Illarion.org

Posted: **Wed Nov 12, 2008 8:11 am**

((closed rp))

The moon hung high in the nebulous sky and glinted off her wavy golden hair as the elfess wound her way through the darkness. To anyone watching, she seems almost ethereal, gliding noiselessly towards her destination. A thick fog rolls in slowly, almost unnoticeably until one suddenly couldn't see.

Aliana had just left her son with his grandfather, Julius, her troubled mind not even paying attention to her surroundings. Her fiancee and father of her son, disappears for days at a time with no word and now Julius' words flowed repeatedly through her head, "'Tis not safe to harbor that color of hair these days.." "A good few people are out for blood in the form of that surname"...like a broken record, again and again until she thought her head might explode. Her son's safety means more to her than anything else, and leaving him with Julius seemed best for now. Despite that, she keeps darting glances over her cloaked shoulder, as if contemplating retracing her footsteps, if only to see her son's face again.

Her footsteps slow and she pauses beneath a fragrant cherry tree. She raises a pale, elegant hand to pluck a few ripe berries, tossing them into her mouth as she turns and leans against the strong trunk.

Posted: **Thu Nov 13, 2008 6:30 pm**

Someone watched.

He was a huge elf, his body covered by tattered leather clothes and dirt, and he was lying stomach first in a bush about ten metres to her left.

Bloodshot eyes stared at her through a mass of greasy black hair which lay plastered over his pointed, heavyset face, while his breath came in short, ragged bursts. A tongue ran over his left canine, before working its way across his scarred, blackened lips. My voices are back.

Wolf's mind was filled with a constant scream, his lungs ripping open his chest, his heart thumping under his tongue, all responding to the urge the voice seemed to inflame within him. The urge was to kill the innocent young elfess in front of him. It was not his urge, it was the urge the bloodlord instilled within him and awoke whenever he wanted amusement or had need. So Wolf rose.

Thick, dirt-coloured hands pushed into the earth, and the tall elf stood, giving no sound but his breath, his fingers opening and closing on air. For a moment, he was calm. Time had stopped. Then he stepped out from the undergrowth. He didnt know who she was, he simply knew he had to kill her.

I cant resist.

Slowly, as if born out of some demonic nightmare, the elf moved towards her, his face contorting into a horrific snarl, his limbs gathering pace as he got closer, his entire body drunk on the sudden bloodlust.

When she looked to her left, she'd see a long shadow, before a dark shape, and finally his face. And then two wide hands would clamp over her arms. After that, she'd probably be a little scared.

Posted: **Fri Nov 14, 2008 12:00 am**

Whatever sense or inner warning that made the hairs stand up on the back of her neck was useless by the time she realized what was happening. Hands shot out from the darkness to grab her before she could move a muscle, much less utter a sound. She stared up at the hulking elf in terror, not of anything he'd done to her yet, but from the mad look in his eyes.

The first thought in her head was "Damien" and her lips moved with the word. The darkness seemed to suffocate as she tested the elf's strength, needing only a slight tug to realize it was pointless to fight against his muscle. Perhaps she could fight him with her wit, out smart him in some way, but the demonic look in his eyes didn't give her much hope. Her mouth opened once, twice...trying to force words from her throat and finally succeeding, "Who...who are you?" She stared up at him, her arms firmly in his grasp, waiting for an answer.

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Innocence

Innocence