Ms. Sparrow
Queen of SHIIIPS
(Do not post until I make the first post)
IC RP
- Thread starter Ms. Sparrow
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Ms. Sparrow
Queen of SHIIIPS
Azalea, Princess of Zael
Location: Zael's borders.
Azalea awoke, her back felt stiff, the sounds of quiet wildlife surrounded her. She didn't open her eyes, trying to process why she was laying in the cold earth beneath her, but memories cane back to her quickly of the night before. Her family, the kingdom.... Those...demons. She opened her eyes, staring up through the leaves and branches, Tyr sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon, the skies were clear, pink and orange colors as the dawn approached.
Azalea sat up, her skirts rustling. She had not had time to change in the moment of fleeing the night before, she hardly grabbed what she had now. A rope, a leather satchel with her hunting gear, and a book. Azalea stood, her white steed grazed in in the distance. To her back was a tree, the one she slept under. Surrounding her were the green hills of grass planes, to her right was the forest, if she continued that way she'd be leaving Zael's territory. But she had to know. She had to know if the other kingdoms had been attacked just as hers had.
Exhausted, Azalea knew she had to keep moving. She strided over to her horse, gently grabbing it by the reins and leading it towards the forest. Her hunting bow and quiver on her back.
(Azalea's dress):
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Bakuyoshi
The lord of shipping
Location: The ruins of Vorch castle
Voris sat on the throne that once belonged to the king of this stupid kingdom. "Tch I don't get why humans do this. It's pointless and boring. I may want to report to Master and tell him the bad news. Can't believe that brat got away." Voris casually walked out of the castle with dead bodies littering the floor.
Location: Forest near Gothia
Varren was holding a spear biding his time as he watched fish in the pond ready to strike when they got in his range. He was unaware of what had happened as he was cut off from any news out in this forest. "Come fish I promise it will be quick."
Voris sat on the throne that once belonged to the king of this stupid kingdom. "Tch I don't get why humans do this. It's pointless and boring. I may want to report to Master and tell him the bad news. Can't believe that brat got away." Voris casually walked out of the castle with dead bodies littering the floor.
Location: Forest near Gothia
Varren was holding a spear biding his time as he watched fish in the pond ready to strike when they got in his range. He was unaware of what had happened as he was cut off from any news out in this forest. "Come fish I promise it will be quick."
Muffinboi
Horror of the Sea
Location: Forest between Vorch and Gothia
Pearl had awoken next to the fallen tree she used as a makeshift shelter for the night. The rabbit-like creature picked up the the cloak used as a blanket, her short sword, and her satchel which contained the rest of her items. She then got up and dusted some of the dirt off of her cloth pants and stuffed the cloak into the satchel, some of it hanging out due to its size.
Pearl had awoken next to the fallen tree she used as a makeshift shelter for the night. The rabbit-like creature picked up the the cloak used as a blanket, her short sword, and her satchel which contained the rest of her items. She then got up and dusted some of the dirt off of her cloth pants and stuffed the cloak into the satchel, some of it hanging out due to its size.
ShadowBroker
One Thousand Club
Location: Reaching the forest of Gothia.
The horse continued moving forward ignoring everything at it's surroundings, each step as doubtful as the last for it's rider seemed defeated, unaware of it's direction.
Inir seemed paralyze with both hands holding a tight grip on the rope yet this attempt to hold onto the horse seemed pathetic, rather on purpose at the same time... as if he wished to fall. The green cape on his shoulder started to weight which was in fact the armor but he couldn't figure out the difference. He finally dismounted the horse with a lost glance, eyes rolling down on the ground without the willpower to raise his sight. His hand finally gave loose to the rope on the horse as he slowly reaches for the nearest tree.
His body was shivering just like his own eyes recover consciousness, his breath becomes quicker and shallow. His right hand would rush over to his belt and take the heavy sword as if it was a simple practice blade and strikes the tree once. The cut was superficial, there was hardly a scar. But then he begin to strike again, and again; each hit with more devotion and anger, each cut with another memory that bite his heart. He starts to growl as he pass the five cuts and continues losing his temper and the technique. At the end he screams full of hatred as the last cut doesn't even reach the tree, in fact pass cutting the air between the two, forcing Inir to kneel as the weight of his own sword obligates him.
There was no tears... only a broken promise, "I failed them." he muttered and mustered with what little he had of breath.
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Shireling
A Servant of King and Country
The Forests of Gothia
Wiglaf stirred as light touched his face through the dense forest canopy. After a night of running with reckless abandon through the forest, he found himself sore and tired in an unfamiliar place. The giant trunks of the dark oaks around him rose in a gnarled and twisted fashion. When he was a child, he thought there were witches and devils in these woods. It wasn't hard to see why.
Wiglaf put his palms against the cool dirt and propped himself up. The cold air was refreshing, and biting. To his right, his sword and crossbow lay discarded. He quickly picked them up and went trouncing off into the woods, following an old and barely perceptible game path.
After an hour of travelling, he had reached a small brook where he fell to his knees to drink and clean his hands in the cold water. He saw his reflection in the stream, clean shaven and fresh from the day before marked by struggle and flight.
Wiglaf stirred as light touched his face through the dense forest canopy. After a night of running with reckless abandon through the forest, he found himself sore and tired in an unfamiliar place. The giant trunks of the dark oaks around him rose in a gnarled and twisted fashion. When he was a child, he thought there were witches and devils in these woods. It wasn't hard to see why.
Wiglaf put his palms against the cool dirt and propped himself up. The cold air was refreshing, and biting. To his right, his sword and crossbow lay discarded. He quickly picked them up and went trouncing off into the woods, following an old and barely perceptible game path.
After an hour of travelling, he had reached a small brook where he fell to his knees to drink and clean his hands in the cold water. He saw his reflection in the stream, clean shaven and fresh from the day before marked by struggle and flight.
Maevrys
Just another face.
/monthly_2016_11/pf.png.6141ad1f8262aeadc4e622b7d917a9fb.pngI R I S D R A ' E R O F E R I S D A R
From atop the mountain, they had seen it before it hit. Not that anyone in her kingdom knew what it was. A black storm of clouds heading towards them at a quick pace. There was no thunder, only a chill and a feeling of malice. For safety, everyone had to evacuate, travelling down the caverns to the forest village of Fetyr. They were confident there, they would be safe. But they were wrong.
When they got to the bottom, they found that the black cloud had already reached it and was eating away at the people there. It was pure chaos, and in the madness, Iris was separated from her family. For whatever reason, the villagers began turning on her one by one. Some tried to knock her down and others grabbed hold of branches, rocks, whatever they could find. She stared them in the eyes, screaming at them, but they continued to assault her with blank looks in their eyes that looked through her versus at her.
Instinct kicked in as Iris kicked them off of her and made a run for it. She was familiar with the forest as she went there often to study the wildlife. She turned her head to see if she could spot and shout for her family, and everything in her froze. A figure cloaked in black ran his sword through her father right before her eyes. With a great amount of strength, the figure pulled his sword away and her father collapsed into a limp heap. A few steps away stood her mother, shielding the sisters and younger brother. Iris ran back, bringing out a dagger and slicing through anyone who got in her way. "MAMMA!" She couldn't stop the cry, her pace picking up as she watched the figure slash across her mother's chest. The girls and boy that stood behind her screamed as blood splattered over their cheeks.
"Run... RUN!" Iris demanded from them, but they didn't move.
Their whole body shook as though they were fighting to move but something physically held them there. I will get there. I will reach them. SLAM. Having not paid attention to her side views, only having tunnel vision where the other side led to her siblings, she didn't see her brother come in and push her out of the way. When she looked up at him, she saw the same dead look in his eyes that the villagers had. No. It couldn't be. Her head snapped back to her sisters and brother who screamed in terror. The figure had picked one of the girls up and ripped her head from her neck. She didn't see the rest, her older brother blocked it with his sword as she barely dodged him thrusting it down on her. She rolled away, and stood up. "I refuse to fight you," she sobbed and turned her back on him. "I refuse to kill you."
Knowing he would not survive, that he too would die and that if she were strong enough, she should turn back and end his suffering, she ran the other way and escaped the madness that swallowed her kingdom up. He didn't chase her, she didn't know why but she stopped thinking. Survival was her only instinct. Running north with her speed, the village disappeared and even the Fetyr forest grew smaller and smaller.
The sun started to rise and she watched the black clouds of terror from afar dissipate. Not ready yet to go back to the kingdom she knew was in ruins, Iris continued running until she reached the river where three kingdoms met. She was headed for Vorch, who her kingdom had the best relations with. Little did she know that what had happened to her, they too suffered.
Attachments
HeckingHeck
One Thousand Club
Location: Outskirts of Capital/Dense Forests of Arlan
Robert has just sheathed his sword that had recently penetrated the bodies of some demons one of which managed to cut his jaw not severely though.
It'll heal, he thought before looking off into the forest. It was his chance to escape from the still smoldering ruins. Peasants could be heard screaming and perhaps some did get away however he assumed many would've been dead. Some of the bodies on the ground were still alive and helpless, cuts so severe that even the best doctor could not heal them. Some of the corpses were charred and others amputated. Some even had noticeable bite marks or chunks taken out of their body with a mouth. It was horrifying even for Robert. No shield could ever stop this madness. He has to run.
The cry of swords and the thump of bodies could still be heard among the old forest and in the distance. He was quite far already from the capital but not far enough. The smoke only added to the dreary looking the clouds which teased rain that would never come. A cool breeze only made running slightly easier yet he was sweating and his legs were sore from the fighting. He was making his way to the river where he usually encamped on a hunt. It was still quite a way away perhaps another half day, a quarter if he could run fast enough.
He was getting thirstier by the second. He had water with him but no time to drink. He was so deep into the jingle all trees started looking the same but he knew his path. It was routine, it was only a mystery on who found our about his routine first. Surely the Inquisition would find him perhaps he would find the other royals. It was all his mind could think of before he tripped and fell. He landed on his hands however it only added onto the pain.
"A few more steps... A few morez then I can do something," Robert frowned. He coughed and got up and bolted as he did, thankful he wasn't wearing plate.
Robert has just sheathed his sword that had recently penetrated the bodies of some demons one of which managed to cut his jaw not severely though.
It'll heal, he thought before looking off into the forest. It was his chance to escape from the still smoldering ruins. Peasants could be heard screaming and perhaps some did get away however he assumed many would've been dead. Some of the bodies on the ground were still alive and helpless, cuts so severe that even the best doctor could not heal them. Some of the corpses were charred and others amputated. Some even had noticeable bite marks or chunks taken out of their body with a mouth. It was horrifying even for Robert. No shield could ever stop this madness. He has to run.
The cry of swords and the thump of bodies could still be heard among the old forest and in the distance. He was quite far already from the capital but not far enough. The smoke only added to the dreary looking the clouds which teased rain that would never come. A cool breeze only made running slightly easier yet he was sweating and his legs were sore from the fighting. He was making his way to the river where he usually encamped on a hunt. It was still quite a way away perhaps another half day, a quarter if he could run fast enough.
He was getting thirstier by the second. He had water with him but no time to drink. He was so deep into the jingle all trees started looking the same but he knew his path. It was routine, it was only a mystery on who found our about his routine first. Surely the Inquisition would find him perhaps he would find the other royals. It was all his mind could think of before he tripped and fell. He landed on his hands however it only added onto the pain.
"A few more steps... A few morez then I can do something," Robert frowned. He coughed and got up and bolted as he did, thankful he wasn't wearing plate.
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Maevrys
Just another face.
⛧ ZAHVEI THE ILLUSIONIST ⛧
/monthly_2016_11/pf1.jpg.9779dbcce554b78cc5116edae59e4390.jpg
/monthly_2016_11/pf2.jpg.c84b52971fa68ef453da08404dca2de4.jpgIT'S ALREADY TOO LATE FOR YOU TO TRY AND RUN AWAY I CAN SENSE YOUR HORROR THOUGH I'D LIKE TO SEE IT CLOSER I HEAR YOUR SHARP BREATHS YOU'RE NOT VERY GOOD AT HIDING
It was over all too soon for Zahvei, they died so quickly. Pleasure coursed through his shadow form, and for a little while, he was sated. Something felt off though, like he was missing something. It was like eating breakfast, lunch, and dinner, but forgetting about dessert. wHeEeerRE iS thE gIRl?! He screeched into the minds of those demons surrounding him. WHERE IS SHE WHERE IS SHE WHERE IS SHE WHERE IS SHE? He chanted into their minds, forcing them to turn their focus from their dinner and find the reason they came here in the first place: kill the royals. Kill them all. Leave no royal left alive. The order was simple, and Zahvei hated to fail. He never had before, and everything within him shrunk at the prospect of his master learning of his failure.
Finish things here, the demon commanded those of lower status than he. I will find her aNd DevOur hEr sOul... where are you little girl?
He refused to go back to his Master before he had found and ended the pitiful little girl that had gotten away. Her scent was so similar to her family's and now he held their memories in his mind. He could picture her in his mind through them. run then... I WILL FIND YOU.
He cackled his inhuman laugh and took to the skies in search of the girl that had gotten away from him. On the ground below him, he watched the demons around him consume her home and spill blood over her banners. The girl would miss her family and her people. Surely, she would want to be with them again. Zahvei could bring her back to her family, if she only revealed herself to him.
I FOUND YOU
Attachments
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Blackrose7
True Black Rose Beauty
Flora: Princess of Freidien
Location: Heading to La' Lune on a horse
Upon being warned by a castle gate guard, who escaped from Castle Soliona from the incoming demon attack, because they know about Flora escaping from the castle to head to Merriton here. Flora tried her best to protect her people in Merriton by putting on her crown, since not only does Flora carry that, and her kingdom's emblem in her bag here; but the Freidien people do secretly putted their weapons nearby, just in case the Ravenbrand's camp ended up deciding to attack them for whatever reason.
The people in Merriton tried their best to kill the demons here, but sadly they weren't able to do this. So Flora told the rest of her surviving people to go to Bellmere, or Vigilant if they have a horse with them in order to warn them. The surviving people of Merriton went to Bellmere or Vigilant here, and some of the demons did manage to kill them.
Flora however went to La' Lune with both her precious friend and her horse, since she needed to know if the demons were attacking La' Lune here. 'I don't know what is going on with the demons attacking Freidien here; but I need to know if La' Lune is being attacked by them, because they are one of our allies here.' thought Flora, who was trying very hard not to cry here; since she knows that the demons killed her whole family.
Shireling
A Servant of King and Country
Andersen Farmhouse, Near the Gothian-Arlan Border
On a rocky outcropping overlooking a verdant field, the Andersen Farmhouse rose like a slumped and old man kneeling against the hill. It's pitched roof sagged and sank against the weather of ages, and the shuttered windows were battened down against the cold.
From the front stoop, an old man in a coat sat whittling a small wooden figurine with a knife, watching as a small figure approached on the horizon and grew larger and larger as he came nearer. The traveler, beaten and weary, arrived on the lawn surrounded by a half dozen sheep that had strayed from the field to investigate the stranger. A sword dangled from a loosely-buckled sheathe, a crossbow was loaded dangling from a strap, and the stranger looked too tired to fight. The old man laid down his whittling, and stood up.
"Where you from, soldier?"
"Castle Svinsen."
"Quite a walk..." The old man frowned. "What happened?"
Wiglaf raised his sleeve to his brow and wiped away the sweat there. "Shades... The finest of the prince's men were slain in his defense."
"And the prince?" The old man asked.
"I can't imagine where he went. Last I heard, he rode with Sir Hakersen to the Eastmark." Wiglaf said, lying so that this poor farmer would not be burdened with the harboring of a fugitive. He was putting him at a risk even asking him for lodging. As they talked, a freshly-sheared sheep nuzzled Wiglaf and licked at his fingers. He reached out and gently stroked the beast's head, then turned back to the farmer.
"I need a bed for tonight, and conveyance to Arlan. I carry an urgent message from the Regent." Wiglaf said, lying again. "I will pay you handsomely."
The old man nodded softly. "There is an empty bed on the first floor."
The man ushered Wiglaf into his house. It was large by the standards of most country hovels, but barren and unkempt. It was lacking the touch of a woman, and had been for some time. The entrance room consisted merely of an old mouldy couch on a plank floor, a stove, and a table and chair set along with a row of cabinets and counters on the far wall. It was dimly lit by candles in the low light of an overcast afternoon. The faded wallpaper was peeling, and the windows were dusted over adding to the cold dim of the room.
Wiglaf wanted to ask about the man's family, but resisted the urge. The old farmer took the figure he was whittling, a chess knight, and set him down on the table on an intricately carved grid alongside other chess figurines he had carved. He pointed to a door on the far wall. "You can bed there for the night."
Wiglaf dutifully entered the dark room, finding merely a simple bronze bed and nightstand. A small portrait was sitting on the table, that of a small girl with golden hair. Beside the picture, an old bottle of medicine and old, dusty bandages laid disused and forgotten. He began to understand what had taken his family, the plague. He unbuckled his armor and laid his weapons aside. The bed seemed inviting...
Ms. Sparrow
Queen of SHIIIPS
Azalea, Last heir to Zael
Location: Passing through Arlan-Zael border.
Azalea galloped through the fields the quicker she got to Arlan the better. A feeling of dread wedged into her stomach, her people her family. Gone. Dead. Murdered. The horror was fresh in her eyes, she'd ran into the throne room, where her family agreed to meet to evacuate, only to find her brother bled out unto the floor, slashes and gashed covering him, just in time to watch her father run her dear mother through with a knife.
It it took Azalea a moment to realize tears had spilled from her eyes. She didn't have time to wipe them. She had to cross several rivers to get past the border, her dress halfway soaked but she urged on, grief weighing heavily in her soul as she clutched her horses reins and galloped on through the gravel roads, kicking up dust, her red hair flying behind her, face wet and stained with tears, dress half soaked from river water. She was freezing, huddling to her horse for some small warmth as they galloped further into Arlan. Determination strong on her face. She had to know if Arlan suffered the same fate. And she prayed to the gods they hadn't.
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Shireling
A Servant of King and Country
Arlan, A Border Road
Wiglaf was able to gain safe passage into Arlan using his official papers, which he had carefully hidden from Mr. Andersen. The less he knew, the better. The old farmer had been invaluable to him, feeding him and taking him this far in his ox cart. The morning brought rain and chilled him to the bone, but it didn't seem to bother his companion, who sat jostling on the seat in the rain. Crossing into Arlan brought more favorable weather, but also horror stories of Shades rampaging on the frontiers.
In the late morning, the farmer was forced to turn around to make it back to his hovel within the day. This left Wiglaf to wander the road on the way to the nearest village. He left Mr. Andersen with ten farthings and bid him health. He only wished that he might be spared the ravages of war. He gathered himself and began the arduous venture to the west.
Abendrot
修羅の花
Damon Salderris
[SIZE= 10px]Close to the Arlan-Zael border[/SIZE]
As dawn sent its shimmering rays over the woods, Damon realized he'd lost track of how long it had been since he rode out from Marolann. A few weeks, he reckoned, yet he remembered the siege as if it were yesterday night. He was tired. So tired. His eyelids were heavy from sleep, and heavier still was his armor, weighing him down, daring him to topple over. In spite of himself, Damon allowed memories of his family to rush through his mind freely. There was his oldest, Conor, smiling as he taught him to hold a sword, his wife humming as she mended clothes, his second son, Dillon, reciting his knightly vows, his last son, Carlin, staring with mouth agape at a parade in the capital. Then, three shrouded bodies in a row, bloodstained and cold, to be lowered into shallow graves. Damon would have wept then and there if he had any tears left to weep.
Damon hadn't the faintest clue of what to do with himself now. Arlan was gone, the Inquisition was dead, and everyone he'd known and cared for had been slaughtered like animals. Death suddenly seemed like an inviting prospect to him, but he was not about to sink so low as to take his own life. No, he would seek a dignified death, one in hard, bloody battle. A few hours of riding later, Damon found the banks of a river, wide and alluringly cold. He half fell from his horse, and drank as much as he could stand. If he was correct, this was the delta separating Arlan from Zael. Sadly though, he was rather certain that the Zaelians had already suffered the same fate as his own people: overrun by demon hordes. With an effort, he moved to sit beside a nearby tree, this time feeling confident that he could take a nap without being killed in his sleep.
@DarknessSpirit@Shireling (I see you guys are headed towards this general direction. I'll get Berenor's intro up soon.)
[SIZE= 10px]Close to the Arlan-Zael border[/SIZE]
As dawn sent its shimmering rays over the woods, Damon realized he'd lost track of how long it had been since he rode out from Marolann. A few weeks, he reckoned, yet he remembered the siege as if it were yesterday night. He was tired. So tired. His eyelids were heavy from sleep, and heavier still was his armor, weighing him down, daring him to topple over. In spite of himself, Damon allowed memories of his family to rush through his mind freely. There was his oldest, Conor, smiling as he taught him to hold a sword, his wife humming as she mended clothes, his second son, Dillon, reciting his knightly vows, his last son, Carlin, staring with mouth agape at a parade in the capital. Then, three shrouded bodies in a row, bloodstained and cold, to be lowered into shallow graves. Damon would have wept then and there if he had any tears left to weep.
Damon hadn't the faintest clue of what to do with himself now. Arlan was gone, the Inquisition was dead, and everyone he'd known and cared for had been slaughtered like animals. Death suddenly seemed like an inviting prospect to him, but he was not about to sink so low as to take his own life. No, he would seek a dignified death, one in hard, bloody battle. A few hours of riding later, Damon found the banks of a river, wide and alluringly cold. He half fell from his horse, and drank as much as he could stand. If he was correct, this was the delta separating Arlan from Zael. Sadly though, he was rather certain that the Zaelians had already suffered the same fate as his own people: overrun by demon hordes. With an effort, he moved to sit beside a nearby tree, this time feeling confident that he could take a nap without being killed in his sleep.
@DarknessSpirit@Shireling (I see you guys are headed towards this general direction. I'll get Berenor's intro up soon.)
Abendrot
修羅の花
Berenor
Bellmere Ruins
Almost nothing remains of the village of Bellmere but the smoldering ruins of its houses and the butchered corpses of their inhabitants. It had only been this way since last night, when demons overran the town along with almost every settlement in the region. Less than a thousand wood elves remain in these woods, most of them refugees cooped up in a hideout that Norren made this morning. Some had begged Berenor not to return here out of fear that he would be caught by the demons, but the way he saw it, he had no other choice. Bodies had to be buried, respects needed to be paid, and tools had to be scavenged and put to better use. Norren and about fifty village boys had asked to come too, offering to help recover bodies and clear the rubble.
Berenor had been walking down the dirt path to the square when he found six of his people clearing the wreckage of Eryndir’s house. No word from him or his family. Further down the street, two boys were pulling out Elnora’s corpse from underneath her own house. She'd been a cheeky one as a girl, always throwing apples at you when you least expected it. When he finally came upon the ruins of his family’s home, he looked away, trying not to retch.
A hand fell gently on Berenor’s shoulder. “Are you okay?” Norren asked. Berenor’s mother and father were buried first at his request. They were venerably old by elf standards, close to a thousand years, and they'd been loved dearly by the community. “I’m fine.” he responded. His voice was very flat. All through the night, he laid awake in his bed, thinking about what they did. How how they left his face a scarred ruin. Tentatively, Berenor removed his headscarf and reached to touch his cheek. It did not sting as much as it did the night before, but the damage would not be undone. His right eye was still there, but all of its vision had been burned away, and all around it was black and red scar tissue. I"ll kill them all. Berenor vowed as he pulled his headscarf over his head again.
Bellmere Ruins
Almost nothing remains of the village of Bellmere but the smoldering ruins of its houses and the butchered corpses of their inhabitants. It had only been this way since last night, when demons overran the town along with almost every settlement in the region. Less than a thousand wood elves remain in these woods, most of them refugees cooped up in a hideout that Norren made this morning. Some had begged Berenor not to return here out of fear that he would be caught by the demons, but the way he saw it, he had no other choice. Bodies had to be buried, respects needed to be paid, and tools had to be scavenged and put to better use. Norren and about fifty village boys had asked to come too, offering to help recover bodies and clear the rubble.
Berenor had been walking down the dirt path to the square when he found six of his people clearing the wreckage of Eryndir’s house. No word from him or his family. Further down the street, two boys were pulling out Elnora’s corpse from underneath her own house. She'd been a cheeky one as a girl, always throwing apples at you when you least expected it. When he finally came upon the ruins of his family’s home, he looked away, trying not to retch.
A hand fell gently on Berenor’s shoulder. “Are you okay?” Norren asked. Berenor’s mother and father were buried first at his request. They were venerably old by elf standards, close to a thousand years, and they'd been loved dearly by the community. “I’m fine.” he responded. His voice was very flat. All through the night, he laid awake in his bed, thinking about what they did. How how they left his face a scarred ruin. Tentatively, Berenor removed his headscarf and reached to touch his cheek. It did not sting as much as it did the night before, but the damage would not be undone. His right eye was still there, but all of its vision had been burned away, and all around it was black and red scar tissue. I"ll kill them all. Berenor vowed as he pulled his headscarf over his head again.
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Jellyon
One Thousand Club
Magnus
Northern Region of Freidien
The last wisps of the crackling campfire gradually halted into silence. A pinch of the remaining white ashes took to airborne due to the lingering warm air and danced with the cold breeze as if it was finally free. But for not too long the ashes eventually land on Magnus's shoulder who sat nearby on a wooden log. He sitting with his arms on top of his knees, placing his fingers over his mouth as if he was in deep transcendent thought. He was solely staring at the base of the fire observing its life wither away from this world forever. Titan, who never leaves his side, laid a meter to the left of him happily sleeping peacefully with a bone between his paws. Nothing could make it better. Sounds of footsteps rustling in the leaves were made behind him. In thought, Magnus ignored the outside noise unaware of who was approaching. An unknown hand appearing from behind grabbed his right shoulder jolting him back to concussions. Turning his head to see who had grabbed him, was the face of one of his lieutenants.
"The preparations are completed, Sir. Ready to move out on your orders." he stood there smiling.
Magnus nodded in acknowledgment. The lieutenant turned back and disappeared into the bushes of where he once came. Sighing, Magnus gently got up stretching his relaxed muscles along the way having them awake again. Upon moving, Titan woke instantly from his nap and looked over at Magnus who was getting up to leave, happily barking at his owner. Magnus walked over to his companion and shuffled his head.
"Good boy.... Had a good nap?" he asked in delight.
Barking again, Magnus took it as a yes. Bending down he picking up his belongings, he reached for his long sword which was neatly leaned against the nearby tree. He stood back up with the weapon and held it out in front of him inspecting its condition. It looked beautiful from all angles. It's glistening silver steel refracted all types of light creating a rainbow of colors. Content, he then tested its sharpness. He carefully ran his fingers near the edges of the blade seeing if it would cut him so. It had managed to cut off some dead skin with little to no effort. He swung the heavy sword over his head and settled it back into its rightful sheath. Pushing through the green he had been presented with a view of his men all on horseback waiting for him to arrive. One of Magnus's other commanders trotted forward welcoming him with open arms.
"Ah, There is the man of the hour! Are you ready to begin?" asking with anticipation.
"That is correct. What information did our scouts get from today's target?" Magnus returned.
"Well, it's best you look yourself. I'll provide the details."
He raised an eyebrow of confusion on what he meant. Alas, he had to see for himself. Walking over to the outer edges of the treeline, lead towards an open clearing full of green grass with a relatively small settlement seen in the distance. Magnus focused with his eyes, narrowing them to have a better look at it. His commander spoke up.
"As you can see this is a regular farming settlement. One we have not yet hit. Meaning it has an abundant of resources we can take from.
"And what so special about it that I have to see for myself?" Magnus unimpressed at the news.
The commander points to the village.
"Look at the inhabitants."
Scanning the area, Magnus manages to see what he was talking about. Each of the villagers held a weapon of their very own attempting to casually hide it out of plane sight.
"The royal family of Freidien issued a nationwide warning to their people about taking all sorts of defense measures of a potential attack. By which means probably us. In any case, they can't fight for shit so I like our odds. Though it surely seems that something is going on.."
Magnus thinking for a moment turns back into the forest.
"We will figure it out afterwards. But now is not the time." he said unaesthetic before heading back to saddle his horse.
Agreeing with him, the commander followed him behind. Gathering his men to the treeline Magnus had them all lined up in a horizontal line facing the village ahead. Magnus ran across from left side in front of the line examining them at every level. Trotting his horse slowly back again he began to deliver his pre-battle speech. He yelled in an inspiring tone.
"It is time to prove yourselves as true men of the banner. As men of RavenBrand, your duty is to fight with your comrades and protect them if needed. For this attack, I wish to see none of my own men laying face first in the mud collapsed to a bunch of small-minded villagers. And if such a thing happens. We will not waste his death in vain. No, we will kill those responsible and place their heads atop of a pike for all to witness. You will run down those who wish to fight back and those who run like cowards only to come back pointing a sword at us. Enough of this chatter. Now, to battle."
The men raised their voices in pride, cheering with their heart's content. Magnus then leads the group with a battle ax in hand charging at the unsuspecting village. The rest of the men follow behind still yelling in pride. The horde moves in for the attack. Inside village, the sounds of horses and screaming can be heard as well as a raiding horn....
Aumesuhur
Kingdom of Erisdar, Ruins of Fetyr
Aumesuhur hummed his little song again as he sat on the former king's throne waiting for his servants to return from picking off the stragglers. He greatly enjoyed the tune of it. It was a shame that he had no one to share it with. Bored, he picked up one of the surviving household guards with his tail wrapped around his neck holding him up in front of him. Speaking in whispery deathly hollow voice Aumesuhur begun.
"...your kind always amuses me..." chuckling with ridicule.
"...for generations I have watched mankind grow.....each generation disappointing as the next...."
Aumesuhur turned to see the countless corpses of dead guards and noblemen laying about in the main room, being fed on by his kind.
"....but after this....I still see myself as disappointed...."
The moment Aumesuhur finished his final sentence, he crushed the guard's neck by tightening his tail, killing him instantly. After killing him, he flung the corpse into the main room where more demons sprang on top of it as it hit the marble floor, ripping the chunks of flesh of the body and skin, devouring it to the bone.
"...savages..." said Aumesuhur looking at the sight.
Moments pass until the party of demons Aumesuhur had sent, returned. Excited he was eager to hear their news.
"...is it done?..." he asked hoping to hear it was successful.
One demon from the party stepped forward kneeling down.
"Y-Yes, O great one. All the townsman and all those who ran are murdered." it responded in a shaken voice.
Aumesuhur tilted his head a bit.
"...and the royal family?..."
Seconds had pass until the demon spoke once again.
"We murdered them all.. But..."
"..but what?..." questioned the forgotten one.
"O-One escaped, but as of now we are still searching for her. She will be found soon." it responded uncertain of Aumesuhur's reaction.
Aumesuhur stared down at the demon thinking of the news he had just received. In a flash, he grabbed ahold of the demon with his tail and crushed its neck, causing it to disappear into thin air of black smoke similar to the guard. All the other demons who were nearby watched in fear, fearing that they too would be next of his wrath. Aumesuhur sighed and stood up from the king's throne looking at every demon in the vacancy.
"...know this well......I do not tolerate failure within my ranks......find this girl and kill her....." demanding in utter rage.
The rest of the demons quickly scurry out of the room to search for the girl or risk the punishment that awaits them home. Aumesuhur sits back down, humming the same song as the front doors slowly close themselves in.
Northern Region of Freidien
The last wisps of the crackling campfire gradually halted into silence. A pinch of the remaining white ashes took to airborne due to the lingering warm air and danced with the cold breeze as if it was finally free. But for not too long the ashes eventually land on Magnus's shoulder who sat nearby on a wooden log. He sitting with his arms on top of his knees, placing his fingers over his mouth as if he was in deep transcendent thought. He was solely staring at the base of the fire observing its life wither away from this world forever. Titan, who never leaves his side, laid a meter to the left of him happily sleeping peacefully with a bone between his paws. Nothing could make it better. Sounds of footsteps rustling in the leaves were made behind him. In thought, Magnus ignored the outside noise unaware of who was approaching. An unknown hand appearing from behind grabbed his right shoulder jolting him back to concussions. Turning his head to see who had grabbed him, was the face of one of his lieutenants.
"The preparations are completed, Sir. Ready to move out on your orders." he stood there smiling.
Magnus nodded in acknowledgment. The lieutenant turned back and disappeared into the bushes of where he once came. Sighing, Magnus gently got up stretching his relaxed muscles along the way having them awake again. Upon moving, Titan woke instantly from his nap and looked over at Magnus who was getting up to leave, happily barking at his owner. Magnus walked over to his companion and shuffled his head.
"Good boy.... Had a good nap?" he asked in delight.
Barking again, Magnus took it as a yes. Bending down he picking up his belongings, he reached for his long sword which was neatly leaned against the nearby tree. He stood back up with the weapon and held it out in front of him inspecting its condition. It looked beautiful from all angles. It's glistening silver steel refracted all types of light creating a rainbow of colors. Content, he then tested its sharpness. He carefully ran his fingers near the edges of the blade seeing if it would cut him so. It had managed to cut off some dead skin with little to no effort. He swung the heavy sword over his head and settled it back into its rightful sheath. Pushing through the green he had been presented with a view of his men all on horseback waiting for him to arrive. One of Magnus's other commanders trotted forward welcoming him with open arms.
"Ah, There is the man of the hour! Are you ready to begin?" asking with anticipation.
"That is correct. What information did our scouts get from today's target?" Magnus returned.
"Well, it's best you look yourself. I'll provide the details."
He raised an eyebrow of confusion on what he meant. Alas, he had to see for himself. Walking over to the outer edges of the treeline, lead towards an open clearing full of green grass with a relatively small settlement seen in the distance. Magnus focused with his eyes, narrowing them to have a better look at it. His commander spoke up.
"As you can see this is a regular farming settlement. One we have not yet hit. Meaning it has an abundant of resources we can take from.
"And what so special about it that I have to see for myself?" Magnus unimpressed at the news.
The commander points to the village.
"Look at the inhabitants."
Scanning the area, Magnus manages to see what he was talking about. Each of the villagers held a weapon of their very own attempting to casually hide it out of plane sight.
"The royal family of Freidien issued a nationwide warning to their people about taking all sorts of defense measures of a potential attack. By which means probably us. In any case, they can't fight for shit so I like our odds. Though it surely seems that something is going on.."
Magnus thinking for a moment turns back into the forest.
"We will figure it out afterwards. But now is not the time." he said unaesthetic before heading back to saddle his horse.
Agreeing with him, the commander followed him behind. Gathering his men to the treeline Magnus had them all lined up in a horizontal line facing the village ahead. Magnus ran across from left side in front of the line examining them at every level. Trotting his horse slowly back again he began to deliver his pre-battle speech. He yelled in an inspiring tone.
"It is time to prove yourselves as true men of the banner. As men of RavenBrand, your duty is to fight with your comrades and protect them if needed. For this attack, I wish to see none of my own men laying face first in the mud collapsed to a bunch of small-minded villagers. And if such a thing happens. We will not waste his death in vain. No, we will kill those responsible and place their heads atop of a pike for all to witness. You will run down those who wish to fight back and those who run like cowards only to come back pointing a sword at us. Enough of this chatter. Now, to battle."
The men raised their voices in pride, cheering with their heart's content. Magnus then leads the group with a battle ax in hand charging at the unsuspecting village. The rest of the men follow behind still yelling in pride. The horde moves in for the attack. Inside village, the sounds of horses and screaming can be heard as well as a raiding horn....
Aumesuhur
Kingdom of Erisdar, Ruins of Fetyr
Aumesuhur hummed his little song again as he sat on the former king's throne waiting for his servants to return from picking off the stragglers. He greatly enjoyed the tune of it. It was a shame that he had no one to share it with. Bored, he picked up one of the surviving household guards with his tail wrapped around his neck holding him up in front of him. Speaking in whispery deathly hollow voice Aumesuhur begun.
"...your kind always amuses me..." chuckling with ridicule.
"...for generations I have watched mankind grow.....each generation disappointing as the next...."
Aumesuhur turned to see the countless corpses of dead guards and noblemen laying about in the main room, being fed on by his kind.
"....but after this....I still see myself as disappointed...."
The moment Aumesuhur finished his final sentence, he crushed the guard's neck by tightening his tail, killing him instantly. After killing him, he flung the corpse into the main room where more demons sprang on top of it as it hit the marble floor, ripping the chunks of flesh of the body and skin, devouring it to the bone.
"...savages..." said Aumesuhur looking at the sight.
Moments pass until the party of demons Aumesuhur had sent, returned. Excited he was eager to hear their news.
"...is it done?..." he asked hoping to hear it was successful.
One demon from the party stepped forward kneeling down.
"Y-Yes, O great one. All the townsman and all those who ran are murdered." it responded in a shaken voice.
Aumesuhur tilted his head a bit.
"...and the royal family?..."
Seconds had pass until the demon spoke once again.
"We murdered them all.. But..."
"..but what?..." questioned the forgotten one.
"O-One escaped, but as of now we are still searching for her. She will be found soon." it responded uncertain of Aumesuhur's reaction.
Aumesuhur stared down at the demon thinking of the news he had just received. In a flash, he grabbed ahold of the demon with his tail and crushed its neck, causing it to disappear into thin air of black smoke similar to the guard. All the other demons who were nearby watched in fear, fearing that they too would be next of his wrath. Aumesuhur sighed and stood up from the king's throne looking at every demon in the vacancy.
"...know this well......I do not tolerate failure within my ranks......find this girl and kill her....." demanding in utter rage.
The rest of the demons quickly scurry out of the room to search for the girl or risk the punishment that awaits them home. Aumesuhur sits back down, humming the same song as the front doors slowly close themselves in.
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q r o w
formerly latte
Lilith Winter Lo'Kale of La'Lune
Lune Moutain, Forest.
thunk. Lilith watched as her knife slid deeply into the tree truck from her throw. Taking a shaky breath, she exhaled, controlling her anger. She looked at her brothers bow, the last thing remaining of him. She held it in her hands and closed her eyes, drawing herself into memory.
'The things are coming from the evacuation tunnels. Ryan! Take your sister through the forest, that should put you ahead and away from-' her mothers voice cut off by the sound of a sword hitting flesh. Lilith screamed, her brother grabbing her bag and pulling her along. 'Lilith lets go.' Her brother screamed over the fighting now taking up the castle. Lilith grabbed her bag from her brother, they made it down the mountain side before they where caught up to, Ryan fought of course, but in the end was killed by a demon. Lilith grabbed his bow and fleed to a hidden cabin long enough to grab an arrow quiver and keep fleeing. She had climbed a tree to rest for a little, as her legs screamed in agony.
"so he really is dead. " She said, sorrow in her eyes. She shook her head, unable to cry and gathered her stuff. She jumped from the branch, when she heard and saw a horse. Rolling, as she landed, she stills herself in a protect perch, withdrawing her knife. She looked at the person as they drew closer. Flora? Differently Flora. "Flora!" She called out, but low, not wanting to draw unwanted attention. @Blackrose7
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HeckingHeck
One Thousand Club
Location: Outskirts of Eastern Village
" Of course, splinters and fires like everything else," Robert sighed. His plan was to seek refuge at the village and then follow up the river into Gothia, perhaps they were better off then Arlan, what wants to own a bunch of farms and schools?
He made his way through the charred village where corpses littered the ground. It seemed for every dead demon their were three human fighters. Noble lads who tried to defend their families. Perhaps the demons got bored of the village and rallied to attack the capital. It was uncertain.
He looked back and still saw the ever rising smoke in the distance, though it seems it had faded since. At least it was quiet, it was one of the few things he was thankful for after the invasion.
He supposed he should scavenge but there was nothing he thought was worthwhile. He knew there was no armory here and whatever weapons the peasants could scavenge were better off firewood.
He decided there was no point staying here and traveled up river to the Gothia border. Perhaps he'll fish along the way but with what? Maybe somebody left a net he thought hopefully. He doubted it. He had to keep walking.
" Of course, splinters and fires like everything else," Robert sighed. His plan was to seek refuge at the village and then follow up the river into Gothia, perhaps they were better off then Arlan, what wants to own a bunch of farms and schools?
He made his way through the charred village where corpses littered the ground. It seemed for every dead demon their were three human fighters. Noble lads who tried to defend their families. Perhaps the demons got bored of the village and rallied to attack the capital. It was uncertain.
He looked back and still saw the ever rising smoke in the distance, though it seems it had faded since. At least it was quiet, it was one of the few things he was thankful for after the invasion.
He supposed he should scavenge but there was nothing he thought was worthwhile. He knew there was no armory here and whatever weapons the peasants could scavenge were better off firewood.
He decided there was no point staying here and traveled up river to the Gothia border. Perhaps he'll fish along the way but with what? Maybe somebody left a net he thought hopefully. He doubted it. He had to keep walking.
Bakuyoshi
The lord of shipping
Location: Vorch Border
Voris had finally gotten his troops together. But unfortunately the Brat must've found a way around all of them. "Clever kid getting past such large numbers covering so much ground. This will be a hunt worth talking about. I wonder if luck may bring us another target that won't make master so ashamed. Until then none of us can return until we bring the head of the brat! And if we find another one remember don't kill them immediately. The king and all of the soldiers of this country were lucky I felt merciful during the invasion." Some of Voris's troops were clearly aware of what fate anyone their captain would capture would be worse than death.
Location: In the forest of Gothia
Varren attempted to strike the fish but missed at the sound of someone shouting in Anger. "Who on earth could that be. Not many people come out here so what's his story?" Varren decided to follow the sound of the voice hoping to find the source. After some searching he found who it was. "Hey what's wrong kid? I heard your yells and I decided to see what was wrong."
@ShadowBroker
Voris had finally gotten his troops together. But unfortunately the Brat must've found a way around all of them. "Clever kid getting past such large numbers covering so much ground. This will be a hunt worth talking about. I wonder if luck may bring us another target that won't make master so ashamed. Until then none of us can return until we bring the head of the brat! And if we find another one remember don't kill them immediately. The king and all of the soldiers of this country were lucky I felt merciful during the invasion." Some of Voris's troops were clearly aware of what fate anyone their captain would capture would be worse than death.
Location: In the forest of Gothia
Varren attempted to strike the fish but missed at the sound of someone shouting in Anger. "Who on earth could that be. Not many people come out here so what's his story?" Varren decided to follow the sound of the voice hoping to find the source. After some searching he found who it was. "Hey what's wrong kid? I heard your yells and I decided to see what was wrong."
@ShadowBroker
ShadowBroker
One Thousand Club
Location: In the forest of Gothia.
Inir would have already recover some of his composure but that wouldn't be enough to kick out from his paranoia. At the minute, the second he heard the sound of another being approaching, he pulled himself up and with both hands took the sword preparing to encounter the being behind him. His chain mail seemed rusty and the iron plates dented, yet the armor seemed one of the finest though covered with mud and scratches which facilitated to mistake him from some common soldier.
Inir spoke with his guard ready, "You choose a wrong time to be curious." he walked to his right side, making space between the two, "I am a soldier from Vorch, I must deliver the news to Erisdar. Vorch has been attacked by dark creatures, cloud shaped." He stared at the man for a moment and asked, "Speak your name, traveler."
Though Inir didn't expect a fight, he has been always a soldier and this was just a simple introduction with a stranger. His hands have held the sword tighter and his foot posture seem ready to defend himself.
Bakuyoshi
The lord of shipping
Location: In the Forest of Gothia
Varren had to register what he heard. As much as he wanted to ask he had to introduce himself. "Varren I was once a citizen of Vorch myself. But I left six years ago to fight the strongest people. But I have yet to find anyone and I made my home in this forest no longer tied to anything but nature itself. But what is the state of Vorch. Are they still fighting? And if so I must get my weaponry and rush to aid my homeland. And what are these cloud shaped creatures you speak of?"
@ShadowBroker
Varren had to register what he heard. As much as he wanted to ask he had to introduce himself. "Varren I was once a citizen of Vorch myself. But I left six years ago to fight the strongest people. But I have yet to find anyone and I made my home in this forest no longer tied to anything but nature itself. But what is the state of Vorch. Are they still fighting? And if so I must get my weaponry and rush to aid my homeland. And what are these cloud shaped creatures you speak of?"
@ShadowBroker
ShadowBroker
One Thousand Club
Location: In the forest of Gothia.
Inir slowly drop the tip of his sword from thrusting Varren, or at least that was his idea. He sighted as he reached for his horse checking the bags at it's side for water to drink, something like a canteen came out as he started drinking. Once he took a sip or two, he continued, "Castle Bear has fallen." he said with remorse on the tone of his voice, shattered, "The darkness was moving towards the Capital when I left at fast pace. It may have already taken Caelum and Castle Dread by the morning of this day."
He moves away from the horse as he sits down for a moment on the base of the tree, "King Jorah Warden must be presumed dead." he mutters but does tries to give more relevant information to Varren, "It's pointless we go back." He stared at Varren as he questioned his loyalty, presuming he only cares for a challenge rather than what is the 'greater good', "If you wish to aid your homeland then maybe you should come with me." he stood up, taking a heavy breath as he nods, "I need to reach Erisdar before nightfall. I must scout the countries-neighbors to investigate the extend of this... nightmare."
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Ms. Sparrow
Queen of SHIIIPS
Location: Arlan
Azalea did mounted from her horse in the field, knowing it needed to rest before they galloped any further. Knowing they'd have to stay put for a while worried her. She thought back to the demons. They were magic for sure. Pure evil. How could one be killed? Surely not normal weapons. How fast were they? Hopefully not too fast. She didn't know how much longer she could go on without rest. She sat in the tall grass field and watched her horse graze on the grass a small distance away.
Bakuyoshi
The lord of shipping
"I shall come with you. It won't fix the wrong I have commited by not being there when I was needed but it is all I can do. Just lead the way and I shall do as you command of me." Varren felt guilt at the thought of his siblings being dead due to his selfish quest to fight the strongest people the kingdoms had to offer. He had to do this if he even hoped for redemption.
@ShadowBroker
@ShadowBroker
Maevrys
Just another face.
/monthly_2016_11/pf.png.6141ad1f8262aeadc4e622b7d917a9fb.pngI R I S D R A ' E R O F E R I S D A R
LOCATION: River from Gothia passing through Vorch.
It was light out now, and the cloud of darkness that had engulfed her kingdom's mountains faded away. However, Iris could still see smoke rising up from the fires that undoubtedly had been started in the madness. Whether anyone still lived, if anyone was still sane, that she didn't know. Until she had the assistance of the others, Iris wasn't ready to face her kingdom again.
It wasn't that she was scared or weak, she told herself fervently. A true Warrior knew better than to be arrogant. Going off on her own to avenge her people would only end in her death against that madness. They used dark sorcery to get the job done, and magic had been banned in their kingdoms for centuries. In her hunger for knowledge, she had read about people in her kingdom who once used magic, but the details of how were lost to her. She didn't have the tools to do this on her own, and while pride and sorrow for her family clashed with logic, she knew better than to give into such things.
She raised her head up to survey the scene around her. In the distance, she could see Gothia. It was unknown to her if they were aware of her predicament, but after careful thought she knew she should head for Gothia. It was of course, closer to her home than Gothia. While relations were more personal in Vorch, there was still the alliance on her side. Iris was hopeful she would have their assistance in this horrible scene. Assuming the same hadn't happened to them...
So instead, Iris didn't cross the river to Vorch but headed west toward Gothia. It required going through the forest that surrounded the kingdom, something she was very familiar with. The forest that surrounding Fetyr reached through Gothia and was very similar in wildlife and flora available. Tipping her off, the birds went silent, the forest grew still. There was something inside besides her, and she was getting closer and closer to it. She darted behind a tree with the intent to climb up it and hide, but then she saw the two figures more clearly. Two men, talking with one another. With her hearing, she could hear Erisdar mentioned in their comments. Were they with the attack? Were they of Gothia and knew? Were they enemy or ally? What if neither?
Pulling out her crossbow from the sling on her back, she tread quietly closer to them. She could stalk them or approach them, and Iris didn't know the right answer in this situation. She was a woman, they were men. If they were enemies, what could happen to her? NO. Iris refused to be stopped short by gender. She was strong and wise, a proud Dragon Warrior of her people. Iris pulled up her head scarf and covered her mouth. It was a heavy cloth that had an armor made from shed off scales from her sides. Not as potent as the ones grown into her sides, but still far stronger than any iron or steel. Pointing her crossbow straight at the soldier who wore armor, focusing in on the weak spot between the armor in his neck. "What purpose do you have in Erisdar?" She spoke to them in a gruff voice muffled by the scarf as she stepped out from behind the tree.
LOCATION: River from Gothia passing through Vorch.
It was light out now, and the cloud of darkness that had engulfed her kingdom's mountains faded away. However, Iris could still see smoke rising up from the fires that undoubtedly had been started in the madness. Whether anyone still lived, if anyone was still sane, that she didn't know. Until she had the assistance of the others, Iris wasn't ready to face her kingdom again.
It wasn't that she was scared or weak, she told herself fervently. A true Warrior knew better than to be arrogant. Going off on her own to avenge her people would only end in her death against that madness. They used dark sorcery to get the job done, and magic had been banned in their kingdoms for centuries. In her hunger for knowledge, she had read about people in her kingdom who once used magic, but the details of how were lost to her. She didn't have the tools to do this on her own, and while pride and sorrow for her family clashed with logic, she knew better than to give into such things.
She raised her head up to survey the scene around her. In the distance, she could see Gothia. It was unknown to her if they were aware of her predicament, but after careful thought she knew she should head for Gothia. It was of course, closer to her home than Gothia. While relations were more personal in Vorch, there was still the alliance on her side. Iris was hopeful she would have their assistance in this horrible scene. Assuming the same hadn't happened to them...
So instead, Iris didn't cross the river to Vorch but headed west toward Gothia. It required going through the forest that surrounded the kingdom, something she was very familiar with. The forest that surrounding Fetyr reached through Gothia and was very similar in wildlife and flora available. Tipping her off, the birds went silent, the forest grew still. There was something inside besides her, and she was getting closer and closer to it. She darted behind a tree with the intent to climb up it and hide, but then she saw the two figures more clearly. Two men, talking with one another. With her hearing, she could hear Erisdar mentioned in their comments. Were they with the attack? Were they of Gothia and knew? Were they enemy or ally? What if neither?
Pulling out her crossbow from the sling on her back, she tread quietly closer to them. She could stalk them or approach them, and Iris didn't know the right answer in this situation. She was a woman, they were men. If they were enemies, what could happen to her? NO. Iris refused to be stopped short by gender. She was strong and wise, a proud Dragon Warrior of her people. Iris pulled up her head scarf and covered her mouth. It was a heavy cloth that had an armor made from shed off scales from her sides. Not as potent as the ones grown into her sides, but still far stronger than any iron or steel. Pointing her crossbow straight at the soldier who wore armor, focusing in on the weak spot between the armor in his neck. "What purpose do you have in Erisdar?" She spoke to them in a gruff voice muffled by the scarf as she stepped out from behind the tree.
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