she had once possessed. The guard's interference earned him a hiss of a feral creature, and like a child denied a toy, Klo threw a tantrum.
ImageThat tantrum involved her swiftly ducking around the feet of the mount, almost nightmarish in her own right for the speed at which inhuman legs could move. In the matter of a few well timed hops and grappling she had twisted herself onto the horse's back, and blunted though the dagger was, when she brought it down into the horse's flesh it pierced true. What damage the blade itself could not do, the poison coating it handled well enough, sending the horse bucking into a frenzy as the toxin worked its way through its body.
ImageJerod might have been next, had it not been for the horse throwing her roughly back to the ground. The unfortunate horse was not much more than a convulsing pile of flesh soon enough. Bruised and bloodied from scrapes and perhaps a stray sword swing, the fey was leaping to her feet again, unaware of the threat posed by the armed guard above until an arrow had come flying to blossom from the back of her shoulder like some macabre flower. In that state, the pain that might otherwise have stolen her breathe was pushed aside for the red mists of bloodlust. When that second rider came charging to the aid of his fellow, the sword he kept outstretched did little to save him. Before he'd the chance to dismount or swing, the fey was clambering upon him in a twist of white limbs and hissing fury, and he suffered more than one bite to his arm and neck before she dropped to the ground; pulling him along with her.

4 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Klo Character Portrait: Ira Viarel Character Portrait: Delilah Character Portrait: Adriaan Kavaki
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#, as written by Script
(Post written by Tiko, and Script)

Scarcely a wing beat behind Klo, Adriaan cleared the cave entrance, but was swiftly cut off as two men descended upon him, swords slashing viciously. The resounding clang of metal against metal split the air as Adriaan caught a blade against his gauntlet. Twisting about to contend with his own attackers, he could only hope Klo could handle herself.

As the fey girl charged, Ira watched her departure from the cave with a raised eyebrow - so much for the defenseless refugee he'd expected. He didn't have time to think on her ferocity for long, however, as the sound of footsteps came from his left. Turning sharply, he brought his glaive up to catch the falling sword of a soldier who had approached from the side of the cave. The metals clashed with a burst of force that knocked the man's sword arm up and away, leaving him reeling for balance. It was a balance he'd never regain, as Ira's glaive sliced brutally across his throat, dropping him like a ragdoll. A second man was given pause, staring with horror at his quickly dispatched companion, and Ira lifted his weapon to take him out similarly.

Meanwhile Adriaan was summarily handling his own attackers. Ducking the sweep of a sword, Adriaan twisted around behind the soldier, dropping him with a swift kick to the back of his knee. Fluidly disarming him, Adriaan tossed the sword up, catching it in reverse as it fell back down. Sweeping forward, Adriaan slammed the hilt of the sword into the nose of a second soldier, discarding it a moment later.

It was then that the arrow flew from overhead to hit Klo in the shoulder. Ira spared the girl hardly a thought for her safety, but recognised the threat of the archers' advantageous position. He knocked the man near him back with a pulse of force as he set eyes on them overhead, and with a sweeping beat of his wings lifted off, soaring into the air to soar around towards them. He closed on the first man who had fired the shot at Klo before he had a chance to reload, but the second was already taking aim. "Eyes this way, monk!" he yelled as the man prepared to fire.

The shout drew Adriaan's eyes skyward to spot the glint of a crossbow leveled at him. As the mechanism was released, Adriaan contorted his body to the side while leaning back. Deft movements left the arrow grasped within his gauntlet, scarcely a finger breadth from his shoulder.

In the same moment Adriaan was catching the arrow of the soldier, Ira was upon his companion, foot catching him in the face before he had his sword free of its scabbard. The man staggered backwards and landed hard on the rocky ground, finding Ira's glaive thrust through his chest before he could stand. The other archer had his sword drawn as Ira turned, slashing viciously towards his upper body. Ira caught the strike on the haft of his glaive, lifting a leg to kick the man in the stomach before he could recover from the parrying. The blow winded him, sending him staggering backwards before a single pulse of force from Ira toppled him over the edge of the ridge to fall the significant distance to the ground below. In chainmail armour, that was going to leave a mark.

Nodding his appreciation to Ira, Adriaan was caught off guard in his moment of distraction as the remaining soldier moved in, landing a raking slash down Adriaan's arm. Reflexively grasping the wound, Adriaan twisted away to re-stance off. To his side, the wounded soldiers were dragging themselves back to their feet. A swift roundhouse kick dropped one back to the ground, and with a sidestep, he evaded a bull-rushed tackle from the second. The soldier's momentum subsequently plowed him into remaining soldier at Adriaan's back. Stepping in, Adriaan pinned a sword to the ground under his foot. Raising his brow, he simply watched the two unarmed men scrambling back before they turned tail and fled into the desert.

2 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Klo Character Portrait: Delilah
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(Post written by quizzicallyquixoticand Wraith)

Klo's left nothing in her wake but corpses and dust. A horse, a dead soldier, and his mount charging off into the night. And where Jerod had escaped her venom before, he was not so fortunate then. Sword skill could do only so much when faced with the savage, feral thing that she could be. For each swing, she was dancing out of the way, whipping about hither and thither in a flow of blue silk and golden curls. Jerod was too well trained for the same, inevitable missteps that had been the end of those like him, and so the fey took matters into her own hands.

When that next swing came, she stepped into him, rather than off to the safety of the side, suffering both a new slice and the brutal bash of gauntlet against her form. In that rage, she was undeterred, and used only his own momentum to catch hold of him wherever her hands might manage the grasp. With that, the creature swung up and onto his back, sandaled feet anchoring her painfully into his ribs or whatever armor he wore that would not protect him. For all that earlier sentiment, he was not even granted the mercy of a swift death, and she tore into his cheek and deeper into his throat before he'd even had the chance to throw her off. She rolled, growling with the first painful contact of her injured shoulder against the ground, before she managed to fling herself back to her feet. By the time she righted herself, the guard had already fallen, and she touched her tongue to blood stained lips before near pitch black gaze had turned on the battle that had erupted around her. None of the sounds that escaped from her were anything something with normal vocal chords should be able to make, and yet she was all but screeching her frustrations, pacing and turning her eyes to the distance in search of that woman who had brought this mess to them in the first place. Her throat belonged to Klo.

Delilah was not unused to conflict... combat, blood and death. She was not, however, used to being on the losing end of that equation. It had taken but moments to rein in the fight of her mount after she had given her command, but it seemed that moments had been all that the winged mutants needed. Lips curled back from pearl white teeth that might not have gone misplaced with fangs, for the feral rage that was bared there and in the flashy ice of her moon washed irises in the fire lit shadows. They were falling around her like flies..or fleeing like the useless coward bastards that they were.

Delilah had never stayed to fight her own battles, once in her life. Her particular pleasure came from the fluttering of the helpless in the grip of her tyranny. When her targets showed resistance, there was not nearly the satisfaction involved. It didn’t take long to figure what the outcome would be. The death throes of Jerod’s horse only presaged what might be her own- and that mount was her only assurance of any hope of flight. There would be nothing so distasteful as falling into the hands of those she had set out to capture.

“Yaw!!..” Her cry lifted above the sounds of battle, as she bit spurs into the side of her horse again, and turned the mare’s nose toward the open desert. She had -some- sense of direction... and enough awareness to know that she was still days of riding away from guarded territory. Somewhere in her mind she sought only to find cover, there would be rocks and crags, ravines, somewhere if she could only ride fast and far enough.

The idea might have had merit, if her potential persuers had not had... well, wings.

Klo's vision was perhaps at its most useful at night, and whatever distance the human had managed to gain, she would not go unmissed. She paced forward and back like predator on that ridge, throwing her hands violently through the air, and making all manner of animal noises. The jarring pain from each movement of her shoulder that was only starting to grow as the heat of battle tempered, and the more she paced and breathed shuddering breaths, the more aware she was of the thing- as if that was all that was keeping her from chasing after the mount. It was why the shaft was ripped free and hurled to the ground, despite the excess damage to muscle and nerves it caused on the way out. She wasn't of a mind to care, yet.

She couldn't chase the human down. That was what mattered, and that might have been the reason violet eyes were searching furiously for the avorian who had played her guard up to this point. Not that she managed any more communication than another, unearthly shriek of a call that ripped through the air above the battle.

3 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Klo Character Portrait: Ira Viarel Character Portrait: Adriaan Kavaki
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#, as written by Tiko
(Post written by Script, Tiko, and quizzicallyquixotic)

Image"Well," Ira remarked as he descended from the ridge, "That could have gone better for them. A shame they'll probably declare war on us now. Always inconvenient." He sighed, absent-mindedly wiping his glaive off on the trouser-leg of one of the dead men. "Poor men were probably just doing their jobs. I doubt they expected that result. I feel more sorry for the horses though."
ImageAdriaan stooped down to roll an unconscious soldier over onto his back. “Eh, this one will live,” Adriaan remarked as he stood up and surveyed the battle zone. “I don't think we have to worry about war. If they could wage war on us, they would have done so long before now. No, the only ones at any real danger of reprisal are us.”
ImageKlo might have minded being ignored far less if she hadn't just made a demand. Spoiled thing that she was, the creature was all but stomping toward her Avorian ward, right into the midst of his conversation. She seemed to trip and stumble into a heap right atop that guard who would have made it. Her mouth had already parted to tear into the man's throat.
ImageAdriaan stooped quickly, hooking an arm around Klo's waist. “Whoa there,” he grunted as he hoisted her back and away from the fallen guard.
ImageWhat he hoisted back, and away was much less the reasonable girl that befitted the dress she wore, but a growling, hissing tangle of flailing limbs and gnashing teeth. He had his work cut out for himself, restraining her, but then.. all at once, she went slack.
ImageFine. She could try another way of having those demands met. "Human noble.. ships.. Maradar." That was reasonable, right? Or it might have come off sounding considerably more so, if she did not suddenly lash out in another effort to free herself from his hold. Adriaan was fortunate to be wearing those gauntlets, after all.
Image"Perhaps not," Ira mused, "But I can't imagine the Queen will be pleased if the humans start waving their sticks around angrily at her. As for personal reprisal, my offer does still stand. Valory's justice would be a lot less... permanent, I imagine." He looked down at Klo, raising an eyebrow, "But I've no care for forcing you to any more. Any hopes for avoiding a diplomatic incident were just dashed thoroughly. I can't say I know what you see in this one though. I'm surprised you haven't lost a finger yet."
ImageAdriaan wouldn't have lost a finger for lack of trying on Klo's part, it seemed, though amidst that fighting she managed to toss a flat look in Ira's direction.
Image“If you saw what they did to her, you would understand,” Adriaan remarked. “I don't suppose you could get that one out of here?” he asked with a nod of his head towards the unconscious man.
ImageIra leaned on his glaive, "The easy way, or the hard way?" he asked, "I suppose you're going to ask me to use the hard way. Well, fair enough. I'd feel bad putting him down at this point." Making his way over to the fallen man, Ira gripped the back of his armour, casting his eyes around to spot another cave area to use before dragging him off into the night.
ImageGingerly easing Klo back down to the ground, Adriaan released her warily.
ImageKlo shoved Adriaan. Or tried. She managed to land her hands on him before that twinge of a throb at her shoulder turned into a rocketing pain that ran through her arm for the motion. The sound that escaped sounded more like a scoff than anything else, though.
ImageAdriaan held his hands up defensively as Klo turned her anger on him. “I understand you're upset, but he wasn't a threat anymore.” Lowering his arms, the tension started to ease out of him. “Now come on, we should get those injuries looked at, alright?” he asked. He was still wary of the volatile fey creature, all the more so after witnessing what she was capable of.
ImageHer eyes flashed dangerously, and it was only after a long moment of her staring holes into him that the fey lowered her hands. "The one who ran.." Because she was so much more important than the creature right now, for what she could offer. "No time.. for this." Though the wound she had suffered and the pain she was growing increasingly more aware of might have had something to do with the shorter temper and attention, as well as the hoarse hiss of words she managed to let pass bloodied lips.
ImageAdriaan shook his head. “There's plenty of time. If you think she can help us get to Maradar, we'll pick up her trail in the morning. There's nothing but sand out that way, she won't get far. Besides, if we go traipsing through the desert with open wounds and no rest, we aren't going to be in any shape to catch up to her. Now are you going to sit down and let me have a look at those injuries or not?” Folding his arms over his chest, Adriaan looked about as stubborn as her for a change of pace.
ImageKlo evidentially wasn't used to not being listened to. The violet of her eyes remained settled on him, steady. She couldn't match his posture, for her injury, but the way she straightened to that full, unimpressive, and wrong height, was enough. She did not even give him an answer. Only stared hard, and kept her features set as unreadable as stone.
Image"You two look like you're getting along swimmingly," Ira commented as he strolled back into the glow of the cave's fire. "It's a wonder you made it this far, really. But as much as I'd love to stick around and see how things escalate from here, I suppose I ought to consider heading home to face the music." He sighed resignedly, "I'm sure my fair aunt will be delighted with the news that I had to kill a sortie of the people we were trying to please. The bright side is that it's probably only marginally worse an outcome than she expected."
ImageAdriaan cracked a grin at Ira. “You have no idea,” he remarked with amusement. “Anyways, it's too dark to travel far tonight, why don't you stay with us until morning?” Glancing over at Klo, Adriaan rubbed at his jaw thoughtfully. “Well, I can't make you let me look at those wounds, but I for one am going inside and getting something to eat. If you change your mind, let me know, eh?”
ImageIra was briefly under the heat of her stare. Briefly. An instant later she was scowling after Adriaan, and stamping her foot. Useless. Clearly, everything he had done for her thus far could be forgotten in the wake of being denied a chase.
Image"Plenty to eat out here.." She threatened, huskily, and motioned to the bodies with her good arm. True or not, she was evidentally refusing the temptation of a meal... For now.
ImageIra gave Klo a sidelong glance, "I'll sleep easy knowing I'm in such ... respectable company." he murmured, shaking his head. "But you're right. As much as flying into something would give me a convenient excuse not to go back, it might impede my living in other ways. Such as the part that involves 'living'."
ImageMaking his way back to the fire, Adriaan was met with the unfortunate discovery that there appeared to be nothing left of the rabbit but bits of bone. Picking up one he glanced at it and discarded it to the side with a sigh. This woman was going to be the end of him. “Well, so much for that. I don't suppose you have any food on you, eh?” he asked Ira with a sidelong glance and an arch of his brow.
ImageKlo, meanwhile, sat cross-legged outside the entrance of the cave, right next to Jerod's body. She wasn't hungry enough to eat him, really, nor did she particularly favor the taste of human. But.. She stared at the corpse for a long, long moment, and finally pushed to her feet. Fine.
Image"Thing." Adriaan had lost his name. "Fix." Not that she was making her way in to meet him for said fixing.
Image"I've not got much," Ira said as he walked into the cave, "Since I was hoping to be back within the day. But I have something to tide us over till morning." He pulled a package of jerky from his back and tossed a piece over to Adriaan, "If you were expecting some sort of royal travelling delicacy, you're talking to the wrong royal. I've some dried fruit here also, to liven things up. Positively a feast."

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Character Portrait: Ira Viarel Character Portrait: Adriaan Kavaki
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#, as written by Script
(Post written by Script and Tiko)

Adriaan was seated near the cave entrance, tossing bits of dried kindling into the campfire. The flames had died down to a dull flicker, but the meager supply of fuel that had been scavenged from the nearby thickets was running short. The fire would soon be out, but dawn was only a few hours away. Rubbing his hands together against the chill night air, he cast a glance Klo's way, but fortunately she slumbered yet. Getting her wounds dressed had been a feat unto itself, and Adriaan had come out of it with more scrapes and bruises than he had gone in with. His own injury, a shallow gash down his arm, had been bound in strips of cloth. The tourniquet was rudimentary at best, but it would have to suffice until they reached more civilized regions.

Leaning against the cave wall a short distance inside, Ira had dozed only lightly since the battle. He didn't want the bleariness of recovering from heavy sleep if more soldiers came. He glanced over at Adriaan, leaning forwards. "So tell me," he began, "How is it you and her came to travel together? How did she become your charge, as it were?"

“Hm?” Adriaan asked as he glanced to Ira. “Oh, just chance really. If you saw what they do to people out there, you would understand,” Adriaan remarked. Folding his arms behind his head, he lay back on the rough ground. “There's an old saying, something about bad deeds going ignored. I don't really remember, but eh, if I left her there, I may as well be as barbaric as the northerner's.” Adriaan quirked a grin. “And what can I say, I'm a sucker for a woman in distress.”

Ira laughed, shaking his head. "I had a feeling this was a little more personal than 'the right thing to do'. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure any good man or woman in your position would have acted to help her, but you might want to be careful just how far you take that." He glanced at the sleeping fey girl, "She's far from your ordinary damsel in distress. Think more along the lines of a caged crag wolf. It wants to run, but if it's backed into a corner, throats will fly - and indiscriminately at that. Make sure you don't become collateral damage, or get yourself killed for her." He leaned back again, shrugging his shoulders, "I certainly can't see chasing after her ending well for you. I can only imagine what she considers 'romance', and it involves more violence than is healthy in my mind."

Adriaan scowled and waved a hand towards the cave entrance. “They made her the way she is. What would you suggest,” Adriaan asked with quirk of his brow. “Just turn her out into the desert to die for it?” Adriaan chuckled lowly and shook his head. “Besides, what other options are there? Back to Volary? There was a time when our people were more than a bunch of fops sitting high in their spires and letting the world pass them by. Far as I see it, the crimes of the northerner's are as much our own now, and it's about time people remember that. Looking the other way while this,” he paused with a wave of his hand towards Klo, “is going on at our doorstep?” Adriaan shook his head. “I would just as soon rather die with a clean conscience than go back there. Not that I intend to die at all,” he added with a wink.

Smiling faintly, Ira shook his head, "I wasn't suggesting you abandon the girl, merely that you keep your head about you. Don't let her appearance distract you from her nature, or push you into doing anything stupid. Men are doomed to no greater acts of foolhardiness than the ones driven by the desire to impress an object of their affection." Sighing, he gazed up at the roof of the cave, "I agree with you on the state of our people, though. Perhaps the coteries are less caught up in their courtrooms and politics to see what the world around them is coming to. Unscalable walls and veritable immunity to outside influence can create something of a ... distanced attitude toward what goes on beyond the city."

“We were headed that way, to the coteries out west, but the girl seems insistent on getting to a place called 'Maradar'. I figure I can see her that far, if I can sort out where it is. She seemed to think that woman from earlier could help. She can't have gotten far, it should be simple enough to fly her down come morning.” Yawning lightly, Adriaan glanced over to Ira. “You could come with us you know.”

Ira glanced down again, raising an eyebrow, "Join the outlaw and the fugitive as they forge recklessly deep into the heart of their enemies' territory?" he asked, chuckling.

“Why not?” Adriaan asked before quirking another grin. “You can't possibly tell me that life at Volary is more interesting than anything we're doing out here. And you for one didn't seem too thrilled to be heading back.

"As much as life in Volary is far from ideal, I can take heart in the fact that as much as I might be disliked, the Queen is yet to try to kill me. Going to Maradar as it stands seems to me nothing more than a suicide mission." Ira shook his head, "Do you have any idea what she hopes to accomplish?"

Adriaan's grin widened. “Not one bit. But suit yourself. I'm going to be heading out to look for that woman in an hour. If you change your mind, you know where to find me. For now I'm going to get some more sleep.”

Ira smirked, "Good luck," he murmured amusedly, shaking his head at the man's hopeless optimism.