Announcements: Universe of the Month! » Finding Universes to Join (and making yours more visible!) » Guide To Universes On RPG » Starter Locations & Prompts for Newbies » RPG Chat — the official app » USERNAME CHANGES » Suggestions & Requests: THE MASTER THREAD »

Latest Discussions: Impending Pursuit Q&A » Eudaimonia » Loot! » Natural Kinds » I have a funny idea » Life in the 21st century. » Song of the Runes » Plato’s Beard » Clues » Nihilism » Strange Tales From Hadean » Art Gulag [ Come get this Commish! ] » Visibility of Private Universes & Profile Customisation » Presuppositionalism » Aphantasia » Skill Trees - Good, Bad & Ugly » In-Game Gods & Gameplay Impact » Cunningham's Law » The Tribalism of Religion » Lost Library »

Players Wanted: Looking For A New Partner » Hellboy characters » 18+ Writing Partner [Fantasy, Romance, Etc.] » 18+, Multi-Para to Novella Writers please! » Looking for roleplayers » Fun tale full of angels, demons, and humans » Looking for roleplayers » A Fairytale World in Need of Heroes & Villains! » Are You a Crime Addict? » Wuxia RP » Looking for roleplayers » New Realistic Roleplay - Small World Life ٩( ´・ш・)و » Mentors Wanted » MV Recruiting Drive: sci-fi players wanted! » Veilbrand: The Revolution » Gonna do this anyway. » Looking for Kamen Rider Players » Elysium » Looking for roleplayers for a dystopian past! » Revamping Fantasy Adventure RPG, need new players »

0
followers
follow

Pyrian Fenris

Wolves hunt in packs, bringing down foes far stronger an individual. Yet the wolf that hunts alone must achieve the same by his own might or perish in the truth that he is at fault.

0 · 336 views · located in Perhaedian Empire

a character in “Perhaedian Empire”, as played by TemplarWarden

Description

Age: 25

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Class: Warrior/Mage/Ranger



Description: Cold metal chains drape from three piercings in each ear. His chaotic, messy hair is actually a silky ebony black. Tribal tattoos run down his arms, legs and back, generally concealed utilitarian dark and matted clothes that drape around his form to provide the most freedom and a semblence of camouflage. He has the elegant, sure, almost regal movements of a rightful leader. Fenris's lithe, muscled form moves with a hunter's grace and a number of scars mar his arms, back and chest. His brown eyes blend with his tanned and worn skin and can fix unflinchingly on a target.

Height: 6'0"

Weight: 201 lbs

Weapons: Surprisingly he wields a proper weapon. An elegantly designed short halberd/glaive, its blade and wood etched with what seems to be magical glyphs. However if it holds any magical capabilities he does not know. Of course the weapon is too large and obvious to be used where it could be spotted. Instead, hidden, he wears a single, more simple long sword stolen from the Emperor's men themselves.

Armor: He wears loose leather padding as a base layer, giving him as much flexibly as possible. Tucked beneath his loose clothing, intended to be used as both theatrical distractions and to trap lighter strikes, he also wears light metal plates, vambrances and leg guards. He places these so they can't intrude on his motion but still provide reasonable deflection in those specific areas.

Personality:
Pyrian is a quiet individual when not provoked. Self absorbed and isolated, usually he is quiet and reserved yet the thought of injustice drives him to anger and rash action. He despite any authority that considers itself stronger them the people. Knowing the Emperor's reign fits that description best and is undoubtedly corrupt and hates it with a passion. He holds the people of the land in mild contempt and suspicion until they prove themselves as righteous. They are weak, pitiful, not standing up to fight off the dark force destroying their lives. He does not fight for them, instead he fights to destroy the tools of the Emperor. A terrorist with little consideration for collateral damage, should his actions happen to assist the lives of the people then it is mostly coincidental. Condemnation comes easy and forgiveness, never. He believes that in time he could right the corruption coursing through the the land, alone, chipping away at the massive resources against him. Yet, despite the almost delusions he has much of the skills to bring it to fruition.

He is a skilled warrior. Relying on speed and strength over improvisation and fancy blade work, most of the time this is enough to overwhelm typical troops. This isn't the extent of his talents, he shares the magical capabilities of other Bel Harem academy students although without the finesse of many dedicated mages. Again brute strength is his method. His times in the wilds and hiding from soldiers hunting him in the wilds and the small towns has honed his stealth and survival skills. He can hunt, tend himself, set traps, forage, read trails and typically survive in the wilderness. Within a town or settlement he has learned how to hide himself and his impressive frame. He can move in shadows, silently and invisible to casual sight. This is a little piece of his history honed over the years.

History:
Pyrian began his life as a orphan, actually in the streets of the capital. It was a rough and difficult life but the reason he actually lived free of the empire's grip until the tender age of nine. Although it was hardly tender, life was a tough and vicious. Innocence did not last very long on the streets. His first memories are of the old woman who cared for him being beaten down for her last few belongings. Memories that burned into his mind. Yet the gang actually took him, seeing the value of yet another young tool underneath them. The didn't really count for the young boys tenacity and toughness. He rose in the ranks among the other children, not so much for words but conquering others with violence. The others nicknamed him many things, generally along the words of a lone wolf. It was an older contact who came up the name of Fenris, connecting it to mythical wolves in legend. The name stuck and he was somewhat known entity among the younger of the street kids.

That all came to an end with a soldier's raid on the gang's hideout. Some fought back and most died, Fenris was one of the few that survived. In the desperate fight to save his life he summoned up his hidden magic. A few soldiers ended up with severe burns by the time he was subdued. So began his life at the Bel Harem academy, he hated the first few years. They kept a tight leash on him due to his wild life. Eventually the loosened up, the training burned most of his violence. Despite his hate of authority. he enjoyed the constant challenges. His methods became more controlled and skilled, although it was only controlled release of a large reservoir of destructive power. He was not scholar and his favor of fire eventually got him the name Pyrian, adding to the relic of his childhood. Yet, all the training and indoctrination didn't hold in his mind. He loathes the restrains placed upon him, he longed to release hims power. Either alongside of against the soldiers or against them. He preferred the first, there was something in him that would rile against enforcing the law against those who could hardly resist. Morals someone at odds with his eagerness for violence.

It was during one of another students escape attempts that he managed to get free. The odd elf girl, he didn't really bother her. The others tormented her so much there was no purpose in testing himself against her, she would be weak from their peers. Taking the chance where he could he wasted no time in slipping quietly away as the attention was focused elsewhere. His old skills and contacts coming into play as he got out of the city as quickly as possibly. Heading off into the wild of the south, towards the black wastes. It was during this self imposed exile that he came to hate the Empire as an extension of his imprisonment. He even wandered into the wastes unintentionally, a single day and night that came as close to death as he had ever been since. Yet he had come away with a prize, the exotic glaive which quickly became his weapon of choice.

He despised the creatures of darkness that dwelt there, unfeeling beasts that had even less concern for the weak than the empire's troops. Also, they were more powerful than him and that he could not abide. The next few years he spent by the boarders of the cursed land. Hunting troops, servants of the empire and demonic beasts that roamed into his territory. Of course the rumors spread, but should they grow too prevalent he retreated into hiding again until word died down. Except the long reach of the empire wasn't so quick to forget. He became enough of a annoyance that a sizable force of hunters began to come the land, searching for him and forcing him to move further into the heart of the kingdom.

So begins...

Pyrian Fenris's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Pyrian Fenris
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Eight corpses scattered themselves around a flickering campfire. It was dying out with the breeze and its wood supply running low, only having been abandoned not too long ago. The nearby man had been the one tending it, his face and torso looked as if the pitiful fire itself had leaped from the embers and torched the life from him. He had fallen, screaming in pain before he had been silenced. Indeed the head was hardly connected to the rest of the body. The others had suffered similar fates, except for two who had died suddenly and unexpectedly and the third who was serving as a very poor watchman unaware until he faced oblivion. All of them had been warriors; Hunters to be more precise; Men with experience on the road, following trails and tasked with apprehending fugitives typically. Pyrian was a fugitive that was a cut above the majority, they had known that and prepared. Not well enough, they had suffered for their inability. He had known they were hunting him, there had been 17 of them pursuing him up from the south, they had been so for roughly a week.

Yet few could hunt better than the Wolf, a name as was one of his many arbitrary accolades from the villagers. It was was accurate enough, he had turned this game back on the soldiers. They had spilt, moving to the east and west, trying to build the trap. They were corralling him, driving him towards the Black City. They hadn't counted on him back tracking though, turning the hunters into the hunted. He would have had little chance against the entire group, even these eight could have overpowered him through numbers. Yet a fractured herd was a weaker target, they had made camp in the shelter of a hill. Where their lights couldn't be spotted. They never expected the attack, most were unarmed when he fell on them with blade and magic. Any wards placed upon them and any weapons they brought to bear were rather futile. He dispatched them with sheer strength, before they coordinated a defense. That too was too little too late and those few died together. True they had actually succeeded in their defense, inflicted some pitiful scratches. At least they had drawn blood, making it a worthy fight. The greatest victory of their final moments, in their eyes and the eyes of the hunter, was sending up a single flaring crossbow bolt; The signal to their allies.

A evil grin stretched Pyrian's features as he faked a stumble, his hands bound behind his back and the Black City on the horizon. His captors thought they had succeed, finding him wounded and vulnerable alongside their slaughtered comrades. Wounded enough by the struggle that he was a easy target. Despite all their skill and training they were taken by a simple ploy. He longed to strike at them, incinerate them. Shatter their rib cages and drain their precious blood from them. Yet these were only pawns and he had his plan from the moment they 'captured' him. Now he was marched towards their destination, not dead because he hadn't tried hard enough for him to believe that. No he was to be caught alive, they were of course unaware that he could break himself free, even without his glaive or sword and despite the two escorts who seemed to have one hand permanently on their hilts. He let them half drag and half lead him to the gates.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Pyrian Fenris Character Portrait: Anira Eden Character Portrait: Rowan Miorn
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by kexia
Anira hovered just outside the gate in the shadows of the huge wall, gaze moving back and forth to ensure the coast was clear. She glanced back to the woman that had followed her, then nodded her head toward the side of the road with its high grasses. Keeping low, she ran into the grass and began to creep south. Once they were out of sight of the Black City and its gates, they could cut out across the road and head west.

As they moved through the grass, Anira stopped suddenly and held a hand up to halt the other woman. She inched back toward the road and knelt there, watching in silence as a group of soldiers prodded a single prisoner along toward the city. She began to turn away, to leave the man to his own fate. But then she stopped herself. The King would not be happy. That demon, if he was still around, would not be happy either. She scowled, glancing back toward the woman behind her again. Did she really need someone else trailing behind her? No. No, she didn’t. She pushed herself up, still staying low and turned to creep away, then suddenly found herself standing straight, drawing her knives, and running straight at the group of soldiers.

The first man found the cool steel of one blade sliding between his ribs before he’d ever noticed her there. The sound of metal slipping out of flesh and the soldier falling to the ground drew the attention of the remaining four guards, all of whom turned on the newcomers, prepared to fight.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Pyrian Fenris Character Portrait: Anira Eden Character Portrait: Rowan Miorn
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Fenris was somewhat surprised when he heard the sound of gasping for breath. The soft sound of a silent death. His sight flickered and caught the staggering of the furthest soldier. The shadow of the lithe female form slipping her knife from him, letting his body crumple and drawing the attention of his guards. There were more of them out in the darkness, some ahead. He hoped this person knew what she was getting into. He grinned as the attention turned from him, for even a little. It disrupted his plan but he didn't mind. In this situation he could fight again. Fight, kill and win. It had been fun letting them think they've won. Still they would be punished for trying to hold him down, restrain the wild wolf. He swung around, hands still bound behind his back. Heel crushing into the soldiers to his left, smashing the wind from the hapless man. Magic surged through the impact, a burst of flame spitting out from the contact point, ripping through the flesh. The victim collapsed in a scream, clutching the seared wound.

The other one was startled at the suddenly violence he paused, even being a disciplined soldier. To his credit he recovered quickly, retreating back, weapon drawn next to his ally. Watching the prisoner and the new ally with fear and determination, waiting for back up. A burst of magic freed the warrior's hands. He grinned, glancing over at the new arrival behind him. She didn't matter as long as he wasn't her target. He settled his sights on the soldier who bore his weapons. To be honest he didn't care about the sword. It was the same as he could acquire from any soldiers corpse. It was the glaive, his favoured weapon he wanted back. The night's dark glowed as balls of power formed around each fist. He moved in on the soldiers, they had the range of their swords. He didn't seem to care all the much, speed and brute strength. Magical force brushing away the blades, although it taxed him more than a typical impact of steel on steel. He crashed through the defense of the two men, sheer power in his fists impacting into their chests. They dropped back, Pyrian was sure he heard some bones break on the impact. He fell on one man, weak and helpless as he tried to breathe with cracked ribs. A fist to the face, followed with the sound of a jaw breaking under the enhanced impact. The soldier already dazed, dropped into unconsciousness and most likely incredible pain.

The other one was already standing, struggling to get his sword to defend against Fenris. The ex-prisoner hardly minded, the soldier was in no condition to pose much a threat. Instead he recovered the long blade quickly from the already removed target. Turning to the soldier. Still the man was brave, probably hoping for help to arrive soon and he stood against the warrior.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Pyrian Fenris Character Portrait: Anira Eden Character Portrait: Rowan Miorn
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by kexia
Anira watched the man curiously for a moment as he freed himself with magic then proceed to pound the life out of two of the other soldiers. His tactics seemed familiar to her, as if from a lifetime ago. The glow of magic around his hands all but confirmed it, but she had little time to dwell on the thought. She heard the shuffle of armor and the heavy step of a soldier’s boot several feet away and began to turn. The sound of an arrow being released had her diving to the side, but it grazed the middle of her arm where her armor did not cover it. Letting out an angry hiss, Anira sprung forward and dropped one knife as she wrapped her small hand around the man’s throat. Soft green light spread outward from her palm until, beneath his skin, the man’s veins began to glow with the same light.

“No! Please!” the man whispered as his body began to convulse.

Anira leaned in close to the man, her green eyes glittering in the eerie glow, and spoke through her teeth. “Your days of terrorizing the innocent are over.” She snuffed the life out of him and drew the last of his energy into herself before letting him crumble to the ground.

Not until all the soldiers lay dead at their feet did Anira resheath her knives and stride forward toward the former prisoner, squinting in the darkness to look at his face. She would not chance lighting an orb out here. Their display of magic could already have been enough to alert the guards on the wall, and they would have to leave quickly. But first, she had to know.

The chains, the wild hair, it could be no one else. “Pyrian?” He may not remember her, as he had been on of the few to leave her alone during their time in the Academy, but she remembered every face from her time there. Not knowing that he had escaped during one of her own escape attempts, she immediately became suspicious. Hand hovering near her knife and the magic within her just a second from lashing out, she took a small step backward. “You fight the King now, as well?” she asked.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Pyrian Fenris Character Portrait: Anira Eden Character Portrait: Rowan Miorn
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

There came noises from the darkness. Signs of new arrivals. The light emanating from his magic picked him out so obviously, targets for both mages and archers. He cut it off, plunging him into the darkness again, he no longer needed such straightforward deliveries of strength anymore. He had his blade, his freedom and targets. There wasn't much he would enjoy more. He paused for a moment, casting a quick spell in the direction of the approaching men. A typical low-level cantrip but one that served his services well, being someone who hunts in the darkness. Purple flames licked around three other outlines from this direction and the wounded soldier nearby, not burning but visible enough. The three figures disappeared as quickly as they appeared but the single survivor wasn't lucky. He would've died quickly enough anyway, this just made it easier.

The blade was brought up at an angle, easily knocking away any weak defense. It caught the soldier across the chest. Tearing a wet slash and sending him spinning to the ground, dead eventually. The new arrivals got his attention, one was a mage he knew by the fact the faerie-fire had been dispelled. No one would be foolish enough to send out a skilled hunting group without a mage either. Pyrian himself was as much a mage as he was a warrior and he knew what he must do. He hauled the heavy rag doll of the crippled shattered man. With a burst of magical imbued energy, hauling him in the direction the trio. He wasted no time in following up, diving through the lowlight, giving his enemies a choice of two silhouettes to target and in silence. The mage chose him as the target, a flare of light filled the night. Robbing the adapted night vision of the the warriors, bright afterimages imprinted on Pyrian's eyes even though he had managed to shut his eyes tight in time. He feel the heat where the blast had grazed his side as he dived away. Had that shot connected there wouldn't be any concern for the soldiers, suddenly sightless in the dark. It didn't and the hunters had every advantage. He came up next to one disorientated soldier, the edge of the glaive cut hard into his neck. The weight of Fenris's bulk and the momentum of the swing brought it through. Throat and jugular torn away the hapless soldier collapsed with a wheeze.

The other two died just as easily, suddenly on the defensive with Fenris's violent push. Blood was invisible on the grass in the darkness. The sun would reveal yet another scene of slaughter. So often was one man underestimated when the odds shifted in his favour. He always worked to keep the odds in his favour. He turned to consider his helper, she had certainly done well but he wouldn't go as far as to call her a rescuer. He noted the motion of her body, the tenseness in the pose and the hand near what he supposed was a knife or shortsword. He made sure that his weapon was close to hand as well, ready in case this stranger should strike out. There was a small, cautious stand-off. He tilted his head quizzically as she recognized him by name though. He couldn't place this stranger at all, not with as much as he could make out. Her question thought caught his attention.

"Huh" He sniffed at the obviousness, looking around at the fresh corpses. "I suppose you could say that." His words were so casual. "Am I expected to thank you? You'll forgive me if I don't. You'll also forgive me if I don't happen to like strangers who know too much." Despite the threat in his words he moved away from the woman, almost carelessly. Stripping a nearby soldier of his blade and its sheathe and belting it on himself. A gentle touch to his tender shoulder confirmed the extent of the damage. Nothing a poultice wouldn't tend to over time. He tore one of the uniforms for a makeshift bandage. The whole time he was tense, ready to respond should the situation call.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Pyrian Fenris Character Portrait: Anira Eden Character Portrait: Rowan Miorn
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Belynta
Not knowing what else to do Rowan followed the Elf woman as she fled from the city, as Rowan moved along behind her making almost no noise she cursed herself for being such a fool. What had she achieved by showing herself like that? Nothing but gaining more attention for herself from the wrong people. Causing trouble for the King as she had been doing of course garnered a certain amount of attention but she had always been careful not to attract too much attention. Yet now she had done just that and now she had no idea what she was going to do next. For now she had decided she might as well follow this trail wherever it ended up.

She stopped and hunkered down when the elf woman in front of her stopped suddenly, she saw what had caused the woman to halt. A group of guards were patrolling and none too quietly either, Rowan counted four and was confident she could easily deal with them if she had to but she was more inclined to just go around them. With the amount of noise they were making she doubted they would notice her. Before she had started to move the elf woman suddenly stood and charged towards the guards clearly bent on killing them. Rowan cursed quietly and quickly pulled her bow from her backpack, the weapon had cost her a fortune as she had had the weapon master craft her a bow that she could dis assemble when needed. She calmly yet quickly assembled the bow and then strung it. In one smooth motion she had an arrow nocked and the string drawn back to her ear.

But before she could loose magic rent the air and between the elf woman and a stranger, who seemed a prisoner of the guards, the guards were all shortly dead, including those who arrived later. As the elf woman approached the stranger and said something to him, Rowan moved slowly down the hill towards the two of them keeping the longbow drawn and ready to fire.

"Well that was certainly an impressive show." She said dryly looking at the bodies. "Ahhh you have to love the sweet smell of evil guardsmen."

She stopped a short distance away bow still drawn and regarded both of them with level eyes. "You'll have to forgive the weapon but I don't have your...skills and I don't fancy ending up like them. I'm Rowan Miorn by the way, fugitive and general thorn in the King's side. And you both are?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Pyrian Fenris Character Portrait: Anira Eden Character Portrait: Rowan Miorn
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by kexia
Anira scowled. She hadn’t been asking for thanks. She hadn’t asked for anything. How typical of a human and a mage of the Academy to be so rude. “I am no stranger to you. We were at the Academy together.” The elven woman glanced toward the City and shook her head. She could see movement on the wall, the gates beginning to open, and men with torches lined up to await their order to march out. She glanced back at the woman who had followed, her scowl easing up ever so slightly at the joke she made. Well, at least not every human was rude and inconsiderate.

“I am Anira Eden. And I’m afraid I might be considered a bit more of a thorn in the King’s side than yourself...” The very thought of it made her lips quirk into half a smile. “I trained, with Pyrian here in the King’s Academy. My plan is to visit the elves, to bring them to the aid of those who wish this tyrant dead. If you wish to join me, than you would be welcome. Every blade- or arrow- is welcome. But for now, we must be on the move. His men have seen our magic, and they are about to march on us. We must cross the Black River before daybreak, or we will surely be caught.”

Anira’s gaze popped back to the City once more, then she turned back to the two humans. “If you wish to join me, then join me. If not... I wish you good luck on your journeys.” Without waiting for a response from either of them, she took a deep breath, drawing on her energy reserves- for she was bone-tired now- then took off at an easy run westward, toward the river. They had very little time to get across before the sun rose above the horizon. No doubt men had already been sent out the west gate to double the river guard, so getting through would be difficult enough without the shadows to hide in.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Pyrian Fenris Character Portrait: Anira Eden Character Portrait: Rowan Miorn
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Pyrian grinned as the stranger seemed to get irritated. He couldn't tell exactly but he guessed, considering the tone of her voice as well. It worked perfectly, he didn't expect to annoy her but he had no problems with brushing her up the wrong way now. Her admission though was intriguing, as much as her knowing his name. At the academy together? He couldn't place her, in fact he didn't care all that much. He hadn't concerned himself with getting to know many people at the academy and didn't get to know anyone after he left. The third person joined their group, he spotted her form before she spoke but not soon enough. He cursed himself for missing it. Had she wanted to kill them he had a nice opening, even better considering she had a bow at the ready. Yet he hadn't, it was a three way stand-off. All of them cautious, probably pointlessly so now. He certainly liked this Rowan's comments concerning their skill and the death of the soldiers.

The bandages was completely wrapped around his upper arm, staunching the flow of blood from the raw flesh. Finally the first stranger introduced herself, long enough without letting him know who she was. It was certainly a revelation, Anira Eden. He now recognized who she was and gave a little chuckle but kept quiet. He had no opinion earlier but he is starting to dislike this woman. She hardly gave him a moment to introduce himself to the new arrival, to be honest he didn't think a big deal about it. Its just Rowan seems more favorable than the half-elf. He chuckled at the comments about being a thorn in the Kings side. That made the three of them, although he had never heard of either of them. Really he doubt they had heard about him either.

She wandered away, her call for bringing down the Empire had very little weight for the loner. He didn't care much for the elves and really he thought her idea to actually rally an army was foolish. Of course the idea of killing the King was a tempting one. He didn't certainly want to be constrained by her designs in it all. He sighed in frustration, wasn't much more to do. With the woman's efforts he doubted there would be much for him to get up to down in the south. He looked at the other woman, seeing as she possibly was somewhat more polite then Anira.

"Pyrian Fenris." He introduced himself "I suppose it wouldn't be a surprise to say I'm just like you..." He grinned, watching Anira disappear into the night. "And her. I have no idea who she is really; Almost certainly a fugitive and not a particularly good one at that." He chuckled, thinking of the number of times the infamous woman had attempted to escape and failed. Fenris still hadn't decided if he was going his own way or join her. It seemed she was less suited to the terrain, he could probably make the river before daybreak. Maybe she'd need help. He shrugged in the darkness, moving to recover yet more weapons from the archer Anira had taken down. Slightly startled at the effect her magic had wrought but continuing to acquire the bow and quiver.

"Do you plan to go with her?" He asked, he really wasn't ready to wander off on his own. A bigger group brought more attention, more prey. "I get the impression she won't last very long without our help."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Pyrian Fenris Character Portrait: Anira Eden Character Portrait: Rowan Miorn
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Belynta
Rowan stood watching Anira run toward the river, the elf looked exhausted and Rowan doubted she would make it unless of course she had a magic trick up her sleeve. Rowan found herself torn, on the one hand she was wary of getting any deeper involved in whatever she was on the edge of. Yet on the other hand she was curious as to who this woman was that the King wanted so badly and also excited by the prospect of doing more than simply irritating the King. As she stood there unable to decide she saw the other stranger approach her.

She nodded her head in acknowledgement of his greeting and turned fully to face him having not had the chance previously to study him properly. She had to admit he was a strange looking man not like anyone else she had come across, the chains, markings and hard face made for an intimidating appearance. Yet it was an oddly compelling one too and Rowan found her curiosity piqued and she wanted to know more about him and where he came from. Add that to the possibility of doing some real damage to the bastard King and the decision suddenly became very easy.

"I meet men in the strangest places." She grinned at him. "I would ask what you're doing in such a place but then I would have to answer as well so its probably best I don't ask."

She turned to regard Anira's figure as it gradually grew smaller and more distant. "I don't really have anything else to do so I might as well see there this all leads. Besides you're right, I don't think she'll make it without us."

She smiled again and nodded towards the way she would be heading. "Your company would be welcome, I'm not sure how I'll cope if its just me and her!" She grimaced and then smiled again and then took off after Anira hoping that the man would choose to follow.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Pyrian Fenris Character Portrait: Anira Eden Character Portrait: Rowan Miorn
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Pyrian smiled, agreeing It may be an odd place to meet a man but in that case it would be just as odd to meet a woman, let alone two of them. He left the comment at that. He followed her as she pursued the wandering Anira. His long strides brought him up alongside and past the woman by a little. Comfortable in the plains as much as anywhere. He didn't try to strike up a conversation with Rowan. Although certainly she intrigued him, she seemed to share the stride of a plainsman, or plainswoman. Not to mention she had done little to stroke his ego, he certainly didn't mind that. Any way she was thus far better company than the half-elf, whom the warrior didn't try to speak to. He didn't want to talk to her, there was no point in wasting their breath. Seemed like she was short on that. Being quiet was a good idea too, the sky was overcast and the light from the moon reached through only occasionally. Sound was the best way to give themselves away now they were nearing the river.

For the majority of the trip his long legs had brought him upfront, in fact picking the best paths should the ground get uncertain. That happened rarely and he didn't really want to be leading the trek, he just didn't want to get slowed excessively by the tired woman. To her credit she tried hard, he couldn't actually see how fatigued she was. He let her ahead. Once the crossed the bridge and were over the rushing water he wasn't sure of where to head. He didn't typically wander near the forest and after all she was the one with the plan, whether he followed it or not.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Joh'fellnen (Joph) Character Portrait: Miorie Frostfall Character Portrait: Pyrian Fenris Character Portrait: Anira Eden Character Portrait: Rowan Miorn
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by kexia
Anira finally began to feel the tension easing from her shoulders as the sun began to rise with the Black City a small speck in the distance behind them. She was free again. And this time, she would not be caught. The thought raised her spirits and lent aid to her waning energy. She could see the sneer on Pyrian’s face when he looked at her from time to time. He thought her weak. Possibly, the woman did as well. But they didn’t know what she had gone through in the span of a single night. She would not let their passive looks bother her. She was used to humans looking down on her. To them, she was just an elf. Most humans couldn’t see the human side of her. They were blind to what was in front of them.

She knew that they had given the her the lead of their little group, and she was thankful enough for that. Anira had poured over the maps inside the Keep for years, always planning. She knew she would need the elves’ help. She would go to them first. They had to hear her out. She was one of them. Or at least, half of her was. And that was the only half that mattered. She led them around Lake Il, sticking close to the edge of the lake. Anira knew that the elves disliked intruders in their forest, and she would not risk it until she’d made it further south- closer to their beloved city.

But as they rounded the lake and began to get closer to the Black Waste- where Anira planned to turn westward and head into the forest- she noticed the smoke. “No,” she breathed. The elf in her cried out for the loss. She could feel that connection to the land, it was weaker, yes, but the magic within her made up for what the human took away. And she mourned the destruction that she saw in front of her.

Anira slowed her pace to a fast walk as moved toward the damage, fingertips grazing over the charred skeleton of a tree that probably had once towered majestically over the others. She heard soft voices nearby and turned to find two elves standing in the middle of a macabre scene. The stench of blood and death hung heavily in the air. Bodies- no, pieces of bodies- littered the ground, and the male elf seemed to be the culprit behind it, for he was covered in blood as well. Not that she must look any better, at this point. Fighting her way out of the Keep had certainly not been a clean affair.

Shooting a glance back at her two companions, Anira began to move forward. “Hello-” she called out, not wanting to take the elves by surprise. “Pardon the interruption...”

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Joh'fellnen (Joph) Character Portrait: Miorie Frostfall Character Portrait: Pyrian Fenris Character Portrait: Anira Eden Character Portrait: Rowan Miorn
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Joph thought to himself for a moment. "Reaper is not offensive," he managed with a slight laugh, though it felt forced. "Just unexpected. I am not entirely surprised that my existence is questioned, and I suppose I should be glad that my exile is no longer the topic of day-to-day gossip amidst the elves."
He cast his eyes downwards at the mention of her loss. He knew how that felt. "I am sorry," he offered. "If it is possible to have what is lost returned, I offer my aid. The pain of loss is great indeed."
Joph sighed quietly. For such a young elf to know pain worried him.
He watched her for a moment. "I don't mean to presume, but if they don't speak of my exile, then you must be curious--"
Joph's ears perked for a moment before he turned.
"Pardon the interruption," someone had said. He examined the woman. She seemed to be an elf, but the way she stood and walked seemed almost human. She had two companions-- both human.
He stood, wincing slightly. "Greetings, traveler," he managed, a twinge of pain darting through him. It wasn't the same without the forest. He wasn't the same without trees to dart through, dropping near surprised travelers only to lend them aid. He tried to smile, tried to appear friendly, but he succeeded in only frowning less solemnly.
"I am Joph," he continued politely, his voice still raspy. "Who are you?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Joh'fellnen (Joph) Character Portrait: Miorie Frostfall Character Portrait: Pyrian Fenris Character Portrait: Anira Eden Character Portrait: Rowan Miorn
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Miorie's ear perked up at Joph's offers to tell her of his exile, and to join her on her journey to find her brother...Grant it, she never said what she was looking for, only that she had lost it. She was about to explain this to Joph, offer him a purpose: to join her in finding her brother. After all, his home was gone, and from what she could tell he had no magic to speed the recovery process...Nature would take it's course and heal the land, there was nothing left for Joph to do in this particular location. Miorie also had the feeling he would not want to report back to Ma'el...Letting Joph join her on her quest would prove to be useful, and safer. To have another pair of eyes to keep watch, another set of hands to help win a brawl, and Miorie would not admit it out loud...she began to miss companionship while out on her travels.

She would later prod Joph about his exile, after she had struck her deal, but that's when they heard the other voices:

"Pardon the interuption"

She shot to her feet- how careless could she have been? The voice sounded too close for comfort, and she had allowed the person to close in on them. She pulled Gwyneria upright, instantly cocking an arrow, and pulling back on the string tightly- and in her sights was the group of strangers. Miorie examined them with quick eyes, a group of three, two she presumed to be human. The other, the one who spoke, was...a halfing. Miorie's face still showed a calm exterior, but on the inside she was damn near thunderstruck. 'A halfling?!' She questioned in astonishment. She had heard of them before, and knew in the times before her birth one or two of them lived in Ma'el, but had passed away. In Miorie's remote part of the world, at least where she was kind of socially active, halfling were a rare kind. She had never actually met one, or seen one, until now.

Still, Miorie could not trust the strangers, half elf of not...the party mostly contained humans, and humans in the forest generally meant bad news for the elves.

Her mouth nearly dropped as Joph offered greetings to the travelers, and then his name! HIS NAME. 'In the name of Ma'el,' Miorie moaned inwardly, 'they are't here for tea, Joph!' She looked at the strangers again...they were armed to the teeth. The halfling had twin daggers, the male with the odd metal wrappings had a long sword, and the other female seemed to be an archer. This could spell trouble. Miorie, as great of a marksmen as she was knew she was at a disadvantage. Two of the opposite party could close the gap between them quickly, and other archer most likely had close range combat weapons as the ready...And what did she have? Herself, with not enough distance to properly kite a party of their size, and Joph who was severely injured. The odds were not in her favor...

"Im not sure what you're playing at Joph, but I don't think they're here to offer us any aid." Miorie hissed. She never trusted strangers, because trusting strangers only led to betrayal.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Joh'fellnen (Joph) Character Portrait: Miorie Frostfall Character Portrait: Pyrian Fenris Character Portrait: Anira Eden Character Portrait: Rowan Miorn
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by kexia
Anira’s heart leapt. These were free elves. True elves. She had never met a free elf before. She raised her hands defensively when the female elf whipped around, ready to loose an arrow in their direction. “We are not here to cause trouble. We have come in peace.” She dipped her head respectfully when the male elf gave his name. “I am Anira Eden. These are my-” She glanced back at Rowan and Pyrian, frowning for a moment. Were they her companions now? Would they stay with her and see this through? Or had the just come along with her to escape the City? “This is Pyrian and Rowan. We come from the Black City.” She held her hand up again, knowing that a mention of the Black City would, in most cases, cause an outright attack. Might as well get the explanation out now. “It is a long story to tell... but the short version is this: I escaped from the dungeons of the Keep, then met these two. We have come to the forest to seek the aid of the elves... To raise an army against the King.”

Anira kept her hands up out of respect of the two elves. Though she could easily still attack them with her magic, they did not know that, and she would not do so unless provoked. She had come for their help, not to kill them. It didn’t help, of course, that her companions were both humans. From the looks of the gory remains around them, it must have been humans that had started the fire. She gestured back toward the charred remains of the forest. “I’m sorry,” she said in a soft voice. “I know this loss is a great one.”

Most unlike herself, Anira shifted uncomfortably. She had always been an outcast in the human world, due to being half elven. Deep down, she feared that she would be unwanted in the elven world as well. There was no place for a halfling in any society. But she a plan and she desperately needed the aid of the elves to carry it out. Defeating the King would not be easy and without an army of magical beings of their own, the plan would be doomed.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Joh'fellnen (Joph) Character Portrait: Miorie Frostfall Character Portrait: Pyrian Fenris Character Portrait: Anira Eden Character Portrait: Rowan Miorn
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Joph positioned himself between Miorie and the newcomers, to protect both parties.
He knew Miorie would no be pleased with that action, but it protected her more than it protected the others-- She could fire over his shoulder with relative ease.
He mentally kicked himself.
The burning of the forest... That was what came from helping people. If he hadn't helped the prior group, his forest would've remained intact. If he hadn't been so kind...
But kindness wasn't a choice for him. Guilt was something that he could not cope with well.
And yet he was now guilty of failure, due in part to his kindness.
"Given the circumstances," Joph started, coughing slightly. "I'm inclined to not believe a word coming from your lips. However, I met other escapees. Your story checks out. I can tell you are weary."
Joph tried not to think of the forest. He tried not to look. Tried not to breathe the noxious fumes.
The woman-- Anira-- gestured over her shoulder and apologized for the loss. He tried to push it from his mind, tried to stop the tears from welling in his eyes.
At the very least, he stopped them from flowing.
"I cannot help you get into the capitol," he finished, after taking a moment to collect himself. "For more reasons than simple lack of trust."
He wobbled slightly, though maintained eye contact with Anira.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Joh'fellnen (Joph) Character Portrait: Miorie Frostfall Character Portrait: Pyrian Fenris Character Portrait: Anira Eden Character Portrait: Rowan Miorn
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Fenris was also shocked when he saw the blackened damage to the forest. He always preferred the open lands to the forest. That's not to say he disliked the place, it added new perspective when he drew out some soldiers into its confines perfect for the slaughter. Other times they're just dealt with without his help. He never wandered too deep in the forest. The elves were aloof and mysterious. In the end he respects their ability to hide and hunt in a way he certainly would hope to achieve. To see their forest so damaged was something. He dreaded to know who would be invoking their wrath this day. He moved in beside Anira, spotting the two elven figures. One clothed in blood of the massacre that had been perpetrated. He looked on him with respect, the female companion seemed just as capable. While the initial greeting seemed polite enough the warrior kept one hand close to his sword. The blade-staff across his back couldn't be removed without appearing too aggressive. He looked across as Rowan to see if she was as prepared. He had a desire to fight such capable foes, apart from the fact they were not his enemies.

He kept silent as the exchange continued, cautious. One hand ready to summon magic at a moment's notice. The elven woman was the focus of his attention. Joph as he introduced himself seemed wounded and diplomatic. Yet the woman made no attempt to hide her displeasure. He almost laughed at Anira's attempt to deal. She arrives, expecting somehow to reach the capitol alive. If she could manage that without inciting the elves' anger she would still have to convince them to aid her. She had nothing to deal with, the three of them had no power to add to the elves. If they wanted the king dead and had the power they probably would have already.

It did pique Pyrian's interest with Joph's comments about other escapees. Seems everything was being stirred up, the warrior knew nothing of his companion's story other than she had escaped. It made him sniff at the ridiculousness of it all. Still escaping and being captured, even now. Had she learnt nothing?

When it seemed a little safer for them to communicate, despite the archer's dark looks, he moved his hand from his sword. He still had magic ready to use should the situation turn ugly again. For now though he tried to appear nonthreatening, even taking a moment to look around. The forest had been cleared of foliage round them, no boughs for elves to hide in and it seemed it was just the five of them. Yet you couldn't be too careful with the famed skill of the elves, they may still be outclassed. He joined the discussion. Indicating to the woman, for whatever reason Joph couldn't help them he didn't know if it applied to her.
"What about you lady?" He said, not mocking but certainly not in as polite a tone as his words would suit. "You can even send a message? I'm more than willing to stay outside your forest." He glanced over at Rowan, see if she had the same idea. Perhaps the half-elf could get through but he sincerely doubted that two humans would be allowed in.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Joh'fellnen (Joph) Character Portrait: Miorie Frostfall Character Portrait: Pyrian Fenris Character Portrait: Anira Eden Character Portrait: Rowan Miorn
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Belynta
As they came across the ruined area of the forest Rowan's first reaction was anger, how dare anyone do that to the trees and wildlife. Having spent her life wandering through woods she had learned how to respect them and this wanton destruction went against everything she had learned. She hoped whoever was responsible had been punished severley for their crimes.
Up until then she had running beside Fenris following Aneira, she had been content to let the other woman lead as her knowledge of the area was sketchy at best. She and Pyrian had not really spoken, as noise could alert others to their location but it had been a comfortable silence for which Rowan was glad.

Rowan's relaxed demeanour vanished as they came across the two elves. She would have been fine if the female had not targeted her with that ridiculously fancy bow, honestly a plain functional long bow worked just fine. On instinct she had stepped back slightly, pulled her long bow off her back and nocked an arrow. At this close range her bow was a bit excessive but she always went for the bow first and her long knives second. Arms steady she held the bow aimed at the female but continuing to listen to the others. Once they had finished she decided to throw her two pennies in.

"Wow someone really went to town here didn't they. If you need a hand slaughtering the culprits let me know." She said to Joph.

She then glanced at the female elf. "You really know how to make a girl feel welcome, good job I'm real good at making my own fun."

She looked at the females bow wondering how good a shot she was before looking back to her face.
"I followed Aneira in the hopes of causing havoc for our resident tyrant but if I'm going to have face this every five minutes im not sure its worth it..

She glanced sidelong at Pyrian. "If we end up getting thrown out fancy killing some patrols together?" she said with a grin before looking back at the female.

"So how about it, you going to throw us humans out, play whose the better shot or are you going to help us?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Joh'fellnen (Joph) Character Portrait: Miorie Frostfall Character Portrait: Pyrian Fenris Character Portrait: Anira Eden Character Portrait: Rowan Miorn
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Rage boiled in Miorie, her hand itched, and in her mind she had filled the invaders with all of her arrows. Her lip quivered in a scowl, and every known elvish curse word was dancing on her tongue.

The halfling tries to sweet talk them, and then the damned companions couldn't show respect when they were in another faction's territory. At least the male human spoke few words, though Miorie could honestly care less for his tone...but the other female, the one with the red hair- Miorie had half a mind to fire Gwyneria at her.

Insulted! In her own home, in her own territory! And they continued to add salt to the wounds, the red headed one would not shut up! She kept GOING- and every word she said seemed to just dig a bigger and bigger grave for the company. Miorie could feel her eyes looking her over, feeling Miorie up, and she could guess what the other was thinking: I'm sure I could take her, an elf wouldn't be a problem. The rage continued to roll in waves off of Miorie. And then the other even pulled out HER bow! Miorie scoffed silently, they had no right to produce weapons when they were the party intruding. The forest was just burnt- and it wasn't just forest, it was elf forest, Joph was injured, and they had practically crept up on the two of them- of course Miorie would arm herself! It was the only natural thing to do! She wasn't a damn welcoming party. There was no sign around them that said "Welcome! Ma'el is about a three day travel from here!"

But she bit her tongue, watched the halfling and the humans, the bitter words falling on her ears.

Now that she was alert and fully on defense, Miorie could hear the crunching of footsteps; from behind the company of three and from her left. She listened intently, all the while maintaining eye contact with the new comers, particularly the red headed woman. Another step, another crunch of dead foliage -elf ears weren't only decorative, they actually did provide enhanced hearing, and Miorie had better hearing then most because of her rogue tendencies. She recognized the heavy footsteps of chain mail, and heavy leather, the light sway of swords- guards or soldiers. Most likely friends of the corpses that laid about them, wondering where their dreaded comrades were. Miorie listened carefully, and kept locked eye contact with the the human female.

She let an arrow fly.

The decorative arrow that matched Gywneria was a solid silver, and when it flew it looked like streaks of moonlight. The arrow sailed past Joph's shoulder with ease, grazed through the hair of the white haired male, there was whizzing sound of the arrow for a few sounds, then a gasp and a thud. One dead solider sprawled over 80 years away.

Miorie loaded another arrow with speed and precision, she let her body and arms face to the left, but her head looked straight onto the company- not matching her sights with her body. She let another arrow loose, not watching where it went. The familiar air slicing sounds, filled the silence, and another gasp and thud. The second soldier laid dead, this one about 40 yards. A small smile spread across Miorie's lips. Let her skills speak for themselves, she was an elf, an archer, never to be fooled with.

She let her arms fall loose, her bow resting against her hip.

And then she did the most disarming thing she could think of: she smiled, genuinely,her eyes sparkling with a silent giggle. She sauntered over to the left, recovered her arrow, and took a stroll behind the newcomers, reclaiming the other arrow. She cleaned them of the blood and stood next to Joph, her flirty smile still plastered on her lips.

"Well," Miorie started, "I don't send messages," she directed this to Pyrian. "Nor do I see why I should? As Joph has said, I can't take you Ma'el because I simply don't trust you. If you try to wander in on your own, the patrols will-" she put a hard emphasis on will- "kill you on sight."

She then pondered for a moment. If she found their behavior intrusive, what would the other elves think? Miorie wasn't exactly a lady elf, and her manners certainly did need some polishing, however she felt she was better behaved (and spoken) then most humans. Elves, were culturally different...much, different from humans, particularly when it came to manners. Elves spoke usually in soft tones, carefully choosing their words, and being diplomatic when their tempers were not flared. The body language wasn't nearly as harsh either, instead it was relaxed and graceful, they only had hard lines in their features was when they readied weapons...How would these humans, and this halfling, fair if they were to be introduced to a full blown elven community? They surely be shunned. Maybe Miorie should let them waltz into Ma'el, just to see the social suicide.

"The elves have no interest in negotiating," she held up a dismissive hand, knowing there was going to be protest. "We have nothing to gain from over throwing the Black City King- another monster will take up the crown, and the cycle will continue. Who will you place on the throne? They too will fall to the corruption of power. Humans will continue to burn forest, disrespect and mutilate nature, and enslave our people. There is no gain for elves." Miorie's voice was light, even conversational, but her words were heavy and rung with the unfortunate truth.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Joh'fellnen (Joph) Character Portrait: Miorie Frostfall Character Portrait: Pyrian Fenris Character Portrait: Anira Eden Character Portrait: Rowan Miorn
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Joph stood silently, mulling over their words. His head pulsed, his heart ached, and they bickered.
He didn't appreciate how the redheaded archer spoke so lightly of the slaughter. He hated killing these men. Their blood stained him in more ways than one, and it would forever do so. Most of these men probably had no part in burning the forest, probably hated seeing it burn, and he had still cut them down.
Both parties spoke lightly of death. He wasn't sure how he felt about that.
But he was a murderer, now, after all-- He should try to feel comfortable with it.
Joph wobbled slightly, raising a hand to his head and rubbing his temples. "Lower your weapons. There's been enough bloodshed today," he asks, sighing. Not wanting to continue the discussion, Joph walks away.
Making his way towards his old home, Joph wiped his eyes. A now charred tree, the remains of his house scattered at its base, crispy and burnt-- that was his home. He sat amongst the ash, running his hands through it, trying to understand.
He didn't try to stop the tears from gently flowing down his face.
How long had it been? Almost one-hundred years... Ninety-seven, he thought. Ninety-seven years he had lived there. Ninety-seven years he had stood vigilant over the forest. Ninety-seven years he lived in solitude apart from the elves, lived apart from the world, not getting a visitor who didn't want to gut him in some way, shape, or form. Never in ninety-seven years did he have any friends other than the flora and fauna of the forest.
He had lost everything in the course of a few hours.
And they... Spoke lightly. Spoke as if his action against the human soldiers were warranted.
It wasn't. He hadn't thought. He hadn't cared, actually. He just slaughtered them.
What if they had friends? Families?
He couldn't get caught up thinking about that.
He sighed, wiping the tears from his face.
For the first time in ninety-seven years, Joph felt truly alone.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Joh'fellnen (Joph) Character Portrait: Miorie Frostfall Character Portrait: Pyrian Fenris Character Portrait: Anira Eden Character Portrait: Rowan Miorn
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Belynta
Rowan watched as the female elf dispatched the human patrol, she had to admit it was an impressive show and one that Rowan doubted she could match. She was good but she wasn't THAT good. With a small sigh she lowered her bow but kept it ready in case more of the Kings soldiers decided to pay them a visit. But she didn't really want to cause a fight between her and the female elf.
Sometimes Rowan, you can be a complete idiot! She thought in exasperation.

Though it galled her to admit it she knew she could have handled the situation much better than she had done. If she was completely honest she could hardly blame the elves for their distrust, her race did take them as slaves after all, and she could see her comments had clearly made things worse. Me and my big mouth she thought sourly.

"Perhaps I should start over." Rowan said to the female elf. "I am Rowan, I have a nasty habit of making light of things and sometimes it is really a bad idea. Like now, I apologise if I offended."

Rowan felt like she had eaten something nasty as she forced the apology past her lips, it wasn't that she didn't mean it as she did but more that she really hated admitting she was wrong.

"You are good with your bow." Rowan added. "Maybe you could show me that trick sometime."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Joh'fellnen (Joph) Character Portrait: Miorie Frostfall Character Portrait: Pyrian Fenris Character Portrait: Anira Eden Character Portrait: Rowan Miorn
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

The moment seemed to tense up again, perhaps it wasn't wise for Rowan to ready her weapon. Even so, this elven woman didn't seem to want any diplomatic outcome to the situation, the pair of humans offering a completely willing retreat. His hand moved to where the glaive was strapped across his back. Not the most accessible position but when this situation worsened he would need the maneuverability that it currently limited. His eyes narrowed, watching the woman. He responded as soon as she brought her bow up, pointing it towards him. Although as he swayed to the side as the glittering shaft brushed through his trailing hair. He did realize he wasn't target even as she let fly. Yet he still had the glaive in hand and ready. He didn't manage to hide his surprise, that shot was impressive. It was intended to unnerve him, though that was hard to do he was certainly astonished by the skill she showed. With the two soldiers down he lowered his exotic weapon. It seemed even if they were on unfriendly terms that a fight, between them, was not happening soon. "Impressive." He commented, sincere and grinning. The way the elf woman giggled at the swift and precise deaths was something he could connect with. Perhaps flattery would smooth out things. Not that he cared so much, this negotiation wouldn't progress.

He shut up, letting Rowan apologize. For what he wasn't sure what for but he guessed something could be done to get more out of this than bad blood. While she and Anira dealt with the situation he moved to inspect the recent dead. Going through their clothes, the wound on his shower pinching a little as he moved. From what he could tell these were typical foot soldiers, none of the King's hunters or specialist troops. It also meant that the two were far too few to be a full patrol. He let the conversation continue before revealing this little tidbit. He did notice Joph's retreat, confused by what seemed to be the elf's sadness. Why wouldn't a warrior, capable of massacring these soldiers, be proud of his skills. These days the power of might and magic was almost everything. He didn't dwell on it.
"We'll have to put off wasting their time until later." He quipped to Rowan, being polite to the temperamental elf. "Those two were probably scouts. The full patrol would be about five to eight minutes behind them. I expect a third scout probably went back to inform the patrol as soon as they spotted us." He nodded appreciatively at Miorie, fully aware of her capabilities. At least the ones she had exhibited. "If indeed they did spot us."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Joh'fellnen (Joph) Character Portrait: Miorie Frostfall Character Portrait: Pyrian Fenris Character Portrait: Anira Eden Character Portrait: Rowan Miorn
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by kexia
Anira was infuriated by the way things were going. Of course, she had never expected the elves to simply trust an outsider, even if she was part elf, but between the humans and their insufferable rudeness and the bloody female elf with the shaft an arrow shoved up her ass, she was about to throw her hands up in the air and leave them all behind. Forget them. She would find another way to kill the bastard. Go back to him, perhaps. Get close to him. Be the person he had always wanted her to be. Bide her time. Then kill him.

But she didn’t want to have to do that. The halfling tensed as the female elf raised her bow and the male stepped protectively in front of her. She would not fight them. Then suddenly the woman had loosed an arrow, another following quickly after. Anira was about to loose her magic when she realized the elf had been shooting two human scouts. Her gaze never left the woman as she watched her move around her small group to retrieve her arrows. She moved as if she were stalking them. A hunter rounding up her prey. She remained still, cautious, her magic all but emanating out of her.

Anira ignored Pyrian’s warning about the patrol likely being informed. The five of them could no doubt take out one of the King’s patrols in a matter of moments. Clearly, in fact, the male elf could do so himself. But she turned her glaring gaze on the female elf when she spoke up once more, shooting them all a flirtatious grin as if it were all a joke.

“The elves have nothing to gain by overthrowing the King? You are a fool to believe that. Look at what they have done to your forest. Look at it! Do you not mourn the loss of life that has happened here today? How typical of the elves to just decide that they could kill whomever did it and leave the rest of the humans to do as they wish. How many of your people have to be stolen into slavery for you to care?” The volume of her voice began to rise, her cheeks flushed with anger. “Do you not care for the elves that are bound in chains and forced into whatever acts their masters might desire of them? Do you care so little for your own kind, that you would allow it to continue happening, while the rest of you sit back in your mossy forest as if nothing were wrong in the world?” Anira stomped forward toward the female elf. “You are wrong if you think your city is safe! He will burn it all if it means he can control you! He knows the magic you hold here, and he will stop at nothing to harness it for himself. Do not take my words lightly just because I am a half-breed. The blood of The People runs through my veins as well and I will not have you look down on me like some common dog. It is no fault of my mother’s that she had been abandoned to her fate by the elves, as it is no fault of mine that I was born to her.”

Anira rocked back on her heels, scowling at the elf. Waiting.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Joh'fellnen (Joph) Character Portrait: Miorie Frostfall Character Portrait: Pyrian Fenris Character Portrait: Anira Eden Character Portrait: Rowan Miorn
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

"DO NOT TALK TO ME AS IF YOU KNOW WHAT I HAVE LOST."

She lost it, whatever control Miorie had was gone. Patience and calm had vanished, a mere thought now drifting on the wind and far from her mind. She saw red, ready to strangle.

"I don't care if you are human, halfing, or demon- but nobody speaks to me as if they UNDERSTAND what has been taken from me, when they know nothing about me." Miorie hissed, she bared her teeth like a complete savage. The anger coiled around her mind, destroying any rational thought. She experienced first hand the loss of a loved one, the guilt knowing she had allowed it to happen, buried her in deeper sadness with each day. At times, she wished she was taken instead of Tuyet. In the darkest of times, she would have preferred the ambush killed herself and Tuyet, then take him for enslavement. At least, in death, she knew Tuyet would not be suffering as he was now. Scared, alone, but he was broken- not yet, and that's what pushed Miorie every day. She knew loss, she knew it well- and to have a stranger throw that into her face was the greatest, lowest, strike the Frostfall had ever suffered.

Still, she held back the anger and bitter tears. Her voice shook with a mixture of pain and unmeasurable anger. "You know nothing of the measure we take- that I take- to keep others safe."

The long dangerous trips away from home, scavenging the cities for any sign, any clue of Tuyet. She knew the slave pens, the slave traders, and agonizing pain enslaved elves were in. She freed those she came across, paid in her own blood and flesh. She burnt slave owning homes and trade centers, killed abusers. And there were more like Miorie, more elves who moved in the shadows extracting vengeance. What did this halfing know? What has this halfing done for their people? Her people, as she deemed herself worthy to say. She pointed fingers, place blame on the elves for leaving her mother to her own fate, and now she seeks retribution? A hypocrite, Miorie's mind cried- the fact that she was a half breed didn't even bother her. What bothered her most of this woman's self righteous indignation.

"What have the humans done to aid us? Nothing. They too are guilty of turning and looking the other way. We were left to be DAMNED; nobody to aid us. Why offer aid to others, when none was never given? Trust is not given, it is earned- as is the aid of the elves. But what is there to trust? Slave traders? Murders? Abusers?" She gestured to the destruction of the forest around them. "This is what has been given to us by the outside world! We lived peaceably before the Black City King, and we are re-payed with enslavement!"

Taking a ragged breath Miorie continued, "Let us say you are given the help you need- what then? A rise against the King? We sacrifice the ourselves to allow another human control over the domain. Can you guarantee the safety of the elves? Promise the end of forest destruction? And end all slavery- let those who have been captured go free? Do you think their so-called masters will let their property," she said the word with disgust, "leave so freely?" Miorie could feel her grip on Gwyneria tighten with high emotion. "The Black King dies, we put another in his place, we sign a treaty of peace- but it is all words. We all know the truth- elves will still be exotic pets, even more sought after because they will be illegal. Culturally, we will still be trapped, and unaccepted. Hence, nothing changes for us- we are right back where we are now."

She walked over to Joph, she could see him visibly upset- this is how different they were, as night and day. Taking lives, fighting, it was all familiar to Mirorie and it bothered her less and less. "We leave," she spoke quietly, trying to calm her voice. "A debt is owed, and I ask you help me recover what has been lost to me. Before we set out, I will take you back to Ma'el, and you will recover there...I will ask to have your exile lifted, as a Frostfall my request will go answered."

"Follow then," Miorie called over to the strangers, beginning to walk in the opposite direction. "I have no final say in this negotiation, the royals do. Be warned though, my words will carry weight, and the odds are not stacked in your favor. We travel to Ma'el."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Joh'fellnen (Joph) Character Portrait: Miorie Frostfall Character Portrait: Pyrian Fenris Character Portrait: Anira Eden Character Portrait: Rowan Miorn
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

"You have my blade, Frostfall," Joph replied quietly, rising to his feet.
He sighed quietly to himself. She was stubborn, and he didn't feel like arguing. If she wanted his exile lifted, so be it. He owed her a debt; he would repay it however she saw fit.
His exile was technically self-imposed. The council, many years ago, forgave him for his murder of another elf in cold blood, for taking law into his own hands.
It was unfortunate, really.
The other elf had disrespected nature, and Joph wouldn't stand for it. He was younger then, less in-tune with nature, but just as in love with it... He didn't want to kill the disrespectful elf, but the pair erupted into a duel, ending in Joph's favour. He was, after all, one of the best bladesmen in Ma'el at the time. Of course, he had had his sword then, instead of the clumsy axe that he used as a weapon these days. But those days were long gone.
He tried to push the past from his mind, instead concentrating on what he would say to the elves upon his arrival. There were some he hadn't seen in years, decades. Would he recognize old friends? Would they recognize him? He doubted it. He hadn't changed much in the years of his exile, but it had been a long while...
He looked at the human travelers. They seemed determined enough, though he was unsure of their purpose. He didn't agree with the prospect of war. War brought destruction, brought agony, and he felt the world had had enough of that.
He turned to Miorie. He still didn't know much of the elven woman, but she was determined to recover what she had lost, determined to do what was best for the Elves. Joph was determined to help.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Joh'fellnen (Joph) Character Portrait: Miorie Frostfall Character Portrait: Pyrian Fenris Character Portrait: Anira Eden Character Portrait: Rowan Miorn
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Pyrian became less and less interested as the conversation erupted into argument. He simply chuckled at the futile attempts by either side to set themselves up as victims. Anira had nothing to bargain with other than a half heritage, yet here she was ridiculing the elf. She really was a fool, he moved over to stand next to Rowan. He wasn't in this for the halfelf's pathetic idea of overthrowing the King, his interest was merely in the destruction of the system. The annihilation of the Academy and all the oppression and imprisonment it stood for. He couldn't care less what replaced all of this, another tyrant rises and it would just serve to preoccupy him until the end of his days. Certainly he wouldn't let himself age. He was trained to be powerful. A killer and destroyer, enjoying the irony of turning these skills on those who molded him.

Anira was a fool with a misguided ideal of freedom and righteousness. Yet this elf was a utter bitch, not many other ways to describe it. There was no call for her to respond the way she did earlier. Now she was throwing a pitiful tantrum like a pitiful child. Not at all like the proud and respectful race she represented and Fenris respected. A child with a deadly eye and a bow. He reminded himself, he couldn't get too relaxed or let his guard down. She ranted on and he got a further impression of her; A racist, stubborn bitch. The worst kind.

"I'm expecting that even if they didn't scout us the patrol would know we're here by now." He mentioned to the human archer, accompanied with an eager grin. All this arguing, while a bit of entertainment, got tiring very quickly. A fight would be a nice addition. So he was notably disappointed and surprised when the elf called that, despite all her posturing, she would lead them to Ma'el. He waited for the others to lead on following the woman's lead. He was certainly both anxious and eager. He wanted to see how the elves lived, free from the slavery faced by those beyond the woods. Yet this forest was a place of hidden threat and a guide he certainly couldn't trust. He gave a little sigh, worst of all he was not stuck with the two angsty woman. Maybe it was a poor decision to join this little entourage.