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Lady Raven Jggidorrry Anima Spuds The Philosopher |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Sep 30 2013, 01:12 AM (1,577 Views) | |
| Tasha the Gypsy | Sep 30 2013, 01:12 AM Post #1 |
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Reema sat on a small boulder high on the mountainside. She often came to the grazing lands to calm herself down after having another argument with Gand, the elder of Ranae. Reema was not a member of the small mountain village of Ranae, but she spent much of her time there since it was one of the only villages with grazing lands so high in the mountains. As Reema sat on the rock, she watched four or five graceful unicorns slowly wander over the field of grass below her, each looking for the best spot to graze on the sweet grass of the mountains. She was seated so far away form them that she could only distinguish them by their blue horns, which shone out like sapphires against the dark green of the grass. After a short time, Reema tired of watching the unicorns, and took out her favorite stiletto. She began to sharpen it, watching as the light from the fading sun glinted off the blade and the three small red stones set in the hilt of the slim dagger.
Edited by Tasha the Gypsy, Oct 4 2013, 01:34 PM.
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| Tasha the Gypsy | Dec 30 2013, 06:29 PM Post #41 |
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Reema's narrowed eyes ran over Kail'tor, taking in every detail of his huge form. She had heard of centaurs, but they were only myths; legends that were told at night around the fire. How could one be standing in front of her at this moment? She listened carefully as he spoke, not missing a word, finally looking up to meet his eye. "You say there is more to tell?" She asked, still cautious but curious at his words. Besides, if he was following her companions will ill intentions, then it would be best to stall him as long as possible. A man, taller then most of the other inhabitants of the small village, stepped forward. He had apparently just entered the square from a building not far away. His short dark hair and darkly tanned complexion made his bright, piercing blue eyes stand out, looking as if he could see straight into your heart. His expression was serious, but his mouth looked as if it were more used to a smile than the firm look it had now. "Greetings strangers." he said in a quiet tone, though his deep voice resounded through the small square allowing everyone to hear what he was saying, "I am Gand, elder of Renae. May I ask what brings you to our small village?" Edited by Tasha the Gypsy, Dec 30 2013, 06:52 PM.
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| The Inkweaver | Dec 30 2013, 06:48 PM Post #42 |
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Moraenor had only just identified the strange sound (strange, at least, in this context) as the laughter of children when three of them emerged from among the buildings--headed straight for the newcomers. Laurel watched the girl tumble straight into Moraenor's leg, where she huddled, clinging to his knees in fear. Moraenor, for his part, flinched visibly, and raised his arms as if he didn't want to touch this small person. The muddy boys following her immediately recalled the Respertians Molotto and Gokken to mind--Laurel smiled at the memory of the rambunctious, irrepressible pygmies. Moraenor looked up when he heard Laurel snort, and saw her vainly trying to cover a laugh. The boys stared up at him as if he had horns or skin of some unnatural hue, and the girl still clung to him so tightly he could feel her trembling still. He shot a glance at Laurel. "What?" he muttered. Laurel turned her head to watch a few anxious parents approach slowly. Her lips parted, and a small chuckle escaped as she maintained, "Nothing!" Moraenor huffed and tried to move away from the girl. She clung to him still. "Laurellll," he moaned with a pained expression. She only watched him, her multi-colored eyes dancing. "What? You're a natural. Come now, you weren't so uncomfortable with me all those years ago!" she teased. "That was a duty!" Moraenor retorted. He looked down and met the gaze of the small girl who finally looked up at him. Her cheeks flushed, and she released him and ran away into the arms of her mother. Just then, a man nearly as tall as Moraenor emerged from a nearby building and approached them in the center of the square. Laurel noted that the other villagers regarded him as some sort of leader. Was this the elder they sought? "Greetings strangers." he said in a quiet tone, though his deep voice resounded through the small square allowing everyone to hear what he was saying, "I am Gand, elder of Renae. May I ask what brings you to our small village?" Laurel sighed with relief and stepped forward. "Elder Gand," she nodded respectfully, "I bring greetings from one called Tara, whom we met in the Plains outside this valley. We have come from... far away," Laurel watched the man's face as she laid heavy emphasis on those words, hoping he would understand that inter-dimensional travel was possible, and they had experienced it through no fault of their own, "And respectfully seek a private audience with you." Edited by The Inkweaver, Dec 30 2013, 06:53 PM.
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| Tasha the Gypsy | Dec 31 2013, 04:57 PM Post #43 |
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Gand listened as the woman with the unusual eyes spoke. "Elder Gand," she nodded respectfully, "I bring greetings from one called Tara, whom we met in the Plains outside this valley. We have come from... far away,and respectfully seek a private audience with you." His expression never changed, though he caught the emphasis she put on the words 'far away'. His piercing gaze was moving from one member of the group to the next, nothing about them escaping his notice. Finally his eyes came back to rest on Laurel. "I know of no one by the name of Tara." He said, in the same quiet but resounding voice, "But I have never refused audience to anyone who is troubled, as I can see you are. Come with me." A young woman stopped Gand as he turned, putting her hand on his arm. "Elder Gand. These people, we don't know who they are or," She glanced at the strange clothing of Laurel and her friends, "Where they came from. Why have they come here, giving us the name of someone we have never heard of?" She was about to say more when Gand stopped her. "Silence Mira. These people mean us no harm, I can see." The woman, apparently Mira, still looked suspiciously at the three strangers, but Gand's words had seemed to reassure her. She let go of his arm and he continued to the building he had emerged from. The outside of the building was unobtrusive grey stone, flecked with deep blue, but as you passed through the door it transformed. The walls same stone, but the supports were made of a dark, reddish wood which was finely and delicately carved to resemble trees. If you looked up you could see the carving continue to the ceiling, then branch out, seemingly as if the carved leaves formed the roof. All the furniture in the room was as finely and delicately worked as the supports, and all were made of the same dark wood. Gand had stopped just inside the door, standing to the side to let the others pass. |
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| The Inkweaver | Dec 31 2013, 05:11 PM Post #44 |
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Laurel followed Gand into the building. The fact that he did not know Tara troubled her--but at least he hadn't used it as an excuse to drive them out of the village! When they crossed the threshold, Laurel looked around and gasped. Trees! The room reminded her of the cave in Beilon--how far away it all seemed now! She stopped, and Moraenor and Renata moved around her to the chairs indicated by their hosts. Laurel was lost in a reverie. A tingling warmth seeped from her chest all the way to her toes. Instinctively, she knew the stone must be glowing, but she didn't care. Suddenly, she didn't feel afraid or out of place here; she felt welcome, at home. She sat in the nearest chair, noting the way thin tendrils of the tree branches uncurled and nudged themselves against her hands, right before her eyes. The carved leaves turned from woody brown to fresh-sprouted green. Laurel cast a wary glance at Gand, who still stared at her with the same piercing eyes. He had demonstrated trust in her--now it was time to return the favor. She reached into her tunic and pulled out the green stone, which was glowing brightly. Laurel glanced briefly upward, as the glittering reflection of the stone upon the carved canopy seemed to turn the leaves into real, growing things. Along with it came the old familiar whisper, Help us... Save him... Help us.... Save him... "Do you know what this is, and what it means?" Laurel asked the elder softly. |
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| Amaurea | Jan 5 2014, 07:37 PM Post #45 |
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Andolla
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As the three elven folk made their way inside of the building, and out of site of the hawk, Rune thought it best to return to his master, especially to check on the progress he was making with the other female Rune had seen. dipping his wing, the hawk banked a sharp left and headed away from the small town. But he caught a glimpse of some strange dark shapes in the cliffs, and his curious nature spiked. Perhaps Kail'tor could do without him for a little longer. He wanted to investigate The skepticism never once left the girl's eyes. But Kail'tor was a patient being. He wasn't quite sure if she should be troubled with everything he wished to tell. Though she looked able enough to handle herself out in the wild, she didn't look the part of a military or social leader. Though, again, he tried not to judge. Resting on his little knowledge of other people wouldn't be enough to get him through his journey. So, almost reluctantly he continued. Dark forces are gathering. I know not the nature or the number of them, but their purpose is clear. The world is ripe for war. Kingdoms and people are divided. Even now I see the fear and distrust in your eyes. A growing paranoia is constantly spreading. The Centuar was unsure weather Reema would be offended by his words, but it didn't matter. They had to be spoken. He shook his head with a huff and a frown. Dangerous beasts are becoming bolder. I watched your battle with the wolves. Such creatures use to hold some things sacred, but their hearts are becoming darker, and so the hearts of men. We are not the only ones who have seen these signs, and that is why the shadows move, even now. He wished badly, for an audience with someone who might know more of the material happenings in the land. Everything he could speak of was merely speculation, vague, and incomplete. I must learn more before I can continue. Please, if you, or anyone you know could help. An incomplete warning is often more dangerous than no warning at all. Be still! ... I'edra hissed to the rustling, feathered beast beside her. It never bothered the ebony skinned, elven creature, that her companion could crush her without a second though. He wouldn't dare. Blowing some silvery white hair out of her strange violet eyes, the lithe creature perched atop a rocky outcropping, tiredly watching the horse beast and his chosen conversation partner. I'edra sighed in annoyance, and suddenly spun around, glaring at the beast behind her. Bloody crimson eyes peered indifferently back. We won't find out anything until he finds someone of real importance to talk to. This is pointless! With a growling puff of air, the large griffin laid his head on his large talonned paws. She was so impatient. With irritation tenting her violet gaze, the Drow turned back to her observation, but became startled as the griffin jerked his head upward. What is it now The'll? Without warning, The'll's powerful beak clamped down on I'edra's tunic and yanked her down behind the rocks she'd been standing atop. The large creature hissed softly, and the Drow's slowly lifting eyes caught sight of the Centuar's hawk circling over head. They'd tried endlessly to stay out of site of the irritating winged scout for days. Now, it seemed as if their cover was almost blown. Soundlessly, the two remained as still as statues, waiting for the bird to loose interest and return to his master. |
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"In sleep dreams embody our hopes and our future, but when dreams escape into reality, they become nightmares" | |
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| Tasha the Gypsy | Jan 20 2014, 08:41 PM Post #46 |
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Reema evaluated everything the centaur said to her carefully. Finally relaxing slightly she nodded, as if she had decided to trust him... For now at least. "I know what you say is true. Evil seems to be more rampant than I have ever seen it. What do you wish to know?" She asked. ~~ Gand came forward extending his hand towards the vibrant green stone slightly before pulling it back and crossing his arms. His expression flickered for a moment to interest, and almost amazement, but it quickly reverted back. "This stone you carry, you don't know of it?" He asked, "It is one of several." He watched her face carefully as he continued, "There is a legend in this land of these stones, though I never thought it to be true. It was told that there were many of them once, each of a different color; green, blue, white, red... Yet none of them have been seen, or used, in hundreds of years. they were thought to be lost if not entirely mythical. How came you by this?" |
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| The Inkweaver | Jan 21 2014, 02:47 PM Post #47 |
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Laurel's pulse quickened as she listened to the wise elder's words. A stone, magic in one world, plain in another... one of several... How then had Athelron obtained it? "A friend gave it to me, in my own world," she explained to him. "One day, it began to glow, and suddenly we found ourselves here in Terrarum. You say there are more of these? What are they for? What do the voices mean?" The words tumbled out of her mouth like water from a spring. The stone seemed to sense her agitation, and the newly-verdant branches crawled and extended tendrils of ivy, enclosing them in a lush green bower. Laurel felt Moraenor lay a hand on her shoulder, and she leaned back, breathing deeply to compose herself. She tried again, slower this time. "Ever since I have come to Terrarum, every time the stone glows, I can... hear the grass and trees. Is this a normal occurrence?" |
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| The Inkweaver | Jan 24 2014, 02:38 PM Post #48 |
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She crouched in a small thicket, eyeing the circling hawk. Her keen eyes of deepest green tracked its movements carefully. The flight pattern suggested it had seen something in the cliffs high above. She watched the hawk wheel, and stared at the location under its center. There! A slight tremor, but whether it was hair, fur, or cloth she could not see. The wind ruffled her unruly auburn hair. Silently, she willed that breeze to carry up and disturb the cliff's occupant once more. No sooner had she made the wish than she had to step back quickly, for the bush she had been crouching over caught flame. Swiftly, she stamped it out with her boot. Drawing her cloak closer around her, she resumed watching the cliff. At last! Like a reward from heaven, she saw a single object lift from the outcropping and float toward her on the obliging breeze. As it wafted within her reach, she snatched it and examined it closely. A griffin-feather; how quaint. No one had seen the griffins rumored to live among these peaks for several generations. Now apparently one had arrived. What could it mean? She tucked the feather gently in her side pouch and turned her attention to the quiet town beside her. |
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| Tasha the Gypsy | Jan 24 2014, 07:52 PM Post #49 |
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Gand shook his head as he leaned back against a pillar. "I'm afraid I can only tell you what I have heard in my studies of these stones. Not many people who know of them are alive anymore." He reached over and picked up a long stemmed wooden pipe from his desk and lit it before continuing. The smoke from the pipe lent a pleasantly sweet, unidentifiable scent in the air. "This stone you carry, it fits the description of the Treestone. It was said that the bearer of that stone controlled all the growing things around it; trees, grass, plants. Also it was said the bearers of the other stones could communicate through the elements. As it is, I do not know if the legends are true, but from what you have told me it seems as if it is." He continued watching Laurel as the smoke curled up from the carved bowl of the pipe. |
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| The Inkweaver | Jan 25 2014, 12:07 AM Post #50 |
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Laurel pondered his words as she stroked a winding tendril near her arm. The hissing whisper resonated from within it. Save him... Help us... Save him... "The voice I hear is of one who begs me to save someone. How can I--" Laurel glanced up at the pipe-smoking elder and sensed that here was a question he could not know the answer to. Instead, she looked out the window. The sun rested among the tallest mountain peaks, and the shadows had already begun to gather. She turned back to Gand. "Thank you for your kind assistance toward us. May we rest here for the night, and confer over what is to be done in the morning?" |
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| Amaurea | Jan 25 2014, 10:48 PM Post #51 |
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Andolla
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Kail'tor paused for a moment, sensing the girl relaxing somewhat. He too, allowed his shoulders to drop just a bit. Still something pressed on the back of his mind. Regardless, this human before him was willing to help. But how could she? As previously mentioned, she didn't look the part of someone in a knowing position. With a frown etching itself into his face he considered. Perhaps those who weren't in positions of power, held more understanding of the nature of things than those sheltered by responsibility. People like Reema could pass in and out of others' stories, learning them and understanding them without notice. She probably knew more than he thought. With another relenting sigh, ending the internal argument with himself the Centuar considered the best questions to ask. Finally, he spoke. Other than the natural signs, have you heard of anything strange happening? Places of peace suddenly being disrupted, or ruling factions threatening to make war with others? Even small rumors of such things might give me some kind of starting point. Ambiguous. He closed his eyes with a solid frown. These things were never easy to tract down, and, Kail'tor had half a mind to think that few people would listen or believe him. Perhaps the stars would have more to say. Perhaps events would speak for themselves, but he hoped the messages wouldn't cost too many lives. I'm sorry to be so va-- Rune's cry overshadowed anything the Centuar was about to say. Like a black arrow, the hawk darted over head calling out a quick warning. Kail'tor's suspicions were confirmed. They were being watched. Without hesitation, the creature positioned himself between Reema and the adjacent cliffs. We need to move. The careful nature his voice assumed when first talking to the girl faded quickly. Now the Centuar's muscles tensed, prepared to defend the one who'd stopped to listen to him, and to fight who, or what ever had been tracking them. His right hand slowly lifted to the hilt jutting out from behind his back, poised to be used. Well, that went well. I'edra muttered as she watched the hawk note his discovery and wheel around, back to his master. The time for waiting was over. She'd hoped to forgo a face-to-face confrontation with the massive Centuar, but apparently fate had another idea in mind. She wasn't particularly afraid of him, but she had common sense enough to know her chances against him were rather slim. But that's why I got you with me, right? The Drow said, peering over her shoulder at the Griffin. She frowned when all the creature did was yawn and sink his head down again. She hissed under her breath and turned back to the open plains. The sun sank low over the hills afar off. Darkness began to take back the ground it had lost during the day, and she felt the power darkness granted her. She felt safe and comforted in shadow, but, so did most of her kind. Well then, let's go. Nearly unseen now, against the darkening backdrop of rock, the Drow soundlessly slipped down the mountain side. The sound of bursting wend signaled Thell's ascension into the sky. Good, she was covered from above now. With speed, I'edra stealthily wove her way through the tallest of grass, keeping her fading form low to the ground. The expanse of low hills wasn't exactly an ideal place to pursue a target, but it would have to do. All she needed now was a line of sight, at a decent distance, just enough to line up a shot. The sleek bow on her back almost quavered with anticipation. She did not easily miss. |
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"In sleep dreams embody our hopes and our future, but when dreams escape into reality, they become nightmares" | |
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| Tasha the Gypsy | Jan 31 2014, 10:12 PM Post #52 |
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Gand leaned back against the pillar he was standing next to, smoking thoughtfully for a few more moments, then answered her unfinished question with one of his own. "This voice in your head, asking for help. Is it louder at times? If you are near a living being, or when the wind is blowing, or next to water? Of course you may stay, though I cannot say if you will be welcome. Mira has two or three rooms to spare, and she is very kind if and when she gets over her initial suspicion of you." ~~ A long dagger immediately appeared in Reema's hand as she dodged to the side, into a small fringe of trees. She glanced at the white stone in the top of her short staff as it glowed, then to the centaur. "Take cover, something is above us." She called, though trying to keep her voice from carrying, "Something big." |
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| The Inkweaver | Jan 31 2014, 10:34 PM Post #53 |
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Renata sighed as she rolled over on her sleeping mat. The woman called Mira had indeed let them stay, but--just as Gand had warned--only grudgingly so. Night fell, and very soon, Renata could hear the soft breathing of her friends. Sleep did not come so easily to the young woman. Every time she closed her eyes, all she could think of were her mother and father, her brother Andron and sister Jenya--did they wonder where they had gone? Or perhaps her world had frozen in time, and they would return to the same moment they left... If they returned at all. Renata stirred. There was something happening. Laurel's mentioning of the voices had disturbed her and Moraenor considerably. Elder Gand hadn't been able to provide answers, and Laurel's reticence wasn't helping anything. She closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind and think only of sleeping. I am waiting... Renata heard the voice before she was fully awake. She opened her eyes. The room around her was dark. She could hear the soft breathing of the two Elves. The petite redhead rolled over in an attempt to achieve a more comfortable position—and then she saw it: the flames of a bonfire. Who would be lighting a fire so late at night? Rather than lull her to sleep, the sight of a warm blaze made Renata more curious and more awake. She rose and threw her cloak about her, padding softly to the outer edge of Renae, toward the bonfire. When she arrived, there was no one in sight. It was a bonfire, blazing on its own. Renata stopped and looked around. “Hello.” The young woman gave a small cry and leaped backwards as a voice sounded very near her ear. There was a woman standing next to her, with silky auburn hair and piercing green eyes, dressed in a long, dark gown and wearing a heavy cloak. She stood about as tall as Laurel—perhaps even nearing Moraenor in height, and she smiled at Renata. “What is your name?” the woman asked. “Renata,” answered the frightened young lady—the answer just slipped out of her mouth before she could remind herself to be careful. The woman nodded, as one who meant no harm and could be trusted. “I am called Credna. Did you come from Renae?” Renata nodded, watching Credna carefully. “I saw the fire from the house where I was sleeping. Were you the one singing?” Credna watched the fire tenderly. Her lips twitched in answer. “After a fashion,” she replied. “Though a more honest answer would be to say that it was the fire itself that sang.” Renata stared for quite some time to assess if Credna was being serious or not. Credna saw her skepticism and nodded toward the fire. “Watch,” she said. At last, Renata noticed that Credna wore a Stone around her neck: it glowed bright orange, and flickered in time with the flames. Credna made a slight gesture toward the fire, and Renata heard the music begin again, louder this time. The tongues of flame truly did sing, a chorus of voices ringing out into the night. Renata smiled, “That is wonderful!” she breathed. “Do you know what else?” Credna whispered, leaning close to Renata’s side. “This is a magic sort of fire. It allows you to go many places. All you have to do is open a portal with the Firestone, and a person can pass into one fire and out another.” Renata couldn’t tear her gaze away from the dancing, singing flames. The way Credna spoke stirred her sense of adventure like nothing ever had. She fairly quivered with excitement. “Really?” she asked. “Do you want to try it?” Credna offered. “I can keep you perfectly safe. And wherever there is flame, we can speak with one another, so that I can always help you get back when you want to return.” Renata did not even think twice before she nodded. “Yes!” Credna stood and placed a hand over the Firestone. It seemed to the young redhead that the flames pulled back from the center, and she could see a dark circle opening in their midst. Through the portal, Renata saw another field, quite different from the one she stood in now, and a road nearby. It really was another place. Slowly, step by step, she inched toward the blaze. She stepped over the ring of fire in front of the portal, but the flames didn’t burn her. She didn’t even feel more than an instant of warmth, and then the cool darkness of nighttime on the other side. >>>>>>> Credna watched the flames close after Renata—just as the Seer had told her when he gave her the Firestone. The girl with the crown of flames (or flame-colored hair, she reasoned) would pass through the fire-portal and bring healing. Credna only hoped the healing would arrive in time to save the life it was meant for. Credna blew softly on the fire, and the blaze died down to embers, and then to ash. With a sweep of her hand, Credna released the cinders to the wind. By the time the dust settled, she had vanished, and there was no evidence that Credna or the fire had been there at all. >>>>>>> |
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| The Inkweaver | Feb 1 2014, 05:11 PM Post #54 |
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Laurel arose with the sun shining brightly through the window into her eyes. She stretched and yawned. After the intensity of the day, sleep had been both welcome and deep. She sat up as Moraenor stirred, and looked over to where Renata lay. Renata’s sleeping mat lay empty. Laurel tensed briefly, and leaned over to feel the blanket. It was cold to the touch. She gasped. “What is it?” Moraenor asked. “We need to find Gand,” Laurel said, fighting to keep a clear head in spite of the fear clutching at her heart. “Renata is gone!” Moraenor blinked sleep from his eyes and watched his younger ward. “She probably rose early. It’s no cause for alarm. We have nothing to fear here in Renae.” Laurel was already on her feet. “No, Mori,” she insisted. “The blankets are cold. Wherever she went, she left her bed long before dawn. Where would a young woman go in the middle of the night in a strange place?” She buckled her grandfather’s sword at her side. “I don’t know if she was taken or she wandered away, but whatever the case, we must find her!” The two Elves marched out of the small hut and returned to the dwelling of Elder Gand. The whispering leaves still twined around the walls and climbed out of the windows. "Gand!" Laurel cried desperately, "Please help us! My young friend is missing, and she needs to be found! Is there somewhere she could have gone, some way we can find her?" Edited by The Inkweaver, Feb 1 2014, 05:12 PM.
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| Amaurea | Feb 2 2014, 02:47 AM Post #55 |
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Andolla
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Zing! Something sleek and dark darted off into the black, far too close to Kail'tor's side for comfort. His inhuman eyes scanned the bristling field of grass for any signs of movement. The light at this time of day played tricks on one's eyes, and so it was now. The wind did little to help his tracking skills. Quickly bounding forward, he leaped for the small thicket Reema had found refuge in, though his greater instinct kicked in and again, almost subconsciously, he made sure his body would absorb any incoming projectiles before they had a chance to strike the smaller person. Though, from what he saw, and had seen, she looked ready and able to protect herself. I won't tell you to stay calm... The Centuar whispered over his shoulder to Reema. Shaking his head slightly he huffed silently. I suppose it wasn't completely out of the question for me to be followed. His eyes peered with distaste at the sky and he grumbled softly to himself, taking a few side steps deeper into the tree line. A dark shape loomed over head, though, from this distance, it only seemed the size of a bird. Kail'tor felt it much larger. We weren't shot at from the air... He mused silently to himself, then started slightly as another wizzing sound reached his ears from the right. There are two of them. One to the right, and one ... up there. He said, jerking his head upwards in some direction near the flying beast circling them. The Centuar could only guess where Rune had gotten off to, but he knew the hawk was too smart to fly straight for his master. That would give their precise position away. But it didn't matter what the little hawk did. Drow were notorious for thriving in the night. Why wouldn't they have excellent night vision? It wasn't difficult for her to pick out the living creatures amid the contrasting foliage. But she couldn't kill either of them. They might know something. With arrow notched and aimed at the Centuar's hind right leg, (the easiest, nonlethal target), she peered up at the griffin above, giving him the signal he probably wasn't really looking forward too. Nevertheless Thell's reaction to the look from the ground lacked any sense of hesitation. Without pause, he tucked his ebony wings close to his side and dove like a cannon ball, straight for the thicket of trees, sending forth a lancing cry ahead of him. With front talons jutting out before him, his crimson eyes settled on the being behind Kail'tor, the young woman Reema. |
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"In sleep dreams embody our hopes and our future, but when dreams escape into reality, they become nightmares" | |
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| Amaurea | Mar 8 2014, 02:56 AM Post #56 |
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Andolla
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The arrow buzzed uncomfortably close to Kail'tor's shoulder, and for that brief moment, it caught him off guard. Before he had time to think about his actions, the screaming griffin rocketed toward the two, and the Centaur had barely enough time to rear up and take the brunt force upon himself. He lashed out savagely with his two front hooves as he came round with his massive two handed weapon. The clawing, snapping bird creature reeled back in surprise, and in his recoil, the blade's edge made sharp contact with the griffin's black feathered chest. The resulting cries only drove the Centaur on further. Without pause, the blade whirled round and came down again upon the attacking creature. Kail'tor's goal was simply to drive it away, in order to focus on the archer. However, it seemed as if the archer already had clear focus on him. As the Griffin retreated, keeping its delicate wings tucked protectively against its sides, yet another arrow streaked through the night air and finally made contact with its intended destination. Startled, Kail'tor glanced behind him and narrowed his eyes upon the projectile now protruding out of his front upper leg. But arrows weren't too important. Even still, his focus drew itself to the infliction just long enough for the Griffin to leap upon him again. The swift flurry of motion resulted in another deep wound on the griffin's side, and a bloody breach in the Centaur's left forearm from his assailant's large sharp beak. Driving his sword further outward, he huffed in both pain and frustration as the creature turned and fled into the sky. Thankfully, no more arrows flew his way, but the one already within him began to hurt far more than any normal arrow had business to. With a wince of agony, he looked down at the mangled wound upon his arm with disgust. He'd have to tend to that. Turning, he looked around for Reema, and realized she was no where to be found. Well, at least he'd kept her safe. That still left his warning, but for now, he needed to rest and take care of his injuries. Though, even as he put pressure on his injured front leg, the world began to spin and the night became impossibly blacker. With slow and steady strides, the Centaur started the short journey to the near by village. Though, even at he made his way, his steps became increasingly unstable and his vision began to swirl with strange grays and dull hues. Slipping his sward away with a wince, his glassy eyes saw the lights or Reni closer than he had first thought, and he even thought he caught a hint of firelight to the side..... The low wall and gate to the village greeted him. The night watchmen must have seen him. He would have to explain his presence, but before he could make it any closer to the village's gate, he felt the dull thud of his body hit the hard ground. Muttering a curse to himself, he considered the situation. Nothing had broken in his fall, so that was a good thing, but where as a man could lay for hours on his side, a horse was never meant to be in such a position, and as the night dragged on, he began to find it more difficult to breath. Slowly though, his mind gave into the pain from the arrow, and he lost himself to unconsciousness. Rune had been circling overhead, keeping an eye on his master's tottering wondering, however, when the large creature fell, the hawk knew he couldn't waste time in checking on him. As dawn approached and the sun began to revisit the sky, Rune glided over the little town, eyes trained on every person, looking patiently for the elven people. If anyone could help his master with the strange injury he'd been afflicted with, they could. And there they were, just entering a building. And, just before the door closed, the hawk darted within the darkened inclosure and perched among the rafters, listening and eying Laurel with a serious side-wayse glance. |
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"In sleep dreams embody our hopes and our future, but when dreams escape into reality, they become nightmares" | |
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| The Inkweaver | Mar 8 2014, 01:22 PM Post #57 |
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Laurel looked up as someone screamed. Gand seemed not to have heard her, and she had more pressing matters than an elder who wouldn't respond. She ran outside. In a heap at the entrance to Renae, she saw what looked like a man and a horse--but as she drew closer, Laurel saw that the man and the horse were two parts of the same creature. It was the andefelde from the plains! A dark-shafted arrow protruded from his shoulder, and his arm was red with blood from a gash. The sides of his horse-body heaved ominously. Not only was he bleeding out, but he was suffocating as well. Laurel acted fast, relying on the teachings of healing she had been taught back home--how far away it all seemed now! "Quickly!" She shouted to some of the scared villagers nearby. "Help me lean him upright!" It took four men to heave the massive body of the steed to a more comfortable position, but the andefelde's torso lolled dangerously. "We need to get his head supported," Laurel dispense instructions as a way of keeping calm. "And these wounds must be bound." She hesitated to move the arrow; what if it was poisoned? But the longer the tip remained buried in his body, the greater risk he could die from infection. Talatha--the healing herb of Andar--could both neutralize the poison and protect against infection. Laurel pulled out the arrow quickly as a few women brought bandages and reached into the pouch at her side. Empty. Her heart stopped. She turned to look at Moraenor with terror in her multi-colored eyes. "Renata," She gasped. "We cannot heal this andefelde without talatha, and I lent my tin to Renata. Wherever she is now, she has the only means by which to save this creature." Moraenor looked around at the crowd. "Are there any healers among you? This poor soul is dying, and he must be saved! Hurry!" |
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| Amaurea | Mar 8 2014, 08:24 PM Post #58 |
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Andolla
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A great pressure lifted and the Centaur's dormant figure took in a great gasp of air, followed by a jolting cough. It took a good while for his mind to begin processing the strange voices. They sounded small and distant, unintelligible. The question of his location caused Kail'tor to instinctively lift his right arm, in order to retrieve his weapon. However, the resulting pain stopped this current venture. After another short moment he realized he was now sitting upright and still breathing. Figuring the people around him weren't dangerous, the Centaur opened his eyes. He suddenly clinched them shut when the sharp daytime light pierced him, and only after some moments had past did he try again. His cautiously opening eyes found the distraught face of an elven girl, vaguely familiar to him, though, he couldn't place his last memory of her. Ah, the field. She'd been with the others, fighting wolves and saving unicorns. Glancing about, he caught a glimpse of his faithful companion, perched on a wall, overlooking the situation skeptically. Subconsciously Kail'tor took note of his condition. The arrow still lodged itself in his upper shoulder, and still posed as the origin of the most painful injury. A clean white bandage now twined snugly about his left forearm, stopping the excessive bleeding there. Slowly, he felt his sense of balance coming back to him. Furthermore, he'd apparently, subconsciously folded his legs naturally beneath him. Once true balance came back to him, support wouldn't be much needed, especially now that he was conscious. With breathing no longer posing a threat, the Centaur figured he'd better thank these people for their kindness. Slowly, gathering his recovering wits about him, Kail'tor smiled as painlessly as he could and finally spoke to the elf girl. ...Thank you- He fell silent abruptly, startled at the parched nature of his naturally rich voice. Coughing again, he cleared his throat and shook his head before continuing. My attackers won't be bold enough to come here... especially during daylight. He attempted to be reassuring, but deep down, he knew his presence here, might be dangerous for those around him. Reema was proof of that. Hopefully he could be on his way by nightfall. This thought reminded him of the arrow, and, with care, he lifted his left hand and gently brushed his fingers against the black shaft with practiced accuracy. Finding the arrow's shaft to be less solid than first anticipated, Kail'tor made note of the markings carefully engraved into the wooden projectile. An ancient tongue, he could gather, but not much else. Considering such an omen, the Centaur figured the best course of action would be to remove the projectile and hope to find a cure for what ever the arrow held in it's tip. Until it had been removed, and he had a bit more balance, Kail'tor thought it best to remain seated on the ground. He didn't want to risk falling again. Falling was never good for a Centaur. Might you, perhaps... help me get this arrow out? He felt unsure of his left handed strength at the moment, and even so, arrows didn't come out, as easily as they went in. A thin smile came to his face for a moment as his mind played on memories much like this one. Taking hold of the shaft, he slowly rotated it clockwise and winced. Try turning it the other direction, and let us hope the tip hasn't broken off. That wouldn't be very pleasant. He said with a somewhat strained chuckle. |
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"In sleep dreams embody our hopes and our future, but when dreams escape into reality, they become nightmares" | |
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| The Inkweaver | Mar 8 2014, 09:34 PM Post #59 |
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Laurel watched the andefelde carefully. He seemed quiet enough, wounded as he was--yet Laurel could only imagine how dangerous a being with the strength of a man and the stamina of a horse could be. Now he asked her to remove the arrow. Indeed, he seemed in the very act of removing it himself. That ruled out any kind of poison, she reasoned. Laurel winced as the blood spurted from around the shaft. "I don't know," She replied, placing a gentle hand on the shoulder. "I had left it because I wasn't sure it would be safe to remove it." Deftly, with skill and precision that would have made her teacher Eurilla beam with pride, Laurel turned the arrow so that the head rested in the open wound and drew it out. The andefelde seemed interested in the projectile, so Laurel left it in his hands. She moved to talk with Moraenor. "We can't stay here much longer," She murmured. "Every minute we remain is a minute that Renata's life could be in danger." "There's not much we can do about that," Moraenor reminded her. "We don't know where she has gone, and we have no means of travel but our own feet." "That's about what Renata had, as far as we know," Laurel retorted, then returned to the wounded andefelde. "Please," she begged him, "Among my people your kind are spoken of as powerful beings with great wisdom and the capacity for magic. Is this true? Because a very dear friend of mine has just gone missing, and I am desperate to find her. Can you help me discover where she has gone, or do you have a means of travel that my friend and I can use?" |
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| Amaurea | Mar 8 2014, 11:02 PM Post #60 |
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Andolla
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Kail'tor bit down the urge to growl in pain as the arrow was removed. Doing so might startle the girl, furthering his pain with the arrow's needless movement. But at last the deed was done, and he looked down skeptically at the projectile with narrowed eyes. Indeed, he already felt a little better knowing the thing was no longer in his body. But there was only one way to know for sure if the arrow was meant to kill him or not. Lowering his head and closing his eyes, Kail'tor breathed a few strange words. If Moraenor caught the ancient syllables, he might recognize them as a very old, and very seldom used elvish. Furthermore, roughly interpreted, Kail'tor was speaking a phrase meant to reveal the unseen. Sure enough, a few seconds later, silver lines darted across the arrow's shaft, forming glinting symbols. The Centaur held the shaft up and peered at it in contemplation. After a brief moment, he sighed in relief, and suddenly snapped the object in two, issuing a strange crackling hiss from the projectile. With a jolt, as if released from someone's grip, Kail'tor dropped the pieces to the ground and relaxed his shoulders as the remains flickered and vanished. That's troublesome... He murmured, almost to himself, before remembering the others, and more so, the young elf's plight. Blinking a few times and clearing his head of the recent events, he looked at her thoughtfully. His eyes became almost piercing, almost searching. Something about her drew his attention more than other beings. His curiosity finally found rest when his eyes fell upon a very familiar yet rarely seen object around Laural's neck. Possibly longer than he'd intended, his eyes lingered. Clearing his throat again he spoke, somewhat urgently and without regard for the tension of those around him. Do you have any idea on how she's gone missing? A trimmer rippled through the large being and he closed his eyes, seconds before they began to brim with dull light. Slowly, and with less pain than before, Kail'tor reached a hand within his satchel and closed his fingers around something, hesitating. His voice however had become intense. More played into this story than he'd first thought. It was no accident that he'd ended up here, at this spot, with these people. If there was any doubt of his ability to use magic, his demonstration with the arrow would quell it. I will not forsake those who've shown me such kindness. My skills are yours. He lowered his head slightly, but he didn't want to give the girl false hope. His ability to track and find the missing girl, would depend on her answer, and so, he waited patiently for her responce. Edited by Amaurea, Mar 8 2014, 11:05 PM.
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"In sleep dreams embody our hopes and our future, but when dreams escape into reality, they become nightmares" | |
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