(( PROLOGUE: Just a tad bit of explaining for anyone taking the time to read this and possibly respond. This is and shall be the tale of a once-known elfess, Ayla To'lorn. Upon her death and burial with Findari's Bow, it was said that her spirit was taken to the Goddess Findari and she was given the body of the Falcon to act as a messenger when the time arrived. OOC reasons have led me to be fairly inactive in this up until now, however I found the Demon Goddess quest an ideal reason for her return. To those who either worship Findari or know Ayla, they will be able to recognize the Falcon and sense her within the creature. From there, it shall be left to written, role-played explanation. Thanks! ))
It is time I made the true decision for a change. It is time I do something of meaning, no matter what it may cost me in the end.
The dark and faded shadow of a large bird glided effortlessly along the tops of the budding trees just west of the swamp, the grey silhouette flitting and rolling lazily along the mostly-bare and dew touched branches. The massive yet elegant falcon that cast the silhouette flapped her large wings once, angling one down to send her banking left sharply over the trees. Her dark eyes, an unnerving and unnatural shade of green, were locked upon the well-known building far before her, its walls dug into the very mountains behind it. Her large and beautifully curved head turned aside, attention flicking here and there as her wings dropped down once more. A thermal rolling up from the earth below sent her high above the Knight’s castle, where she banked again and spiraled slowly down to the rough-shaped stone of the battlements. Her talons stretched forth, digging into the stone and finding a foothold as she came to a rest, wings folding tightly to her body. The white-plumed chest of the falcon rose slowly, as if she were taking a deep breath of air. Her head dipped down, beak touching her breast as her green eyes stared forth over the castle and the road that led to Troll’s Bane beneath her.
The air was crisp and cold, still touched with the bite of winter as the winds blew with soft howls between the mountainsides and through the open windows of the castle. To the east, the vivid orange globe of the sun was just beginning to crest the curve of the world, casting a vivid array of colors against the blue-grey background of dawn. Dew drops still clung to the newly growing grass and small leaves of the trees, causing the landscape to almost glimmer with the refraction of light upon the beads of water. Save the breezes that slid and gently rustled through the branches and grass, or the distant melody of waking songbirds, not a thing stirred in the surroundings settled beneath and around the falcon. No one moved within the castle beneath her, no one walked the path from Troll’s Bane to Varshikar. The sheer lack of others, despite the early hours and predictability, left an ache deep within the creature’s chest. Her eyes narrowed as she lifted her head gently, staring toward the sunrise. What the falcon knew of these lands had changed in the past years, to put it gently.
The large bird had frequented the castle many times, seen on occasion from the remnants of the Knighthood, though never remarked upon. For the past few months, her visits had grown more and more frequent, often coming to perch upon the battlement and watch over the group silently as they conducted business and meetings. She had heard talk of the Goddess, of what she had promised and done to the people of Troll’s Bane. The people alone seemed as if they stood no chance. They had not the help of the Gods, save Zhambra himself. This realization had sent a strong worry through the falcon, causing her to linger more and more often within the places she could hear. And the more she heard, the worse it grew.
Findari, release me. They need more than a miracle, this time. This is no petty “demon” they toy with..
Flicking one wing anxiously, the falcon breathed in deeply once more. Then her weight shifted forward, both wings spreading out fully. With one powerful push, her white body was sent back up into the air and into the thermals. Instead of banking left and heading back into the forests as she always did, the large falcon instead took to following the road toward Troll’s Bane. Her eyes remained narrowed as she flew on, talons tucked tightly up against her body. She had angled herself in the air for speed, moving along the distance with ease as she flew over the rise of the town’s walls. Dropping down sharply, the falcon slid through and around the buildings. So close was she that her wings brushed those of passers-by on occasion, catching them off-guard by the unusual sight. A massive white falcon was certainly not something seen every day, nor was a falcon so used to human contact that it felt comfortable to fly amongst them. Taking herself around the town’s barriers once, the falcon finally settled just on the battlements above the main gate into town. As she lit upon the stone, wings stretched out and weight tipped forward, her curved beak parted with a nerve-wracking cry. Not once did she cry, not twice. Four times, one almost immediately after the other did the falcon’s eerie call sound through the early-morning air of Troll’s Bane. Not many would understand the meaning, most would simply pass it off as a strange beast.
Some, however, would look to the falcon and know precisely what she was asking for.