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Neecey

"I just want to find my way home."

0 · 582 views · located in Siveen

a character in “Siveen”, as played by HOLYCRAPAGHOST

Description

Neecey is a Delocian Elf. The ones of legend. She has long brown hair that is often braided down her back, but she wears it down sometimes. She has light green eyes, the signature of her race, and a round face. She is shorter than humans, being an Elf, therefore making her more nimble and flexible. Because of her life in the forests, Neecey is usually wearing colors of the Mother. Browns and greens, to help blend in with her environment.

Personality

Neecey has always been a loyal creature, always knowing her place within her tribe. She worships the Mother, and blesses the living beings she has created. Neecey, however, has always been curious and bit adventurous. She fell in love with the excitement that the forests provided, and quickly followed in her father's footsteps to become a Ranger. She is meticulous and calculative, being able to understand the Mother better than most. She has learned the forests as if they were an extension of her, and easily found peace protecting her people.

Over the years, however, she has become docile and reluctant. Fears from her past have brought out a more cautious side of her.

Equipment

A bow that reaches to her hip when stood up on the ground. It was made with sturdy materials of the forest, and blessed by the Mother herself. A leather quiver that holds up to 60 arrows at one time.

History

Neecey grew up happily in her tribe. They treated her well, and soon discovered her aptitude for the bow and arrow. She spent many years training under her own father, who treated her harshly to not show favoritism. When she was still a mere child, she and her fellow apprentices had gone to the Edge. The Edge was at the very end of the Delocian forests and started to blend into "other" territories. It was forbidden to go the Edge without a proper guide or until of age.

On that day, she was abducted by the Nikians, a nomadic tribe that was bent on revenge. One of their own had been killed by Delocian hands and they were at the brink of war. Neecey was taken to their tribe to be killed on sight, but someone showed pity on her. Since no one had come to save her, on fear of starting a savage war that would bring the Delocian down to humanistic levels, she was given the option to live. Death would have been kinder. Neecey was forced to be a slave for the chief, a young girl forced to please a corrupt Nikian. After years of abuse, Neecey managed to escape and has found her way to the main land. Her only goal is to find her way back home. Whether that means traversing with a group of humans.

Writing Sample

Neecey slumped in her cage, her knees pressed to her chest. It was the eve of her eighteenth birthday, and she was trapped in horrendous conditions. If she were back home they would be treating to her a glorious feast, and in the morning her elders would take her to the Edge to show her the gruesome ferocity of the "others". She would officially be an adult, able to take on apprentices and teach the young ones how to be proper Delocians. She felt tears burn her eyes as she thought of her home, her family.

She strained against her bindings, the rough twine scratching into her skin, leaving bloody marks. This would not do. Chief Bosh preferred her skin has silky and pure as the day they had captured her eight years ago. She shuddered, the memory shaking her to the core. Trapped in the cage only forced a longing to be free into her body. She was once allowed to walk freely among the Nikians, but after her fourth attempt at escape they had resorted to caging her every night.

If she could just get her hands on a bow, she could escape.

It wasn't until later that evening that she saw another person. A Nikian to bring her food. He was dressed in barely anything, just a rough leather material covering his crotch. It was the Nikian style to be free and one with the Mother. Neecey was forced into their styles as she grew. Wearing practically nothing except two dark leather pieces covering her chest and waist. She still wasn't comfortable, even after eight years of it.

The guard opened her cage and stepped inside. He wasn't the usual guard, usually it was a larger man. This one was smaller, his body still muscular but more wiry in certain situations. An archer. He made the mistake of bringing his bow inside with him, dressed as if ready for battle, not to bring a lowly slave her dinner. Dropped the platter to the ground, the bread and sticky grape juice splashing along the dirty ground. Neecey stared up at the man, a cold smile on his face.

She was used to be taken advantage of, there wasn't much she could do while strapped to a cage, but she was never taken by someone as small as she. When he lunged at her, she immediately kicked up, her foot making contact with his face. He stumbled, but it didn't stop his onslaught. She continued to kick until the guard fell, his body slumping to her side. She took in deep breaths as she immediately began to work on freeing her hands.

The rope burned into her skin, but she continued to pull until she ripped the twine from the wall. She immediately grabbed his bow and the quiver with only a few arrows. Moving slowly, Neecey found her way out of her prison and into the village. She was home free. She just had to get to the forest, then there would be noway the Nikian would find her. She made a break for it, her bare feet pounding against the rough ground. Her goal was nearer and nearer, but of course, the victory was short lived.

Nikians appeared out of nowhere, weapons armed on her. She immediately began backing away, fear grabbing a hold of her heart. Her forest farther away than it ever were. Glancing to her left, she saw the river, that lead to one of the human villages. She turned back to the Nikians, their numbers moving in around her to trap her. She grabbed at the bow and an arrow immediately shooting it at one of the archers.

She quickly took them out, one by one, worrying about the swordsman later. It was harder to escape from arrows than blades. The warriors moved in on her, but Neecey evaded easily. She could taste freedom, and she wasn't going to let it out of her grasp this time. Taking an arrow from a dead archers throat, she stabbed it into the eye of an oncoming warrior and shot it at another. Not wasting anymore time, she leaped into the river, letting the heavy current take her away.

My favorite color is GREEN.

So begins...

Neecey's Story

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Neecey felt her limbs weaken. She had been floating in the river for a while now, trying to keep herself afloat. She was weak, her body aching. She had figured she would have made it to a town by now. She had no idea how long she had been floating, but she was terrified to crawl back on land. What if she wasn't far enough away from the Nikians? She was exhausted, they would easily be able to haul her back.

Shove her into her cage, and probably use iron shackles this time. She dunked underneath the water, than brought herself back up. She could feel her exhaustion even more now. She could easily drown. She would never return home, but at least she would never fall into the hands of the Nikians again.

Neecey felt the current pick up, her leg smacking against a large rock. She was probably nearing a mill, hopefully that meant a town. A farmer who would feed her and clothe her, until she was well enough to continue on. She spun herself around to see her assumptions were correct.

A large mill sat on the edge of the river, it's large wheel speeding up the current. A rush of adrenaline coursed through her veins, and she forced herself to swim to land. She pulled herself up, her arms shaking underneath the weight. She collapsed on the grass, it's blades tickling her nose. She forced herself to keep going, clawing her way forward, pulling the rest of her body up out of the water.

Neecey crawled, unable to stand, closer to the mill. The creaking of the wood her only salvation. She had to reach it. She had to make it. She had to survive. She was almost there. Almost to salvation.

She outstretched her hand, reaching towards the wooden door. Her limbs shaking.

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Character Portrait: Neecey Character Portrait: Keiran Greywind
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Keiran was exhausted, originally he intended to take a break after burying two of the seven relatives he came to visit; not a long break but a quick meal and get back to it. Instead he wound up doing four, the children were quicker to handle than their parents. He pat down and smoothed over this patch as well before he re-covered the cart he was using. He didn't head to the main house, that was where the family stayed and he couldn't guarantee the place was clean. In fact during his entire visit he'd lived in the guest rooms in the mill, a crazy idea when his cousin first built the place.

He wondered why he hadn't gotten sick, was it because of the cats living in the mill, perhaps because he quickly ran himself through a fire after each time he was over. At any rate he was only wearing his leather armor at the moment and was entirely unarmed, kept him from having to worry about his equipment. Rather than doing his usual fiery baptism, he quickly ran a torch near he body; it was incredibly hot but as before but this seemed to keep him clean. He doused the fire before he came across the front door...and the girl laying in front of it.

"Are you alright,"he stooped down while asking a rather stupid question. He got an arm around her to hoist her up, she was wet and cold, "hold onto that thought." He didn't even know if she was awake or not but he quickly picked her up and entered the building. He climbed up the stairs a bit on the slow side, he didn't want to jostle her.

He got into the room he was staying and grabbed his cloak, wrapping it around her. One great thing about his cloak was that it was amazing at absorbing water and quickly drying off. He put her on the bed and piled all the sheets he could find on her; it was at that point he noticed that her ears were pointed. The girl was an elf, which explained why she was so small and light.

He grabbed himself a piece of bread before he got back to work,leaving the loaf out and set the stew pot on the fire to heat it up. The stew wasn't overly impressive, Just some lamb, potatoes and onions cooked in water that he added a strong drink to. The pot wasn't directly over the fire so it'd take longer to heat up but he had some dark business to finish first. He set out a spoon and bowl so she could help herself and also water should she be thirsty.

"I've got somethings to take care of quickly, don't worry I won't be too long," he found her silence rather unsettling for the moment but for all he knew she didn't understand him. A brief thought of him returning to her using his bow, which was under the bed flashed in his mind but that wouldn't occur. The pullback on it was much more than she weighed, besides he hadn't hidden any of his other weapons around the room.

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Neecey felt her arm collapse beneath her as she finally reached the door. She gave a final effort to knock on the door, but ended up lightly tapping it with her fingers. She felt her eyes droop shut, her body caving into the sleep she desperately needed.

She had no idea how long she had been out, when she felt someone slowly pull her up. They were asking her questions, but she couldn't form the words to reply. He was speaking the language of the humans. Neecey had learned it while under the capture of the Nikians, but she could barely form words from her own language, let alone the human one. A series of awkward sounds came out of her mouth, that barely constituted as sounds, as she was pulled into the house.

Neecey tried to open her eyes, to get a view of her surroundings, but her body refused to obey. She kept getting fuzzy glimpses at the surroundings. A fireplace. A rocking chair. A blanket tossed over an arm of a chair. But nothing else. She was back to unconsciousness.

After another brief stint in the blackness of her mind, Neecey awoke. Jolting forward, as if awoken for the first time in eight years. She thrashed, her legs caught in several blankets and coverings. She desperately kicked off the heavy weight, and freed herself from the confines. She pushed off of the bed and shook herself free from the unknown material. She glanced around the room, wondering what she could take.

She had to get home.

A smell wafted to her nose, and Neecey turned to see a pot over the fire. A glorious smell was emitting from the pot and she couldn't help but bring a scoopful to her mouth. She gulped down the stew, it's flavors complimenting each other nicely. She gulped down another four spoonfuls of the stew before continuing her search. She had to find suitable clothing. She couldn't traverse across the terrain in her Nikian ensemble. She dug around the small room, digging through trunks and shelves, looking for any clothes that could possibly fit her.

She settled on a pair of dark pants that were a little too big for her small frame, but would be tightened around her by the belt she had found. She grabbed the smallest tunic she could find, a small white one with a small tear at the hem, and slipped it on over her head. It came just past her belly button, which would do for now. Now, she needed a weapon.

Neecey hadn't seen any sort of weapon while searching for clothing. She glanced around the room, trying to think of any place she hadn't already looked. Under the bed, maybe? She crawled onto her knees and stuck her hand underneath the small space. She couldn't see much, but she could feel a few things underneath. She settled on a smooth object and pulled it out to see. A knife.

That would help, but she would feel more comfortable with a bow. She continued searching through the objects under the bed, finding more knives, but no bow. She was about ready to give up, stick with the three knives she had grabbed, when she felt her hand glide across a tight string. She gripped the string and pulled, revealing a long bow. It was beautiful, the wood carved to a perfect curve. The string tight and thick, perfect for battle.

It reminded Neecey of her father's bow. The one she had first learned to shoot with. Pulling back on the string, she found that it was almost exactly like her father's. The draw was heavy and strong. It would do. She just needed a few arrows, and she would be fine. Nothing could stop her with a bow like this.

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Somehow Keiran got everyone buried by sunset, whether the task just got easier or if it was because he was worried about the girl he didn't know. After he smoothed the dirt over all the graves allowing for grass to more easily grow, he set fire to the cart. In the cart was all the cloth and anything that he wasn't able to scrub down and glaze over with flame from the main house. The cart and it's contents burned quickly he didn't have to do anything to the contain the fire, the weather allowed it to cleanly burn out. With this he could safely sell the property back to the city and be on his way.

He quickly returned to the mill and glazed himself with a torch for the final time. In his haste he burnt himself slightly this time but he was more interested in his guest. Knowing he'd smell of smoke and slight burning he still hurried up the stairs and entered the room. The girl seemed more than fine, she was up and about and handling his bow just fine. "Oh hey elf girl's up. How are you doing, you were a complete mess earlier today." He was friendly with his greeting but then what he said suddenly dawned on him.

"Wahh!? Elf girl?!" The words flew from his mouth and he found himself diving back at the statement. "By the Skye, a real elf; what are you doing here? Not the house I mean out of your woods, I've never heard of an elf leaving their wood. Then again in Landing we have tales about how elves don't fully mature until twenty-five winters and will live to see hundreds of them." In his surprise he wound up freaking out, babbling and asking questions at the same time.

He inched his way towards the wardrobe, in it were his swords and arrows. "I must say, you elves are strong... there aren't many men that can bring that thing to a full draw. By the way, I'm Keiran Greywind, son of Aedin of Landing, what's yours?" At the moment he hadn't gotten to the wardrobe but he had the table between them and a throwing knife was in arms reach...close enough to even ground. It was then that curiosity kicked in, "By the way, how do you like the bow? Most people tell me it's weird because it's not one solid curve; my father left it to me and I've not found a man who can make one like it."

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Neecey jumped at the sound of someone speaking. She had managed to find an arrow hidden under a wardrobe and had armed the bow almost immediately. She aimed at the man, and stood straight. He was talking, speaking rubbish. Yelling about how elves never leave the forest.

"I did not have a choice, I was taken away." She said through clenched teeth.

She followed him with the arrow as he inched closer to the wardrobe. His weapons were probably stowed away inside, explaining how the arrow had gotten lodged underneath. He continued talking, admiring her skills at actually being able to draw the bow. He was trying to distract her, she could easily pick up on the tone in his words. However, if she kept him talking, and inching closer to his weapons, she could make a break for the door. She didn't want to kill him. He had essentially saved her life, and for that Neecey was grateful. But she would be damned if she was going to let this one man stop her from getting home.

"It was just like my father's. His bow was as sturdy and strong as yours." She explained quietly. "And the design is definitely different, but I can understand the appeal. It's much easier to hold."

He was still inching towards the wardrobe, and Neecey made note of his name, Keiran. "My given name is Neecey. And, I'm truly sorry about this."

She shot the arrow and pinned an article of his clothing to the wall. She quickly dropped the bow onto the bed, and made a break for the door.

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She got him with his own arrow, clipping some of his armor to the wall. Fortunately he got his hands on a throwing dagger and threw it at the door frame full force. It skimmed by her without touching her and embedded itself deep in the door, the blade effectively locking it to the frame... it'd be a bitch to pull out. He was close enough to another to embed a second knife as well before he got the arrow out.

"I can understand wanting to leave a dangerous situation but do you even know where you are? If so, great and if not you're making a mistake; I don't know how you elves do things but where I'm from we at least exchange stories with our rescuer before leaving." As he talked he opened the wardrobe and pulled out a broadtip and pulled to a full draw, " In Landing we have a thing called a Table Bond; it means that as soon as the guest partakes of the hosts food or drink they are under the hosts protection. The bond lasts three days, during which the host and guest are like family; one bringing harm to the other is a grave act of dishonor punishable in this life and the next."

He let her mull those words over, along with the arrow; after all she shot a bodkin, meant for small prey while he had a broadtip. An arrow meant to kill bigger creatures than them, if he shot at her and clipped her she could still expect heavy bleeding on the body; the arrow head was bigger than his forearm so it went without saying it'd sever a limb. "I don't know whether you partook in food or drink so I can't flat aim at you but should say you open that door at that moment the bond's forfeit."

Keeping the bow trained on her, he continued, "Forgive me, but I've buried seven kinsmen today,three children among them so I will not be the best of hosts but I would like to know what you meant by forced here." He'd relax the bow when she sat down and began talking after they exchanged stories, it'd be dark and he would insist she spend the night. He was heading out tomorrow and the prospect of someone willing to help her in exchange for a story should be enough to keep her interested.

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Neecey yelped as the knife lodged itself by her head. She eyed the blade, but quickly spun to face Keiran. He was aiming an arrow at her, one that would definitely do damage if it struck her. He blurted out questions, as if she were a child, chastising her. She was no child. She hated being treated as such, especially from a non-elf.

"I may not know where I am, but I followed the river here, I can follow it back to my forest." She explained. "I know that forest better than I know my own body."

He continued speaking, explaining something about a tradition of Landing. Although, she wasn't from the place, Neecey had a respect for tradition. It was ingrained in her mind from the many teachings of her elven elders. Although the Delocian rarely communicated or interacted with the humans, it was best to stick to their certain traditions.

When he mentioned the food and drink, Neecey's eyes wondered to the pot hanging over the fire. She had gulped down several spoonfuls of the delicious soup. She would have to abide by the rules. Keiran had saved her life, the least she could do was explain herself.

"When I was ten summers old, I was taken from my village by the Nikians. I was forced into slavery, becoming a toy for their chief. For ten long summers, I was trapped in that forsaken village, abused and mistreated each night." She moved away from the door, Keiran's arrow still trained on her. She plopped on the bed, wrapping in her arms around herself.

"I finally managed to escape my prison and jumped in the river to escape capture. I don't know how far from the village I am, or from my forest, but I have to get home." She explained. "I need to. I don't...belong in this world." She could feel her eyes stinging with tears. She wiped them away and looked up at Keiran. "You said you had to bury seven kinsmen? Why? What happened to them?"

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Keiran lowered the bow and unstrung the arrow as she sat down. "Sickness claimed them, I haven't seen anything like it before... one by one they just wasted away. I'm not entirely sure how, maybe because I bathed myself in fire every time I came in contact with them but I didn't catch it. Sorry about the Nikians, haven't met any myself but I've heard they're a savage lot." He set the bow and arrow down and went to the door, to pull out the knives.

Bracing a foot on the wall he began to pull hard and it slowly came out and he put it on the table. "As it stands,"he began on the second blade, which was even harder to pull out, he had to put both feet on the wall and fell when it came out. "I intend to sell the land back to the town tomorrow and head home." He put the second knife on the table and set about getting himself some food.

"Help yourself if you're hungry or thirsty by the way. So in truth you may be on your way back home by tomorrow; of course I'll help with supplies." She'd seen the underbelly of human behavior for long enough and he'd have done this anyways; but he felt she needed to see the better half of humans.

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Neecey watched Keiran leave the room. He must feel horrible. The young elf could barely imagine what it would be like to bury her fellow elves. Leaving their bodies to rot, never truly knowing peace. In her tribe, there was a custom for those who had passed. They were to be honored. Draped in their finest silks and linens, laid upon a silken mat lined with the beautiful flowers that grew in the area.

One by one, the elves would pay their respect. Every elf played a vital role in the tribe. Whether it were leading the great Delocians, or simply looking after the children, every elf had a purpose and each one would be honored in passing. Every elf, whether a mere infant, or a wise elder, would say their final farewell. Then, the entire tribe would speak as one, the prayer of their kind. A beautiful ancient verse, in a language that was once used to speak to the Mother, that would send the elf's off to the next life. To be free with their Mother.

Remembering her customs, Neecey could feel more tears sting her eyes. She missed her family, even the way her father would pinch her shoulder when she was doing something wrong. She instinctively rubbed the spot with her hand, remembering how badly it used to hurt from the many pinches. She would give anything to feel his rough fingers dig into her flesh.

She didn't even know if her father was still alive. He was older than most elves when Neecey was brought into his life. She had been gone for so long, something could have happened to him. She shuddered at the thought of coming home and finding that her father's Sending had already occurred.

Wiping away her tears and pushing off the bed, Neecey ignored the offer of food. She had taken enough from this man, plus she just wanted to get home. She had her energy back and she had eaten more in the few hours she was here than she had in the past eight years. She found her way downstairs and outside. She found Keiran standing beside a large mass of overturned dirt.

Was this where he had buried his family?

Neecey stepped past the human and up to the disturbed ground. She kneeled down and placed her hand atop the dirt pile. She could feel the Mother's life coursing through the dirt, already moving to send the humans buried beneath.

"Dari nu na'vi mir cal baliv vithirs. Ti'kir donis baliv. Moris baliv hon ri mithica, liliming Ronima."
Take these souls and set them free. Watch over them. Protect them for all eternity, divine Mother.

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Keiran stretched after Neecey said some words over the graves, "Well it'll be an early morning tomorrow. Take the bed, We'll divvy up what gear I have in the morning and then see about properly equipping you in town. You might want to wear my cloak for the trip, the cowl will cover your ears and keep people from staring. I wouldn't feel right if you just left with what I've got back in the room." He began to turn to go back to the mill when a question struck him.

"Forgive the question, it's just in Landing we have nothing of elves but stories and you seem so young. But how old are you?" He did a quick look over, but he couldn't tell which Landing stories were true and which were just that," I mean you seem younger about six years my junior but if even half of the stories back home are true; then you could easily be more than ten times my age." He didn't have any ulterior motives to the question, it was just so weird because he didn't know how elves aged.

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Neecey turned when Keiran spoke. The ages of elves had always been a mystery. Elves would live to be hundreds of years old, outmatching any human. They lived through the Mother, and She granted them their long lives.

"I have seen eighteen summers." She explained. "But I am 36 in my culture. Our lifespan is different from yours, for we live and die with the Mother. When the winter comes, we have reached a crucial moment in life, and when the Summer comes we celebrate living through the hardships of Winter."

It was an old custom, but it was how the Elves lived. The Mother gave them life, and they lived and died with Her. Celebrating when her plants and creatures returned to her land after several days without, was a beautiful moment. Everyone celebrated and moved up in age, for they had survived. And, when the first snowflakes fell, the would mourn the loss of their great Mother's power. They would move up an age, for they had been blessed to enjoy the Summer.

"It is how we live," She explained. "It is...hard to explain to someone outside of Elven culture."

She chuckled quietly, covering her hand with her mouth. "Thank you." She realized that must have sounded random and quickly moved to correct herself. "I mean, thank you for earlier. You saved my life and I am eternally in your debt. The Mother thanks you as well. She says that you have great power hidden inside, if you would just listen to it."

Neecy smiled kindly and turned back toward the mound of dirt.

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"You're right, it is a little confusing," Kieran replied. "Though I think I'll have to disagree with the Mother there; I have only what I've carved with my own hands and if I had any power then I could have saved them. But at any rate, that's seven of my family off to the Skye and in exchange I got an interesting little sister...for the moment at least."

At that moment he became aware of blade in his boot, he drew it and the sheath out and thought a bit. He walked up to Neecey and held the curved instrument out to her.

" Here, take this until we can get you a proper blade; the throwing knives aren't good for anything else except improvising a punch dagger." He considered telling her about how it was his family's oldest possession, but that would be unnecessary.

It was getting dark, and he figured it was about time that the two of them got back inside. Just because they were near a town didn't mean that the woods would be safe at night.

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Neecey listened intently to Keiran's words. It wasn't uncommon for the humans to disbelieve the ideals of the Mother. Although the Nikians were a special case. They believed they too came from the Mother, but they treated themselves and others like savages. She tilted her head when he referred to her as a little sister. He definitely seemed older, in actual human years than she. She didn't find the term offensive, just strange. Most humans looked upon Elves with disdain or blatant fear. Humans do not like what they do not understand.

Neecey was shook out of her thoughts when a blade was thrust into her hands. Keiran explained that it was fine until they could get her a proper weapon. A proper blade, he had said. "I am better with a bow." She explained. "I've grown up learning it. I can use a blade such as this in case of emergency, but a bow would keep me alive for longer."

He led her inside, silent. The darkness was descending upon them, and Neecey could feel the hairs on her neck stand on edge. The darkness was a fearful time. Dark deeds happen in the darkness.

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Character Portrait: Neecey Character Portrait: Keiran Greywind
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Keiran nodded at her words as he walked back to the mill. When they entered he applied both bar locks across the door, he had taken great care in burying the bodies but that didn't guarantee a predator of some form wouldn't come for the smell. At any rate he wasn't about to take the chance of them coming in the mill, since there were no windows on the first floor and the second floor was a closed loft; any window entry would have to occur on the third floor. Since the room was on the third floor there wasn't much room for mistake should something figure it's way up but since they were near civilization his caution should be enough. He lead the way upstairs and even went through the pains of pulling up the ladder before closing and locking the trapdoor leading to the third floor.

"Forgive the paranoia but I have a feeling that evil is afoot this night and I don't intend to leave any openings that a bit of caution could prevent." He knew he sounded stupid as he said this but years had taught him to trust his instinct. "You go ahead and take the bed, I'll seal up this floor and the two above us." the third floor was an effective living area but it was meant to house only one person. He went around closing and locking the windows on the floor before ascending the next two floors and repeated his work, he even sealed the hopper on the roof and double checked his work. Everything seemed sound enough.

With everything said and done, he went into the bedroom and sealed it too before setting himself down across from the door. Since he'd let the fire die and didn't have the resources to light it for anything besides warming tomorrows breakfast, he closed the sealing flap on the chimney as an afterthought.

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Character Portrait: Neecey Character Portrait: Kenni Character Portrait: Keiran Greywind
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Neecey couldn't sleep. Keiran had welcomed her into his home, but the young elf felt uncomfortable in her surroundings. She had passed out here earlier, but she was completely without her sanity. She was grateful to the man, but she couldn't bring herself to relax. She sat on top of the bed, her legs crossed beneath her.

She tried meditating, hoping that the calming thoughts would help her relax into sleep. She wished she had her charm, a necklace that her mother had always worn before the maiden died. It was just a simple charm, something Neecey would use to speak with the divine Mother. Her mother was once a priestess, one of the elves who could communicate directly with the Mother. The charm was used to help speak with the Mother.

Neecey didn't know how it worked, but it helped calm her. She had lost the charm when the Nikians had taken her. Without the charm, Neecey wasn't sure she could actually speak with the Mother; she wasn't sure if the divine Goddess could hear her when she did have it. Only those blessed can speak with the Mother. However, the young elf placed her hands together, and closed her eyes.

Vila nosar yon bonir! Ilimas sirimi esth loith!
(Move quickly my child! Someone needs your help!)

Neecey's eyes shot open, but they weren't greeted with the bedroom. She was flying through the forests by the mill, flying through leaves and twigs before seeing a group of people walking along the path. A flash of fire red hair, then zooming through leaves landing on a hunched beast stalking them nearby.

Her mind was back in her body, her vision greeted with the dark bedroom. Not wasting any time, Neecey grabbed a hold of the knife Keiran had given her. She was already bolting out of the mill, not bothering to tell her host where she was going.

They were in danger.

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Character Portrait: Fayvus Tritnai Character Portrait: Neecey Character Portrait: Kenni Character Portrait: Keiran Greywind
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Keiran started when Neecey took off like she did, he couldn't tell what was wrong but her expression wasn't that of someone running away from something. He stripped the room of his gear with practiced haste and tore out after her. She was fast, incredibly so and he had a hard time trying to catch up with her even with his longer stride.

Instinct kicked in and forced him to roll before he could get into the clearing where she'd been headed. He'd caught a glimpse of a group of people there, notably a red headed girl and an old man in strange armor. He didn't have time to focus on that though, in front of him was a large wolf like creature that was beginning to stand on its hind legs. Apparently he'd rolled out of the way of the pounce, at any rate he heard more in the clearing and he knew wolf behavior; these the ones they saw were the scouting party. A howl from the clearing gave his fear more weight, hopefully there wouldn't be much of a pack.

He set back in a relaxed stance, a loose body gave nothing away. A fact given away by the beast's surprise when he not only charged when it did but he ducked under the wolf's slash as well. When the arm full extended above him he grabbed the wrist and punched the elbow. The fur on the creature was remarkably smooth in contrast to the matted appearance. He felt and heard the elbow break under his fist, but it felt like punching a stone wall. Since he had to slide as part of the dodge, he was gliding into the creatures legs. He took that opportunity to slam a booted foot into a straight knee cap, he felt it give as well but it felt like kicking a tree trunk. He spun and stood out of his slide and was reward by seeing the monster shift its weight to two "legs" the bone was sticking out of the back left and front right legs.

"With a body like that, I don't think I can use my blades on you. Looks like we're going to be doing this the old fashioned way." For some reason the beast didn't try to retreat the way an animal would, it sought to pounce on him again. He rolled around the good claw and shattered the elbow; the creature bit at him but the folds of his cloak had somehow trick it into biting air. He used the momentum of the pounce to duck under and claim its last leg before letting the creature crash into the nearest tree. He used his booted foot to shatter its jaw when it trick to howl for help, it felt like kicking a rock. At that point he tuned into the remaining noise in the clearing, he didn't have time to finish this one off. He drew his scimitars as he ran, with enough speed, he might actually be able to cut into these things.

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Character Portrait: Fayvus Tritnai Character Portrait: Neecey Character Portrait: Kenni Character Portrait: Keiran Greywind
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Neecey felt the wind rush through her hair, the whistling sound in her ear bringing comfort. Normalcy. The clothes she had taken from Keiran's home were weighing her down, the material too loose and baggy. She was fast, but not as fast as she could be. Without thinking, she began stripping the clothing off, pulling the shirt up over her head and letting it fall to the ground as she continued to run.

She could feel her speed picking up. Even as she kicked off the boots and let her bare feet touch the Mother. She felt connected to her, which helped her find her way. The pants took longer to get off, but once they were, Neecey could move and shift positions quicker. She was left with nothing but her old Nikian clothing, although she despised them, they would do well to move quicker.

With her connection to the Mother, Neecey knew that the beast was up ahead, closing in on the group of travelers. The elf stopped running, gripping the knife tightly, and listened. She could feel their movements through the ground. The Mother had showed her one beast close by, but there were several more approaching. She could also feel Keiran running after her.

He had found one of the beasts, and quickly dispatched it. He was good. Fast as well. Neecey quickly began running again, the beast Keiran had taken out had managed to successfully call to the pack. They would be on top of the group soon.

Neecey quickly moved towards one of the trees and climbed up, sticking the blade of the knife into her mouth to free her hands. She moved across branches swiftly, like a squirrel. She moved above the group, careful to not make too much noise. She could see the weapons they had, a crossbow and spears even. As she passed them, she waited patiently in the trees, wishing she had a bow.

She wasn't as good at close combat, distance was her forte. She could easily take out the pack that was slowly stampeding towards them with a bow. Hopefully, Keiran would get here soon and he could help her dispatch the creatures before the young elf got too overwhelmed.

Neecey quickly spotted the beast that was originally shown to the elf by the Mother. It moved quietly, waiting for the rest of its pack to get here before attacking the traveling group. What were they doing out here so late? It was dangerous to travel at night; especially under a full moon.

The elf slowly moved further down the tree, careful not to make any noise. Few leaves fell as she descended, but not enough to give away her position. As she neared the lowest branch, she wrapped her toes around the center and let her weight descend onto the limb. She slouched down, her back curving around her frame. Her green eyes never strayed from the beast.

She watched it pace back and forth in wait, its yellow eyes scanning the pathway and resting on the group. He was hungry, and wanted to attack. But its pack wasn't here, and he would need it. He knew.

This wasn't an ordinary wolf, too large, its body not like regular wolves. The Delocians came across them a few times. Half wolf, half human; hunting on their land, killing innocent elves. It would be difficult to dispatch them, especially without a proper silver blade. The only thing she could do was completely immobilize it. Silence it.

Dropping down, Neecey's legs wrapped around the limb as she swung upside down from the branch and let her body swing. A few leaves fell, the noise alerting the beast. Exactly what the young elf wanted.

Waiting, knife gripped in her hand tightly, Neecey could feel her muscles tense up, but she ignored it. Blood was rushing to her head, but she kept her mind clear and focused. This was her only shot. She had to make it count.

As the beast neared her, Neecey raised her blade, he stepped underneath her and she brought the blade down, sinking the sharp edge into his neck. He tried to howl, but Neecey had successfully cut through the vocal chords. She twisted the blade, blood spilling out over her hand, before pulling it out. One down, at least a dozen to go.

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Character Portrait: Fayvus Tritnai Character Portrait: Neecey Character Portrait: Kenni Character Portrait: Keiran Greywind
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There was a howl that made Fayvus shiver. Even worse he heard fighting in the distance. Harbinger became nervous as there was most likely a creature approaching them. He dipped his entire knife into the paralysis poison vial and corked it again. A guard began to yell as he saw a creature charging straight ahead of them. It was a Lycan. "Block formation around Kenni!" Fayvus yelled as Harbinger began to make an oval charge.

The creature was to powerful to be killed in one clean shot so Fayvus got Harbinger closer and closer so that he could throw his knife at it. Within ten feet of the beast he threw the knife where it completely pierced it's right shoulder. Harbinger rode around it for five seconds before it collapsed due to the poison. Fayvus got off his mount, walked over to the beast, pulled out his knife, and stabbed the Lycan's eye with it.

Fayvus stood up straight now to call out to the guards. "Stay in open ground! Spear them in the neck or under arm when they charge! Protect Kenni at all cost!" There was yet another charging. Fayvus charged the beast head on yelling a fierce Nikian battle cry.

Coming to the beast, it luckily, attempted to pounce him. Fayvus kicked some dirt in it's face and slid underneath the creature, slicing it's genitals in the process. He swiftly got on his feet as the Lycan was still painfully trying to pick itself up. Fayvus cried out as he made a under hand sweep with his hand axe at it's neck. He heard the weapon crunch into it's spine in the back. He was glad his weapons weapons all had silver in them. Though fancy there was an unmistakable use for silver when dealing with the supernatural.

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Character Portrait: Fayvus Tritnai Character Portrait: Neecey Character Portrait: Kenni Character Portrait: Keiran Greywind
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The old man seemed to know what he was doing, much more so than the armored idiots he was with. He assumed this "Kenni" person was the red head, at any rate he changed his dash to reach her at full speed, his cloak streaming behind him and cowl covering his face. If he'd thought about it, he would have realized it was a bad idea, an entourage like this meant she's important. After all he still had both scimitars out and held low, if he were in Landing, this might be forgivable but this wasn't Landing.

Fortunately, reflex caused him to jump and go over the girl and he brought his blades into a forward cross as he landed behind her. "Pardon me ma'am but would you be so kind as to tell me what these creatures are, and if you've seen a girl about your age come by?" He felt plenty of hostile looks, but this small break until the pack showed up was no time for such things. He decided to get the second part of his question answered himself, "Hey Neecey, get over here and cover me, the Bodkins won't do shit against these things but I'm pretty sure the Broadheads will do the trick; only got five so make em count." The weapons the old man held had a similar sheen as the dagger he'd given to Neecey and they seemed to cut these things easily. None of his other equipment looked anything like that... he had a feeling this wasn't going to be easy.

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Character Portrait: Fayvus Tritnai Character Portrait: Neecey Character Portrait: Kenni Character Portrait: Keiran Greywind
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The following moments passed in a blur, all leading to a man approaching her, blades drawn and face hidden. He spoke without her ears listening, the crossbow in hand nearly slipping from her shivering fingers. Never had she witnessed such a nightmare in reality, Fayvus twisting and slicing like a man of the wild, the clash and clang of metal attacking the air and sudden creatures. And blood. So much blood the air grew rank with the scent as more beasts charged forward.

Distantly, Kenni heard herself respond, "Lycan," to the mysterious man. "They are Lycan. Only silver can do enough damage." she had read about such creatures when young, before the priestesses of the church forbade such pages to exist within the young girls' grasps. "And no...no girl."

Kenni acted as if her limbs were controlled by some other entity, Storm neighing encouragingly to her. Seeing Fayvus, she aimed the crossbow a few feet to the side of him, an approaching wolf man ready to take charge. Kenni located the sight, exhaled slowly, and released...

...the bolt found the throat of the beast. Lips pressed together tight, Kenni refused to believe what she had just done. Instead, she turned to the man. "Help Fayvus," she said, indicating her nurse.