The Realm of Eyphah

The Realm of Eyphah


a part of The Realm of Eyphah, by Just Sayin'.


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The Realm of Eyphah is a part of The Realm of Eyphah.

14 Characters Here

Neurian of the Whispering Willow [3] The breeze is calm, and so am I.
Lilian Ryder [1] "That's one way to end the evening."
Fear [1] True fear paralyzes the body and leaves one helpless
Keta Glype [1] "You want to know what I think is bad? Ok, but first what is your definition of bad?"
Ceylino [1] "The wind is unpredictable, sometimes a light, playful breeze and other times a turbulent monster. Isn't it a perfect metaphor for sentient life?"
Aislin Marian Ash [1] "Now let the day, just slip away. So the dark night, may watch over you."
The Slender One [1] It is only a myth... or is It?
Arwyn Oakstream [1] "Water is the element of Life."
Ren [0]

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Character Portrait: Fear

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A blood curdling scream rang though the thick forest.It was a scream or both pure terror and extreme pain.The kind of scream that a living being only made when they were faced with true fear.Fear that not only paralyzed the body but at the same time rotted away at the soul.

The scream stopped as suddenly as it came as if whatever made it was no longer able to.Even the trees in the forest seemed to listen for anothr scream.But none would come as a huge dark figure crept out of the forest holding a bloody,mangled mess of what might have once been recognizable as a living thing.

The figure wore the most wicked of smiles,one that could bring even the bravest of men to there knees.The figure wore this smile as it devoured the mangled creature that it held in its hands.It ate as if it were a starving wild wolf.The blood splattered across the ground and on the face of the figure as it dinned on its catch.The figure seemed to be very please as it finished its meal and threw the bony carcass on the ground and wiped its face with its arm"Satisfying indeed"Said the figure in a very raspy but deep voice.

The figure began to chuckle slightly as it looked up at the canopy of the forest sniffing the air"What is this smell,its suddenly showed up a few days ago.Its absolutely tantalizing.I must have whatever its coming from.I must devour the creature that wears this scent"With that the figure walked back into the forest and off towards the scent of these mysterious new creatures.He would not stop until he got a taste of them.

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“Okay Arwyn you can do this.” Arwyn murmured to herself. She took a deep breath and tried to clear her mind. It was harder than she thought. Birds chattered in the trees above her, teasing.

Steam, fire…


—Steam, fire…




“How am I supposed to practice my water bending when you’re all making noise?” Arwyn laughed, opening her left eye. The blue jays seemed to be laughing with her, as they planted themselves firmly on her shoulders.

“Father isn’t going to be too happy,” Arwyn sighed, concentrating on the small bowl in front of her. It was only half full. “This simply won’t do…” Arwyn yawned, peering closer at the bowl. She had been trying to make water evaporate—the more advanced part of her lesson. She wiped the perspiration off her nose and cocked her head to the side.

“Freezing it is so much easier,” Arwyn complained to herself, and then stood up with a huff. She flicked her wrist upwards, lifting the water gently. Then she made a fist and the water froze immediately in the air, oblong shaped. The birds twittered as if to congratulate her, and Arwyn bowed mockingly.

“Thank you, thank you. I’ll be here same time tomorrow.”

She started back home. The Lights had fallen a while ago, but Arwyn didn’t mind the night as long as the stars shone outside. Lately she had found solace in the stars, much to her father’s dismay. The past disappearances of her fellow elves had put everyone on edge.


The moment she entered her house, she knew something was wrong. The air felt heavy and dark. She found herself gasping for air; the ominous presence crushed down on her, like a cruel gravity. Terror seized her chest and for a second, she felt as if her felt were fused to the stone floor.

“Child, thank the spirits of Eyphah you’re safe!” Begravilia, Arwyn’s wet nurse threw her arms around her, muttering thanks to the spirits.

Arwyn opened her mouth to speak, but no sound reached past her throat.

Begravilia was shaking uncontrollably, and the last time Arwyn remembered her nurse this terrified was when…


“There has been another attack…I’m so sorry,” her nurse spoke, confirming Arwyn’s deepest fears.

“W-Where’s Gywn?” Arwym managed to push past her heavy tongue.

Her brother had gone on a tracking expedition this morning with a few other elves. He should be home by now.

“He’s gone…” Begavilia trailed off.

“He’s…gone.” Arwyn repeated, trance-like.

Then she burst into tears.


Arwyn was told many things those following days. She knew it was unlikely for the attack to have been initiated by the werewolves…they only attacked on a blood moon—even the littl’lings knew that. On the blood moon nights, all Elfin littl’lings would be hidden while the Elfin warriors guarded their territory.

The attack had been one of the vampire’s. Vicious creatures, ones with no pulse, no blood, no hearts themselves…or so the stories were. All the same, vampire attacks were rare, unless their blood supply was running low. Vampires rarely attacked elves because of the strange taste Elfin blood left in their mouths and the stomach aches they received—they much preferred werewolf and shape-shifter blood. For a vampire to have attacked an elf must’ve meant they were desperate. But why?

Arwyn had no way of knowing why—nobody would talk to her. Days, weeks, months passed by like a blur. She was no longer allowed to leave the castle, no littl’lings were. Her brother hadn’t been the only victim. Three others were robbed of their lives as well. There had been a massive funeral for them, which Arwyn was allowed to attend. She was sent to her chambers right after.

After spontaneously bursting into tears, Arwyn carefully stored her grief behind a hard shell of anger. It was a strange feeling. It bubbled inside her, in the deepest recesses of her being. She was not used to the sudden waves of heat. In those waves, she’d find her jaw clenched tightly, her hands curled into fists and her temperature rising, coloring her translucent skin. It was something she feared and welcomed at the same time. It was a defense system against her overwhelming sorrow, like a damn against her flowing tears. Arwyn learned to embrace it, using it to calculate a plan instead of dwelling on the tragedy like her mother had succumbed to.

These were the times she missed Ai. Ai was about 200 years older than Arwyn, yet she didn’t seem to mind the age difference. Ai was kind and fun to talk to, and she always made Arwyn feel better. She missed the times when they would go out and prank the elders together. She wondered where Ai was now...probably with the rest of the warriors…Ai was old and powerful enough to be apart of the adult circle. There was no other time Arwyn wished she were past her 300 summers than she wished now. Once an elf past their 300 summers, they passed onto their adult stage and a grand ceremony would be held in their honour.

And then there was sweet Willow. Little Will, Arwyn used to call him when he was just shy his 20th summer, which had irrevocably stuck since then. She missed him terribly as well, and blamed her overprotective mother for keeping her locked up in her chambers. Then she felt instantly guilty. She could understand. Her mother had lost a son…and she would do anything to make sure nothing happened to her sole daughter. Her mother had stopped singing since then. It was horribly silent in the Oakstream household.

Then there were the whispers…whispers about why her brother and the others had planned a tracking expedition in the first place. What were they tracking? Tracking missions were uncommon. But Arwyn remembered the whispers between the Elfin, about a strange new species emerging out of nowhere. Creatures that seemed to be causing quite a stir in the Council of Elders.
“The Slender One would know!” Someone had spoken up during the Meetings. These meetings invited all Elfin over their 100th summer.

“He’s a but a myth!”

“One should not speak of such blasphemy—”

“Have you ever laid eyes on—”

“The Slender One is dangerous, we should consult Queen Avaro.” Another suggested.

“And the vampires? Will we do nothing about them?” a furious voice broke through.

“Settle down young’uns,” Elder Gravefoot, the head Council spoke tersely, “our first and foremost priority is to learn the truth about these new creatures. They may be far more dangerous than any vampire, werewolf, or Lycan.”

“We’ll send another scout team.”

“Absolutely not! Look what happened the last time.”

“And Blood Moon is just around the corner. We must be cautious.”

“We have no other choice. We cannot leave things up to chance…this scout team’s mission will only to be to figure out what these new species want. It will be less dangerous than the first,” Elder Gravefoot glanced around the room.

“Even so…”

Arwyn decided it was finally time to speak up, “I agree with Elder Gravefoot. And…I’d like to be apart of the scout team.”

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Character Portrait: Keta Glype Character Portrait: Ceylino

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It was dark but she could see every detail in astounding clarity. Across the clearing Keta could count the veins on a leaf that fluttered in the wind. The wind blew, making the tree she was in groan. Adjusting her grip on her bow she watched her target carefully. A young stag was grazing, occasionally lifting its head up to look for predators. It couldn't see her, though. She sensed the deer felt something was not quite right and knew she had to shoot it soon.

Moving slowly she took an arrow out of her quiver and knocked it. She drew back the arrow until the string was taut and then released it. The shaft flew straight and lodged itself behind and slightly above the front leg, piercing vital organs. The deer ran into the forest. Keta swiftly climbed down the tree and began to follow the blood trail. She found the deer laying on the ground, dying but not yet gone. With her knife she ended its life while thanking the animal.

She dragged the carcass to a tree and hung it up with some rope. She began to butcher the deer. The process was bloody, warm work. Guts and the hide had to be removed along with the head. She made sure to save the tough stringy sinew that could be found under the skin in the back. Wrapping the meat up in the hide she began to drag her parcel to the place her family was camped.

When her mother saw Keta with the meat she helped haul it over. "Thanks for bringing us some food. Your father hasn't been having an easy time hunting lately. He hurt his back," said her mother. While her mother built a fire to cook with Keta cut the meat up and rubbed some herbs to flavor it. Soon all of her family was eating the deer meat.

"I've heard there are some new creatures in the forest," Keta's father, Trangem, said.
"What do you mean? New supplements to our diets?" Keta asked.
"No, they have the same shape as our normal forms. They could be Lycans or Vampires, but no one has seen them drink blood or go into werewolf form. Thus it seems like they are something totally different. Do you still want to eat them?" Trangem asked.
"No, I just didn't know what you meant. If you meant animal or sentient," Keta replied hastily.

The family finished their meal and Keta went on her way, leaving some meat behind. What were these new creatures? Would they be as threatening to her family as vampires? If they proved so, Keta was ready to kill them if need be.


Ceylino was practicing his power with some carrots and apples. The pulp lay on the ground while the juices or the fruits and vegetables were floating in the air, mixing. The liquid was a bright orange. He moved the juice ball over to him and took drink. It was sweet and tasty, seeming to take the best of both apple and carrot and mixing them together. A humming bird darted over and took a sip of the juice. Ceylino's tail thumped the ground in happiness. He was glad another creature was enjoying his creation, too.

Opening his satchel he took out a jar and placed the juice in it. There. Now he could have it later. Fitting his head through the band of the satchel so he could hold it he leapt into the air. He glanced wistfully at the Hadrons clan territory. I was just trying to help! Don't they realize that since I helped the Lycans they might one day feel an obligation to help me back? Why is my clan so afraid of outsiders?

Vanza. They called him Vanza and the title would probably never leave his name, even if he joined the clan again. He was marked as a traitor forever. He didn't like it, but he was willing to live with it. At least I am not lying about who I am. I own myself and am not a slave to the rules of the clan. Ceylino could see why rules existed. Usually he didn't have a problem with them. But rules telling him to drive out or kill helpless people? That was something he definitely wasn't going to follow.

The wind streaming against his face calmed him. Flying was always something that relaxed him no matter what the situation. It required enough concentration to keep his mind off distressing matters. Looking down Ceylino saw a group of two legged creatures on the ground. They weren't vampires, of that he was pretty certain for they were out in the day, and they weren't acting like Lycans. Or shapeshifters either for that matter. As far as he could tell. Curiousity piqued, he flew in circles above them, slowly descending.

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#, as written by Inno
The winds were at their worst this night; evident in the howls and cries, the ruthless raging howls, and the sharp slashes that whipped about the slender, rigid figure. As barely audible steps carried the willowy form forward, as scarcely perceptible words were whispered in hopes of calling back to her the exceedingly familiar being that journeyed ahead. Cobalt gaze scanned, with little interest, the thick wooded surroundings; scanned broken areas, broken soil, and broken, lost souls. Pursed lips curled sinfully as a gust lifted off the cracked earth, as a creature -no more than a foot and a half in height- appeared as though from the dust itself, and halted before her.
Its tail, glowing with hunger, flicked once, twice, a third time before the unfamiliar slowly and purposefully crept Its way towards the awaiting figure.

“Hm?” Scarcely exceeded above a whisper as clawed fingers curled around her slim ankles, then gradually trailed up towards her pallid knees as her dull gaze lowered to It. The miniature beast, with little effort, climbed up her slight frame and made Its way to Its favored spot; her thin left shoulder. There, eyes glowing a dull yet beautiful crimson, the creature slanted Its abnormally large skull against hers, flicked Its peculiarly outsized ears, and hummed a painful tune.
As It whined in a tongue only she could comprehend, as Its claws dug eagerly into her bony shoulder, her nostrils flared to drink in the vigorous winds, to breathe in her monster’s wishes for souls and death, to understand, and fully comprehend what new individuals caused such a juristic change in the only world she has known.

Moving forward in no such hurry, a smile curved pale lips, as lids lowered on a now haunted gaze; steps moved further as though by memory.

“Patience. Soon, we too shall glimpse the unknowns.”

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Character Portrait: Neurian of the Whispering Willow

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Neurian was laying on the roof of his house, staring into the blank sky. It were times like this that he would rather like to forget everything that had happened to him and just live, play his harp and die happily. However, for the past ten summers, there was a massive push from his parents to prepare him to take over the family house. The Willowsythes were a very respected Elfin house, and he was the last remaining heir after... after...

Nero shook his head, not wanting to remember. Summers passed very different for an elf, such as it did for most creatures, since they were immortal. Years were nothing really, decades were elapses of time that were slightly bothersome, and centuries were lengthy and respected. Those who were centuries old were respected, those only decades were thought to be children. Which was exactly where Neurian sat, at the meager age of 94. Twenty summers ago felt like yesterday (like two months in human reference) and it was still fresh in his mind. To counteract those thoughts, he would play his harp frequently, bringing a smile to his sorrowful mother and allowing her to sing once more. When he stopped, so did the light atmosphere, so he made it his job to play more than he probably should.

Nero sat up, recalling his last thought as the breeze caressed his hair. It was much shorter than any other male elf, which made him stick out. He actually cut it himself after Calian... passed on, his own little vow to his elder brother. Once more, Nero was getting off topic again. His father was teaching him the ways of the Willowsythes, how to act and who else he needed to watch for. He memorized his relatives, combat moves for his staff, and more boring things to make him feel insecure about his future. He would occasionally leave mid-lessons and run off to be alone, soaking up the beauty of everything around him. Normally, however, he was found by another elf and they would chat. Many looked down on Willow due to his age, or due to his past, but he treated them all the same.

However, in recent events, he wasn't even allowed to go to lessens anymore due to this shifty business with a scouting party. For once, Neurian was actually intrigued by the politics that were going on not that far from his house. The meeting place of the Elfin Elders was but a stone's throw away, and on most nights he could hear the tedious ranting. Yet, in light of these events, which had confined him to his room - they said the Blood Moon was coming, and everybody who hadn't reached their 100th summer were to be protected vigorously. He began to actually miss the occurrences with other elven folk, such as the mischievous Ai or the sweet Arwyn. The only thing he could do was play - no complaints there - and cautiously experiment with his wind bending. He found it interesting, to say the least, as he could make some very beautiful effects with it.

Willow, as Neurian is sometimes called, sat up when he heard talk of something called the Slender One. He normally wasn't that curious in nature, but this meeting was piqueing his interests. Stories of expeditions for unknown objects, interesting sounding people, and even a new species? Other than the Blood Moon - which still made him scared and nervous - and the mention of vampires, this meeting was quite enjoyable to an onlooker. That was until Arwyn suggested another search party, and even suggested that she go herself. That 'took the cake' as some would call it, as that usually was unheard of, having an elf nominated herself to a search party. Neurian very much wanted to go on this adventure, but there were 4 problems with it that couldn't be overlooked:

1. He wasn't even at his 100th summer yet, so he had little to no say in meetings, and his father would be furious if he tried.
2. He was quite useless when it came to such things, as even though he wanted to he had no field experience
3. His fighting was quite pathetic - in his eyes - compared to the others that would be nominated
4. He was too shy to take a stand and suggest himself.

Neurian contemplated what to do, as he waited for the meeting to end.

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It moved through the trees, It's feet barely making a whisper as they passed over the thick foliage on the ground. The trees were alive, singing out to their Keeper. The sweet tones filled It's head, all proclaiming a single message: Something new is here tonight. It moved, communicating with the forest around It, It's thoughts alive with anticipation. The possibility to see something new after knowing this forest for so long... It could best describe what It was feeling as Happiness. It was so pleased, It decided to treat itself to a riddle.

You saw me where I never was and where I could not be. And yet within that very place, my face you often see. What am I?

It would have smiled, if It had the face to allow it. Why, a Refection, or course.

But a refection of what, It wondered. What would these new creatures look like? As It walked, a new arm sprang out of It's back, slithered down to the ground, and plucked up a flower. Even though It could not literally see it, It still could. The delicate bend of the stalk, the small beads of water clinging onto the plant, the soft blue of the pedals. It was utterly beautiful, it was absolutely perfect. It took the time to bend down and replant the flower into the soft earth.

The Slender One traipsed through the forest, with no real destination in mind. It stopped walking when It realized It was at the edge of an Elven village. Atop of a nearby house, It could see an Elf. It was sitting, deep in thought. The Slender One stood and watched the boy for a little while. It was also beautiful. Everything about it spoke of the Creator's skill, His ability to shape life in beautiful ways. As It turned away from the village, The Slender One spoke out softly, letting It's message resonating through the very essence of the air itself. It was not a thing to be heard, but to be felt. Good Night, Little One.

As It walked away from the village, It's thoughts turned back to the new visitors to The Forest. It made up It's mind to go out and find the visitors, with a little help from the trees, of course. It wasn't like It could ignore them: The trees were singing tonight.

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Lilian's first thought was that this was all just a horrible nightmare and she'd wake up with one hell of a hangover. That's what this had to be. A hellish and drunken dream. The only problem with her theory was that she couldn't remember drinking or taking anything, and she couldn't remember falling asleep. Also, for a dream it was oddly vivid and she could feel the blood falling from her forehead where she had hit her head on a rock. Or that's what she assumed happened. To be honest, Lily wasn't exactly sure of anything at the moment. All she knew for sure was that this place gave her the creeps. The wind was weird, the sky was weird, and it kind of smelled like cinnamon. But not really cinnamon. It was, like everything else, totally and completely...weird. And to top all the weirdness off, she was so hungry she was actually considering eating the tree bark. There was no way she was going to eat some unknown mushroom. That was just asking for trouble.

"God damn. Where the Hell am I?"

And more importantly, how did she get here in the first place? She couldn't remember much. Just that she and her friends had seen something weird. A rip in the air. No. That couldn't be right. The world didn't just rip like that. Not literally. She knew for a fact that she remembered light, a lot of light, surrounding her and pulling her in. She leaned her head against a tree and took a deep breath. There was no use panicking. That would get her absolutely no where and no where was freaking bad. A shiver down her spine brought goosebumps to her arms.

"There was a light at the end of the tunnel. That must mean I'm dead. Dead dead. Ceasing to live. If I am dead, this is hell...and oh God I'm talking to myself. I'm dead AND crazy."

It was in this moment, that she got horrible feeling in her stomach that the tree she was leaning against wasn't just a tree and the freakish wind wasn't just wind. Oh yeah. She definitely was dead and crazy. Now she only had to figure out what to do about it. Did she look around? Wait for her supposed dead loved ones? Look to see if her friends were dead and crazy too? Her friends had definitely seen that light and got pulled in with her. She kicked at the ground in frustration, along with a clearly frustrated scream. A frustrated scream that was similar to screaming into a pillow after a fight with a boyfriend or friend. Except this was the "I'm dead, crazy, and frustrated, so please someone come tell me what to do." scream.

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Character Portrait: Gabrielle G. Hunter Character Portrait: Lilian Ryder

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Gabrielle sat up. "Oh... my head hurts." Hold on, what happened? I can barely remember it... Suddenly, Gabrielle saw something in her mind's eye.
Following her friends through the woods, Gabrielle shouted, "I don't think this is so good! No, wait, hold on!" She just had some kind of feeling about the place, and it wasn't good. A flash of light followed, and Gabrielle panicked. Stumbling forward, she lunged through the white nothingness.
Dizziness. Gabrielle couldn't see anything except white, and her head was pounding. Whirling around, she tried to catch a glimpse of her friends. No such luck. Tripping and falling, Gabrielle's eyesight started to fade. Blinking, she tried to hold on to consciousness. The world made up it mind and shrank away to black.

Gabrielle's head hurt. Looking around, she spotted Lilian a short distance away. Getting up, she weaved her way through the trees and flora, finally standing in front of Lilian. "Hey. You okay?"

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Character Portrait: Aislin Marian Ash Character Portrait: Arwyn Oakstream Character Portrait: Neurian of the Whispering Willow Character Portrait: The Slender One

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Her father had begrudgingly accepted her decision and Arwyn knew that it wasn’t her father that was in need of convincing. Her mother was another story. Arwyn’s ears rang from her mother’s constant sobbing. Unlike her father, her mother had come out with a blatant ‘no’ and Arwyn expected no different. She would have never been able to go if not for the compromise she had made with Elder Gravefoot and the rest of the council. But that was a different matter all together.

“Spirits of Eyphah…I do not know what I have done that has displeased you…” Her mother prayer seeped past the walls to her room. Arwyn winced and bit her tongue. It was no use comforting her mother. She seemed to have submerged into a completely alternate world. Arwyn knew the extent of an Elfin’s sorrow. Because of the sensitive nature Elfins had, no other creature took tragedy worse than theirs. She knew only time could heal her mother now. And Arwyn’s ensured safety.

The compromise consisted of three parts. Firstly, a warrior Elfin at all times would accompany Arwyn. Six other warriors had been nominated onto the scout team, however Arwyn only recognized one name: Keagerian Swallowfield. But then, everyone knew The Swallow. He was legendary for not only his battle tactics but for his line of blood. His great grandfather, Majory the Rider, had led the fifth Mill-Hollow battle against the Lycans—and claimed a quick, decisive victory. Arwyn had read all about the Mill-Hollow battles in the Chronicles. Majory the Rider had been one of her all-time heroes; she couldn’t believe she would be in the presence of his great grandson. Keagerian had to be past his 700th summer now and despite her insecurities about the expedition, Arwyn could not wait to meet him.

The second condition had been to simply observe the new creatures, never to interact with them. Her sole job was the find out what these new species wanted and what threat they would be to the Elves without them finding out they were being followed. She had 3 weeks for this expedition—no more and no less. The Blood Moon began on the fourth week. Arwyn remembered shivering at this piece of information.

The last condition was so forcefully emphasized, Arwyn was almost taken aback. She didn’t understand why this condition had been presented in the first place, yet there it stood, chaining her curiosity. The third condition had been to never, on no grounds ever seek out The Slender One.

After she had spoken her oath of Truth, she had respectfully inquired conditions of her own.

“I would like to appoint two others companions. They would not be for my protection but for comfort. I would not feel comfortable…or complete without my friends.”

“This is not a game Arwyn Oakstream. This is a serious operation that demands the choicest caution.”

“I understand your thoughts Elder Bearflood. But my other two friends have just as much right to be on this expedition as I do.”
“And who are these mysterious friends of yours?”

“Aislin,” Arwyn started.

“Marian Ash is passed her 300th summer. She is powerful and skilled in her art. Yes I will allow her leave.” Elder Gravefoot left no room for discussion.

“And Neurian,” Arwyn finished slowly, calling them by their proper names.

“Of the Whispering Willow?” A member of the Council hissed, “He’s not yet passed his 100th summer!”

“It would be…unwise to send such an inexperienced Elfin to this mission.” Another reinforced.

“I agree.”


“But don’t you see?” Arwyn interrupted, “Little Wil—Neurian is in the same position as I am. He lost his brother a short while ago…yet he has been helpless to do anything about it. I am fortunate that I am at least able to help out our elfin brothers and sisters, but Neurian is unable to do so. I know Will. He’s mature and far beyond his years. I know he can do this.”

“I see where you’re coming from, sweet Oakstream. But do you believe it would be sage to bring a child along with your team? Would it not be burdensome not only to your teammates but also to Neurian himself? He has not yet mastered his craft, this all may be unhealthy exposure to such an innocent child.”

“The day Gywn died was the day I lost any illusion that things were going to get better. Will differs from the rest of the little’uns. That innocence has left him a while ago. Why not give Will the choice of coming with us?”

Elder Gravefoot sighed as he smiled in defeat. Arwyn Oakstream would not be moved.

“Gravefoot, you aren’t seriously considering her terms!”

“In truth, I am. Arwyn has a point. And young Neurian is not far from his 100th summer. Soon he will be able to attend the meetings. It is true that he has changed since his brother’s death. I do not believe bringing him along would harm the expedition.”

The argument had continued for sometime, but Arwyn came out of the meeting with a smile on her face.

Arwyn fidgeted on her bed. The Lights would fall soon. Tomorrow she would begin packing her things. They would be leaving in three days time. She couldn’t wait to tell Will and Ai the news.

Arwyn stood up and moved towards her window, sweeping her curtains aside. A soft wind caressed her face and her hair billowed outwards. It was a warm evening and the stars were just beginning to show. Arwyn looked across the village and for a second laid eyes in a figure in the distance.

A Lycan? A Vampire? Arwyn’s mind automatically thought in panic.

Then the figure loomed away, sinking away against the backdrop of the skyline.

Spirits of Eyphah, I beg your guidance and wisdom for this mission. Smile upon us.

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Character Portrait: Jocelyn Circe Hearth

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Jocelyn Circe Hearth

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Character Portrait: Jocelyn Circe Hearth

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Jocelyn Circe Hearth eating is good

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#, as written by Inno
Skull, covered in the richest of mahogany waves, pulled up from its bend. Eyes intent on pursuing after lightly traced, and childishly crooked claw lines along the dirt, rose to scan the tree-thickened woods with meek curiosity for any unknowns; ignorant to her existence. Repeatedly those poor misplaced and perplexed souls played along her tastebuds; teased, and taunted the already frenzied mind of the petite Eater. A split instants conclusion had her taking a sudden right, hands palmed at the roughened bark of bulky trees as she moved away from her beginning choice of destination, her humming limited only to the dark locations of her mind; stored for later.

“ Come now…” She whispered for her travelling companion, confident It would hear and follow. “Let us see what the creatures of this world have to say; what our Highest has to say.”
A hiss, hardly above a sigh, soon pressed its disagreement and irritation against her eardrums. Like It, she too was hungry, but, unlike her dear friend, she could not eat unless necessary.

An unexpected branch snap reasoned the figure to shift from her thoughts, and slow to a stop; her head canted slightly to the right, listening for more noise. With a childlike glare, It stepped to her side, reached for her inhumanly steady pinky, hooked a claw around the small digit, and pressed against her leg.

“Hm…” She listened to the forest. The markings along her entire body became palpable as whatever running through her veins heated over with interest. “Well now…”
It needed no invitation. Claws dug into pale flesh, into flowing gown, and the creature settled on her shoulder once more; hunger momentarily no longer for the unknowns, but instead for whatever lurked. It moaned with pain, and she blinked back from her mindless drift as the tip of her tongue ran its course along her dried lips; a mysterious smile pulling at them before she inhaled through flared nostrils.
Letting another second pass, the Eater stood sturdy still, watched with rare amusement as tree limbs and dark bark shifted, curled, and changed their shape right before her eyes. Whatever it was was hiding, prowling, and she had been so bored as of late.

With the smallest of huffs at her composed self, It wandered to her other shoulder impatiently, turned Its cranium back in hopes of catching another sound, and whined.
Her head tipped to its original upright position, before she began her soft humming once more for all to hear. Eventually, they -hiding- would step out.

Time was nothing to her.

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Character Portrait: Neurian of the Whispering Willow

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Neurian was falling asleep when something seemed to graze him. It wasn't harsh, but smooth, as if the wind was caressing him. In fact, Nero was sure of it: something had moved through the wind, and he felt it. What was weird was the way it felt, as if somebody was telling him something peaceful and quiet. It took him a few seconds to finally decipher what it felt like: Sleep. The feeling of good nights rest, perhaps? Nero shook his head, now completely clueless as to what was going on. He began to scan the forest, searching for whatever could have created such a soothing breeze, such a beautiful feeling. His eyes were having a hard time adjusting to the lack of light, and he almost passed over the creature that looked the most suspicious, and his eyes locked onto it after scanning over him once already.

A slender, tall, very interesting looking man, as it seemed. He wasn't like any creature he had ever seen, for it moved with too much grace to be a vampire, and was nowhere close to the size of a shapeshifter - that included werewolves. Neurian was mesmerized by its movements, how something so fragile looking could move with such grace and guidance, he hadn't a clue. His mind was set on one thing though, and that was that he was going to meet that fellow one day and talk to it, learning about what it was or why it looked the way it did. Nero was odd that way, for he normally disliked the idea of curiousity he always wanted to know about new people, no matter where they came from. A new elf moves in next door? Nero was building up the courage to talk to him, and so on.

When he finally snapped back to reality (aka when the slender being disappeared) Willow sighed in unhappiness and turned his ears back to the Meeting conversation, and all he could make out was something about inexperienced fighting and such. Neurian was slightly confused about this, as he wouldn't know of the person they were talking about, so he slowly started to tune them out once again, until he heard one line: Arwyn has a point. And young Neurian is not far from his 100th summer. Soon he will be able to attend the meetings. It is true that he has changed since his brother’s death. I do not believe bringing him along would harm the expedition.

Nero nearly blew his cover by falling off the roof in the most ungraceful way after hearing this. He slowly started sputtering to himself, wondering what kind of expedition they would want to take a kid such as him on. Then he slowly fit the pieces together, and he was nearly torn a part with indecision. He had heard about these expeditions for this new species, but he wasn't sure if he would be suitable to go. He had just wanted to stealthily follow the group, see the creatures and then return unharmed. So why would Arwyn suggest him to go on a dangerous expedition?! She knew of his inability to fight, not to mention his complete hesitation when it came to even grabbing his staff. And yet she thought because his brother Cailan died that he would be fine?!

Neurian noticed his father coming out of the meeting and quickly scurried back insde to his room. Didn't want his parents to notice him on the roof and give him a scolding. He entered back through the window and threw himself onto the bed, sleep avoiding him. He kept thinking of reoccuring events of things that he had gone on, and (lets face it) he messed up every time. Everybody always said that his optimism was his strongest point, and yet he had no self confidence in his own abilities. He returned the stare from the ceiling, and only fell asleep when he remembered the caress of the wind and the strange figuring whispering to him: Good Night, Little One