Sleepless_Dreamer
(semi)functioning human
Rites of the Blood Stone
Blood shall wash away the Darkness.
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Rites of the Blood Stone (Closed)
- Thread starter Sleepless_Dreamer
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Rites of the Blood Stone
Blood shall wash away the Darkness.
Sleepless_Dreamer
(semi)functioning human
Nantgarth.
It seemed half a world away. In essence, it was. Perhaps even farther. The dim, muddy lakeside town seemed several worlds away from the kingdom of Crastor. And all of these places felt like eternities away from home. Home. Arella had not done this much traveling since she had left her tribe lands. She had been gone from the castle for three moons now. She had convinced the King that her kind needed to complete a pilgrimage once every ten name days, to restore the reserves of their power from the four Totems. The fact that her power was, in essence, his power had lead Ulric to approve the absence. Men were so easily blinded.
Arella walked beneath the wooden sign that hung on crude chains. "Nantgarth" had been etched in poor workmanship upon the wood. The town seemed boorish and crude, yet as she walked its street the Therian could feel the faintest bit of power running beneath her feet. Earth Mother was here, simply content to sleep dormant beneath the surface. It was a comforting thought, as Arella felt so out of place among the people with their steel and swords and horse drawn carts. Not to mention the fact that Nantgarth was a town of olive-skinned people with predominantly dark features. Arella was certainly neither of those things. While her people could take up the guise of any animal they Bonded with, they were strictly forbidden from taking the guise of any other human. They were given one human form, and that was all.
Despite the heat and the thick, humid air, Arella had opted to keep her hood up in an attempts to hide her fair skin and fiery hair. The rest of her exotic features, her green eyes with the faint scars running across each one, full lips and long nose were difficult to mask. She was given more than a few looks as she passed through, but for the most part people seemed to be giving her a wide berth, as if she were some sort of wraith haunting the town.
She, of course, had no idea where he would be... if he would be there at all. She had been on the trail of the true heir of Crastor for some time, now. Magical aide from a seer had pointed her in the right direction, but she had no idea what the man would have looked like. The only thing she had to go off of were the portraits of the prince in his youth, and the features that his wicked Uncle may have shared with him. But what she did know could be perhaps more useful than all of that. His name. And names were powerful, powerful things.
The Therian had been through enough towns like this one to know that if you wanted to know something, you went to the tavern. Rumors and gossip could point you in any direction, but it always originated from the ale house. She followed the smell of mead, sweat and stew and the sounds of shouts and music to the Raven's Eye tavern. Her own eyes were rolling at the horrible name, but she entered it nonetheless. The activity didn't stop, didn't even miss a beat, when she entered. She was just a cloaked nobody, after all. But the air in here was stifling, and the hood was obstructing her view.
It can't be helped... She thought as she cautiously, reluctantly, removed her hood from her head. Her fiery tresses seemed to burst into the room like sunlight in the darkness. She stuck out like a sore thumb. Feeling glances upon her, she moved with serpentine grace toward the bar. On her way there she was, more than once, asked to show "just what she was hiding beneath that cloak". One look from her haunting eyes were enough to chase most away, though. For that, she was thankful... she just hoped it wasn't enough to keep anyone with useful information from talking to her.
It seemed half a world away. In essence, it was. Perhaps even farther. The dim, muddy lakeside town seemed several worlds away from the kingdom of Crastor. And all of these places felt like eternities away from home. Home. Arella had not done this much traveling since she had left her tribe lands. She had been gone from the castle for three moons now. She had convinced the King that her kind needed to complete a pilgrimage once every ten name days, to restore the reserves of their power from the four Totems. The fact that her power was, in essence, his power had lead Ulric to approve the absence. Men were so easily blinded.
Arella walked beneath the wooden sign that hung on crude chains. "Nantgarth" had been etched in poor workmanship upon the wood. The town seemed boorish and crude, yet as she walked its street the Therian could feel the faintest bit of power running beneath her feet. Earth Mother was here, simply content to sleep dormant beneath the surface. It was a comforting thought, as Arella felt so out of place among the people with their steel and swords and horse drawn carts. Not to mention the fact that Nantgarth was a town of olive-skinned people with predominantly dark features. Arella was certainly neither of those things. While her people could take up the guise of any animal they Bonded with, they were strictly forbidden from taking the guise of any other human. They were given one human form, and that was all.
Despite the heat and the thick, humid air, Arella had opted to keep her hood up in an attempts to hide her fair skin and fiery hair. The rest of her exotic features, her green eyes with the faint scars running across each one, full lips and long nose were difficult to mask. She was given more than a few looks as she passed through, but for the most part people seemed to be giving her a wide berth, as if she were some sort of wraith haunting the town.
She, of course, had no idea where he would be... if he would be there at all. She had been on the trail of the true heir of Crastor for some time, now. Magical aide from a seer had pointed her in the right direction, but she had no idea what the man would have looked like. The only thing she had to go off of were the portraits of the prince in his youth, and the features that his wicked Uncle may have shared with him. But what she did know could be perhaps more useful than all of that. His name. And names were powerful, powerful things.
The Therian had been through enough towns like this one to know that if you wanted to know something, you went to the tavern. Rumors and gossip could point you in any direction, but it always originated from the ale house. She followed the smell of mead, sweat and stew and the sounds of shouts and music to the Raven's Eye tavern. Her own eyes were rolling at the horrible name, but she entered it nonetheless. The activity didn't stop, didn't even miss a beat, when she entered. She was just a cloaked nobody, after all. But the air in here was stifling, and the hood was obstructing her view.
It can't be helped... She thought as she cautiously, reluctantly, removed her hood from her head. Her fiery tresses seemed to burst into the room like sunlight in the darkness. She stuck out like a sore thumb. Feeling glances upon her, she moved with serpentine grace toward the bar. On her way there she was, more than once, asked to show "just what she was hiding beneath that cloak". One look from her haunting eyes were enough to chase most away, though. For that, she was thankful... she just hoped it wasn't enough to keep anyone with useful information from talking to her.
Gobbo
Tactical Goat
Once again, like every night this past month, Elias was spending his time in the Raven's Eye tavern. Nantgarth was not his first choice for a place to stay, nor would it ever be... But the nearby ruins of Castle Nantgarth and the lure of the treasure within was too much for him to pass up. So, the muddy lakeside town was his base of operations for now, and though the castle didn't yield much in the way of gold, it was enough to keep him in ale for the duration of his stay.
He had always considered himself a fairly proficient gambler, but something was off tonight. As he sat at the table near the back of the tavern watching the dice fall, they seemed to always fall in such a way that lost him gold. The other three seated with him didn't seem to notice, between the yelling and cursing, and the harassment of the barmaid. Elias, however, did. This wasn't just a string of bad luck. His striking blue eyes were narrowed, watching the hands of the other players like a hawk. His lips were pursed tight, hidden under his full beard. It wasn't until the player to his right, a portly man with grease stains on his shirt reached for his tankard did Elias see it. A flash of metal hidden under his sleeve.
Elias' hand shot out, striking like a snake. He grabbed the man's wrist, sending the tankard and ale flying a few feet away as his grip tightened.
"Kail..." he hissed darkly, listening to the man yelp in pain as his grip tightened. He felt the man's wrist bones grind in his palm, threatening to break under the pressure.
"If you're going to cheat, then don't get caught." With an equally fast motion he yanked the man's sleeve up, revealing a metal tube containing more dice.
Elias pulled back for a moment before suddenly slamming his forehead into the bridge of Kail's nose, the yell of pain and the sound of bones breaking cutting through the music and chatter. With a spray of blood the man fell backwards, unconscious before he hit the filthy wooden floor. Elias used his arm to wipe the blood from his face, leaning over to yank the man's coin purse from his belt. It was then that he shot a glare to the other two, who had gone white after witnessing the altercation.
"The fee for trying to cheat me. Do either of you have a problem with that?" Elias growled, and was met by a quick shake of the head by the both of them.
"Good." was all he said, standing from the table. He grabbed his tankard and finished it, tucking the coin purse into a pouch on his belt as he made his way back over to the bar. Only the allure of more mead would fix his mood now.
He had always considered himself a fairly proficient gambler, but something was off tonight. As he sat at the table near the back of the tavern watching the dice fall, they seemed to always fall in such a way that lost him gold. The other three seated with him didn't seem to notice, between the yelling and cursing, and the harassment of the barmaid. Elias, however, did. This wasn't just a string of bad luck. His striking blue eyes were narrowed, watching the hands of the other players like a hawk. His lips were pursed tight, hidden under his full beard. It wasn't until the player to his right, a portly man with grease stains on his shirt reached for his tankard did Elias see it. A flash of metal hidden under his sleeve.
Elias' hand shot out, striking like a snake. He grabbed the man's wrist, sending the tankard and ale flying a few feet away as his grip tightened.
"Kail..." he hissed darkly, listening to the man yelp in pain as his grip tightened. He felt the man's wrist bones grind in his palm, threatening to break under the pressure.
"If you're going to cheat, then don't get caught." With an equally fast motion he yanked the man's sleeve up, revealing a metal tube containing more dice.
Elias pulled back for a moment before suddenly slamming his forehead into the bridge of Kail's nose, the yell of pain and the sound of bones breaking cutting through the music and chatter. With a spray of blood the man fell backwards, unconscious before he hit the filthy wooden floor. Elias used his arm to wipe the blood from his face, leaning over to yank the man's coin purse from his belt. It was then that he shot a glare to the other two, who had gone white after witnessing the altercation.
"The fee for trying to cheat me. Do either of you have a problem with that?" Elias growled, and was met by a quick shake of the head by the both of them.
"Good." was all he said, standing from the table. He grabbed his tankard and finished it, tucking the coin purse into a pouch on his belt as he made his way back over to the bar. Only the allure of more mead would fix his mood now.
Sleepless_Dreamer
(semi)functioning human
It would perhaps always remain true that like attracted like. Arella was making this observation of the tavern's patrons when an interesting individual approached her. He was an impossibly old man, far too old to be in a place like this, with eyes like goat's milk. What remained of his teeth were decaying, and his dark, weathered skin seemed harder than any leather the Therian had ever seen. He took a position standing next to Arella as if she were an old friend. The barkeep was just delivering her a mug of wine when the old man turned his head to look at her. At the same time, Arella looked at him.
"A flower in the desert," the old crow said in a wobbly voice. "The sun will shine on it the hardest, in hopes of killing it. Yet the fattest raindrops will fall upon it, in hopes of keeping it alive." His shaky hand reached up to touch his own face, near his seemingly sightless eyes. Arella quickly became self conscious of her own scarred eyes and found herself touching her face, too. "Sun and rain and time change everything they touch. But I have found that the eyes remain the same."
His frail lips parted in a smile, as if he knew some secret the rest of the world did not. Moments after he had smiled, the commotion had broken out at one of the dice tables. The noise was enough to cause heads to turn, Arella's included, in the direction of the skirmish. With all the bodies packing the floor, it was hard for her to see exactly what had happened or who was involved. She supposed it had something to do with money. It always seemed to, when it came to men. Money, power, and pride would get them more riled up than an attack on their own mother, it seemed. When the trouble seemed to have died down, Arella turned her attention back to the mysterious old man. She had plenty of questions for him. Yet... he was gone.
Arella turned quickly, in hopes of catching sight of the old man. Yet, as she did so, another man was approaching the bar. Her turning motion had caused her to bump into him, sending her elbow into his ribs and spilling some of her wine on the floor. Her emerald eyes looked up to see a bearded, scowling face before her. The slightest remnants of blood remained on him, and Arella was almost certain he'd been at least partially responsible for all that noise a few moments ago. Staring at him, she felt the strangest of sensations slithering up her spine. Like there was something she was supposed to be doing, something she needed to remember.
....the eyes remain the same.
"A flower in the desert," the old crow said in a wobbly voice. "The sun will shine on it the hardest, in hopes of killing it. Yet the fattest raindrops will fall upon it, in hopes of keeping it alive." His shaky hand reached up to touch his own face, near his seemingly sightless eyes. Arella quickly became self conscious of her own scarred eyes and found herself touching her face, too. "Sun and rain and time change everything they touch. But I have found that the eyes remain the same."
His frail lips parted in a smile, as if he knew some secret the rest of the world did not. Moments after he had smiled, the commotion had broken out at one of the dice tables. The noise was enough to cause heads to turn, Arella's included, in the direction of the skirmish. With all the bodies packing the floor, it was hard for her to see exactly what had happened or who was involved. She supposed it had something to do with money. It always seemed to, when it came to men. Money, power, and pride would get them more riled up than an attack on their own mother, it seemed. When the trouble seemed to have died down, Arella turned her attention back to the mysterious old man. She had plenty of questions for him. Yet... he was gone.
Arella turned quickly, in hopes of catching sight of the old man. Yet, as she did so, another man was approaching the bar. Her turning motion had caused her to bump into him, sending her elbow into his ribs and spilling some of her wine on the floor. Her emerald eyes looked up to see a bearded, scowling face before her. The slightest remnants of blood remained on him, and Arella was almost certain he'd been at least partially responsible for all that noise a few moments ago. Staring at him, she felt the strangest of sensations slithering up her spine. Like there was something she was supposed to be doing, something she needed to remember.
....the eyes remain the same.
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Gobbo
Tactical Goat
Elias had been so put off by the altercation that he hardly even noticed the fire-haired woman standing next to him. At least until she bumped into him. It wasn't a hard hit by any means, but it was enough to get his attention.
He turned his eyes to look at her for a moment, glad for the distraction she offered.
"Careful. The wine here is too good to waste." he chided, a tiny smile pulling at his lips. He found that the longer he looked at her, the more drawn into her beauty he was. The fiery red hair, crystal green eyes, her soft lips... He nearly forgot why he was standing at the bar in the first place.
"I will say, it's not often a woman of your beauty comes to dingy little taverns like this. You aren't lost, are you?" he asked, finally pulling his gaze away from her to get the bartender's attention. The man brought over a bottle and filled his tankard, receiving a gold coin in return. He brought the mug to his lips and drank deeply before turning back to the woman, his armor clanking lightly as he leaned against the bar. There was something about her that almost seemed familiar... despite the fact that he had never seen this woman in his life. Whatever it was, he couldn't put his finger on it.
He turned his eyes to look at her for a moment, glad for the distraction she offered.
"Careful. The wine here is too good to waste." he chided, a tiny smile pulling at his lips. He found that the longer he looked at her, the more drawn into her beauty he was. The fiery red hair, crystal green eyes, her soft lips... He nearly forgot why he was standing at the bar in the first place.
"I will say, it's not often a woman of your beauty comes to dingy little taverns like this. You aren't lost, are you?" he asked, finally pulling his gaze away from her to get the bartender's attention. The man brought over a bottle and filled his tankard, receiving a gold coin in return. He brought the mug to his lips and drank deeply before turning back to the woman, his armor clanking lightly as he leaned against the bar. There was something about her that almost seemed familiar... despite the fact that he had never seen this woman in his life. Whatever it was, he couldn't put his finger on it.
Sleepless_Dreamer
(semi)functioning human
The thing that Arella was supposed to remember was pushed further into the back of her mind as soon as the man opened his mouth. She didn't know why she was surprised to find that the first words he spoke were some poor attempt at... what was it called... wooing? Arella was still getting used to some of the cultural differences in this land. Her mother had only been able to given her very little knowledge of the land of men and the human men within. If you remember nothing else, remember this. Food, fighting, and fucking is what they like. So far that knowledge had proven to be quite true.
"No... not lost." Her voice demanded attention, both in the sense that it was just quiet enough to make you really need to pay attention to hear it, and in the sense of its low, exotic allure. "Not yet, at least."
Perhaps not the best reply, but she was still learning the art of "turning men down" without making them fear for their lives. She found herself looking at the smile, so small it was almost hidden within that dark beard he wore on his face. But the old man's words reminded her of what she was supposed to have remembered before. She lifted her scarred eyes up his face until they were resting on his own dark orbs. The brow line was a bit more harsh, more pronounced, but those dark, almond-shaped eyes were... Yes! She thought. Of course, she had no idea that he was keeping his name a secret, otherwise she might have been a bit quieter about the next words she spoke. But, then again... she might not have been.
"You're Elias..." she said slowly, testing the words on her own lips. "Elias Bane." She spoke his name with a sense of finality, as if she were some goddess of death sent to bring him to the underworld. "I have been looking for you for a... very... long time."
"No... not lost." Her voice demanded attention, both in the sense that it was just quiet enough to make you really need to pay attention to hear it, and in the sense of its low, exotic allure. "Not yet, at least."
Perhaps not the best reply, but she was still learning the art of "turning men down" without making them fear for their lives. She found herself looking at the smile, so small it was almost hidden within that dark beard he wore on his face. But the old man's words reminded her of what she was supposed to have remembered before. She lifted her scarred eyes up his face until they were resting on his own dark orbs. The brow line was a bit more harsh, more pronounced, but those dark, almond-shaped eyes were... Yes! She thought. Of course, she had no idea that he was keeping his name a secret, otherwise she might have been a bit quieter about the next words she spoke. But, then again... she might not have been.
"You're Elias..." she said slowly, testing the words on her own lips. "Elias Bane." She spoke his name with a sense of finality, as if she were some goddess of death sent to bring him to the underworld. "I have been looking for you for a... very... long time."
Gobbo
Tactical Goat
Elias smirked slightly, taking another long drink from his tankard. "Well, try not to get lost around here. Not that you would be in any danger, of course... But the woods go on for miles." he said as he set his tankard down, his eyes drifting along her face. Her voice was almost like a song, unearthly and beautiful. He couldn't help but feel a chill slide through his spine at the sound of her voice, though his eyes didn't betray his thoughts.
When she spoke again, however... his eyes narrowed slightly, an almost imperceptible twitch. That was a name he hadn't heard in a very, very long time. Only to hear it slip past the lips of this woman. He stayed silent for a long while, disguising his reaction by taking another long drink from his tankard. By the time he finished, it was nearly empty again.
"I'm sorry, but you must have me mistaken for someone else." he said, the playfulness in his voice gone now. It was replaced by a steel edge, sharp as a freshly honed blade.
He finished his drink and left the tankard on the bar before stepping past her. "Good luck in your search." he said as a farewell, making his way towards the door. He moved through the crowd with ease, despite being laden down with weapons and armor. Within moments he was outside, the humid air stifling but not nearly as bad as inside the tavern. He let out a deep sigh, pausing in the street as he tried to figure out how he had been found. He had changed his name, spent so much time away from the castle... He had just started to believe that he'd been forgotten.
When she spoke again, however... his eyes narrowed slightly, an almost imperceptible twitch. That was a name he hadn't heard in a very, very long time. Only to hear it slip past the lips of this woman. He stayed silent for a long while, disguising his reaction by taking another long drink from his tankard. By the time he finished, it was nearly empty again.
"I'm sorry, but you must have me mistaken for someone else." he said, the playfulness in his voice gone now. It was replaced by a steel edge, sharp as a freshly honed blade.
He finished his drink and left the tankard on the bar before stepping past her. "Good luck in your search." he said as a farewell, making his way towards the door. He moved through the crowd with ease, despite being laden down with weapons and armor. Within moments he was outside, the humid air stifling but not nearly as bad as inside the tavern. He let out a deep sigh, pausing in the street as he tried to figure out how he had been found. He had changed his name, spent so much time away from the castle... He had just started to believe that he'd been forgotten.
Sleepless_Dreamer
(semi)functioning human
The man was good at hiding his reaction, that much was true. But he wasn't perfect. There was a guise there, and as a woman who worse masks, figuratively and literally, every day in the castle that he once called home, Arella knew how to see through a guise. She could almost feel the coldness suddenly exuding from him. If she truly had mistaken him for someone else, then he would not have changed his demeanor toward her in such a manner. He would have told her she had been mistaken, and likely continued with his mindless flirtation. The fact that he didn't, and even went so far as to leave... spoke volumes.
Still, as he walked away, Arella found herself frozen. There were so many thoughts circling around in her mind that she didn't know what to do. Here he was, the man she had been looking for, for months now. The man who had been little more than a ghost story. She'd had no idea if he was alive, if he was even real, yet she had scoured across sea and sand for him. He was the key. He was the one thing she needed to make Ulric vulnerable again. To kill the man that had slaughtered her people. No... not only slaughtered them, but ingested them in some sick, power hungry ritual. Arella stood there with her hands clenched into fists at her side, so tightly they were shaking. All the while, her green eyes watched him go. Her father's voice sounded in her mind.
Au'rhealia... go!
The words he had shouted to her in the forest that day were what spurred her on now. The wine completely forgotten, she weaved her way through the crowd with only a little more difficulty than Elias had. She burst through the door and out into the warm night air. Her eyes scanned up and down the street, but it was dark, and there was a small crowd lingering around outside of the tavern. This would not do.
In a swirl of color, her green hues shifted to an almost golden color that was a thin ring outside of her enlarged pupils. What little light there was on the street suddenly became as bright as if the sun were shining at its strongest. Every fine detail became as clear as day. There! She spotted him moving around the corner, just before he went out of view. She blinked, and her eyes returned to their normal state. After breathing a quiet thanks to the black cat with whom she had Bonded those eyes from, Arella quickly moved after Elias. She was able to catch up to him. Rather than stopping behind him, she circled around and came to stand at a stop in front of him. Despite her stature, which was obviously quite shorter than his, she seemed to hold an imposing sort of presence about her.
"No..." She said, a bit breathlessly. "I am not mistaken. You and I both know that. For, if I were, you would not have left in such a manner." Swallowing, Arella straightened herself a bit and inclined her chin ever so slightly. Despite the majority of her figure being hidden by the black cloak, she had a certain manner of presenting herself that was rather impressive.
"Elias Bane, you must return to Crastor. The kingdom needs you. I need you." It was certainly a strange confession coming from a complete stranger, but that didn't make it any less true.
Still, as he walked away, Arella found herself frozen. There were so many thoughts circling around in her mind that she didn't know what to do. Here he was, the man she had been looking for, for months now. The man who had been little more than a ghost story. She'd had no idea if he was alive, if he was even real, yet she had scoured across sea and sand for him. He was the key. He was the one thing she needed to make Ulric vulnerable again. To kill the man that had slaughtered her people. No... not only slaughtered them, but ingested them in some sick, power hungry ritual. Arella stood there with her hands clenched into fists at her side, so tightly they were shaking. All the while, her green eyes watched him go. Her father's voice sounded in her mind.
Au'rhealia... go!
The words he had shouted to her in the forest that day were what spurred her on now. The wine completely forgotten, she weaved her way through the crowd with only a little more difficulty than Elias had. She burst through the door and out into the warm night air. Her eyes scanned up and down the street, but it was dark, and there was a small crowd lingering around outside of the tavern. This would not do.
In a swirl of color, her green hues shifted to an almost golden color that was a thin ring outside of her enlarged pupils. What little light there was on the street suddenly became as bright as if the sun were shining at its strongest. Every fine detail became as clear as day. There! She spotted him moving around the corner, just before he went out of view. She blinked, and her eyes returned to their normal state. After breathing a quiet thanks to the black cat with whom she had Bonded those eyes from, Arella quickly moved after Elias. She was able to catch up to him. Rather than stopping behind him, she circled around and came to stand at a stop in front of him. Despite her stature, which was obviously quite shorter than his, she seemed to hold an imposing sort of presence about her.
"No..." She said, a bit breathlessly. "I am not mistaken. You and I both know that. For, if I were, you would not have left in such a manner." Swallowing, Arella straightened herself a bit and inclined her chin ever so slightly. Despite the majority of her figure being hidden by the black cloak, she had a certain manner of presenting herself that was rather impressive.
"Elias Bane, you must return to Crastor. The kingdom needs you. I need you." It was certainly a strange confession coming from a complete stranger, but that didn't make it any less true.
Gobbo
Tactical Goat
There wasn't any time to waste. Elias was moving quickly, knowing that he had to get his things and leave. He had spent fourteen years away from the castle, fourteen of the best years of his life. He had grown accustomed to freedom, there was no chance he was going to give that up for anyone. No matter how alluring they were.
He was so caught up in his thoughts that when she circled around in front of him, his reflexes reacted before he did. He started to draw his sword, the blade halfway out of its sheath before he stopped himself. His eyes narrowed sharply as he listened to her speak, his blade returning to its place on his hip. He had spent so long running from who he was, forging his own path in the world... He sighed heavily when she finished speaking, taking a few steps closer to her.
His eyes bored into hers with the intensity of a wild animal's. When he spoke, his voice was calm and even, though it was obvious that he was trying to keep his temper in check.
"No. I don't care about that place, and I certainly don't care about you or your needs. Get my brother to do whatever it is you tracked me down for." he stepped past her, a low growl echoing in his chest. He was going to gather his things and leave, and this woman wasn't going to stop him.
He was so caught up in his thoughts that when she circled around in front of him, his reflexes reacted before he did. He started to draw his sword, the blade halfway out of its sheath before he stopped himself. His eyes narrowed sharply as he listened to her speak, his blade returning to its place on his hip. He had spent so long running from who he was, forging his own path in the world... He sighed heavily when she finished speaking, taking a few steps closer to her.
His eyes bored into hers with the intensity of a wild animal's. When he spoke, his voice was calm and even, though it was obvious that he was trying to keep his temper in check.
"No. I don't care about that place, and I certainly don't care about you or your needs. Get my brother to do whatever it is you tracked me down for." he stepped past her, a low growl echoing in his chest. He was going to gather his things and leave, and this woman wasn't going to stop him.
Sleepless_Dreamer
(semi)functioning human
An instinctive step back was taken when Elias brandished his weapon. While Arella had spent enough time around the steel forged world of man, that didn't necessarily mean she was comfortable with it all. Swords had cut down her people, her family. She had vowed to never pick up a blade, herself. The powers of the animals with which she had Bonded would be enough for her. She was sure of it. Even now, those animals were with her. They were sharing her reaction in response to the threat. Wolf and raven, tiger and fox, they all readied themselves for a fight.
Luckily, a fight did not come. Instead, Elias returned his sword to its sheath. The look in his eyes was almost mirrored by Arella's own vividly green hues. The animals inside of her were staring right back out at him through her wild eyes. When she heard his growl, she couldn't help but to growl back... but hers was much less human sounding than his.
Her rational brain remained in charge, however. This was mostly due to the fact that his words had struck a chord with her. His brother... he had no idea. Arella felt her heart sink. She turned toward Elias as he walked past her.
"Your brother is dead."
She said clearly, and with a sense of finality, so there would be no mistaking her words. She, perhaps, should have been more delicate about the delivery of such news. Especially given the fact that her own family had been killed as well. As it were, there were still some parts of her that simply had not yet adopted the customs of sugar coating things. She let her words sink before continuing.
"Murdered. By the same man who murdered my people. Ulric Bane."
Luckily, a fight did not come. Instead, Elias returned his sword to its sheath. The look in his eyes was almost mirrored by Arella's own vividly green hues. The animals inside of her were staring right back out at him through her wild eyes. When she heard his growl, she couldn't help but to growl back... but hers was much less human sounding than his.
Her rational brain remained in charge, however. This was mostly due to the fact that his words had struck a chord with her. His brother... he had no idea. Arella felt her heart sink. She turned toward Elias as he walked past her.
"Your brother is dead."
She said clearly, and with a sense of finality, so there would be no mistaking her words. She, perhaps, should have been more delicate about the delivery of such news. Especially given the fact that her own family had been killed as well. As it were, there were still some parts of her that simply had not yet adopted the customs of sugar coating things. She let her words sink before continuing.
"Murdered. By the same man who murdered my people. Ulric Bane."
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Gobbo
Tactical Goat
There was something feral about this woman... and though he'd never admit it or show signs of it, hearing her growl like that send a chill shooting through his spine. He was tempted to just cut her down and call it a night... it wouldn't be the first time that someone had tried to get in his way. She also knew who he really was, and that was information that could -not- get out.
He kept walking, debating with himself about what to do when he heard her next words.
It was as if an arrow pierced his chest, or a blade had slid between his ribs to pierce his heart. The shock of pain caused him to stop walking, her words echoing in his mind. His brother, the one person he'd ever been able to confide with... The only reason he would find himself regretting running off like he did. Gone. Murdered by his uncle.
After a few long moments he collected himself, looking over his shoulder at her. The anger was gone from his eyes, replaced by a poorly hidden look of sadness and regret. "If my brother is gone, then I have no reason to return to that place." he sighed softly. He watched her for a few more moments before he continued walking, heading towards a vacant house that was little more than a shack. He opened the door and stepped inside, conjuring a small flame in his palm to light a few candles with. He didn't have a strong grasp on magic without using enchantments, but luckily creating a small flame was easy. He didn't even bother closing the door, not because he was inviting her inside, but because he was still trying to process the news about his brother.
He kept walking, debating with himself about what to do when he heard her next words.
It was as if an arrow pierced his chest, or a blade had slid between his ribs to pierce his heart. The shock of pain caused him to stop walking, her words echoing in his mind. His brother, the one person he'd ever been able to confide with... The only reason he would find himself regretting running off like he did. Gone. Murdered by his uncle.
After a few long moments he collected himself, looking over his shoulder at her. The anger was gone from his eyes, replaced by a poorly hidden look of sadness and regret. "If my brother is gone, then I have no reason to return to that place." he sighed softly. He watched her for a few more moments before he continued walking, heading towards a vacant house that was little more than a shack. He opened the door and stepped inside, conjuring a small flame in his palm to light a few candles with. He didn't have a strong grasp on magic without using enchantments, but luckily creating a small flame was easy. He didn't even bother closing the door, not because he was inviting her inside, but because he was still trying to process the news about his brother.
Sleepless_Dreamer
(semi)functioning human
Keen eyes picked up on the lack of luster that had fallen upon Elias's face. The news had affected him. So... he wasn't as uncaring as he appeared. Arella watched him, her hands clasped together in front of her, and waited for him to say something. She was positive that he would hear her out, now. Certainly he would want to know how it all happened, and why Arella needed him to come back... right?
Wrong. Her jaw dropped, and she was left speechless as he seemed to simply dismiss the matter and walk away. ...no reason to return to that place. His cold, empty words resounded deep within her. It felt like a slap to the face, given the fact that his return meant avenging her own family's death. Even though he had no idea, Arella still felt offended by the matter. She stood there for several moments, speechless and unsure of what to do now.
After the numb moments had passed, her feet found themselves carrying her to the small lean-to of a home. I cannot give up. She thought to herself. Not now. She had come all this way, had gone through so much to get to this point. She had to find some way to convince him. Silently, she entered the small house. Her emerald eyes glowed in the candlelight, and the fire seemed to call out to her own fiery hair. She stopped a few feet within the doorway.
"I have served him," she said without warning. "For nearly a year, I have stoked his pride... his ego... his blood lust. I have watched him live, the very man whom I watched cut my people down. He has killed before, he will kill again... and I have been powerless to stop him."
The Therian folded her arms across her chest and bore her eyes into Elias, regardless of whether or not he was looking at her. Despite the pain and anger she felt inside at the sheer thought of Ulric, she somehow managed to keep her face strong and her head held high.
"Because I am not numb to the murder of my blood, I did not imagine that you would be so cold to the murder of yours. You would let him tarnish your name, you would let an entire kingdom suffer... you would have your brother's death go unavenged because... what? Your unwillingness to rule? You enjoy freedom so much that you would rob others of theirs?"
Her voice wavered, ever so slightly. It was so small, it could have been missed, but it was a sign of her exasperation, the desperation she faced every day.
"The Blood Stone waits for you, even now." He probably had no idea what she was talking about at this point. "It would grant you the power to right what has been wronged... should you want it. If not, I..." She paused and looked away. "I suppose I shall have to find another way."
Feeling tired and defeated, the mysterious woman lifted her hood back onto her head and turned back out into the night. She walked several paces into the treeline, disappearing into the darkness of the woods to gather her thoughts.
Wrong. Her jaw dropped, and she was left speechless as he seemed to simply dismiss the matter and walk away. ...no reason to return to that place. His cold, empty words resounded deep within her. It felt like a slap to the face, given the fact that his return meant avenging her own family's death. Even though he had no idea, Arella still felt offended by the matter. She stood there for several moments, speechless and unsure of what to do now.
After the numb moments had passed, her feet found themselves carrying her to the small lean-to of a home. I cannot give up. She thought to herself. Not now. She had come all this way, had gone through so much to get to this point. She had to find some way to convince him. Silently, she entered the small house. Her emerald eyes glowed in the candlelight, and the fire seemed to call out to her own fiery hair. She stopped a few feet within the doorway.
"I have served him," she said without warning. "For nearly a year, I have stoked his pride... his ego... his blood lust. I have watched him live, the very man whom I watched cut my people down. He has killed before, he will kill again... and I have been powerless to stop him."
The Therian folded her arms across her chest and bore her eyes into Elias, regardless of whether or not he was looking at her. Despite the pain and anger she felt inside at the sheer thought of Ulric, she somehow managed to keep her face strong and her head held high.
"Because I am not numb to the murder of my blood, I did not imagine that you would be so cold to the murder of yours. You would let him tarnish your name, you would let an entire kingdom suffer... you would have your brother's death go unavenged because... what? Your unwillingness to rule? You enjoy freedom so much that you would rob others of theirs?"
Her voice wavered, ever so slightly. It was so small, it could have been missed, but it was a sign of her exasperation, the desperation she faced every day.
"The Blood Stone waits for you, even now." He probably had no idea what she was talking about at this point. "It would grant you the power to right what has been wronged... should you want it. If not, I..." She paused and looked away. "I suppose I shall have to find another way."
Feeling tired and defeated, the mysterious woman lifted her hood back onto her head and turned back out into the night. She walked several paces into the treeline, disappearing into the darkness of the woods to gather her thoughts.
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Gobbo
Tactical Goat
As Elias packed his few possessions in his bag, his eyes flicked over to her when he heard her speak. He tried to ignore her words, picking up a book and thumbing through it for a moment. So that's what was familiar about her... It was faint, but he could catch the scent of home on her. Home... a word he hadn't associated with Crastor in a very long time.
He could feel his jaw tensing at her next words, his eyes flashing dangerously at her. If she was trying to strike a nerve, then she was doing a good job of it. He kept himself calm until she left, though the silence she left behind only served to make him more angry. She didn't know his history, why he had chosen the life he had... yet she had stood here and condemned him for it.
The storm that was brewing in him was growing worse by the moment, and he shoved the last of his things in his bag before slinging it onto his shoulder. He strode out of the shack, drawing his sword. As he did, the blade ignited in a flash of flame, throwing flickering light back into the treeline. He hadn't seen where she had gone, but it only took a moment to see her back in the trees.
The fire only accentuated the weathered lines in his face, his eyes flickering with anger as he moved over to her. His hand gripped the hilt of the sword so hard that his knuckles turned white, his other hand a blur as it shot out and grabbed the front of her cloak. He was seething, his teeth clenched as he yanked her towards him, his face only inches from hers.
"Who the hell do you think you are?" he growled, his pupils narrowed in anger. "You come out of nowhere to tell me that my only family left is dead, and then think you can just guilt trip me into doing your bidding? If you want revenge so badly, why waste your time tracking me down instead of doing it yourself?!" his voice raised in volume, nearly yelling out his last words. The anger was coming off of him in waves, the flames coming from his blade turning white with heat.
He could feel his jaw tensing at her next words, his eyes flashing dangerously at her. If she was trying to strike a nerve, then she was doing a good job of it. He kept himself calm until she left, though the silence she left behind only served to make him more angry. She didn't know his history, why he had chosen the life he had... yet she had stood here and condemned him for it.
The storm that was brewing in him was growing worse by the moment, and he shoved the last of his things in his bag before slinging it onto his shoulder. He strode out of the shack, drawing his sword. As he did, the blade ignited in a flash of flame, throwing flickering light back into the treeline. He hadn't seen where she had gone, but it only took a moment to see her back in the trees.
The fire only accentuated the weathered lines in his face, his eyes flickering with anger as he moved over to her. His hand gripped the hilt of the sword so hard that his knuckles turned white, his other hand a blur as it shot out and grabbed the front of her cloak. He was seething, his teeth clenched as he yanked her towards him, his face only inches from hers.
"Who the hell do you think you are?" he growled, his pupils narrowed in anger. "You come out of nowhere to tell me that my only family left is dead, and then think you can just guilt trip me into doing your bidding? If you want revenge so badly, why waste your time tracking me down instead of doing it yourself?!" his voice raised in volume, nearly yelling out his last words. The anger was coming off of him in waves, the flames coming from his blade turning white with heat.
Sleepless_Dreamer
(semi)functioning human
Arella had placed herself against a tree, simply looking at the canopy above her and thinking about nothing and everything at the same time. It was a hopeless caused, it seemed. It had been hopeless all along. She had just been too blind to realize it. Perhaps she had realized it all along, but she hadn't wanted to admit it to herself. That would have meant her family had died for nothing. Her people had been taken from the earth too soon... for nothing. As far as she knew, she was the last living Therian, and it meant absolutely nothing. She was still powerless against the dark, corrupt magic that always seemed to surround Ulric.
The sound of approaching footsteps pulled Arella back to the present. She stood up quickly and turned in the direction of the noise. She sensed the magic before she even saw the firelight surrounding the blade. It was a bit unsettling, but it was not dark magic. That would have been obvious. Her eyes adjusted to the change in light as Elias approached her looking like a rabid animal himself. She perhaps should have expected that he had come to give her a piece of his mind, but she never would have expected that he would have the audacity to actually touch her. His hand on her cloak sent a shiver down her spine, as if he were violating her much worse than he actually was. She gritted her teeth, and the many beasts that were inside her spirit began to make themselves known.
She had bit her tongue during his accusation, but when it seemed he was done talking she finally let loose a reply. "Don't you think if I could I would have already?!" She did not shout, but her voice had a sharp, feral edge to it that was perhaps more intimidating than if she had raised her voice. That was, perhaps, nothing in comparison to the fact that the color of her eyes seemed to be changing. It could have been an illusion, a trick played by the way the firelight was dancing upon her face, but it seemed that the greens of her eyes were changing to an almost amber color. There was also the fact that her hand was gripping the wrist of his hand that had a hold on her cloak, and her nails seemed to be biting into his skin a bit more than they should have.
"I suggest," she said through gritted teeth, "that you let go of me." She was trembling in an attempt to keep herself from shifting. "If you'd like to keep your arm..."
The sound of approaching footsteps pulled Arella back to the present. She stood up quickly and turned in the direction of the noise. She sensed the magic before she even saw the firelight surrounding the blade. It was a bit unsettling, but it was not dark magic. That would have been obvious. Her eyes adjusted to the change in light as Elias approached her looking like a rabid animal himself. She perhaps should have expected that he had come to give her a piece of his mind, but she never would have expected that he would have the audacity to actually touch her. His hand on her cloak sent a shiver down her spine, as if he were violating her much worse than he actually was. She gritted her teeth, and the many beasts that were inside her spirit began to make themselves known.
She had bit her tongue during his accusation, but when it seemed he was done talking she finally let loose a reply. "Don't you think if I could I would have already?!" She did not shout, but her voice had a sharp, feral edge to it that was perhaps more intimidating than if she had raised her voice. That was, perhaps, nothing in comparison to the fact that the color of her eyes seemed to be changing. It could have been an illusion, a trick played by the way the firelight was dancing upon her face, but it seemed that the greens of her eyes were changing to an almost amber color. There was also the fact that her hand was gripping the wrist of his hand that had a hold on her cloak, and her nails seemed to be biting into his skin a bit more than they should have.
"I suggest," she said through gritted teeth, "that you let go of me." She was trembling in an attempt to keep herself from shifting. "If you'd like to keep your arm..."
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Gobbo
Tactical Goat
Even though her nails were digging into his wrist, his anger masked any pain he might have felt from it. "You just admitted that you were too weak to exact revenge, yet you're threatening to take my arm." he growled, his grip on her cloak tightening.
He stared into her eyes, noticing the shift. At first he thought it was just the light from his sword, until he looked closer. His eyes narrowed as he glanced at her hand, noticing her nails were more like claws. A tiny smirk tugged at his lips.
"You're more than welcome to try. It wouldn't be the first time I've killed one of your kind." he hissed darkly. "You'll present just as much of a challenge as the others... you'll be bleeding out before you even land the first strike." His grip on her cloak didn't loosen, even as he felt her nails threatening to break his skin. She didn't seem to realize that she wasn't dealing with useless, pampered royalty. He'd spent too many years in the wild, and it was reflected by the feral look in his eyes. To him, she wasn't even a threat. Just a nuisance that happened to show up.
He stared into her eyes, noticing the shift. At first he thought it was just the light from his sword, until he looked closer. His eyes narrowed as he glanced at her hand, noticing her nails were more like claws. A tiny smirk tugged at his lips.
"You're more than welcome to try. It wouldn't be the first time I've killed one of your kind." he hissed darkly. "You'll present just as much of a challenge as the others... you'll be bleeding out before you even land the first strike." His grip on her cloak didn't loosen, even as he felt her nails threatening to break his skin. She didn't seem to realize that she wasn't dealing with useless, pampered royalty. He'd spent too many years in the wild, and it was reflected by the feral look in his eyes. To him, she wasn't even a threat. Just a nuisance that happened to show up.
Sleepless_Dreamer
(semi)functioning human
It seemed that a large ego ran in the family. Elias was just as foolishly prideful as his Uncle. He made the mistake of thinking he knew what she could and could not do. Ulric possessed dark magic, something that Arella was admittedly weak against. Elias, however, did not. She was able to sense that about him. Even though he was cold and hardened from his time abroad, he was not evil. The darkness had not corrupted him like it had his uncle. All of this meant that Arella was anything but "weak" when it came to defending herself against this arse.
"Who said anything about being weak?"
He had no idea what he was dealing with. At least... she didn't think he did. But the second he mentioned how many of "her kind" he had killed, her demeanor changed. Suddenly, it didn't matter that she needed him to get revenge on Ulric. If he had killed her kind, then he was just as guilty as the vile man. If she could not take revenge on Ulric, at least she could on him.
"Why you.... pompous... bastard."
She growled, and it actually sounded like a growl. Not a human sign of anger, not even something that you might hear from a dog. It was more like a feral snarl one might hear from something in the much more exotic lands. Arella's grip on Elias suddenly loosened, in a puff of magic and light temporarily hid the place where her body used to be. It all seemed to happen so fast. One moment, Elias was holding her firm, the next he was holding nothing but an empty cloak. When the magic cloud dissipated, the form of Arella's most fierce Bond mate had taken her human body's place. A tiger, nearly the size of a small horse, stood on all fours with her ears pinned back and her tail thrashing wildly. Her eyes held the same thin scars that Arella's did, though they were a golden color rather than green.
The tiger snarled at Elias, bearing her fangs sinking her head a bit closer to the ground, as if preparing to launch herself at him.
"Who said anything about being weak?"
He had no idea what he was dealing with. At least... she didn't think he did. But the second he mentioned how many of "her kind" he had killed, her demeanor changed. Suddenly, it didn't matter that she needed him to get revenge on Ulric. If he had killed her kind, then he was just as guilty as the vile man. If she could not take revenge on Ulric, at least she could on him.
"Why you.... pompous... bastard."
She growled, and it actually sounded like a growl. Not a human sign of anger, not even something that you might hear from a dog. It was more like a feral snarl one might hear from something in the much more exotic lands. Arella's grip on Elias suddenly loosened, in a puff of magic and light temporarily hid the place where her body used to be. It all seemed to happen so fast. One moment, Elias was holding her firm, the next he was holding nothing but an empty cloak. When the magic cloud dissipated, the form of Arella's most fierce Bond mate had taken her human body's place. A tiger, nearly the size of a small horse, stood on all fours with her ears pinned back and her tail thrashing wildly. Her eyes held the same thin scars that Arella's did, though they were a golden color rather than green.
The tiger snarled at Elias, bearing her fangs sinking her head a bit closer to the ground, as if preparing to launch herself at him.
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Gobbo
Tactical Goat
Of all the things that Elias was expecting to happen, this wasn't on the list. The growl her voice held when she spoke made him pause for a moment. He'd listened to werewolves speak before... and they certainly didn't sound like that.
He flinched when she suddenly vanished, blinking a few times to dispel the flash of light from his vision. When his vision cleared, his eyes went huge when he found himself facing down a tiger. Realization set in, and he had to fight to stop himself from just freezing in place.
He dropped the cloak and drew a dagger to fill his other hand, taking a step back as he kept his sword between him and the beast she'd turned into.
"You're... You're not a werewolf..." he muttered, shock written plainly on his face. He's faced down eight foot tall humanoid wolves before... But he'd never had to keep his blade between him and a pissed off tiger in his life. He swallowed hard, narrowing his eyes as he steeled himself.
"If you're intent on doing this, you need to understand that you will not survive." he said, the shock gone from his voice. It held a tone of determination as he slid his bag from his shoulder and let it hit the ground.
He flinched when she suddenly vanished, blinking a few times to dispel the flash of light from his vision. When his vision cleared, his eyes went huge when he found himself facing down a tiger. Realization set in, and he had to fight to stop himself from just freezing in place.
He dropped the cloak and drew a dagger to fill his other hand, taking a step back as he kept his sword between him and the beast she'd turned into.
"You're... You're not a werewolf..." he muttered, shock written plainly on his face. He's faced down eight foot tall humanoid wolves before... But he'd never had to keep his blade between him and a pissed off tiger in his life. He swallowed hard, narrowing his eyes as he steeled himself.
"If you're intent on doing this, you need to understand that you will not survive." he said, the shock gone from his voice. It held a tone of determination as he slid his bag from his shoulder and let it hit the ground.
Sleepless_Dreamer
(semi)functioning human
When in the form of animals, Arella's "human" mind sometimes took back seat. The more feral the beast, the harder it was to control. Tigers, for example, were incredibly wild things that had narrow mindsets when it came to threats. So, while Arella was perfectly capable of understanding his words, they seemed to fall upon deaf ears. At the same time, however, a normal tiger would have been wary of the fire radiating off of Elias's sword. It was a foreign, dangerous thing after all. Arella knew what fire was, though. She knew what it could do, the way it hurt, but she also knew how to avoid it. She wasn't afraid of Elias, and she still had the element of surprise on her side. She could allow him to get comfortable and think that he was facing down a tiger, and then shift into something else to throw him off.
The tiger's mouth was open, baring deadly teeth that were dripping with saliva. Her nose was wrinkled up in her ferocious snarl, and she seemed to grow bigger by the second by allowing her fur to stand up. She slowly began to walk a circle around Elias, sizing him up and finding openings. When she had turned so she was facing the deeper part of the woods and he was facing the outskirts, she noticed something. Her green eyes seemed to be looking right at Elias, but they were actually looking past him. Suddenly, she charged, and it seemed that Elias was going to be going face to face with a tiger after all.
However, probably much to his surprise, the tiger leaped right past him. As she did so, a flurry of magic surrounded her once more. The ground had just started to develop the slightest tremor when the magic and light dissipated. Where there once was a tiger, there now was a black bull with wide, curled horns sprouting from its head. Just as it appeared, a sizable orc could be seen, skin a green so dark it was almost black, charging down a slight hill toward Elias and Arella. He held a large, curved sword whose blade split into two at the top. The bull met him head on, delivering a devastating blow into the huge creature's midsection and then tossing her head for good measure, in hopes of catching the orc with a horn.
The orc's midsection was slashed by a horn, and he was sent flying backwards from the impact of the charge. As he did so, however, he flailed his sword in a last ditch attempt to get an attack in. The blade caught the bull on the shoulder, cutting rather deep into the skin. The bull that was Arella released a loud bleating noise of both pain and frustration. She took a step back, perhaps to ready for another charge, but already she had a limp. Blood shone in the moonlight as it trickled down her shoulder and leg. The orc, though wounded badly, didn't seem done yet. He was slowly but surely bringing himself to rise, despite the fact that his innards were trying to spill out of his belly.
The tiger's mouth was open, baring deadly teeth that were dripping with saliva. Her nose was wrinkled up in her ferocious snarl, and she seemed to grow bigger by the second by allowing her fur to stand up. She slowly began to walk a circle around Elias, sizing him up and finding openings. When she had turned so she was facing the deeper part of the woods and he was facing the outskirts, she noticed something. Her green eyes seemed to be looking right at Elias, but they were actually looking past him. Suddenly, she charged, and it seemed that Elias was going to be going face to face with a tiger after all.
However, probably much to his surprise, the tiger leaped right past him. As she did so, a flurry of magic surrounded her once more. The ground had just started to develop the slightest tremor when the magic and light dissipated. Where there once was a tiger, there now was a black bull with wide, curled horns sprouting from its head. Just as it appeared, a sizable orc could be seen, skin a green so dark it was almost black, charging down a slight hill toward Elias and Arella. He held a large, curved sword whose blade split into two at the top. The bull met him head on, delivering a devastating blow into the huge creature's midsection and then tossing her head for good measure, in hopes of catching the orc with a horn.
The orc's midsection was slashed by a horn, and he was sent flying backwards from the impact of the charge. As he did so, however, he flailed his sword in a last ditch attempt to get an attack in. The blade caught the bull on the shoulder, cutting rather deep into the skin. The bull that was Arella released a loud bleating noise of both pain and frustration. She took a step back, perhaps to ready for another charge, but already she had a limp. Blood shone in the moonlight as it trickled down her shoulder and leg. The orc, though wounded badly, didn't seem done yet. He was slowly but surely bringing himself to rise, despite the fact that his innards were trying to spill out of his belly.
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Gobbo
Tactical Goat
He wasn't sure why he thought that trying to reason with her in this form would work... but it had been worth a try. As she circled him he moved, making sure he was facing her at all times. His eyes never left hers, reflecting a staunch determination. He wasn't going to be taken out by someone like her, and if he did he was going to take her down with him. He readied himself as she seemed to tense up further, his grip changing on the blades.
When she jumped he slid to the side, bringing his sword down. He had aimed at the back of her neck, but only found himself cutting through air as she shot right past him. He stared at her for a long moment before he picked out the orc in the darkness and cursed under his breath. He hated dealing with orcs... They were strong, they smelled horrible, and they never knew when to give up. He started to give chase, only making it a few steps when she changed her form again.
Seeing her change again made him freeze in place, his eyes huge as he watched her. His jaw went slack is realization dawned on him as to what she really was...
"T-Therian..." he muttered, caught off guard so badly that he didn't snap out of it until she had gored the orc. He shook his head quickly and moved closer, his dagger's blade lighting up the same way his sword had. When the orc started to get up he growled, cocking his arm back before flinging the dagger with expert aim. It shot forward, leaving a streak of light before burying itself deep into the orc's eye socket. The blade itself was long enough to reach the brain, and within a few moments the threat itself had passed.
He retrieved the dagger, cleaning the gore from it before putting it away. He sheathed his sword as well, the night growing darker without his light source.
"You're hurt." he said simply, looking at the wound from a safe distance. He didn't know if she was going to turn and attack him again, but he wanted to make sure that she knew he wasn't in the mood to fight anymore.
"You're a Therian. I thought your kind died off... and here I mistook you for a werewolf."
When she jumped he slid to the side, bringing his sword down. He had aimed at the back of her neck, but only found himself cutting through air as she shot right past him. He stared at her for a long moment before he picked out the orc in the darkness and cursed under his breath. He hated dealing with orcs... They were strong, they smelled horrible, and they never knew when to give up. He started to give chase, only making it a few steps when she changed her form again.
Seeing her change again made him freeze in place, his eyes huge as he watched her. His jaw went slack is realization dawned on him as to what she really was...
"T-Therian..." he muttered, caught off guard so badly that he didn't snap out of it until she had gored the orc. He shook his head quickly and moved closer, his dagger's blade lighting up the same way his sword had. When the orc started to get up he growled, cocking his arm back before flinging the dagger with expert aim. It shot forward, leaving a streak of light before burying itself deep into the orc's eye socket. The blade itself was long enough to reach the brain, and within a few moments the threat itself had passed.
He retrieved the dagger, cleaning the gore from it before putting it away. He sheathed his sword as well, the night growing darker without his light source.
"You're hurt." he said simply, looking at the wound from a safe distance. He didn't know if she was going to turn and attack him again, but he wanted to make sure that she knew he wasn't in the mood to fight anymore.
"You're a Therian. I thought your kind died off... and here I mistook you for a werewolf."
Sleepless_Dreamer
(semi)functioning human
The quick dismantling of the orc was something Arella was quite thankful for. She really didn't think this bull form would be good for much ore than the initial surprise charge she had sent into the ugly monster's belly. She also didn't think she had it in her to complete another transformation as difficult as the last two. Big creatures like these were much more taxing on her to change into than something small like a cat or a raven. Thankfully, she wouldn't have to be doing anything else. The enchanted dagger that whizzed by hit its mark, and finished the job of taking out the leather-faced orc.
Arella turned her huge head to the side, sticking out a long tongue to lick at the wound. When Elias's words filtered into her mind, she paused what she was doing and looked at him with big, brown, scarred eyes. I am quite aware of that. She thought to herself. Obviously unable to speak, her thoughts came out in the form of a snort. It was relatively comical, coming from the bull. She licked at the wound a moment longer until he verbalized his realization. He had mistook her for a werewolf. Which meant he hadn't killed her kind, but rather the lycanthropes that were rumored to have descended from some fort of a shape shifter.
Talk of her kind dying off had put the bull in dampened spirits. If she'd had any will to continue her fight-- which she certainly had not-- it would have quickly vanished. Giving a huff, the great beast walked past Elias and toward the cloak that was now laying in a heap on the floor. Another flourish of magic appeared, this one a bit slow and more laborious than the previous two. When it disappeared, Arella stood, human and nude, on the forest floor. Her back was facing Elias, fiery hair cascading down it. Three claw like scars ran diagonally across her right shoulder blade, but other than that her white skin seemed untarnished. The wound on her shoulder, however, was still quite evident, and still bleeding.
With some difficult, Arella managed to put the cloak back on. There was, of course, the matter of her bleeding arm beneath it, but that couldn't be helped until she was reunited with her pack that had been hidden elsewhere in town. Turning slowly, she cut her green eyes across the distance and to Elias.
"Good throw," was all she said.
Arella turned her huge head to the side, sticking out a long tongue to lick at the wound. When Elias's words filtered into her mind, she paused what she was doing and looked at him with big, brown, scarred eyes. I am quite aware of that. She thought to herself. Obviously unable to speak, her thoughts came out in the form of a snort. It was relatively comical, coming from the bull. She licked at the wound a moment longer until he verbalized his realization. He had mistook her for a werewolf. Which meant he hadn't killed her kind, but rather the lycanthropes that were rumored to have descended from some fort of a shape shifter.
Talk of her kind dying off had put the bull in dampened spirits. If she'd had any will to continue her fight-- which she certainly had not-- it would have quickly vanished. Giving a huff, the great beast walked past Elias and toward the cloak that was now laying in a heap on the floor. Another flourish of magic appeared, this one a bit slow and more laborious than the previous two. When it disappeared, Arella stood, human and nude, on the forest floor. Her back was facing Elias, fiery hair cascading down it. Three claw like scars ran diagonally across her right shoulder blade, but other than that her white skin seemed untarnished. The wound on her shoulder, however, was still quite evident, and still bleeding.
With some difficult, Arella managed to put the cloak back on. There was, of course, the matter of her bleeding arm beneath it, but that couldn't be helped until she was reunited with her pack that had been hidden elsewhere in town. Turning slowly, she cut her green eyes across the distance and to Elias.
"Good throw," was all she said.
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Gobbo
Tactical Goat
It was odd... To stand here, talking to a bull. He'd done stranger things during the course of his travels, but this ranked up pretty high on the list. He couldn't help but laugh quietly at the absurdity of the situation. As she moved away and changed back, he couldn't help but steal a glance at the woman. Her curves, her long legs, the way her hair cascaded down her back... It was enough to make him blush. He turned and looked away as she went to get her cloak, waiting until the blood had stopped rushing to his face before turning back to face her when she spoke.
"Thanks." he replied, though there was a small frown on his lips. "Let's get inside. I'll fix up that cut for you." he offered, walking over to where he had dropped his pack. He knew she could probably take care of the wound herself, but he thought he'd offer anyways. If they hadn't been making so much noise in the woods, the orc might not have heard them. He felt responsible, to a degree.
Before waiting for her response he slowly walked out of the treeline, glancing back over his shoulder at her for a moment before heading back inside the shack. He had packed in a hurry, but luckily his medical supplies weren't buried too deep. He pulled out a leather roll and set it on the bed before pulling over a chair to sit in. He sat down, unrolling the leather bundle on the bed as he started taking stock of what he had. Sinew, sewing needles, various herbal remedies and concoctions in smaller leather packets... He had a wide variety of tools and cures at his disposal. With the kind of life that he lead, he needed to have proper medical equipment on hand at all times.
"Thanks." he replied, though there was a small frown on his lips. "Let's get inside. I'll fix up that cut for you." he offered, walking over to where he had dropped his pack. He knew she could probably take care of the wound herself, but he thought he'd offer anyways. If they hadn't been making so much noise in the woods, the orc might not have heard them. He felt responsible, to a degree.
Before waiting for her response he slowly walked out of the treeline, glancing back over his shoulder at her for a moment before heading back inside the shack. He had packed in a hurry, but luckily his medical supplies weren't buried too deep. He pulled out a leather roll and set it on the bed before pulling over a chair to sit in. He sat down, unrolling the leather bundle on the bed as he started taking stock of what he had. Sinew, sewing needles, various herbal remedies and concoctions in smaller leather packets... He had a wide variety of tools and cures at his disposal. With the kind of life that he lead, he needed to have proper medical equipment on hand at all times.
Sleepless_Dreamer
(semi)functioning human
Arella stood still for a few moments and contemplated the offer. She had her own things with which to take care of herself. It would take a trek back into town, but it wasn't impossibly far by any means. Yet... the cut was deep, and the bleeding was proving to be quite troublesome. The time it took her to actually get to her pack could prove to be too much time spent bleeding out on the streets. There was also the fact that the orc's blade was undoubtedly filthy. The longer this wound went untended, the more chance there would be of an infection forming. She practically shuddered at the thought of what could already be festering inside of the cut. It can't be helped... She thought, not for the first time that evening.
With a reluctant sigh, the Therian slowly moved back toward the small abandoned house. She was cautious, mostly because she did not yet trust Elias, but also because too much movement could result in jostling of the already troublesome wound. Slowly but surely, she made her way into the house. Rather than sitting, she stood behind him and inspected his supplies. It was as if she was checking to make sure they were up to standard or something like that. She placed her hands on her hips.
"You should have cherry root," she recommended after she did not see it in his collection. "It is good for numbing wounds. But... this should do."
She unfastened a small leather tie at the neck of the cloak. This loosened the garment enough for her to slide her injured arm out of the top whilst keeping herself mostly decent. While the top of one supple mound had begun to peek out from beneath the neckline, it was barely enough to cause alarm. Arella didn't seem to think too much of nudity, but she was aware of the fact that it meant something quite different in human culture than it did in Therian. She sat down on an unoccupied edge of the bed.
"Do what you can to stop the bleeding. My pack is in town. I can get the rest of the things I need from it."
She didn't want to owe him for much more than some salve and sinew. She was gathering that he wasn't exactly the giving type. At least not without reciprocation. He had finished the orc off, sure, but in her mind he was still a cold and selfish man. Her lips were set in a straight line, face doing a good job at hiding the pain from her injury, and she kept her eyes affixed on a charred spot on the wooden floor.
With a reluctant sigh, the Therian slowly moved back toward the small abandoned house. She was cautious, mostly because she did not yet trust Elias, but also because too much movement could result in jostling of the already troublesome wound. Slowly but surely, she made her way into the house. Rather than sitting, she stood behind him and inspected his supplies. It was as if she was checking to make sure they were up to standard or something like that. She placed her hands on her hips.
"You should have cherry root," she recommended after she did not see it in his collection. "It is good for numbing wounds. But... this should do."
She unfastened a small leather tie at the neck of the cloak. This loosened the garment enough for her to slide her injured arm out of the top whilst keeping herself mostly decent. While the top of one supple mound had begun to peek out from beneath the neckline, it was barely enough to cause alarm. Arella didn't seem to think too much of nudity, but she was aware of the fact that it meant something quite different in human culture than it did in Therian. She sat down on an unoccupied edge of the bed.
"Do what you can to stop the bleeding. My pack is in town. I can get the rest of the things I need from it."
She didn't want to owe him for much more than some salve and sinew. She was gathering that he wasn't exactly the giving type. At least not without reciprocation. He had finished the orc off, sure, but in her mind he was still a cold and selfish man. Her lips were set in a straight line, face doing a good job at hiding the pain from her injury, and she kept her eyes affixed on a charred spot on the wooden floor.
Gobbo
Tactical Goat
Elias had already begun pulling out what he would need, knowing that the orc blade was probably caked with filth. They were never known to keep their weapons clean, and some of the more nasty scars he had were caused by the jagged, dull weapons. He glanced over his shoulder at her when she mentioned cherry root, glancing back at his medical roll for a moment. She was right, it would probably be a good idea to get some. Of course, he didn't tell her that, and instead pulled out a small bottle containing a clear liquid.
He looked over as she sat down, and he pulled the chair a little closer to her. Putting some of the liquid on a clean cloth he set the bottle aside, one hand lightly resting on her arm as he cleaned the wound. "I can fix this completely. You shouldn't be going through town wearing only a cloak anyways." he said, being surprisingly gentle. His hands were calloused but warm, and even as he pulled the wound open a little he was careful not to cause her any undue pain. The clear liquid was enough to slow the bleeding and numb the wound, cleaning it of any filth that may have been put there by the weapon.
He didn't speak much as he worked, instead focusing on making sure the wound was clean before he stitched her up. He took the needle and threaded it, his hands working with a practiced ease as he carefully stitched the wound closed.
"I can get your pack for you. Just tell me where it is." he said, glancing at her for a moment before leaning in to cut the thread with his teeth and tuck it so it wouldn't unravel.
He had fixed his own wounds many times, so patching up someone else wasn't a difficult task. He pulled a roll of clean cotton fabric from his pack and wrapped it around her shoulder a few times, tying it tight enough so it wouldn't move, but not tight enough to cut off circulation.
He looked over as she sat down, and he pulled the chair a little closer to her. Putting some of the liquid on a clean cloth he set the bottle aside, one hand lightly resting on her arm as he cleaned the wound. "I can fix this completely. You shouldn't be going through town wearing only a cloak anyways." he said, being surprisingly gentle. His hands were calloused but warm, and even as he pulled the wound open a little he was careful not to cause her any undue pain. The clear liquid was enough to slow the bleeding and numb the wound, cleaning it of any filth that may have been put there by the weapon.
He didn't speak much as he worked, instead focusing on making sure the wound was clean before he stitched her up. He took the needle and threaded it, his hands working with a practiced ease as he carefully stitched the wound closed.
"I can get your pack for you. Just tell me where it is." he said, glancing at her for a moment before leaning in to cut the thread with his teeth and tuck it so it wouldn't unravel.
He had fixed his own wounds many times, so patching up someone else wasn't a difficult task. He pulled a roll of clean cotton fabric from his pack and wrapped it around her shoulder a few times, tying it tight enough so it wouldn't move, but not tight enough to cut off circulation.
Sleepless_Dreamer
(semi)functioning human
Green eyes remained transfixed upon that spot while he worked. She could feel his closeness, but wished not to look at his face. The eyes were a very special thing, and looking into them meant different things in different circumstances. Proximity like this was much too intimate to maintain eye contact with someone you weren't close with, let alone someone you didn't even know. When he mentioned that she shouldn't be walking through town, though, she could not help the laugh that left her through her nose.
"And what do you suppose I was walking around in before, hm?"
She only glanced at him out of his peripheral vision. She had been in nothing but the cloak the whole time. This was in case she needed to Shift. The cloak was enchanted, which meant it would fall off of her freely and not constrict her movements at all when her body changed. If she were regular clothes, she would ruin them any time she took on the form of something that wasn't smaller than her human form. While she had the King's coin on her side, she didn't exactly have time to go shopping about for new clothes every time she ruined an old pair.
"Your blades," she changed the subject while her eyes moved toward the open door. "Were they enchanted by sages? Priests?"
It was mostly conversation to help pass the time, but she was also curious about the source of the magic. It had felt only slightly familiar to her. She was usually able to tell the source of enchantments on weapons and trinkets, but some times she was too far removed to be able to trace it completely. Perhaps it had been the orc, clouding her natural tether to Earth Mother's knowledge.
When he had finished, she slid her arm back into her cloak and tied the front of it up once more. The collar was now closely held around the neck and shoulders as it had been before. She stood up and stepped a few paces away to create a more comfortable distance between them. Her eyes, with two scars running over top of each one and one running out from beneath, seemed like some type of large bird had tried to pluck them right out of her head with his taloned feet. While the scars were thin enough to not be grotesque, they were reminders of Arella's first, and perhaps most painful, bond.
"Once I retrieve my things, I will repay you for the supplies you've used." She said with a definitive nod.
And then I will be on my way... She thought to herself. After all, there was no use wasting any more time on the futile effort of bringing Prince, no... King... Elias back to Crastor.
"And what do you suppose I was walking around in before, hm?"
She only glanced at him out of his peripheral vision. She had been in nothing but the cloak the whole time. This was in case she needed to Shift. The cloak was enchanted, which meant it would fall off of her freely and not constrict her movements at all when her body changed. If she were regular clothes, she would ruin them any time she took on the form of something that wasn't smaller than her human form. While she had the King's coin on her side, she didn't exactly have time to go shopping about for new clothes every time she ruined an old pair.
"Your blades," she changed the subject while her eyes moved toward the open door. "Were they enchanted by sages? Priests?"
It was mostly conversation to help pass the time, but she was also curious about the source of the magic. It had felt only slightly familiar to her. She was usually able to tell the source of enchantments on weapons and trinkets, but some times she was too far removed to be able to trace it completely. Perhaps it had been the orc, clouding her natural tether to Earth Mother's knowledge.
When he had finished, she slid her arm back into her cloak and tied the front of it up once more. The collar was now closely held around the neck and shoulders as it had been before. She stood up and stepped a few paces away to create a more comfortable distance between them. Her eyes, with two scars running over top of each one and one running out from beneath, seemed like some type of large bird had tried to pluck them right out of her head with his taloned feet. While the scars were thin enough to not be grotesque, they were reminders of Arella's first, and perhaps most painful, bond.
"Once I retrieve my things, I will repay you for the supplies you've used." She said with a definitive nod.
And then I will be on my way... She thought to herself. After all, there was no use wasting any more time on the futile effort of bringing Prince, no... King... Elias back to Crastor.
Gobbo
Tactical Goat
He honestly shouldn't have been surprised... After all, transforming into a tiger or a bull would shred clothing quicker than a blade could. He couldn't help but laugh softly as well, his eyes meeting hers for a brief moment.
"You're braver than I, then." he said, leaning back in his chair once he was done making sure the wrapping would stay secure. He sighed quietly, glancing at his blades for a moment when she mentioned them.
"These? I enchanted them myself." he admitted. "There was a sage in the Shatterstone mercenaries. He taught me how to place enchantments on my weapons."
He watched her as she stood, his eyes meeting hers as she spoke. He had noticed the claw marks on her back, of course... But only now did he really notice the scars on her eyes. "What caused those?" he asked, motioning to his own eyes for clarification. He had calmed considerably, and though he was still wary of this woman and what she wanted with him, he figured he might as well talk with her. After all, it wasn't often that one could meet a Therian.
"You're braver than I, then." he said, leaning back in his chair once he was done making sure the wrapping would stay secure. He sighed quietly, glancing at his blades for a moment when she mentioned them.
"These? I enchanted them myself." he admitted. "There was a sage in the Shatterstone mercenaries. He taught me how to place enchantments on my weapons."
He watched her as she stood, his eyes meeting hers as she spoke. He had noticed the claw marks on her back, of course... But only now did he really notice the scars on her eyes. "What caused those?" he asked, motioning to his own eyes for clarification. He had calmed considerably, and though he was still wary of this woman and what she wanted with him, he figured he might as well talk with her. After all, it wasn't often that one could meet a Therian.
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