Illarion.org

Posted: **Fri Jan 23, 2009 8:46 am**

(( open RP to those involved and those who want to be ))

The dark haired elfess looks down at the seemingly crazed elf child and shakes her head as he draws a blade and tries to menace her. "Nothing but trouble there," she tells the boy, her patience clearly strained as she glances around the empty plaza. "Where is everyone?" she wonders. As he continues to scream his nonsense at her, it slowly coallesces into something that concerns her. "Why would he think I'm holding Wolf somewhere," she thinks to herself, but outwardly gives a snotty response. The boy becomes enraged, accusing her of being a witch and making threats, "Where are you keeping my father?"

"His father?" she repeats inwardly, always maintaining a cool exterior but unable to hide her confusion. Her confusion grows with the usual commotion that inevitably flows through the streets of Trollsbane and eventually her thin patience evaporates completely and she draws her weapons. "Final warning," she glares down at him as a small crowd gathers to watch, no one stepping forward to assist. Suddenly a stranger emerges from the crowd, "Trouble miss?" he asks as he tugs at his mustache. "Nothing I can't handle," she replies as she lazily parries the ineffective blows. Her annoyance grows at the boy's unrelenting attacks and she finally strikes back, delivering a swift and heavy blow with her maces and knocking him to the ground.

Busy with her own thoughts, she strides off, leaving the boy coughing and bleeding on the ground. Feeling a familiar draw, she makes her way to the graveyard looking to clear her mind with exercise. The rhythmic, practiced motions of her weapons lull her spinning thoughts as her focus intensifies on the moment. Always at the edge of her consciousness is the boy's voice accusing her of holding Wolf somewhere. "Did he say the Northern Woods?" she asks herself before shaking the thought away as she barely dodges a strike from a mage.

Working her way through the dim, stone halls and finding others there for training, she eventually meets that one man from the plaza in Bane - the only one that stepped forward to help. "Keep it casual," she tells herself, resisting the urge to pepper him with questions but somehow finding a way to stay near him.

Alone at the end of the evening, she lays back and tries to remember the words that echoed in the hall of the graveyard. "What did he say? He'd like to see Wolf dead? A lot has changed?" Her eyes close, but her mind remains troubled.

Posted: **Sat Jan 24, 2009 12:05 am**

The huge elf lay across several chairs, as he had done for the past month, encased in a frozen layer of ice. Every inch of him was coated, his skin holding a blue hue as icicles hung from parts of his body, at times reaching the floor. His left arm ended in a horrific stump, the wound hidden by a mixture of ice and frozen blood, while the wooden floor beneath him was stained red. From his lower lip hung a single red icicle of blood, his face framed by his hair encrusted with ice.

Only his eyes seemed alive, dark and constantly moving for the entire month, never closing, always watching, and waiting, glinting with the pure anger of an animal. He had been in her house so long he had began naming pieces of furniture in his mind. He wondered if he was still sane, but it comforted him that he could still hate. I will taste your blood witch.

Posted: **Sat Jan 24, 2009 12:55 am**

*Moving through the night barely seen except possibly a glow from his emerald green eyes, Bashyr follows his orders exactly. With the swiftness of the panther his massive frame runs easily through the forest having done the same many times. Finally at his destination yet barely making a sound he moves toward the elf sniffing the air, his belly growling at the scent of blood. Appearing satisfied he quickly turns... back to Na-Chaya.*

Posted: **Mon Jan 26, 2009 12:37 am**

Lying slumped against a tree, the elf remained still, shivering from the cold and slowly regaining his strength. He reached for his trouser leg, ripping off a strip and wrapping it firmly round the end of the stump on his left arm, jerking back his head and wincing from the pain. He lay back against the tree, closing his eyes and letting his limbs go slack and his brain rest, only to find it awakened instantly by a cacophony of voices.

The buzzing of a fly, magnified 50 times stung his ears, while every where seemed to be rustling, and tapping, like the tiny feet of a million beetles. And the smell.. the smell was overpowering. He could see everything around him.. without his eyes open. Giving a yell of pain, he clutched his head, stumbling away from the tree and lumbering forwards, grasping his temple as he squeezed his eyes shut. Wolf crashed through the woods, before finally coming to a halt by a river, falling to his knees and letting his hands fall from his face, tears of pain trickling down his cheeks as he stared into the water.

His reflection stared back at him, and for a moment he didnt realise who it was. But it was him.. same mouth, same cheeks, same brows, same.. wait. Those werent my eyes. His eyes seemed to sparkle with some magic energy, glimmering a light shade of green as they looked back at him.

But he was still himself. He didnt care what the witch had done, he was still wolf. And he was still alive. Thoughts circled his brain as he pulled on his tattered coat, and stumbled along in away from the forest and into the direction of trollsbane.

Posted: **Mon Jan 26, 2009 2:30 am**

Growing restless from waiting, the dark-haired elfess finally gives in to her fears, putting on her best armor and readying her most powerful weapons.

"He said the Northern Woods," she repeats to herself as she heads through Bane toward the northern gate. Stopping at the stables as an afterthought, she leads away a mule packed lightly with provisions. Returning to the depot, she takes a careful inventory of what she's carrying before starting the journey.

Gripping the mule by the reigns she nods once decisively, saying to herself, "North," before setting off with a strong, confident stride in entirely the wrong direction. Picking her way over the bridge and along the water, she skirts the edge of the forest constantly scanning the area.

Posted: **Mon Jan 26, 2009 4:52 am**

Wolf stumbled out of the forest, barely taking in his surroundings as he blundered is way through, tripping over every now and then as he fought to regain his equalibrium. The sounds of birds and animals echoed through his head, and every step he took seemed to cause a jolt of pain to shoot through him. His ears ringing, he finally collapsed on the forest outskirts, kneeling beside a road and flinging his hands out to break his fall.

He lay there breathlessly, trying to regain control of his battered body, his expression one of a drunken stupor. Suddenly, the sound of hooves clattering against the road filtered through his ears, and he opened an eye, blinking blearily.

Posted: **Mon Jan 26, 2009 5:58 am**

A short distance off the elfess notices a dark form on the ground, something out of place. Loosening her weapons in their casings and securing the mule to a tree she slips into the woods, disappearing among the trees as she cuts a circuitous path to the spot.

Peering out from the safety of her cover, a small gasp escapes her as she sees strange eyes looking out from a familiar face. Throwing aside caution, she rushes from her hiding spot and kneels down near the battered elf.

Wolf lifts his head to look up at her, his eyes opening slowly, before he raises a brow and speaks in a hoarse voice. 'Starling?'

Masking her enormous relief with a slow, crooked smile the elfess pushes a clump of hair from his face and nods. "You're looking good hun." Letting her eyes wander over him slowly, taking in what she can of the extent of his injuries she adds in a gentler tone, "Need a lift?"

He grins weakly at her, and attempts to stand shakily, nodding as his face is obscured by his hair, 'Aye. Good to see you elfess.' He seems to shake himself briskly, before straightening slowly and grunting down at her.

Starling slips her shoulder under his arm and offers him support as she leads him toward the mule. She quickly removes the bags the mule carries and adds them to her own burden, her movements practiced and efficient. "Rest while we travel," she says softly as she straightens the blanket on the mule's back.

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Dilemna

Dilemna