• This section is for roleplays only.
    ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.

    Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.

Fantasy The Kingsword Will Stand (OPEN)

OOC
Here
Characters
Here











THE THIEF


Julian Valerius the IIIrd


Male - 25 - Straight



Julian blinked in surprise when the healer bothered to introduce herself and thanked him, of all things- her demeanor so far hadn't exactly suggested she was the type.

He followed her instructions as she precisely stripped then remade the bed with obvious and practiced ease. His lips twitched as he watched her hand the girl clothes she would clearly be swimming in.

At the comment about her 'not standing again tonight if she could help it', Julian's eyes widened. Was the healer even aware of the innuendo?

When she suggested he leave so that Nimue could pull the ill-fitting clothes essentially on top of what she already had on, he raised one perfectly-shaped eyebrow.

You make a comment like that and now you want me to leave? he thought incredulously.

At that moment, priorities shifted again as Nimue sat up and urgently grabbed the elven healer's hand, entreating her to listen; she seemed adamant that terrible things would happen if they did not stay together.

Julian didn't like the sound of that one bit, and he thought about Aevar, still downstairs with the rest of them. He had no doubt that where Vail went, Aevar would follow; so would the sorceress and his bodyguard, and so would the druids. But still...

As the oracle begged them to believe him and mentioned death, Julian shook his head and moved towards the door, nodding to Aenwyn as he left.

"Stay with your patient- I'll get the others."

And with that he swept back downstairs, flashing a grin at the barkeep as he went. The others hadn't yet left the stables (What an indecisive bunch, he thought).

He cleared his throat as he walked in.

"Uh, the oracle requests your presence upstairs," he began. "She seems to think that if the eight of us don't stick together, people will die."

He let the pronouncement hang awkwardly in the air for a moment, watching Aevar carefully, before turning and heading back up towards the room. Presumably, Nimue would have changed into Aenwyn's over-large clothes by now, and they could discuss whatever the Frel was going on without being overheard by patrons or stableboys.


Location: Tavern | With: No one | Mood: Worried




Julian blinked in surprise when the healer bothered to introduce herself and thanked him, of all things- her demeanor so far hadn't exactly suggested she was the type.

He followed her instructions as she precisely stripped then remade the bed with obvious and practiced ease. His lips twitched as he watched her hand the girl clothes she would clearly be swimming in.

At the comment about her 'not standing again tonight if she could help it', Julian's eyes widened. Was the healer even aware of the innuendo?

When she suggested he leave so that Nimue could pull the ill-fitting clothes essentially on top of what she already had on, he raised one perfectly-shaped eyebrow.

You make a comment like that and now you want me to leave? he thought incredulously.

At that moment, priorities shifted again as Nimue sat up and urgently grabbed the elven healer's hand, entreating her to listen; she seemed adamant that terrible things would happen if they did not stay together.

Julian didn't like the sound of that one bit, and he thought about Aevar, still downstairs with the rest of them. He had no doubt that where Vail went, Aevar would follow; so would the sorceress and his bodyguard, and so would the druids. But still...

As the oracle begged them to believe him and mentioned death, Julian shook his head and moved towards the door, nodding to Aenwyn as he left.

"Stay with your patient- I'll get the others."

And with that he swept back downstairs, flashing a grin at the barkeep as he went. The others hadn't yet left the stables (What an indecisive bunch, he thought).

He cleared his throat as he walked in.

"Uh, the oracle requests your presence upstairs," he began. "She seems to think that if the eight of us don't stick together, people will die."

He let the pronouncement hang awkwardly in the air for a moment, watching Aevar carefully, before turning and heading back up towards the room. Presumably, Nimue would have changed into Aenwyn's over-large clothes by now, and they could discuss whatever the Frel was going on without being overheard by patrons or stableboys.
 











THE SELLSWORD


Myara Etyana Valar


Female - 28 - Gay



Myara watched Vail calm down with a notable sense of relief- she didn't relish the idea of having to hold him down if he went berserk again.

She narrowed her eyes as Nimue awoke and approached him unsteadily- he reached out to support her, and Myara reflected that he was running out of hands.

The prophetess entreated him to believe her. To Myara's surprise, her prophecy included all of them. Her natural skepticism bubbled to the surface, though she had to admit that this was by far one of the strangest things she'd experienced in her career.

Vail asked Nimue to give him some evidence, and Myara wondered how on earth he expected the poor girl to do that if all she did was have visions.

At that moment, Aenwyn stepped in, clearly dissatisfied with her patient's treatment. Myara again narrowed her eyes when the rogue peeled himself away from the wooden post to scoop the oracle up into his arms but, as he was doing so following Aenwyn's orders and he appeared to have no problematic intentions, she guessed it was fine.

She blinked in surprise when the rogue said his name. Valerius? Wasn't that one of the noble houses of Morava? What on earth was the son of a noble doing here?

Aenwyn introduced herself to the room at large before following him out, and Myara reflected that the only person not to volunteer an introduction yet (well, technically, Vail had volunteered her introduction for her) was Valerius' companion- the rather indifferent armored man. She wondered if he might be from the court of Morava as well.

Marnie appeared to be undergoing her own internal struggle as she let go of Vail's hand and trailed after the retreating trio. She stopped halfway as she grabbed her coat, apparently unsure whether to follow them out or stay.

Vail pleaded with her not to leave, apparently content to leave the oracle to her rest for now. Myara didn't think she could endure another possibly tearful, half-elvish conversation and, as it was clear Vail was in no immediate danger, she was hoping to grab the remains of her dinner as well- if there was any left.

It was at that moment that the rogue burst back into the room and demanded they come upstairs with him, lest the self-proclaimed prophet have another fit. She seemed to think people would die otherwise.

Myara sighed, quite certain she knew what Vail would choose, and prepared to follow him out.


Location: Stables | With: Everyone - 3 | Mood: Wary



Myara watched Vail calm down with a notable sense of relief- she didn't relish the idea of having to hold him down if he went berserk again.

She narrowed her eyes as Nimue awoke and approached him unsteadily- he reached out to support her, and Myara reflected that he was running out of hands.

The prophetess entreated him to believe her. To Myara's surprise, her prophecy included all of them. Her natural skepticism bubbled to the surface, though she had to admit that this was by far one of the strangest things she'd experienced in her career.

Vail asked Nimue to give him some evidence, and Myara wondered how on earth he expected the poor girl to do that if all she did was have visions.

At that moment, Aenwyn stepped in, clearly dissatisfied with her patient's treatment. Myara again narrowed her eyes when the rogue peeled himself away from the wooden post to scoop the oracle up into his arms but, as he was doing so following Aenwyn's orders and he appeared to have no problematic intentions, she guessed it was fine.

She blinked in surprise when the rogue said his name. Valerius? Wasn't that one of the noble houses of Morava? What on earth was the son of a noble doing here?

Aenwyn introduced herself to the room at large before following him out, and Myara reflected that the only person not to volunteer an introduction yet (well, technically, Vail had volunteered her introduction for her) was Valerius' companion- the rather indifferent armored man. She wondered if he might be from the court of Morava as well.

Marnie appeared to be undergoing her own internal struggle as she let go of Vail's hand and trailed after the retreating trio. She stopped halfway as she grabbed her coat, apparently unsure whether to follow them out or stay.

Vail pleaded with her not to leave, apparently content to leave the oracle to her rest for now. Myara didn't think she could endure another possibly tearful, half-elvish conversation and, as it was clear Vail was in no immediate danger, she was hoping to grab the remains of her dinner as well- if there was any left.

It was at that moment that the rogue burst back into the room and demanded they come upstairs with him, lest the self-proclaimed prophet have another fit. She seemed to think people would die otherwise.

Myara sighed, quite certain she knew what Vail would choose, and prepared to follow him out.
 
Last edited:
THE FALLEN HEIR
Aevar Istedir
Male - 22 - Straight

Aevar watched at the whole event unfolded, the true heroes journey; denial of ones calling was always a thing in it. The whole situation seemed very ironic to him, he had been searching for the true sovereign all this time to have the man drop in his lap. Not literally of course but metaphorically. "I mean, stranger things have happened my elven friend. Heroes are the stuff of legends, I wouldn't be so quick to throw it to the side of the road just yet." Aevar responded as Nimue got up and then tried to press her case even more. In his mind this whole thing could be ironic enough to be true. If this is all true, then having him as a friend would be a very important thing for me to retake the throne. I have his backing there will be very little others could do. He thought to himself as he listened to the healer as she started to speak up.

He watched the elf for a moment as the elf continued to think that the whole thing might be wrong. Aevar figured he would come around sooner or later; luckily for him the group was rather isolated. So he doubted anyone heard what was spoken. Though one could never be too careful when it came to these things. When the elf told Nimue to rest Aevar could see the episode if you could call it that would probably take a toll on the body. Though he was no doctor. As he pondered it for a moment in his mind the Aenwyn told them to follow if they wished or to go back to the tavern or even to stay here. Grabbing his cloak that was now on the ground he grabbed it and followed the group to the tavern.

He followed as the group walked into the tavern as he did so he heard Jullian say that he was going to pay for the room. "Hey! Wait a minute-" Aevar paused as it was already too late. Walking over to the keep he placed the money on the counter and followed up the stairs. By the time he reached the room the door was already shut. He wasn't about to open the door as he didn't know what was going to happen on the other side. Though he fully intended on talking with Jullian about his stunt down stairs later.

For the moment he was eager to see if his long search was finally over. He could practically hear his mother shouting as she was being dragged from her throne and tossed out. He wouldn't kill her if he had the option. But he was going to make her experience what he had. Though at this point only time would tell what would happen.
Location:Outside Private Room| With: Jullian, Aenwyn & Nimue| Mood: Intrigued and unamused
 
THE SORCERESS
Marnie Sapphire
Female - 84 - Bisexual

Marnie placed her cloak around her shoulders and fastened the closure. It was mostly dry now, only small areas of damp remained. She crossed her arms back around her chest, holding onto her elbows underneath the cloak as if it were a safety blanket. The movement of people through the stables made her snap out of her distant daydream worrying. Looking around herself and trying to get her senses to adjust to the lighting, Vail’s voice helped her to acclimatise to the surroundings and remember what was happening.

”Vail…” Marnie’s voice sounded shaky, but this didn’t stop her from walking up to Vail and taking his hands, ”I would never leave you,” she reassured him, ”not by choice.” She felt her heart almost break at the worried look on his face, knowing what it felt like to panic thinking you’d never see someone who is so close to you again. This thought reminded her that she hadn’t been able to tell him her true feelings, but she felt it wouldn’t be long before they were interrupted again.

I want to tell him when we’re alone, when things don’t feel so hectic, when our thoughts aren’t scattered all over the place. But what if I never get to tell him? What if I lose him again? Just as this sad thought passed through Marnie’s mind, her stomach made a long gggrrrroooowwwwllll sound, causing her cheeks to turn bright red. She clutched her stomach and her expression turned from worry to amusement. ”I suppose it is time for some sustenance…”

Marnie held onto Vail’s left hand with her right, feeling her heart bump in one strong motion, causing her face to feel warm and the sensation she had only ever felt around him to replace the grumbling in her stomach. She smirked as she lead him to the door that entered back into the tavern, partly in laughing internally about her loud growling stomach, partly in embarrassment and, mostly, because she finally felt safe being beside Vail.

At that moment, Julian came through the door, letting them all know that they’d probably die if they didn’t go and meet with Nimue. ”Well, maybe we can pick up some food on our way to the room?” she shrugged, unsure of what to truly do next. It felt as if everything was happening in lighting speed, but also so slowly. It was strange and made her feel uneasy about the whole situation.

Location: Leaving the stables | With: Vail and Myara | Mood: A little embarrassed, blushy and discombobulated



Marnie placed her cloak around her shoulders and fastened the closure. It was mostly dry now, only small areas of damp remained. She crossed her arms back around her chest, holding onto her elbows underneath the cloak as if it were a safety blanket. The movement of people through the stables made her snap out of her distant daydream worrying. Looking around herself and trying to get her senses to adjust to the lighting, Vail’s voice helped her to acclimatise to the surroundings and remember what was happening.

”Vail…” Marnie’s voice sounded shaky, but this didn’t stop her from walking up to Vail and taking his hands, ”I would never leave you,” she reassured him, ”not by choice.” She felt her heart almost break at the worried look on his face, knowing what it felt like to panic thinking you’d never see someone who is so close to you again. This thought reminded her that she hadn’t been able to tell him her true feelings, but she felt it wouldn’t be long before they were interrupted again.

I want to tell him when we’re alone, when things don’t feel so hectic, when our thoughts aren’t scattered all over the place. But what if I never get to tell him? What if I lose him again? Just as this sad thought passed through Marnie’s mind, her stomach made a long gggrrrroooowwwwllll sound, causing her cheeks to turn bright red. She clutched her stomach and her expression turned from worry to amusement. ”I suppose it is time for some sustenance…”

Marnie held onto Vail’s left hand with her right, feeling her heart bump in one strong motion, causing her face to feel warm and the sensation she had only ever felt around him to replace the grumbling in her stomach. She smirked as she lead him to the door that entered back into the tavern, partly in laughing internally about her loud growling stomach, partly in embarrassment and, mostly, because she finally felt safe being beside Vail.

At that moment, Julian came through the door, letting them all know that they’d probably die if they didn’t go and meet with Nimue. ”Well, maybe we can pick up some food on our way to the room? she shrugged, unsure of what to truly do next. It felt as if everything was happening in lighting speed, but also so slowly. It was strange and made her feel uneasy about the whole situation.
 
Last edited:
THE HEALER
Aenwyn
Female - 97 - Gay

“Listen chickadee, it’s raining like a sweaty mule out there. No one’s gonna leave this tavern tonight.” Aenwyn kept her voice matter of fact; cutting through Nimue’s tears, though she squeezed her hand in comfort. With her foot, she dragged her pack over to her, then used her free hand to pull out a vial of chamomile she kept handy--it was the best thing for crying girls. Immediately she shoved it under Nimue’s nose, just stopping before hitting her in the face. “Breathe deep.” After she did so, she slipped the vial into her pocket, having a worrisome feeling she’ll need it again tonight. The temptation to knock her out was high.

Instead, she wrapped the wool blanket around Nimue’s shoulders. “Don’t stress over that. Pretty Boy’ll likely bring the others in.” Listing off her fingers, she recounted, “The druids already believe you, Mr. Talkative’ll be too curious to stay away, which means the two other women’ll follow. And lastly, Pretty Boy’s shiny friend’s gonna come in because he’s paying for the room. You’ll have your whole band of questers coming right to you.” Aenwyn didn’t manage to keep the sarcasm out of her voice, but she admittedly didn’t try either. It wasn’t that she doubted what the Earth said…though she doubted something. She’d just accepted that it didn’t make any difference to her if it was true or not. She obviously wasn’t going to get involved. Let the country work itself out--or let this group fix it--she had more things to learn and more people to help. They could deal with the big stuff, she’d deal with the individuals. They could even come to her when one of the idiots inevitably got hurt. She’d manage to be a footnote in history. How exciting.

Shaking her head to refocus on her current patient, she sighed heavily looking the thin girl over. Maybe she could convince her to rest. "But like I said, no one's leaving tonight. Why don't you get some sleep? Unless you have any other world-changing secrets to share--actually, even if you do, wait for dawn. This one's big enough to chew on for a while." She took a moment to return to her pack, pulling out a slightly larger vial than before. Inside was a pearly substance. As she pulled the cork, one could smell lavendar. Even Aenwyn felt herself relaxing. "This here's a sleep aid. It'll knock you out--deeply enough even your fits shouldn't bother you--and you'll wake refreshed in the morning. It'll give everyone a chance to take in what you and the hot druid girl said."

Location: largest room | With: Chickadee | Mood: Everything is better when people patients are asleep


“Listen chickadee, it’s raining like a sweaty mule out there. No one’s gonna leave this tavern tonight.” Aenwyn kept her voice matter of fact; cutting through Nimue’s tears, though she squeezed her hand in comfort. With her foot, she dragged her pack over to her, then used her free hand to pull out a vial of chamomile she kept handy--it was the best thing for crying girls. Immediately she shoved it under Nimue’s nose, just stopping before hitting her in the face. “Breathe deep.” After she did so, she slipped the vial into her pocket, having a worrisome feeling she’ll need it again tonight. The temptation to knock her out was high.

Instead, she wrapped the wool blanket around Nimue’s shoulders. “Don’t stress over that. Pretty Boy’ll likely bring the others in.” Listing off her fingers, she recounted, “The druids already believe you, Mr. Talkative’ll be too curious to stay away, which means the two other women’ll follow. And lastly, Pretty Boy’s shiny friend’s gonna come in because he’s paying for the room. You’ll have your whole band of questers coming right to you.” Aenwyn didn’t manage to keep the sarcasm out of her voice, but she admittedly didn’t try either. It wasn’t that she doubted what the Earth said…though she doubted something. She’d just accepted that it didn’t make any difference to her if it was true or not. She obviously wasn’t going to get involved. Let the country work itself out--or let this group fix it--she had more things to learn and more people to help. They could deal with the big stuff, she’d deal with the individuals. They could even come to her when one of the idiots inevitably got hurt. She’d manage to be a footnote in history. How exciting.

Shaking her head to refocus on her current patient, she sighed heavily looking the thin girl over. Maybe she could convince her to rest. "But like I said, no one's leaving tonight. Why don't you get some sleep? Unless you have any other world-changing secrets to share--actually, even if you do, wait for dawn. This one's big enough to chew on for a while." She took a moment to return to her pack, pulling out a slightly larger vial than before. Inside was a pearly substance. As she pulled the cork, one could smell lavendar. Even Aenwyn felt herself relaxing. "This here's a sleep aid. It'll knock you out--deeply enough even your fits shouldn't bother you--and you'll wake refreshed in the morning. It'll give everyone a chance to take in what you and the hot druid girl said."
 
Last edited:
THE ORACLE
Nimue
Female - 22 - Bisexual


Nimue was comforted by Aenwyn holding her hand but pressed her feet into the floor terrified of what might happen if any of them were to leave the city. The dream of their destinies that she had been having was replaying in her head. She closed her eyes trying to remember if there was something she could remember that she could present to Vail as proof. Nimue bit the inside of her mouth combing her brain for evidence. While recalling her dreams she was reminded of an image of bag. It was uncerain who the bag belonged to. More than one member of the group had with them a bag. She could see from the top of the bag that there was a journal inside. It seemed to be old and it didn't always belong to the owner of the bag itself. Nimue opened her eyes with relief as she took a deep breath of the chamomile that Aenwyn had offered.

Aevar walked in and she flung her gaze towards him. Worry was painted across her face. Nimue was disgusted at herself with how desprate she was being. Aenwyn was right. Surely they wouldn't leave the city any time soon. It was night time, and the rain was coming down in bullets now. She lowered her head and took another deep breath. "Aevar, I apologize for my little spell. I've put you in a position where you have to spend coin. I swear I will make it up to you." Nimue promised her new friend. It wasn't her decision to place the cost of the room on Aevar, but she did feel responsible for it.

Nimue looked at Aenwyn. "Thank you for your help." She responded kindly, her eyes now glued to the floor. Nimue almost felt like giving up. How was she to help them believe? She had already freaked everyone out. Figures. She knew she was usually right about these things, but Nimue couldn't imagine how embarassing of a display it would be if she were to suggest that Vail look in his pack, only to find out that there was no journal inside. Even worse, a journal with nothing in it but personal notes.



talk talk talk
think think think

Location: The Gold Rose Tavern Lodgings| With: Aenwyn, Julian, and Aevar | Mood: Downtrodden

 
THE TRUE SOVEREIGN
Vail Fairfax
Male - 84 - Bisexual

Vail sighed and shook his head. “I am not a hero.” He said to Aevar. “If I was, then I would not have – things would have gone much differently years ago. I’d be home.”

The soothing pressure of Marnie’s hands returned and he sighed softly, listening to her comforting words reassure him she wasn’t going to leave. He could see her feelings for him in her eyes and knew they were echoed in his own. Still, he wasn’t sure. They had both been through a lot, and he knew, as much as he was the same person she knew 3 years ago, at the same time, he really wasn’t. He wanted to take a bit of time for them to get to know each other again. He squeezed her hands gently, careful not to pinch her skin in the metal of his gauntlets and smiled softly.

Just then, her stomach gave a long, drawn out, ravenous growl. He laughed as she pulled her hands away and clutched at her stomach, blushing brightly. “Yes, time for sustenance. Are you still forgetting to eat until I, or your stomach, remind you? Though, I admit, I’m not often much better.”

His grin remained as she took his hand again and led him to the door leading inside, pausing next to her when Julian stepped through, announcing they had to go up to Nimue’s room.

He arched a brow, “I think it’s more important she rest, and the last thing she needs is to have all of us crowding her space. Don’t you?”

Vail glanced towards the druids, the only remaining medical authorities present in the stables.
Location: Trying to get into the tavern to eat | With: Antigone, Agathon, Myara, Marnie. Briefly with Aevar & Julian. | Mood: Anxious, hungry and tired.


The True Sovereign - Vail Fairfax
I am here: The Stables, then the tavern
With: Antigone, Agathon, Myara, Marnie. Briefly with Aevar & Julian.
Mood: Anxious, hungry and tired.

Vail sighed and shook his head. “I am not a hero.” He said to Aevar. “If I was, then I would not have – things would have gone much differently years ago. I’d be home.”

The soothing pressure of Marnie’s hands returned and he sighed softly, listening to her comforting words reassure him she wasn’t going to leave. He could see her feelings for him in her eyes and knew they were echoed in his own. Still, he wasn’t sure. They had both been through a lot, and he knew, as much as he was the same person she knew 3 years ago, at the same time, he really wasn’t. He wanted to take a bit of time for them to get to know each other again. He squeezed her hands gently, careful not to pinch her skin in the metal of his gauntlets and smiled softly.

Just then, her stomach gave a long, drawn out, ravenous growl. He laughed as she pulled her hands away and clutched at her stomach, blushing brightly. “Yes, time for sustenance. Are you still forgetting to eat until I, or your stomach, remind you? Though, I admit, I’m not often much better.”

His grin remained as she took his hand again and led him to the door leading inside, pausing next to her when Julian stepped through, announcing they had to go up to Nimue’s room.

He arched a brow, “I think it’s more important she rest, and the last thing she needs is to have all of us crowding her space. Don’t you?”
 
Last edited:
THE FEMALE DRUID
Antigone
Female - 29 - Straight

Antigone watched Vail go through a myriad of emotions, from grief, shock, anger – which in itself looked as if it could have been a messy situation if Myara hadn’t calmed him down by simply saying his name – and then worry. She didn’t know what the mountain elf or the water elf had been through; she only understood enough elvish to know they both thought the other dead. Whatever it was, it had marked them both with deep trauma.

She stepped forward, ready to offer her assistance when Aenwyn stated Nimue was to head inside to rest, but Julian got there first, and swept the oracle right off her feet. “Julian!” she reprimanded, planting her hands on her hips when the infuriating man carted Nimue into the inn. “Rude.” She muttered under her breath. Aenwyn and Aevar followed them.

Kneeling back down, she started to clean up her herbs and put them carefully back into her bag, wondering if the stable hands would mind if Aggie & she slept in the stalls with Luna and Barrow instead of trying to rent a room in the tavern. She wasn’t too comfortable with the idea of being penned in there with nowhere to run, if she had to.

She stood and quietly watched Marnie and Vial interact. It was obvious to her they were more than just friends. They were heading back into the tavern when Julian came out, announcing they all had to go see Nimue right away or stay put, else they would die. Vail insisted she needed rest, and looked at her, seemingly for confirmation.

“Well. I think it’s more important we all stay here tonight.” She paused, listening. “Yes, I think that’s the case.” She glanced toward Aggie, then back at Vail, “If you three want to go back in and eat, I’ll go up to see Nimue, and tell her we’re all going to stay put, and if there’s anything you need to know, she can tell me.” She looked at Aggie again. “I’ll be fine, Aggie. I promise.” She reached out to squeeze his shoulder, and went into the Tavern after gesturing to the wolf and bear to stay.

“Which room are my companions in?” she asked the man behind the bar, nodding her thanks at his direction.

She went up the stairs and to a door, through which she could hear Aenwyn’s commanding voice, and knocked “It’s Antigone.” She called. “I’m coming in.”

Antigone opened the door and stepped in, her gaze taking in the large room, and thinking, for the first time in years, about her room back in her childhood home. It was twice the size as this, and could have comfortably housed a small family. It appalled her to know the wealthy nobility had so much they didn’t need. She approached Nimue, who sat on the bed with a bundle of clothing gathered in lap, and sat down beside her. “Nimue. How are you feeling, hon? I’ve spoken to the others, and they’re not leaving this tavern tonight. I know you want to speak to everyone, but you need rest. Vail and Marnie are going to have something to eat, but if there’s something important you need him to hear or do, I am happy to pass the message on.”
Location: the stables, then Nimue's room | With: everyone, at some point | Mood: concerned


The Female Druid - Antigone

I am here: In the stable, then Nimue's room
With: Everyone, at some point
Mood: Concerned

Antigone watched Vail go through a myriad of emotions, from grief, shock, anger – which in itself looked as if it could have been a messy situation if Myara hadn’t calmed him down by simply saying his name – and then worry. She didn’t know what the mountain elf or the water elf had been through; she only understood enough elvish to know they both thought the other dead. Whatever it was, it had marked them both with deep trauma.

She stepped forward, ready to offer her assistance when Aenwyn stated Nimue was to head inside to rest, but Julian got there first, and swept the oracle right off her feet. “Julian!” she reprimanded, planting her hands on her hips when the infuriating man carted Nimue into the inn. “Rude.” She muttered under her breath. Aenwyn and Aevar followed them.

Kneeling back down, she started to clean up her herbs and put them carefully back into her bag, wondering if the stable hands would mind if Aggie & she slept in the stalls with Luna and Barrow instead of trying to rent a room in the tavern. She wasn’t too comfortable with the idea of being penned in there with nowhere to run, if she had to.

She stood and quietly watched Marnie and Vial interact. It was obvious to her they were more than just friends. They were heading back into the tavern when Julian came out, announcing they all had to go see Nimue right away or stay put, else they would die. Vail insisted she needed rest, and looked at her, seemingly for confirmation.

“Well. I think it’s more important we all stay here tonight.” She paused, listening. “Yes, I think that’s the case.” She glanced toward Aggie, then back at Vail, “If you three want to go back in and eat, I’ll go up to see Nimue, and tell her we’re all going to stay put, and if there’s anything you need to know, she can tell me.” She looked at Aggie again. “I’ll be fine, Aggie. I promise.” She reached out to squeeze his shoulder, and went into the Tavern after gesturing to the wolf and bear to stay.

“Which room are my companions in?” she asked the man behind the bar, nodding her thanks at his direction.

She went up the stairs and to a door, through which she could hear Aenwyn’s commanding voice, and knocked “It’s Antigone.” She called. “I’m coming in.”

Antigone opened the door and stepped in, her gaze taking in the large room, and thinking, for the first time in years, about her room back in her childhood home. It was twice the size as this, and could have comfortably housed a small family. It appalled her to know the wealthy nobility had so much they didn’t need. She approached Nimue, who sat on the bed with a bundle of clothing gathered in lap, and sat down beside her. “Nimue. How are you feeling, hon? I’ve spoken to the others, and they’re not leaving this tavern tonight. I know you want to speak to everyone, but you need rest. Vail and Marnie are going to have something to eat, but if there’s something important you need him to hear or do, I am happy to pass the message on.”
 











THE THIEF


Julian Valerius the IIIrd


Male - 25 - Straight



Julian watched as first Aevar, then Antigone barrelled past him without so much as a word or glance, making a beeline straight for Nimue's room. He wondered vaguely if the grumpy elven healer would have a problem with it but, after all, the prophet had been adamant he keep them all from leaving, and that seemed to have been accomplished.

Suddenly tired at the idea of facing more information and discussion about this prophecy and whatever it would entail, he heaved an uncharacteristic sigh, turned, and headed back down the stairs.

No doubt there would be time to discuss all this madness in the morning and, in the meantime, he needed a drink.

Plus, if he was being truly honest with himself, he needed a reprieve from being around Antigone, and conferring with her in a bedroom, of all places, regardless of how many other people might be in it, was not good for his heart.

Seeing her again was bringing all these childhood emotions, that he'd been too young to process or identify at the time, rushing back and, as he was unused to such emotions, he had to admit they really threw him off.

Just the sound of her calling his name as he'd left the room with Nimue in his arms, so frustrated and so achingly familiar, had sent his stomach into another sudden somersault that he couldn't control.

He needed some time away from her to sort out his thoughts and get a handle on his feelings, as well as a distraction from all this ominous prophecy stuff.

Plus, he reflected, with big sis not around anymore, this could be a chance for him to catch up with a good childhood friend. Hopefully, as long as he believed that Julian didn't represent a threat to them, Agathon would be less hostile towards him now.

When he got back to the stables, the two elves were apparently gearing up for a cozy catch-up and dinner by the fire, the armored mercenary looking as grim-faced as ever by their side.

Julian walked over to Agathon, who was standing near the animals where his sister had left him looking, as he always did in this situation, a little abandoned.

As he approached his erstwhile friend, he didn't fail to notice the growl coming from the wolf's throat or the mouse's glare, but the bear took a couple steps forward towards him and chuffed at his hand, apparently more curious than antagonistic.

"Hey, what do you say you and I head back to the bar and get a drink?" he said to the druid. "We can catch up, talk about old times, and get drunk and forget about this depressing prophecy business for a while."

He flashed the conspiratorial grin he'd used as a kid to get Agathon into trouble with him. "How about it?"


Location: Stables | With: Agathon | Mood: Friendly




Julian watched as first Aevar, then Antigone barrelled past him without so much as a word or glance, making a beeline straight for Nimue's room. He wondered vaguely if the grumpy elven healer would have a problem with it but, after all, the prophet had been adamant he keep them all from leaving, and that seemed to have been accomplished.

Suddenly tired at the idea of facing more information and discussion about this prophecy and whatever it would entail, he heaved an uncharacteristic sigh, turned, and headed back down the stairs.

No doubt there would be time to discuss all this madness in the morning and, in the meantime, he needed a drink.

Plus, if he was being truly honest with himself, he needed a reprieve from being around Antigone, and conferring with her in a bedroom, of all places, regardless of how many other people might be in it, was not good for his heart.

Seeing her again was bringing all these childhood emotions, that he'd been too young to process or identify at the time, rushing back and, as he was unused to such emotions, he had to admit they really threw him off.

Just the sound of her calling his name as he'd left the room with Nimue in his arms, so frustrated and so achingly familiar, had sent his stomach into another sudden somersault that he couldn't control.

He needed some time away from her to sort out his thoughts and get a handle on his feelings, as well as a distraction from all this ominous prophecy stuff.

Plus, he reflected, with big sis not around anymore, this could be a chance for him to catch up with a good childhood friend. Hopefully, as long as he believed that Julian didn't represent a threat to them, Agathon would be less hostile towards him now.

When he got back to the stables, the two elves were apparently gearing up for a cozy catch-up and dinner by the fire, the armored mercenary looking as grim-faced as ever by their side.

Julian walked over to Agathon, who was standing near the animals where his sister had left him looking, as he always did in this situation, a little abandoned.

As he approached his erstwhile friend, he didn't fail to notice the growl coming from the wolf's throat or the mouse's glare, but the bear took a couple steps forward towards him and chuffed at his hand, apparently more curious than antagonistic.

"Hey, what do you say you and I head back to the bar and get a drink?" he said to the druid. "We can catch up, talk about old times, and get drunk and forget about this depressing prophecy business for a while."

He flashed the conspiratorial grin he'd used as a kid to get Agathon into trouble with him. "How about it?"
 
Last edited:
THE DRUID
location
the gold rose tavern's bar.
WITH
julian Ayama Ayama
WEAPONS
spear. daggers. elemental magic.
INFO
26. male. he/him. bi. brother of antigone.
agathon.

“all eight of you. each of you have a role to play in taking back this great realm.”

the words echoed through agathon’s mind, still, even after their ragtag party migrated back inside the dry shelter of the gold rose. even after his sister and the healer swept the oracle upstairs to rest her stricken head. he stood in the belly of the tavern, staring up the incline of stairs, as if waiting for any one of them to reappear and admit this was all one big joke.

and of course, no one did.

the druid turned the words over in his head. all eight of you. a role to play. him? his sister, he understood–the strong-looking elven man, and his sorceress… friend? lover? agathon wasn’t sure. his head throbbed trying to put together all the pieces of who these people were, whom he supposedly shared such a great fate with. aevar, of course, that made sense, the son of a false ruler. the healer, certainly–every great band of warriors needed one. a prophetess, hell, even julian f*cking valerius, he could believe–any of them, before himself.

agathon’s caramel eyes flicked over to the left corners of his vision, fixing on one of the small candles situated on the bar. as if to test himself, to remind himself before he got his hopes up too high, he rallied his magic. a subtle heat rose from the embers constantly burning in his gut, and he let that internal flame swelter and sear within him, before letting a breath loose through his nose in its direction, no more incriminating than a sigh.

the candle flame swelled and danced–then flickered back down. like someone had pinched it with invisible fingers.

this time, the breath he let out was an authentic sigh. yep. still ordinary.

agathon’s gaze traveled back to the staircase. not that it mattered if the oracle got his involvement wrong. antigone had always been meant for so much more than what this world had handed them originally. and he would follow her to the ends of the earth. maybe that’s the earth knew that, too–and threw him into this prophecy as a courtesy. he cracked a smile; he was fine with that. though he wasn’t sure why his chest still caved in at the thought.

so lost in thought, agathon did not hear julian’s approaching footsteps until that silky, beguiling voice washed over his ears. he turned to the handsome young man, letting the words sink in. and that smile widened at the sight of julian’s own, something so warm and familiar to him, even after all these years.

“you already know the answer to that, friend,” agathon chuckled, a hefty relief lacing his words. he stepped towards him, clapping a hand on the man’s shoulder and leading them both towards the bar. ”i fear there’s many, many years to make up for. and i’m very curious to know how you’ve kept that pretty face busy recently.”

agathon motioned to the bartender, welcoming the two ales placed before them moments later. the bar had quieted down somewhat, the youth of the night still clinging onto the gathering space, though older patrons had parted for home. he hooked his hand around the cup’s handle, eyeing julian’s features over its lip as he took a swig. he finally asked, as he set it down, “i take it you’re not living at home anymore?”
coded by natasha.
 











THE THIEF


Julian Valerius the IIIrd


Male - 25 - Straight



Seeing Agathon's smile mirror his own, Julian felt a mingled sense of surprise and relief.

When the druid chuckled and told him he already knew the answer to that, referring to him as a friend, it was as if all the years and all the troubles between them and their past simply melted away.

As the redhead clapped him on the shoulder and led him towards the bar, expressing curiosity over how he'd been keeping his pretty face busy, Julian gave a bark of laughter.

In childhood, the rogue had always exhorted his friend towards more grooming than he normally did, assuring him that he was a handsome lad and the ladies would love it. Agathon, being an impressionable youth, had tried once, only to have his sister come down like thunder on the both of them when she'd seen the result.

Stop filling his head with your nonsense, Valerius! she'd venomously spat. Declan doesn't need to be a baby-faced, empty-headed fool like you!

And she'd dragged her brother away and refused to let the two see each other for a week. She was so overprotective of her brother that she didn't even want him to be attractive, for fear of what might befall him if he was, which, Julian had to admit, made some amount of sense.

Agathon had always been sweet and lacking in self-confidence, and he seemed to admire anything beautiful, whether they be male or female, which made for a potentially dangerous combination.

After Antigone's outburst, Julian had realized that Agathon could be in real danger of being taken advantage of, and he had respected her wishes and never attempted the same thing again, though even without Julian's attention there was no helping the fact that Agathon had been a beautiful boy and now, nineteen years later, was an incredibly beautiful man. If it hadn't been for their friendship, and the fact that he was Antigone's brother, Julian might even have felt threatened by it.

As they sat down at the bar and the druid waved down a couple drinks, Julian smiled as he watched him observing him closely over the rim of his cup, glad to have his friend back and to share a relaxed moment with him.

And even though he did not happen to share Agathon's preferences and had eyes only for his sister in that regard, he couldn't deny he liked the attention either way. Julian was vain, and proud of his beauty, and Antigone had never been remotely affected by it- she never looked at him the way her brother sometimes did.

"I take it you're not living at home anymore?" the question came, and Julian's expression darkened. The siblings had left before his family's disgrace and had been in hiding ever since- they didn't know.

"No, not at home..." he replied, uncharacteristically short, before taking a sip of his drink. He pulled a face that had nothing to do with the ale, looking straight ahead of him.

"Iselde cast my family out not too long after you both left. The idiots tried everything they could to get back into her good graces- we lost our money, our home, and our respect, and I had to try to make a living as best I could." He took another sip, then turned back to Agathon with a sparkling smile.

"It's not all bad though- turns out I have a knack for thieving, and I quite enjoy it; beats sitting around a palace walking on eggshells all day, and there are lots more adventures to be had outside the castle walls. Still, I miss my gilded mirror and ivory wash basin and wardrobe- it's almost impossible to find decent clothes out here!" he lamented, taking another sip.

"And you? You've been hiding and learning with the druids all this time? I saw those flames back there- looks like you've gotten a serious power boost."


Location: At the bar | With: Agathon | Mood: Quite happy




Seeing Agathon's smile mirror his own, Julian felt a mingled sense of surprise and relief.

When the druid chuckled and told him he already knew the answer to that, referring to him as a friend, it was as if all the years and all the troubles between them and their past simply melted away.

As the redhead clapped him on the shoulder and led him towards the bar, expressing curiosity over how he'd been keeping his pretty face busy, Julian gave a bark of laughter.

In childhood, the rogue had always exhorted his friend towards more grooming than he normally did, assuring him that he was a handsome lad and the ladies would love it. Agathon, being an impressionable youth, had tried once, only to have his sister come down like thunder on the both of them when she'd seen the result.

Stop filling his head with your nonsense, Valerius! she'd venomously spat. Declan doesn't need to be a baby-faced, empty-headed fool like you!

And she'd dragged her brother away and refused to let the two see each other for a week. She was so overprotective of her brother that she didn't even want him to be attractive, for fear of what might befall him if he was, which, Julian had to admit, made some amount of sense.

Agathon had always been sweet and lacking in self-confidence, and he seemed to admire anything beautiful, whether they be male or female, which made for a potentially dangerous combination.

After Antigone's outburst, Julian had realized that Agathon could be in real danger of being taken advantage of, and he had respected her wishes and never attempted the same thing again, though even without Julian's attention there was no helping the fact that Agathon had been a beautiful boy and now, nineteen years later, was an incredibly beautiful man. If it hadn't been for their friendship, and the fact that he was Antigone's brother, Julian might even have felt threatened by it.

As they sat down at the bar and the druid waved down a couple drinks, Julian smiled as he watched him observing him closely over the rim of his cup, glad to have his friend back and to share a relaxed moment with him.

And even though he did not happen to share Agathon's preferences and had eyes only for his sister in that regard, he couldn't deny he liked the attention either way. Julian was vain, and proud of his beauty, and Antigone had never been remotely affected by it- she never looked at him the way her brother sometimes did.

"I take it you're not living at home anymore?" the question came, and Julian's expression darkened. The siblings had left before his family's disgrace and had been in hiding ever since- they didn't know.

"No, not at home..." he replied, uncharacteristically short, before taking a sip of his drink. He pulled a face that had nothing to do with the ale, looking straight ahead of him.

"Iselde cast my family out not too long after you both left. The idiots tried everything they could to get back into her good graces- we lost our money, our home, and our respect, and I had to try to make a living as best I could." He took another sip, then turned back to Agathon with a sparkling smile.

"It's not all bad though- turns out I have a knack for thieving, and I quite enjoy it; beats sitting around a palace walking on eggshells all day, and there are lots more adventures to be had outside the castle walls. Still, I miss my gilded mirror and ivory wash basin and wardrobe- it's almost impossible to find decent clothes out here!" he lamented, taking another sip.

"And you? You've been hiding and learning with the druids all this time? I saw those flames back there- looks like you've gotten a serious power boost."
 
Last edited:
THE ORACLE
Nimue
Female - 22 - Bisexual


Nimue's gaze flashed to the door when she heard a knock, wondering who was behind it. Then she heard the druid's solid, reassuring voice before she stepped into the room, bringing that strength into the space with her.

The druid's gaze took in the length of the room, and a shadow passed across it before she seemed to shake off whatever dark thought was crossing her mind. The frown was smoothed away from her features as she walked over to the bed, glancing down at the clothes in the oracle's arms.

When the redhead sat down next to her, it made Nimue feel small, but also incredibly safe, especially when she enquired after her health in such a gentle tone of voice and reassured her that the others would not be leaving the inn.

Antigone echoed Aenwyn's recommendation that she needed rest and, as she was trembling with cold and exhaustion, it was difficult to argue with that. Compared to the tall druid, the solid elf, and the armored prince, she felt incredibly frail.

She nodded in gratitude.

"Thank you, I will rest. Can you please tell Vail from me that, if he wants proof of what I've told him, he should search the bag..." Another stab of pain lanced through her skull as the vision blurred once again, and she winced and placed a hand to her temple.

"I'm sorry- the pain has been getting worse and I can't-" she paused again, screwing her eyes up against the pain. She took a deep, steadying breath, and looked back at the druid.

"Thank you," she said again. "I will do as you have advised." She pulled on Aenwyn's warm and over-large clothes, and slipped under the coarse covers. She reached for the vial of lavender-scented pearly liquid still held out in the healer's outstretched hand, grabbed it, and took one solid swig before relinquishing it.

Almost immediately, she felt herself becoming enveloped by a sense of comfort, the likes of which she hadn't experienced since she'd been back at Logres Lake. As her eyes slowly closed as if pulled by a heavy and irresistible force, she caught one last glimpse of the druid, the healer, and the prince, all clustered around the bed and watching her.

Her last thought before she drifted off was that, if these people were willing to help, the future of Kalais might yet still be bright...

Location: The Gold Rose Tavern Lodgings | With: Aenwyn, Antigone, and Aevar | Mood: Reassured


Nimue's gaze flashed to the door when she heard a knock, wondering who was behind it. Then she heard the druid's solid, reassuring voice before she stepped into the room, bringing that strength into the space with her.

The druid's gaze took in the length of the room, and a shadow passed across it before she seemed to shake off whatever dark thought was crossing her mind. The frown was smoothed away from her features as she walked over to the bed, glancing down at the clothes in the oracle's arms.

When the redhead sat down next to her, it made Nimue feel small, but also incredibly safe, especially when she enquired after her health in such a gentle tone of voice and reassured her that the others would not be leaving the inn.

Antigone echoed Aenwyn's recommendation that she needed rest and, as she was trembling with cold and exhaustion, it was difficult to argue with that. Compared to the tall druid, the solid elf, and the armored prince, she felt incredibly frail.

She nodded in gratitude.

"Thank you, I will rest. Can you please tell Vail from me that, if he wants proof of what I've told him, he should search the bag..." Another stab of pain lanced through her skull as the vision blurred once again, and she winced and placed a hand to her temple.

"I'm sorry- the pain has been getting worse and I can't-" she paused again, screwing her eyes up against the pain. She took a deep, steadying breath, and looked back at the druid.

"Thank you," she said again. "I will do as you have advised." She pulled on Aenwyn's warm and over-large clothes, and slipped under the coarse covers. She reached for the vial of lavender-scented pearly liquid still held out in the healer's outstretched hand, grabbed it, and took one solid swig before relinquishing it.

Almost immediately, she felt herself becoming enveloped by a sense of comfort, the likes of which she hadn't experienced since she'd been back at Logres Lake. As her eyes slowly closed as if pulled by a heavy and irresistible force, she caught one last glimpse of the druid, the healer, and the prince, all clustered around the bed and watching her.

Her last thought before she drifted off was that, if these people were willing to help, the future of Kalais might yet still be bright...
 
Last edited:
THE HEALER
Aenwyn
Female - 97 - Gay

Aenwyn then noticed her audience in the form of Mr. Tin Can. Whoops. She needed to use names. Customers respond better with names. And he obviously was a paying one. What was his? Screw it, she’ll stick with sir. All men like being called sir. He might even be a knight, so maybe it’s even true.

Said hot druid girl—Antigone! She knew that one…that probably said something about her, didn’t it?—came barreling into the room after barely a knock. God, it was hot to see her in control. With her power, why would she worry about people’s opinions or social graces? Screw screwing her Aenwyn wanted to be her when she grew up. (Though she was sure the screwing would be enjoyable.)

Thankfully, Antigone was more focused on…Nimue, right. The druid echoed her recommendation for rest, thankfully convincing the girl to take her medicine. Aenwyn frowned, returning her focus to her, to soothe the nerves as the pain returned. It truly was a virulent curse. Could she break it? Could any of the others help? She’d never faced a curse such as this, maybe Nimue could tell her more about it when she woke.

For now, she sighed, smoothing the brunette’s hair from her forehead after she was done healing. “I’ll have to make sure she doesn’t get an attack on while sleeping. It’s worrisome how close together they are.” She looked up at Antigone, her mind still percolating ideas to help her patient. “Thank you for your aid.” Then turned to Mr. Tin Can, “And the room sir.”

Location: Largest Room | With: Nimue, Mr. Tin Can and Antigone | Mood: settled



Aenwyn then noticed her audience in the form of Mr. Tin Can. Whoops. She needed to use names. Customers respond better with names. And he obviously was a paying one. What was his? Screw it, she’ll stick with sir. All men like being called sir. He might even be a knight, so maybe it’s even true.

Said hot druid girl—Antigone! She knew that one…that probably said something about her, didn’t it?—came barreling into the room after barely a knock. God, it was hot to see her in control. With her power, why would she worry about people’s opinions or social graces? Screw screwing her Aenwyn wanted to be her when she grew up. (Though she was sure the screwing would be enjoyable.)

Thankfully, Antigone was more focused on…Nimue, right. The druid echoed her recommendation for rest, thankfully convincing the girl to take her medicine. Aenwyn frowned, returning her focus to her, to soothe the nerves as the pain returned. It truly was a virulent curse. Could she break it? Could any of the others help? She’d never faced a curse such as this, maybe Nimue could tell her more about it when she woke.

For now, she sighed, smoothing the brunette’s hair from her forehead after she was done healing. “I’ll have to make sure she doesn’t get an attack on while sleeping. It’s worrisome how close together they are.” She looked up at Antigone, her mind still percolating ideas to help her patient. “Thank you for your aid.” Then turned to Mr. Tin Can, “And the room sir.”
 
THE SORCERESS
Marnie Sapphire
Female - 84 - Bisexual

Nodding, Marnie grinned as she spoke, ”Yes, my only clue as to whether I’m hungry or not are my stomach’s protests. And now, again, you. Just as it used to be back home.” Simultaneously, Marnie felt both joy and a deep sadness. It had been a few months since last trying anything to find her mother again. She felt guilty, but had seemingly been stuck, frozen in time, just hoping and willing that things would sort them self out somehow. Lead after lead and disappointment after disappointment left Marnie feeling like all hope was gone. And it felt like a dagger straight to the chest, twisted, carving at her heart and lungs.

The other half of her felt relieved and overjoyed. She had only ever seen Vail in her dreams, and nightmares, since the tragedy. It didn’t help that the day had felt so surreal; it made her question if he was real and if she was awake. She hoped that with some rest and food this feeling would settle and that with more time, the feeling of sleep walking would subside. What she knew without a doubt was that she felt safe in his presence, even with all of the mystery and what seemed to be a magical connection between all of the people who had appeared at the stables.

Marnie sighed quietly, her stomach growling in another protest for food as Julian and Antigone stood in the stable’s doorway. She was more than thankful when Vail spoke up. ”Yes, she needs rest after going through that ordeal. And the rest of us can’t think without some energy in our bones.” She gave a kind, but inpatient, smile toward Julian and Antigone and then followed after them into the tavern and took an empty seat at a table booth next to the fireplace. Marnie lead Vail with her, letting go of his hand when she sat down before holding her hand in the air. A barmaid passing the table stopped, turning to Marnie to take her order.

”What can I get yer?” the woman looked Marnie up and down with curiosity and a tinge of wariness, making sure to keep some distance between her and Marnie. Most people here had never seen a water elf in their life, only heard of stories passed down from generation to generation from when water elves were the kings and queens of the sea, some making a living from catching and selling fish, seafood and pearls, others stealing their way through life as pirates.

The biggest ‘legend’ that had plagued all water elves since then was that if you were to be touched by one on your bare skin, your blood would slowly turn to salty water and you’d be condemned to die a horrible and lonely death, drowning internally as your lungs filled with seawater. This made getting help very difficult and social situations very uncomfortable. The other stories, less ‘legendary’, were that water elves could not be trusted. They are prone to stealing, especially any jewels or coin. It was a deep prejudice that Marnie felt almost everywhere she went, especially in bigger cities.

”Soup and some bread would do perfectly,” Marnie swallowed, her eyes darting around the room as she tried to look anywhere but the barmaid’s face. She just couldn’t deal with the questions or feeling like a captured animal right at this moment. ”Vail, Myara, what would you like?”

Location: Leaving the stables | With: Vail and Myara | Mood: Hangry!!



Nodding, Marnie grinned as she spoke, ”Yes, my only clue as to whether I’m hungry or not are my stomach’s protests. And now, again, you. Just as it used to be back home.” Simultaneously, Marnie felt both joy and a deep sadness. It had been a few months since last trying anything to find her mother again. She felt guilty, but had seemingly been stuck, frozen in time, just hoping and willing that things would sort them self out somehow. Lead after lead and disappointment after disappointment left Marnie feeling like all hope was gone. And it felt like a dagger straight to the chest, twisted, carving at her heart and lungs.

The other half of her felt relieved and overjoyed. She had only ever seen Vail in her dreams, and nightmares, since the tragedy. It didn’t help that the day had felt so surreal; it made her question if he was real and if she was awake. She hoped that with some rest and food this feeling would settle and that with more time, the feeling of sleep walking would subside. What she knew without a doubt was that she felt safe in his presence, even with all of the mystery and what seemed to be a magical connection between all of the people who had appeared at the stables.

Marnie sighed quietly, her stomach growling in another protest for food as Julian and Antigone stood in the stable’s doorway. She was more than thankful when Vail spoke up. ”Yes, she needs rest after going through that ordeal. And the rest of us can’t think without some energy in our bones.” She gave a kind, but inpatient, smile toward Julian and Antigone and then followed after them into the tavern and took an empty seat at a table booth next to the fireplace. Marnie lead Vail with her, letting go of his hand when she sat down before holding her hand in the air. A barmaid passing the table stopped, turning to Marnie to take her order.

”What can I get yer?” the woman looked Marnie up and down with curiosity and a tinge of wariness, making sure to keep some distance between her and Marnie. Most people here had never seen a water elf in their life, only heard of stories passed down from generation to generation from when water elves were the kings and queens of the sea, some making a living from catching and selling fish, seafood and pearls, others stealing their way through life as pirates.

The biggest ‘legend’ that had plagued all water elves since then was that if you were to be touched by one on your bare skin, your blood would slowly turn to salty water and you’d be condemned to die a horrible and lonely death, drowning internally as your lungs filled with seawater. This made getting help very difficult and social situations very uncomfortable. The other stories, less ‘legendary’, were that water elves could not be trusted. They are prone to stealing, especially any jewels or coin. It was a deep prejudice that Marnie felt almost everywhere she went, especially in bigger cities.

”Soup and some bread would do perfectly,” Marnie swallowed, her eyes darting around the room as she tried to look anywhere but the barmaid’s face. She just couldn’t deal with the questions or feeling like a captured animal right at this moment. ”Vail, Myara, what would you like?”
 
THE TRUE SOVEREIGN
Vail Fairfax
Male - 84 - Bisexual

Vail allowed himself to be led back into the tavern, glancing toward where he had been sitting before running off to the stables, to see the supper he'd only had a few bites of was, indeed, cleared away. He sat down and removed his gauntlets, carefully setting them down on the table and flexing his hands. He'd love nothing better than strip all of his armour off, but the tavern common room was no place for it. He would feed himself first, catch up with Marnie a bit, then rent a room, where he would strip off and clean his armour before resting. He didn't know if he would sleep, but he definitely needed to rest.

He watched the barmaid walk over, an expression of recognition on her face as she looked his way, which quickly turned to wary suspicion when casting her gaze on Marnie. He knew the silly stories humans had of the different elven races, and they really were ridiculous. it bothered him to see Marnie look everywhere but directly at the woman taking her her order, as if she wanted to disappear. Marnie had every right to be proud of her water elven heritage. She was a beautiful woman, and a powerful sorceress. Screw what some barmaid whose opinion didn't matter thought of her. Pointedly, he reached out to lace his fingers with Marnie's and let them rest on the table as Marnie gave her order, silently letting her know she had his support with a gentle squeeze of his hand.

He turned his attention to the barmaid when it was his turn to order and smiled at her, "I will have some of your delicious lamb and potatoes, along with an ale. Make it two. If my friend doesn't want it, then I will drink it." He turned his smile on Marnie. "Though i do highly recommend it. It's quite good. Myara? Will you have something to eat, since our supper was interrupted earlier, or do you want a drink?"
Location: tavern | With: Marnie and Myara | Mood: Hungry, tired and a little protective


The True Sovereign - Vail Fairfax
Location: Tavern
With: Marnie & Myara
Feeling: Tired, hungry and little protective

Vail allowed himself to be led back into the tavern, glancing toward where he had been sitting before running off to the stables, to see the supper he'd only had a few bites of was, indeed, cleared away. He sat down and removed his gauntlets, carefully setting them down on the table and flexing his hands. He'd love nothing better than strip all of his armour off, but the tavern common room was no place for it. He would feed himself first, catch up with Marnie a bit, then rent a room, where he would strip off and clean his armour before resting. He didn't know if he would sleep, but he definitely needed to rest.

He watched the barmaid walk over, an expression of recognition on her face as she looked his way, which quickly turned to wary suspicion when casting her gaze on Marnie. He knew the silly stories humans had of the different elven races, and they really were ridiculous. it bothered him to see Marnie look everywhere but directly at the woman taking her her order, as if she wanted to disappear. Marnie had every right to be proud of her water elven heritage. She was a beautiful woman, and a powerful sorceress. Screw what some barmaid whose opinion didn't matter thought of her. Pointedly, he reached out to lace his fingers with Marnie's and let them rest on the table as Marnie gave her order, silently letting her know she had his support with a gentle squeeze of his hand.

He turned his attention to the barmaid when it was his turn to order and smiled at her, "I will have some of your delicious lamb and potatoes, along with an ale. Make it two. If my friend doesn't want it, then I will drink it." He turned his smile on Marnie. "Though i do highly recommend it. It's quite good. Myara? Will you have something to eat, since our supper was interrupted earlier, or do you want a drink?"
 











THE SELLSWORD


Myara Etyana Valar


Female - 28 - Gay



To Myara's surprise, Vail declined to heed the rogue's warning and head straight up to Nimue's room.

His emotions are just all over the place today, Myara thought, I hate it when he's unpredictable like this. This was the kind of thing that put her on edge.

As a soldier, if there was one thing Myara relied on more than anything, it was routine, structure- order. The elves' emotional nature was something she had trouble dealing with (although of course there were plenty of irrational humans out there as well).

Vail and Marnie seemed to agree that what the prophetess needed right now was rest which, at least, would make Aenwyn happy. Now there was an elf with a solid head on her shoulders- Myara wondered vaguely if they might grab a drink together when all this nonsense had settled down.

As Antigone and the Prince filed out, and then Julian left with Agathon, Myara had to admit that the coincidence of so many people who apparently knew each other meeting here by chance suggested at least a hint of truth to the whole prophecy business.

She followed Vail and Marnie mechanically out the door as the waterelf took a seat at a table nearer to the fire. Both she and Vail glanced reflexively back at their previous table, unsurprised to find it empty.

Vail's emotions flickered between tenderness, annoyance, and his usual jovial air as he pointedly intertwined his fingers with Marnie's. Misinterpreting the exchange as him showing off, Myara rolled her eyes.

"Lamb. Ale," she grunted at the barmaid, wondering how fast she could wolf it down and head to bed- maybe check in on Aenwyn, Antigone, and the other ninnies. She saw Julian and Agathon talking at the bar out of the corner of her eye, cosy as can be, and snickered to herself.

Didn't take them long to drop the 'we don't know each other' act, I see, she thought, unusually wistful. She was a fiercely independant person, and had always done best in life when on her own (or part of a military unit) but, once in a while, she reflected sadly on the fact that her only 'friend' was a half-mad mountain elf with a deep-seated, dangerous trauma and a loose tongue.


Location: Tavern | With: Vail, Marnie | Mood: Grumpy



To Myara's surprise, Vail declined to heed the rogue's warning and head straight up to Nimue's room.

His emotions are just all over the place today, Myara thought, I hate it when he's unpredictable like this. This was the kind of thing that put her on edge.

As a soldier, if there was one thing Myara relied on more than anything, it was routine, structure- order. The elves' emotional nature was something she had trouble dealing with (although of course there were plenty of irrational humans out there as well).

Vail and Marnie seemed to agree that what the prophetess needed right now was rest which, at least, would make Aenwyn happy. Now there was an elf with a solid head on her shoulders- Myara wondered vaguely if they might grab a drink together when all this nonsense had settled down.

As Antigone and the Prince filed out, and then Julian left with Agathon, Myara had to admit that the coincidence of so many people who apparently knew each other meeting here by chance suggested at least a hint of truth to the whole prophecy business.

She followed Vail and Marnie mechanically out the door as the waterelf took a seat at a table nearer to the fire. Both she and Vail glanced reflexively back at their previous table, unsurprised to find it empty.

Vail's emotions flickered between tenderness, annoyance, and his usual jovial air as he pointedly intertwined his fingers with Marnie's. Misinterpreting the exchange as him showing off, Myara rolled her eyes.

"Lamb. Ale," she grunted at the barmaid, wondering how fast she could wolf it down and head to bed- maybe check in on Aenwyn, Antigone, and the other ninnies. She saw Julian and Agathon talking at the bar out of the corner of her eye, cosy as can be, and snickered to herself.

Didn't take them long to drop the 'we don't know each other' act, I see, she thought, unusually wistful. She was a fiercely independant person, and had always done best in life when on her own (or part of a military unit) but, once in a while, she reflected sadly on the fact that her only 'friend' was a half-mad mountain elf with a deep-seated, dangerous trauma and a loose tongue.
 
THE FEMALE DRUID
Antigone
Female - 29 - Straight

Antigone sat quietly, listening to Nimue's request, only to see her interrupted by a stab of pain. She reached forward with a sound of sypmpathy and tsked at her apology. "No, that's OK. It's more important you take care of yourself." She gently patted Nimue's arm and stood so Nimue could dress and take the vial from Aenwyn's still outstretched hand. She felt the earth's approval ring within her again and she found herself nodding softly in response.

As soon as Nimue's eyes closed, Aenwyn moved to her side, once again using her magic to heal the oracle. Her expression was thoughful as she worked, as if trying to figure out the solution to a difficult puzzle. Antigone watched her with a mixture of awe and admiration. She'd seen her share of healers, but had never had the pleasure to work with one as capable as Aenwyn. She had a brusque manner, but she genuinely cared about her patients' well-being, evidenced by the way she gently pushed Nimue's hair back when she was done.

She listened to Aenwyn's comment and nodded. "Now that you mention it, there does seem to be something odd about the way these visions come upon her. Poor woman. There's no need to thank me. I'm only too happy to help, so please, let me know if and what I can do. In the meantime, I'm going back downstairs to tell Vail what Nimue said and hope he gets something from it." She smiled at Aenywn. "I'm very happy to have met you, Aenwyn. Thank you for accepting my aid."

She turned to Prince Aevar and nodded her head. "Aevar. Have a good night."

Sighing softly, she went back downstairs, rolling her eyes when she spotted Julian at the bar with Agathon. if he gets my brother into trouble I will string him behind Vail's horse and let her have free reign to run. Shaking her head, she turned away and made her way to where Vail sat with Marnie and Myara. She didn't fail to notice a few men in the tavern looking Vail's way with open envy and rolled her eyes as she sat down, "Don't look now, but a few men in here think you're quite the ladies' man, Vail."

Vail blinked, "Me?"

"You." Antigone laughed. "You are the only man at a table with three attractive women. If I was a guy, I'd probably think it too. I won't bother you for long, but I have to pass on something Nimue asked me tell you. She said, and I quote, 'Can you please tell Vail from me that, if he wants proof of what I've told him, he should search the bag.' That's as far as she got before she had to stop. Does that mean anything to you?"

Vail looked confused. "The bag? What bag? Mine? All I have in there is my clothing and my father's journal."

Antigone raise her eyebrows. "Have you read it? No??? Well. Perhaps you should. Maybe something in there will tell you what we all need to know." She smiled and stood up. "Good night. I'm going to go back to the stable and enjoy the company of my animals."

She glanced at Julian and Agathon, her lips forming a thin line of disapproval, and then looked at Myara with a look of long suffering, as if to say, "I can't deal with men righ now."

She stood and walked toward the stables, pausing at the bar where Julian and Agathon sat. "I'm going to get some sleep. Julian, if I have to get up in the middle of the night to rescue my brother from some hair-brained scheme of yours, I will tie you up and shave every last hair from your head. Stay in the tavern, and don't, for the love of the gods, do anything stupid. Please. Aggie, please try to not drink until you lose all common sense." She gave her brother's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Good night."

She walked into the stables and passed the two stable hands, giving them a brief nod, "Boys." She said, "I'll be sleeping in Luna's stall, if that's OK."

Without waiting for an answer, she went into Luna's stall and sat down in the straw next her, gazing deep into her eyes. "Luna, I'm so tired. " She whispered. "When will I get to stop running and hiding?"

Luna lifted a paw and draped it over Antigone's shoulder, pulling her close until she was snuggled against Luna's side. Sleep. Rest. Antigone heard, and nodded. "I'll try."

Location: first the tavern, then the stable | With: everyone for a bit, but ends up on her own with Luna | Mood: tired and a bit sad
[/COLOR][/B]


The Female Druid - Antigone
Loctaion: first the tavern, then the stables
With: Everyone, for a bit, but ends up on her own with Luna
Mood: Tired and a bit sad

Antigone sat quietly, listening to Nimue's request, only to see her interrupted by a stab of pain. She reached forward with a sound of sypmpathy and tsked at her apology. "No, that's OK. It's more important you take care of yourself." She gently patted Nimue's arm and stood so Nimue could dress and take the vial from Aenwyn's still outstretched hand. She felt the earth's approval ring within her again and she found herself nodding softly in response.

As soon as Nimue's eyes closed, Aenwyn moved to her side, once again using her magic to heal the oracle. Her expression was thoughful as she worked, as if trying to figure out the solution to a difficult puzzle. Antigone watched her with a mixture of awe and admiration. She'd seen her share of healers, but had never had the pleasure to work with one as capable as Aenwyn. She had a brusque manner, but she genuinely cared about her patients' well-being, evidenced by the way she gently pushed Nimue's hair back when she was done.

She listened to Aenwyn's comment and nodded. "Now that you mention it, there does seem to be something odd about the way these visions come upon her. Poor woman. There's no need to thank me. I'm only too happy to help, so please, let me know if and what I can do. In the meantime, I'm going back downstairs to tell Vail what Nimue said and hope he gets something from it." She smiled at Aenywn. "I'm very happy to have met you, Aenwyn. Thank you for accepting my aid."

She turned to Prince Aevar and nodded her head. "Aevar. Have a good night."

Sighing softly, she went back downstairs, rolling her eyes when she spotted Julian at the bar with Agathon. if he gets my brother into trouble I will string him behind Vail's horse and let her have free reign to run. Shaking her head, she turned away and made her way to where Vail sat with Marnie and Myara. She didn't fail to notice a few men in the tavern looking Vail's way with open envy and rolled her eyes as she sat down, "Don't look now, but a few men in here think you're quite the ladies' man, Vail."

Vail blinked, "Me?"

"You." Antigone laughed. "You are the only man at a table with three attractive women. If I was a guy, I'd probably think it too. I won't bother you for long, but I have to pass on something Nimue asked me tell you. She said, and I quote, 'Can you please tell Vail from me that, if he wants proof of what I've told him, he should search the bag.' That's as far as she got before she had to stop. Does that mean anything to you?"

Vail looked confused. "The bag? What bag? Mine? All I have in there is my clothing and my father's journal."

Antigone raise her eyebrows. "Have you read it? No??? Well. Perhaps you should. Maybe something in there will tell you what we all need to know." She smiled and stood up. "Good night. I'm going to go back to the stable and enjoy the company of my animals."

She glanced at Julian and Agathon, her lips forming a thin line of disapproval, and then looked at Myara with a look of long suffering, as if to say, "I can't deal with men righ now."

She stood and walked toward the stables, pausing at the bar where Julian and Agathon sat. "I'm going to get some sleep. Julian, if I have to get up in the middle of the night to rescue my brother from some hair-brained scheme of yours, I will tie you up and shave every last hair from your head. Stay in the tavern, and don't, for the love of the gods, do anything stupid. Please. Aggie, please try to not drink until you lose all common sense." She gave her brother's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Good night."

She walked into the stables and passed the two stable hands, giving them a brief nod, "Boys." She said, "I'll be sleeping in Luna's stall, if that's OK."

Without waiting for an answer, she went into Luna's stall and sat down in the straw next her, gazing deep into her eyes. "Luna, I'm so tired. " She whispered. "When will I get to stop running and hiding?"

Luna lifted a paw and draped it over Antigone's shoulder, pulling her close until she was snuggled against Luna's side. Sleep. Rest. Antigone heard, and nodded. "I'll try."
 
Last edited:
THE ORACLE
Nimue
Female - 22 - Bisexual


DREAM:

Nimue felt herself wrapped in the blanket of sleep as her brain turned off. Sleep was the only time she had peace. When she wasn't having nightmares that is. She could hear voice. The voice didn't belong to any of The Eight, but it sounded familiar. The voice wasn't Maghra's either. Nimue walked calmly through the dark of her mind. A familiar landscape began to materialize right in front of her. Nimue was now trailing the edges of a lake front. Lake Loghras, her home. She turned to her left, and to her surprise there was a man. She had never met him before. But she felt as if she knew him from a past life.

Nimue turned to see him. The man had a face as pale as death. His long ivory hair rested at his shoulder blades and pieces fanned out from behind his head and beside his ears. His eyes were as red as rubies and not a wrinkle stained his face. As Nimue studied the man, she noticed his painted black lips. That was a common look from hundreds of years ago. Nimue felt as if she had known this man forever but couldn't quite put her finger on what his name was.

"Who are you?" Nimue asked the man, as she strolled next to him beside the lake. Cicadas screamed all around them, but his voice silenced them. "Ruadh. Your creator for lack of a better explanation." He replied calmly, keeping his eyes on the horizon even though Nimue was giving him her full attention. Nimue remained silent for a moment as thoughts raced within her mind. "A God?" Nimue asked the man, her eyes remaining fixed upon his face.

Ruadh stopped walking, eyes still glued to the horizon. Nimue followed suit. "Precisely." He lied. Looking at her, Ruadh reached out his hands. His palms were stained red. Nimue didn't react negatively out of fear that she would upset this man. Ruadh grabbed Nimue's hands holding them in his. He squeezed them and his eyes met hers. "I am very proud of you. I hope that well meet soon. Just don't stray from the path, my love."

Nimue was slightly offput by this. Sure, this man was familiar, but she didn't know him. Ruadh however seemed to know her VERY well. Nimue looked down to battle her anxiety, but when she looked up Ruadh was gone. Nimue peered behind her left shoulder and then the other to look for him. He was nowhere to be found.

ooc: Ruadh is The Red Hand

talk talk talk
think think think

Location: Dreaming | With: Herself | Mood: This Is Quite Odd

 
Last edited:
THE TRUE SOVEREIGN
Vail Fairfax
Male - 84 - Bisexual

Vail knelt in the grassy yard behind The Gold Rose Tavern with his eyes closed, the early rising sun casting a rosy glow over him. He was dressed in a simple blue wool tunic, grey linen breeches and black, brushed leather boots. His ebony hair hung loose, draping across his shoulders in long, silken strands to brush against his waist. In front of him, his sword, Kingmaker, he now knew it was named, lay in the grass, as if waiting, and beside him, safely resting upon his folded cloak, was his father’s journal, a piece of ribbon marking the page where he had stopped reading.

The sounds of the waking city rose around him, but he ignored them, focusing only on his breath drawing steadily in, and then out. As predicted, he hadn’t slept at all last night, but he had gotten much needed rest. Elves didn’t have to sleep as often as humans, and often found simply lying in rest at night was enough, though he imagined sleep would become necessary soon. Before the sun rose, he got out of bed, dressed, grabbed his sword and his father’s journal, and went downstairs to get some breakfast and work up the courage to read. He’d had this journal in his bag for nearly 3 years, and had never once managed to read it. Every time he tried, he felt panic settle in his chest and promptly put it away. This morning, because he knew it was important, he had stepped outside after eating, sat in the grass, and forced himself to ignore the looming panic to read the first few pages. The neat rows of his father’s meticulously tidy handwriting flowed across the page, calling his voice to Vail’s mind as he read. Then, when his hands were shaking too much for him to hold the book steady, he closed it, and closed his eyes to focus on steadying his breathing.

He opened his eyes and stood smoothly, drawing his sword, which seemed to sigh with eagerness as his hand wrapped around the hilt. It was a hand and a half sword, which meant it could be used as both a one handed or a two handed weapon, and he kept it lethally sharp. He took a final, centering breath, and swung Kingmaker, moving his body through the intricate set of drills with an easy grace born of years of practice. At one time, his father would have done them with him, acting as his opponent. They were designed so one could perform them alone or with a partner, but he would rather his father could be here, or someone else well versed in them.

He mulled over the words he’d just read as he moved, alternating between using his sword as a single handed weapon and a two handed weapon.

This is the writing of Prince Ardreth Altaine, heir to the throne of the once-great and mighty kingdom of Kalais. My wife, Luirlan, and I have had many names over the long centuries: Warden & Moira Whyndam of Crookshire, Alchilba. Rector & Alys Bright of Eddan, Torrent. Aethan & Killa Bedinn of Tantrisan, Morava. Now we are Aubric and Aisling Fairfax of Sedone, Alchilba. To my hopefully surviving son, Vail, I am sorry for everything. If you are reading this, it’s because I am not there to tell you.

YOU are the rightful heir to the throne of Kalais. The True Sovereign.

There is so much to say, and the beginning isn't the best place to start. This is quite the shock to you, I know, and I hope you can at least try to understand we had very good reasons to keep this from you. You know you had a sister, Ydrah, who died. We told you she had accompanied me on a job and was killed. That’s only slightly the truth. She grew up knowing everything, and it cost us her life. Ydrah was only 100 years old when she was killed in a failed attempt to take the capital city of Morava. We had been fighting to reunite my father’s kingdom for 400 years. Your mother and I had lost so much over those four centuries, but losing Ydrah was the final straw for both of us. She died in my arms, Vail. May you never know that agony. Your mother very nearly didn’t forgive me, and I wouldn’t have blamed her if she hadn’t.

At the time I am writing this, you are 79 years old. Older than I was, by three years, when your grandfather was murdered. Ydrah would be 295 if she survived. I can’t ever forgive myself for it. For my arrogance in thinking I could throw my young child at this war without risk. I couldn't do that you.

I didn't ever intend to keep this from you forever. It was important to give you as close to a normal childhood as I could. A good ruler understands the needs of his people, and this is something you most definitely do, since you grew up as one of those people. You understand how it feels when the crops don’t do well, and the nobility take their full share without considering how it leaves us with nothing, or very little. A man can appear to be many things, but the truth of his character shows in how he treats the weakest, and least fortunate of us. You’ve heard me say this many times. I don’t have to put Kingmaker in your hands to know who you are. King Vail Altain. The True Sovereign.

Vail spun to a stop, Kingmaker slicing downward in a two handed grip to slam into the ground. He left the sword there, the point dug deeply into the earth, and paced the yard, breathing heavily. His gaze fell upon the journal, and he resisted the urge to pick it up and chuck it into the nearby well.

His father started writing this 5 years ago. Two years before Sedone burned to the ground. Why? What prompted him to start writing this down, instead of just telling Vail? How was he supposed to take on 3 kingdoms with a company of 9 people? That is if they even agreed to stay and help. He carded his fingers through his hair and looked up at the sky, as if the clouds there could answer all of his questions.

Vail Altain. Not Fairfax. Altain. It was a name out of the history books, all of which stated the Altain family had been killed down to the last man, woman and child. Yet…here he was.

What was he supposed to do next?
Location: The yard behind The Gold Rose Tavern | With: himself | Mood: confused and shaken


Vail knelt in the grassy yard behind The Gold Rose Tavern with his eyes closed, the early rising sun casting a rosy glow over him. He was dressed in a simple blue wool tunic, grey linen breeches and black, brushed leather boots. His ebony hair hung loose, draping across his shoulders in long, silken strands to brush against his waist. In front of him, his sword, Kingmaker, he now knew it was named, lay in the grass, as if waiting, and beside him, safely resting upon his folded cloak, was his father’s journal, a piece of ribbon marking the page where he had stopped reading.

The sounds of the waking city rose around him, but he ignored them, focusing only on his breath drawing steadily in, and then out. As predicted, he hadn’t slept at all last night, but he had gotten much needed rest. Elves didn’t have to sleep as often as humans, and often found simply lying in rest at night was enough, though he imagined sleep would become necessary soon. Before the sun rose, he got out of bed, dressed, grabbed his sword and his father’s journal, and went downstairs to get some breakfast and work up the courage to read. He’d had this journal in his bag for nearly 3 years, and had never once managed to read it. Every time he tried, he felt panic settle in his chest and promptly put it away. This morning, because he knew it was important, he had stepped outside after eating, sat in the grass, and forced himself to ignore the looming panic to read the first few pages. The neat rows of his father’s meticulously tidy handwriting flowed across the page, calling his voice to Vail’s mind as he read. Then, when his hands where shaking too much for him to hold the book steady, he closed it, and closed his eyes to focus on steadying his breathing.

He opened his eyes and stood smoothly, drawing his sword, which seemed to sigh with eagerness as his hand wrapped around the hilt. It was a hand and a half sword, which meant it could be used as both a one handed or a two handed weapon, and he kept it lethally sharp. He took a final, centering breath, and swung Kingmaker, moving his body through the intricate set of drills with an easy grace born of years of practice. At one time, his father would have done them with him, acting as his opponent. They were designed so one could perform them alone or with a partner, but he would rather his father could be here, or someone else well versed in them.

He mulled over the words he’d just read as he moved, alternating between using his sword as a single handed weapon and a two handed weapon.

This is the writing of Prince Ardreth Altaine, heir to the throne of the once-great and mighty kingdom of Kalais. My wife, Luirlan, and I have had many names over the long centuries: Warden & Moira Whyndam of Crookshire, Alchilba. Rector & Alys Bright of Eddan, Torrent. Aethan & Killa Bedinn of Tantrisan, Morava. Now we are Aubric and Aisling Fairfax of Sedone, Alchilba. To my hopefully surviving son, Vail, I am sorry for everything. If you are reading this, it’s because I am not there to tell you.

YOU are the rightful heir to the throne of Kalais. The True Sovereign.

There is so much to say, and the beginning isn't the best place to start. This is quite the shock to you, I know, and I hope you can at least try to understand we had very good reasons to keep this from you. You know you had a sister, Ydrah, who died. We told you she had accompanied me on a job and was killed. That’s only slightly the truth. She grew up knowing everything, and it cost us her life. Ydrah was only 100 years old when she was killed in a failed attempt to take the capital city of Morava. We had been fighting to reunite my father’s kingdom for 400 years. Your mother and I had lost so much over those four centuries, but losing Ydrah was the final straw for both of us. She died in my arms, Vail. May you never know that agony. Your mother very nearly didn’t forgive me, and I wouldn’t have blamed her if she hadn’t.

At the time I am writing this, you are 79 years old. Older than I was, by three years, when your grandfather was murdered. Ydrah would be 295 if she survived. I can’t ever forgive myself for it. For my arrogance in thinking I could throw my young child at this war without risk. I couldn't do that you.

I didn't ever intend to keep this from you forever. It was important to give you as close to a normal childhood as I could. A good ruler understands the needs of his people, and this is something you most definitely do, since you grew up as one of those people. You understand how it feels when the crops don’t do well, and the nobility take their full share without considering how it leaves us with nothing, or very little. A man can appear to be many things, but the truth of his character shows in how he treats the weakest, and least fortunate of us. You’ve heard me say this many times. I don’t have to put Kingmaker in your hands to know who you are. King Vail Altain. The True Sovereign.

Vail spun to a stop, Kingmaker slicing downward in a two handed grip to slam into the ground. He left the sword there, the point dug deeply into the ground, and paced the yard, breathing heavily. His gaze fell upon the journal, and he resisted the urge to pick it up and chuck it into the nearby well.

His father started writing this 5 years ago. Two years before Sedone burned to the ground. Why? What prompted him to start writing this down, instead of just telling Vail? How was he supposed to take on 3 kingdoms with a company of 9 people? That is if they even agreed to stay and help. He carded his fingers through his hair and looked up at the sky, as if the clouds there could answer all of his questions.

Vail Altain. Not Fairfax. Altain. It was a name out of the history books, all of which stated the Altain family had been killed down to the last man, woman and child. Yet…here he was.

What was he supposed to do next?
 
Last edited:
THE HEALER
Aenwyn
Female - 97 - Gay

Aenwyn was sitting on the floor, leaning against the side of the bed, in a mixture of resting and dozing that she’d mastered after years of patients. Even as her butt went numb, she reminded herself that it was better than being drenched as she would have been outside. Besides, the room was safe, warm, and most importantly free. As the first rays of sunlight peaked through the curtains, she yawned widely, stretching her arms out as she began to move.

Shifting to her knees, she reached over and run her hand over Nimue’s forehead. She seemed to fall into dreams during the night. Once, Aenwyn had felt something off, but she could find nothing specific, certainly nothing as blatant as the seizures the night before. The failure bothered her, for how could she protect her patient if she couldn’t find the source? But she merely maintained her surveillance.

Standing, she went to the kettle hanging in the fireplace, scowling at the water inside. Lifting the cast iron kettle, she slipped behind the curtains to open the window. Then poured the water out. It was stale, and if she had a druid, she was going to use him. Wherever he was. Coming out from behind the drapes, she looked around the room, bemused by how few actually spent the night there. Even with Nimue taking the bed, there was plenty of room for bedrolls for the future questers. Still, for the druids, she was sure they’d prefer to sleep in as much nature as possible. Meaning the stables. At least with the hot girl’s animals, it was practically wild.

Returning to her patient’s bed, she tucked the sheet around the slender woman. “Good morning chickadee. Are you feeling any better?” She better be, considering how bad she was to begin with. “Let’s get you dressed more warmly. We can tie down the clothes so they can fit a little better. I can see if there’d be a tailor who could quickly hem it in.” Reaching into her bag she pulled out leather belts, which she’d used to protect patient’s teeth or as tourniquets. “I’m sure you want to be decent before the others come up.” As she unwrapped the belts, she continued, "I'll go and get breakfast and tea once you're settled. Then I'll tell the others to come up."

Location: Largest Room | With: Chickadee | Mood: We'll solve this. With breakfast



Aenwyn was sitting on the floor, leaning against the side of the bed, in a mixture of resting and dozing that she’d mastered after years of patients. Even as her butt went numb, she reminded herself that it was better than being drenched as she would have been outside. Besides, the room was safe, warm, and most importantly free. As the first rays of sunlight peaked through the curtains, she yawned widely, stretching her arms out as she began to move.

Shifting to her knees, she reached over and run her hand over Nimue’s forehead. She seemed to fall into dreams during the night. Once, Aenwyn had felt something off, but she could find nothing specific, certainly nothing as blatant as the seizures the night before. The failure bothered her, for how could she protect her patient if she couldn’t find the source? But she merely maintained her surveillance.

Standing, she went to the kettle hanging in the fireplace, scowling at the water inside. Lifting the cast iron kettle, she slipped behind the curtains to open the window. Then poured the water out. It was stale, and if she had a druid, she was going to use him. Wherever he was. Coming out from behind the drapes, she looked around the room, bemused by how few actually spent the night there. Even with Nimue taking the bed, there was plenty of room for bedrolls for the future questers. Still, for the druids, she was sure they’d prefer to sleep in as much nature as possible. Meaning the stables. At least with the hot girl’s animals, it was practically wild.

Returning to her patient’s bed, she tucked the sheet around the slender woman. “Good morning chickadee. Are you feeling any better?” She better be, considering how bad she was to begin with. “Let’s get you dressed more warmly. We can tie down the clothes so they can fit a little better. I can see if there’d be a tailor who could quickly hem it in.” Reaching into her bag she pulled out leather belts, which she’d used to protect patient’s teeth or as tourniquets. “I’m sure you want to be decent before the others come up.” As she unwrapped the belts, she continued, "I'll go and get breakfast and tea once you're settled. Then I'll tell the others to come up."
 











THE SELLSWORD


Myara Etyana Valar


Female - 28 - Gay



When Antigone sat down and pointed out the envy of the other men in the tavern while rolling her eyes, Myara immediately followed suit. Prophecy nonsense aside, this evening had already been ridiculous enough, and she doubled the speed at which she was eating trying to get out of there faster.

She blinked as the druid mentioned the bag, her mind flashing immediately to the dilapidated journal Vail carried with him everywhere he went. Myara had asked him about it once, but all he'd said was that it had belonged to his father and he hadn't been able to make himself read it yet.

Which Myara found absurd, considering he'd been searching for information all this time, but hadn't bothered to mention. Her job was to keep Vail alive- not get up close and personal with the contradictions of his emotional trauma.

As Antigone got up to leave and gave her a look that clearly said Men, I tell you, Myara chuckled silently in response and gave the slightest of nods, flicking her eyes in the elf's direction.

I know what you mean, she thought. I've got my hands full with this one, and we're neither involved nor related. But hey, what're you gonna do?

As the druid walked away, Myara thought again about her desire to grab a drink with Aenwyn, but realized the healer would almost certainly refuse to leave her patient. And besides, if she was being honest with herself, she needed some shuteye.

The mercenary polished off the last of her meal in under two minutes, downed the flagon of ale, and left the table to give the elves some privacy. Well, not that much privacy- she sat herself down at a table in the corner, close to the fire, and crossed her arms over her chest as she settled in to rest, keeping a watchful eye on the ancient beings who acted like children everywhere they went.

*****​

When Myara woke the next morning, Vail was gone. She shot up from her seat in a clanking panic, ignoring the cold and stiffness in her limbs.

Her first thought being that he might have run away, she made for the outside door, only for a flurry of movement to catch her eye on the left.

She turned to the courtyard door and pushed it open to find the elf, hair down and flowing in the breeze, going through the graceful paces of the drills he'd been taught by his father. Myara had never been able to master them- the drills were designed for elven grace and skill, and her fighting style was all about blunt efficiency. Still, it had always been nice to watch.

She leaned on the doorframe as she observed his movements, gleaning much from his body language. Clearly, since last night he'd had some time to process and think, and though still obviously very emotional, he seemed somewhat more at peace.

As he plunged his sword into the ground and began pacing the yard in agitation, looking up at the sky as if it might have answers for him and grasping fistfuls of his long black hair, Myara chuckled. It always amazed her that such an aged being could be so... young.

She peeled herself away from the wall, swiping the shutter staffs leaning against it as she went, and tossed one to Vail just as he heard her steps and turned to face her. He caught it just in time with a look of surprise on his face.

I know better than anyone that you don't do well when left alone with your thoughts, Vail, she thought. So time to get out of your head.

She didn't say any of this out loud though, of course. All she did was stand in front of him and slide one foot backwards for balance, holding up her staff and prepared to defend.


Location: Courtyard | With: Vail | Mood: Ready



When Antigone sat down and pointed out the envy of the other men in the tavern while rolling her eyes, Myara immediately followed suit. Prophecy nonsense aside, this evening had already been ridiculous enough, and she doubled the speed at which she was eating trying to get out of there faster.

She blinked as the druid mentioned the bag, her mind flashing immediately to the dilapidated journal Vail carried with him everywhere he went. Myara had asked him about it once, but all he'd said was that it had belonged to his father and he hadn't been able to make himself read it yet.

Which Myara found absurd, considering he'd been searching for information all this time, but hadn't bothered to mention. Her job was to keep Vail alive- not get up close and personal with the contradictions of his emotional trauma.

As Antigone got up to leave and gave her a look that clearly said Men, I tell you, Myara chuckled silently in response and gave the slightest of nods, flicking her eyes in the elf's direction.

I know what you mean, she thought. I've got my hands full with this one, and we're neither involved nor related. But hey, what're you gonna do?

As the druid walked away, Myara thought again about her desire to grab a drink with Aenwyn, but realized the healer would almost certainly refuse to leave her patient. And besides, if she was being honest with herself, she needed some shuteye.

The mercenary polished off the last of her meal in under two minutes, downed the flagon of ale, and left the table to give the elves some privacy. Well, not that much privacy- she sat herself down at a table in the corner, close to the fire, and crossed her arms over her chest as she settled in to rest, keeping a watchful eye on the ancient beings who acted like children everywhere they went.

*****​

When Myara woke the next morning, Vail was gone. She shot up from her seat in a clanking panic, ignoring the cold and stiffness in her limbs.

Her first thought being that he might have run away, she made for the outside door, only for a flurry of movement to catch her eye on the left.

She turned to the courtyard door and pushed it open to find the elf, hair down and flowing in the breeze, going through the graceful paces of the drills he'd been taught by his father. Myara had never been able to master them- the drills were designed for elven grace and skill, and her fighting style was all about blunt efficiency. Still, it had always been nice to watch.

She leaned on the doorframe as she observed his movements, gleaning much from his body language. Clearly, since last night he'd had some time to process and think, and though still obviously very emotional, he seemed somewhat more at peace.

As he plunged his sword into the ground and began pacing the yard in agitation, looking up at the sky as if it might have answers for him and grasping fistfuls of his long black hair, Myara chuckled. It always amazed her that such an aged being could be so... young.

She peeled herself away from the wall, swiping the shutter staffs leaning against it as she went, and tossed one to Vail just as he heard her steps and turned to face her. He caught it just in time with a look of surprise on his face.

I know better than anyone that you don't do well when left alone with your thoughts, Vail, she thought. So time to get out of your head.

She didn't say any of this out loud though, of course. All she did was stand in front of him and slide one foot backwards for balance, holding up her staff and prepared to defend.
 
THE FALLEN HEIR
Aevar Istedir
Male - 22 - Straight


Aevar sat at a table by himself in the corner of the tavern facing the stairs keeping mental notes on what was going on from afar. The whole thing seemed like a dream to him, the true heir appearing in this tavern when he had spent a lot of time trying to find the man himself. Though he never expected the true sovereign to be an elf which wasn't bad. But he hadn't expected that, to say the least.

Well, my search is finally over, though my problems probably have only just begun. I suppose the group seems fine enough; outside of Julian, I think the one I trust the most is Nimue. Though what encounter brought these circumstances together, I cannot say for sure. However, I know one thing my goal will remain the same, I will get back what was taken from me. Mother will learn the harsh realities of her own sentence soon enough. Aevar thought to himself, brooding over the whole matter still. With that being said, he wasn't a bad guy, but some wounds you couldn't shrug off.

Then there was the whole episode that happened last night, when Nimue collapsed and had a seizure. So many unknowns didn't make sense in his head, which was why he was sitting at the table alone. From this angle, he didn't see Julian as he leaned back in his chair, letting out a sigh. That was when he noticed the healer going up the stairs; he found her to be very blunt though he couldn't say that was a bad thing either.

Waving his hand over to one of the tavern workers, he pulled out a coin, "Some water and bread, and some soup if there is any left." He stated as the worker nodded, taking several of the coins and walking away from the table. Though I suppose I will have to wait and see how this all turns out. There have been a lot of revelations as of late; the siblings long though dead, have returned. Though I feel no kinship towards them, I suppose it is something to watch. He though to himself as he was brought away from his thoughts as the food he ordered was placed on the table in front of him.

Location: The Tavern | With: no one | Mood: Pondering
 











THE MALE DRUID


Agathon


Male - 26 - Bisexual




Hearing the abrupt words from his old friend, Agathon had a moment to selfishly think, ‘He’s changed.’ He’d wanted to return to the easy comradery of their youth. And as Julian continued, he realized, he’d changed because of them. He’d never given any thought to those left behind--beyond the fear of their parents. But their friends, he’d accepted the clean cut with ease when it protected his sister. Not that he’d change that. Leaving was best.

He snorted into his drink as Julian resumed his carefree attitude, perfectly willing to follow. “I’m sure you can pretty yourself up with any ladies’ mirror.” Even when they were younger, Agathon had been in awe with the ease Julian could talk to any lady, ‘Except my sister,’ he thought with a smirk. Now with his roguish looks, as if he was trouble enough to be enticing, the druid had no doubts about his prowess. “Maybe find your clothes in their drawers.” He suggested, calling back to the old argument only ladies would preen and groom as much as the other did.

And then he turned the attention back to Agathon. It was something he’d forgotten. Even with how brightly he shone, the younger boy had never felt lost in his shadow. Always that light would turn back to him. It was why Antigone could never convince him to avoid him. Still, with a shrug, he spoke mostly into his mug, “A boost from nothing isn’t so spectacular.” The heavy weight of shame wrapped around his shoulders, and without his sister around to see, he let it linger. While he would do anything, anything to protect her, he realized he was far outstripped by her. That was why he had to be extra vigilant, for her kind heart was her only weakness.

The air brought him her voice as she spoke to Vail, though not the words. He kept from asking for more, even as he turned to put eyes on her again. He wasn’t surprised when she came to him, to threaten Julian like old times, then warn him. It brought a nostalgic smile on his face as he squeezed her shoulder back, “Always, remember?” he joked once more, adding his own, “Good night” before she left.

Then he turned back to his friend with a smile. “Shall we?”



Location: bar | With: Julian | Mood: depressed but happy?



Hearing the abrupt words from his old friend, Agathon had a moment to selfishly think, ‘He’s changed.’ He’d wanted to return to the easy comradery of their youth. And as Julian continued, he realized, he’d changed because of them. He’d never given any thought to those left behind--beyond the fear of their parents. But their friends, he’d accepted the clean cut with ease when it protected his sister. Not that he’d change that. Leaving was best.

He snorted into his drink as Julian resumed his carefree attitude, perfectly willing to follow. “I’m sure you can pretty yourself up with any ladies’ mirror.” Even when they were younger, Agathon had been in awe with the ease Julian could talk to any lady, ‘Except my sister,’ he thought with a smirk. Now with his roguish looks, as if he was trouble enough to be enticing, the druid had no doubts about his prowess. “Maybe find your clothes in their drawers.” He suggested, calling back to the old argument only ladies would preen and groom as much as the other did.

And then he turned the attention back to Agathon. It was something he’d forgotten. Even with how brightly he shone, the younger boy had never felt lost in his shadow. Always that light would turn back to him. It was why Antigone could never convince him to avoid him. Still, with a shrug, he spoke mostly into his mug, “A boost from nothing isn’t so spectacular.” The heavy weight of shame wrapped around his shoulders, and without his sister around to see, he let it linger. While he would do anything, anything to protect her, he realized he was far outstripped by her. That was why he had to be extra vigilant, for her kind heart was her only weakness.

The air brought him her voice as she spoke to Vail, though not the words. He kept from asking for more, even as he turned to put eyes on her again. He wasn’t surprised when she came to him, to threaten Julian like old times, then warn him. It brought a nostalgic smile on his face as he squeezed her shoulder back, “Always, remember?” he joked once more, adding his own, “Good night” before she left.

Then he turned back to his friend with a smile. “Shall we?”
 
Last edited:











THE THIEF


Julian Valerius the IIIrd


Male - 25 - Straight



Julian burst out laughing at Agathon's comment about finding his clothes in ladies' drawers. To be perfectly honest, he had no real issue with wearing a dress once in a while (and in fact he'd done so a few times after getting really drunk) but, really, with his gentle nature and delicate features, Julian had always thought that Agathon would be quite lovely in drag.

If it wasn't for the fear of what Antigone would do to him over it, he probably would've attempted to convince the beautiful man to do it when they were kids.

"Kind as your thought undoubtedly is," Julian said, "women's clothes are extremely impractical for climbing in and out of windows, which my current profession requires I do frequently. Besides, you may not have noticed, but I am a good deal taller now than I was when we were children, and it's difficult to find a dress in my size." He finished this last statement with a wink.

Agathon's expression darkened in response to Julian's inquiry and, as he gave a muffled response without looking him in the eye, that familiar sadness lending a comical droop to his shoulders, Julian sighed.

"Nothing?" the rogue asked. "You had enough fire around you earlier to burn myself, the stables, and everything in them down to a crisp. Why do you always doubt yourself like this?"

Of course, Julian knew why. Agathon and Antigones's parents had always focused all their attention on his sister, much to her detriment, but the most twisted part was that, in doing so and choosing not to exploit the boy, they gave him a warped inferiority complex that persisted to this day.

Julian had always thought that part of the reason Lord and Lady Fletchborne didn't pay as much attention to their son was because they could sense he was a gentle soul, and would likely break under the kind of pressure that only made Imogen stronger- she'd always been tough.

Most perverted of all though, it was clear that, on some level, Agathon's parents had simply liked him better than his sister, and Julian was convinced that the druid's awareness of this underpinned his self-flagellation, whether he was conscious of it or not.

Of course, Antigone chose that very moment to show up and play Protective Older Sister. When she threatened his hair of all things, Julian's hands jumped to his mane in a defensive gesture, panicked expression coming to his face. You wouldn't, he thought, horrified.

She then admonished her brother and wished them good night. As he always did, Julian wistfully watched her leave before being brought out of his reverie by Agathon. When the druid lifted his tankard and turned to him with a mischievous smile, the rogue grinned from ear to ear, glad that age seemed to have stripped away at least some of his friend's childhood timidity.

He lifted his own tankard in response and clanged it against Agathon's, their common self-destructive energy in full swing. "We shall."

*****​

The next morning, Julian was rudely awakened by the neighing of a horse. He scrunched up his eyes against more light than he was willing to put with at such an absurd hour, cracking open an eyelid to take a gander at his surroundings.

He appeared to be lying in a pile of hay, staring up at the stable ceiling, tankard in hand. A loud, grunting snore alerted him to Agathon's presence, and he turned to see his friend beneath him, out cold. Apparently, they had gotten so drunk that they'd just stumbled in here and passed out on top of each other.

As he started to feel the beginnings of a headache coming on, Julian had one coherent thought form in his mind.

If Antigone finds us like this, she's going to kill me.


Location: Stables | With: Agathon | Mood: Groggy




Julian burst out laughing at Agathon's comment about finding his clothes in ladies' drawers. To be perfectly honest, he had no real issue with wearing a dress once in a while (and in fact he'd done so a few times after getting really drunk) but, really, with his gentle nature and delicate features, Julian had always thought that Agathon would be quite lovely in drag.

If it wasn't for the fear of what Antigone would do to him over it, he probably would've attempted to convince the beautiful man to do it when they were kids.

"Kind as your thought undoubtedly is," Julian said, "women's clothes are extremely impractical for climbing in and out of windows, which my current profession requires I do frequently. Besides, you may not have noticed, but I am a good deal taller now than I was when we were children, and it's difficult to find a dress in my size." He finished this last statement with a wink.

Agathon's expression darkened in response to Julian's inquiry and, as he gave a muffled response without looking him in the eye, that familiar sadness lending a comical droop to his shoulders, Julian sighed.

"Nothing?" the rogue asked. "You had enough fire around you earlier to burn myself, the stables, and everything in them down to a crisp. Why do you always doubt yourself like this?"

Of course, Julian knew why. Agathon and Antigones's parents had always focused all their attention on his sister, much to her detriment, but the most twisted part was that, in doing so and choosing not to exploit the boy, they gave him a warped inferiority complex that persisted to this day.

Julian had always thought that part of the reason Lord and Lady Fletchborne didn't pay as much attention to their son was because they could sense he was a gentle soul, and would likely break under the kind of pressure that only made Imogen stronger- she'd always been tough.

Most perverted of all though, it was clear that, on some level, Agathon's parents had simply liked him better than his sister, and Julian was convinced that the druid's awareness of this underpinned his self-flagellation, whether he was conscious of it or not.

Of course, Antigone chose that very moment to show up and play Protective Older Sister. When she threatened his hair of all things, Julian's hands jumped to his mane in a defensive gesture, panicked expression coming to his face. You wouldn't, he thought, horrified.

She then admonished her brother and wished them good night. As he always did, Julian wistfully watched her leave before being brought out of his reverie by Agathon. When the druid lifted his tankard and turned to him with a mischievous smile, the rogue grinned from ear to ear, glad that age seemed to have stripped away at least some of his friend's childhood timidity.

He lifted his own tankard in response and clanged it against Agathon's, their common self-destructive energy in full swing. "We shall."

*****​

The next morning, Julian was rudely awakened by the neighing of a horse. He scrunched up his eyes against more light than he was willing to put with at such an absurd hour, cracking open an eyelid to take a gander at his surroundings.

He appeared to be lying in a pile of hay, staring up at the stable ceiling, tankard in hand. A loud, grunting snore alerted him to Agathon's presence, and he turned to see his friend beneath him, out cold. Apparently, they had gotten so drunk that they'd just stumbled in here and passed out on top of each other.

As he started to feel the beginnings of a headache coming on, Julian had one coherent thought form in his mind.

If Antigone finds us like this, she's going to kill me.
 
Last edited:
THE FEMALE DRUID
Antigone
Female - 29 - Straight

Antigone sat on a tall hill overlooking the sea, leaning against a sturdy oak growing there. It was one of her favourite places to go when she needed some peace and quiet away from the bustling Grove. it was far enough away for her to have the illusion of being alone, but close enough for her to still hear them calling to one another. She closed her eyes briefly, wondering if the earth would try talking to her, as she usually did here. The sounds of the waves far below reached her, along with the crying of the gulls and other seabirds. The warm sun hit her skin, and she stretched out her fingers, seeking to catch every bit of warmth; a welcome change from the cold and wet.

She opened her eyes at a rustling in the bushes nearby, and frowned at the sight of a startling, three eyed fox peering out of the shrubs at her. As soon as it spotted her looking, it disappeared into the bushes, yipping shrilly. She leapt to her feet to give chase, only to stop dead in her tracks when the largest acorn she had ever seen dropped to the ground in front of her, disintegrating on impact. The sky darkened above her, and she backed away from the tree, a chill running down her arms. She rubbed at them, gasping softly as her tattoos burst into blazing light.

"What the..." She whispered, glancing around at the storm tossed sea, the dancing grass and the wind whipped branches. Her hair whipped around, coming loose from its braid. She opening her mouth to demand to know what was wrong, when a streak of lightening speared down from the sky to strike the giant oak she had just been leaning on with a roat of noise -

Atigone woke with a small gasp and pushed herself into a sitting position, eliciting a small grunt of protest from Luna. "Shh. Luna." She whispered, reaching out to bury her fingers in the bear's thick fur. As if to remind her of her strange dream, the tattoos on her arms burst with a brief light before fading. The earth was trying to talk to talk to her about something, but, as usual, she wasn't being very clear.

You could save a lot of time if you just said it, she thought, raking her fingers through her hair to rebraid her hair. She made quick work of it, pulling the mass of it over her shoulder to get at it all, then stood up and left the stall.

She stopped when she saw a feet poking through Barrow's open stall, and knew at a glance they weren't her brother's. She stepped over to peer inside, and covered her mouth to stop the snort of laughter from escaping her mouth. Julian was sprawled on top Agathon, who snored deeply beneath him. Barrow sat squeezed into the back of the stall giving her a look of pure displeasure. She beckoned at him, and without hesitation, he bunched his muscles and leapt clear over them, startling one of the horses into neighing. Julian stirred and she looked around quickly, grapping a pair of hoof nipper hanging from a nearby wall.

Remembering Julian's look of horror when she threatened his hair, she took hold of the nippers handles and closed them forcefully. "Good morning!" She said cheerfully, trying not to laugh. "How about a manicure to start things off?"

Location: Stables | With: Animals, Julian & Agathon | Mood: A mix of confusion and amusement


The Druid - Antigone
Location: Stables
With: Animals, Julian & Agathon
Mood: A mix of confusion and amusement

Antigone sat on a tall hill overlooking the sea, leaning against a sturdy oak growing there. It was one of her favourite places to go when she needed some peace and quiet away from the bustling Grove. it was far enough away for her to have the illusion of being alone, but close enough for her to still hear them calling to one another. She closed her eyes briefly, wondering if the earth would try talking to her, as she usually did here. The sounds of the waves far below reached her, along with the crying of the gulls and other seabirds. The warm sun hit her skin, and she stretched out her fingers, seeking to catch every bit of warmth; a welcome change from the cold and wet.

She opened her eyes at a rustling in the bushes nearby, and frowned at the sight of a startling, three eyed fox peering out of the shrubs at her. As soon as it spotted her looking, it disappeared into the bushes, yipping shrilly. She leapt to her feet to give chase, only to stop dead in her tracks when the largest acorn she had ever seen dropped to the ground in front of her, disintegrating on impact. The sky darkened above her, and she backed away from the tree, a chill running down her arms. She rubbed at them, gasping softly as her tattoos burst into blazing light.

"What the..." She whispered, glancing around at the storm tossed sea, the dancing grass and the wind whipped branches. Her hair whipped around, coming loose from its braid. She opening her mouth to demand to know what was wrong, when a streak of lightening speared down from the sky to strike the giant oak she had just been leaning on with a roat of noise -

Atigone woke with a small gasp and pushed herself into a sitting position, eliciting a small grunt of protest from Luna. "Shh. Luna." She whispered, reaching out to bury her fingers in the bear's thick fur. As if to remind her of her strange dream, the tattoos on her arms burst with a brief light before fading. The earth was trying to talk to talk to her about something, but, as usual, she wasn't being very clear.

You could save a lot of time if you just said it, she thought, raking her fingers through her hair to rebraid her hair. She made quick work of it, pulling the mass of it over her shoulder to get at it all, then stood up and left the stall.

She stopped when she saw a feet poking through Barrow's open stall, and knew at a glance they weren't her brother's. She stepped over to peer inside, and covered her mouth to stop the snort of laughter from escaping her mouth. Julian was sprawled on top Agathon, who snored deeply beneath him. Barrow sat squeezed into the back of the stall giving her a look of pure displeasure. She beckoned at him, and without hesitation, he bunched his muscles and leapt clear over them, startling one of the horses into neighing. Julian stirred and she looked around quickly, grapping a pair of hoof nipper hanging from a nearby wall.

Remembering Julian's look of horror when she threatened his hair, she took hold of the nippers handles and closed them forcefully. "Good morning!" She said cheerfully, trying not to laugh. "How about a manicure to start things off?"
 
You must log in or register to reply here.

Users who are viewing this thread

Total: 4 (members: 0, guests: 4)

Similar threads

TanteRegenbogen
Fantasy Is The Demon Lord A Myth [Arcanepunk High Fantasy]
demons high fantasy retrofuturistic
Replies
13
Views
272
TanteRegenbogen
TanteRegenbogen
Siren77
Multiple Settings The Unraveling
high fantasy
Replies
9
Views
267
seasonedcat
seasonedcat
JSPD2000
Fantasy Blood & Ruin (A Dark Fantasy Roleplay)[IC]
Replies
19
Views
557
Aura-Slash
Aura-Slash
DarKnight36
Fantasy Embers of Telani
adventure collaborative exploration
Replies
1
Views
90
PiePillager
PiePillager
Nothingness
Fantasy T͓̽h͓̽e͓̽ ͓̽S͓̽e͓̽v͓̽e͓̽n͓̽ ͓̽E͓̽n͓̽v͓̽o͓̽y͓̽s͓̽ (IC)
fantasy
Replies
24
Views
900
Nothingness
Nothingness
Back
Top