Illarion.org

((open rp if you want. im just bored so i wanted to add an "arrival" for my new main character.....yes i am back... dont say a word nitram))
The waves broke along the rocks at the small harbor. It was a calm day. The sky was blue, the ocean clearer than usual. Its was also very quiet. A ship slowly rolled in against the current in the water. The ship slowly slid toward the dock, a few sailors jumped out and began tieing up the boat. It was not that big of a boat. Perhaps 20 people on it. a few traders, the crew, and an elf. As the sailors lowered the crossing platform across to the wood of the docks, the elf walked out. the sound of her fit hitting hitting something solid again was a relief for the elf. the elf continued walking down, her brown-black colored robe blowing slightly in the wind behind the elf. a hood was masking the part of the face, the nose and the mouth was all that was visible, aside from a small bit of hair flowing out down the neck.

once dry land was reached, She lowered her hood revealing a soft, white face with rosey cheeks. she had long beautiful black hair which reched just past her shoulders.her lips were painted a redish color, but not as strong of one as most woman would have had. she gave a final wave to the sailers, as well as a thank you, then pulled out a small parchmant, which looked to be a map, and began walking forward.

There seemed to be a slight flaw in this woman though, someting out of the ordinary (for a woman that looked so formal like this) she had a bow on her back, and a cut from her left temple that went down, then curled in just slightly under her left eye. the wound looked just a few days old, and was still slightly red with blood, the wound looks also somewhat deep. her left eye was also a darker looking color than her right, but it is unsure exactly what shade it is.

After a few more glances the woman headed in the direction of trollsbane, taking her time, she reached the maine town of Gobiath in only a quarter short of an hour. When she reached it she sat down in the tavern, by the fireplace.

a hurried conversation between two people:

Cpt. Tareldar: Ilyamorion, you can't be serious?
Ilyamorion:There is no time, my father will be searching for me.
Cpt. Tareldar: But.... surely Sir you there can be ammends.....
Ilyamorion: The time for that has past, are there any vessels leaving the mainland?
Cpt. Tareldar: *pauses and thinks a moment*......well yes but only a small one bound to the isle of Gobaith.....but there is surely no one on that isle that .....well......looks like you.
Ilyamorion:A risk I must take thank you friend......here take this and all this shall be forgotten *hands him a vial from his coat*
Cpt. Tareldar: ........*takes the vial


Ilyamorion reaches the docks and approaches the captian of the boat and with a brief exchange of words Ilyamorion drops a purse of silver into the captain's coat pocket and boards the vessel wearing nothing visible, other than a simple merchant's cloak. Once aboard, a deckhand leads him to a hidden smuggler's compartment, he ducks in and huddles himself agianst damp wood of the ship pulling his cloak and hood tightly agianst himself. Somehow he falls asleep only to wake as a deckhand yells shore. He knocks to be let out of the compartment and stands on deck to a calm beautiful day.

As the boat is preparing to dock he begins to examine all the poeple on the boat none catch his interest until he spots the elfess. He is quite careful to not let anyone know he is watching her. Once she steps off the boat and gains some distance he casually gets off the boat drawing no attention to himself. He sees her walking slowly and takes advantage of the situation. He waits for her to be distracted, and nimbly without detection slides a note into her robe pocket, then slips into the woods to begin his new life on a new isle.

Deep in the mist of the woods, there lurks a tall athletic elf male with tied back, straw-like white hair, ever wandering. A dagger is settled on his belt, and a crossbow is strapped to his arm. With his hooded cloak wrapped finely around his neck, accompanied by wulf furs and a threadbear scarf covering the lower part of his face, one could tell he is certainly a man of the woodland.

The elf gazes upon the dead wulf in which he had just shot down..'Better luck next time..' he jokes to himself, and kneels down beside it and pulls out the bolt. Beginning to remove its fur, suddenly a branch is heard snapping near his location..'hmm?'..The elf turns fastly around, his eyes now scoping the location, darting around like arrows. A figure is seen in the distance, yet hard to dipict. The elf slowly and discreetly moves swiftly forward to get a better look..'...Hm..never can be... too carefull...', the elf readies his crossbow.

His stature is the average size of any elf and he continues to wear the same merchants cloak and hood and walks without a sound in the forrest unlike any man. He remains in the shadows hidden from view. Until a deer he is walking by haphazardly steps on a branch breaking it.

Within an instant the merchants cloak is bodiless and flutters to the ground. No sign of a figure remains and the deer sensing danger darts away in instinct.

The elf with the crossbow suddenly raises an eyebrow...
'Hm..must've been imagining things...'