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Author Topic: Thirsty Herald XV: Day 3 Firstflame  (Read 164897 times)
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Mina
Ávash'deláey
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« on: November 05, 2006, 02:16:23 PM »

New IC thread.  
« Last Edit: February 21, 2007, 05:24:44 AM by Lady Cherri » Logged

Drasil Razorfang
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Elf, Meladrhim/ Injerin


« Reply #1 on: November 06, 2006, 07:00:23 AM »

After hours of attacking his system, Navar’s deadly poison was finally neutralized within Drasil’s body.  The unconscious elf woke slowly, his blurred vision catching fading glimpses of the drab wooden ceiling of the tavern as his golden eyes fluttered open.  His arm ached, despite the white bandage that engulfed it.  The wound which had finally healed over had stained the once spotless cloth blood red.  Propping himself up in the unfamiliar bed, the elf took in the unfamiliar surroundings.  His tattered shirt lay sprawled across a chair, a jagged slash through the sleeve.  Barren walls suggested that the patron was relatively new to the tavern.  Few belongings lay scattered about, the most noticeable of which were small pouches of leaves and a few odd clothes.  Beside him lay Cherri slumbering fitfully as she tossed on the mattress.  Her beautiful dress was torn, and her pouches lay sprawled upon the floor next to her.  Beads of sweat rolled down the woman’s face as she thrashed about.  Reaching over with his good arm, Drasil gently pushed a few plastered strands of damp hair from the exhausted magess’ face before lightly brushing his lips past hers, planting a soft kiss.

Scooting out of bed, his head spinning the elf staggered over to his shirt.  Slipping the ruined garment over his muscular torso he proceeded to the small washbasin in the corner of the room.  Filling the shiny basin with water provided in a sizeable pitcher, Drasil quietly began to wash.  Using a small piece of cloth that he found on a small wooden table with the pitcher, the elf began to clean his body, erasing most traces of the fight.  Plunging the small rag into the cool water, the warrior wrung it dry before setting about his cleaning.  Starting with his face, the elf began to scrub, removing the grime left by cooled sweat.  When his pallid features began to glow red do to the excess scrubbing Drasil proceeded to washing the rest of his body.  Carelessly flinging his clothes on the ground as he stripped down, the elf checked upon the sleeping woman to make sure she had not seen his nakedness before plunging into the cool bath.

Starting at his blood spattered back he slowly and methodically rinsed his entire body, carefully avoiding his injured arm.  Carefully removing the bandage from over the wound with a wince, the elf proceeded to clean out the gruesome wound.  Despite Cherri’s expert skills with stitching, blood has still managed to work its way out through the seams.  Now dried, it covered the majority of the arm in a giant scab.  Gingerly using his rag, wincing every time the two made contact, Drasil wiped off the excess scabbing and blood, cleaning the sore arm and exposing the stitches and sewn skin.  Satisfied with his work, the elf grabbed a clean bandage from Cherri’s pile and re-wrapped the wound to prevent infection.  Dripping wet, Drasil stepped out of the now bloody water and onto the creaking wooden floors.  Drying himself quickly, the elf encircled his waist in a towel, covering his groin and upper thighs before heaving the dirty water out the window.

Hearing two patrons coming up the stairs, he hastily made his way over to the door, quietly shutting and turning the lock.  A smile on his face, he turned towards the bed that contained the sleeping Cherri.  Silently creeping across the bed towards her slumbering figure, the elf saw that her vehement thrashings had continued.  Shaking her gently, hoping to awake Cherri from her troubled rest, the woman began to speak, though her eyes remained closed.  As she spoke, electricity sparked between her outstretched hands, ready leap towards the ceiling at any moment, sending the whole roof crashing down upon the couple.  Quickly flipping through his knowledge of magic, Drasil had an idea.  Seizing a handful of damp silver hair, he winced as he tugged ferociously, hoping to cause enough pain to end the spell.  “This better work,” he thought, looking nervously at the wooden beams that supported the ceiling.

Drasil Razorfang CD

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Cherri Rowandyn
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Elf, Quaelhoirhim / Ylfferhim / Sanhorrhim


« Reply #2 on: November 06, 2006, 11:52:23 AM »

The forest seemed to grow darker and the moon seemed hidden behind the clouds that floated cross the star studded sky.  Her concentration was intense and she barely noticed a dark figure emerging from the shadows of the forest.  As her hands began to part ready to strike the being down to its death with a bolt of lighting Cherri suddenly became overpowered by a horendous pain in her head.  She must not break her concentration, was all she could think.  But the pain grew worse and the static between her hands began to flicker as if ready to fade.

Cherri continued on.  It felt as tho something was tugging at her hair.  With a startling cry Cherri was ripped from her dream.  The pain in her head had been to great.

Cherri's breath came in fast gulps of air.  She sat straight up and was at first disorientedby the sights that came slowly into focus.  The room was dark as the last rays of light filtered in through the window.  And something had a holt of her hair.  Her memory seemed to finally grab hold of where she was and her body eased back onto the pillow.  Her back felt wet and cold as she layed back down. Turning her head slightly she felt the pain ease in her scalp.  Drasil's golden eyes seemed to almost glow in the fading dark.  

She had been dreaming.  There were more gentler  ways of waking a person, was Cherri's first thought.  He must have been tugging her hair.  It felt as if she were bald in one spot.  Cherri gently probed the area that hurt to make sureshe wasn't.

She had been casting in her sleep.  She had been taught that mages could inadvertingly cast spells in their sleep if the were not careful.  Perhaps this was the case.  Cherri rolled to her side facing Drasil and propped herself up on her elbow.  The low cut of the bodice of her dress showing her milky white cleavage perfectly.

Her eyes took in the sight of the elf before her.  His muscles were tensed and as her eyes swept over the rest of his form, she noticed he was only clade in a towel which at the moment was not hiding much.

Cherri's thoughts played over this notion for a moment and then slowly her eyes found their way back to Drasil's.  She took a deep breath and felt her body and the sheets were soaked in her sweat.  She would need to bathe and change the linens.  

Releasing a long sigh Cherri spoke her voice soft and melodious.  "Are you okay?"  Cherri's eyes roamed briefly over the room and what the light allowed her to see, she saw bloodied bandages on the floor and Drasil's cloths scattered here and there.  Apparently he had taken a bath for when her eyes returned to him she noted no traces of dried blood.  Cherri's gaze went to the ceiling momentarily.  There were no scortch marks and no hint of chared wood.  He had stopped her just in time.

She owed him a thank, apology, and an explanation.

"Thank you for awaking me.  I was dreaming a dark dream and felt threatened.  I didn't know I was dreaming orelse I would not have attempted a spell.  I am sorry for any worry I may have caused you, tho..." her voice trailed off as her eyes swept pointedly back down Drasil body, her voice taking on a more huskier tone she continued "I can not say you are an unwelcomed sight."  A broad smile spread across her full lips and a sudden heat seemed to engulf her body sending a flush from her breasts to her cheecks staining them a soft pink.  

Noting Drasil'sstill partily damp hair Cherri figured he had just finished his bath.  "I believe I will need to take a bath as well now."  A mischevious grin parted her lush lips softly as she thought of just what she might have seen only if she had awoken on her own moments before.

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Cherri Rowandyn
Keep your friends close; keep your enemies closer.
Navar The Rogue Assassin
The Rogue Assassin
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Elf, Coór'hém


« Reply #3 on: November 06, 2006, 02:05:23 PM »

Navar, felt a strange pulling force as he wept, a pulling force that edged him on to keep struggling. Even though his father was more than he could bear he had managed to pull him to a grave sight, Sniff that dastard....he killed my daddy, and I wasn't strong enough to protect you....Im so sorry. Sniff And there in the moon light he began to dig his fathers grave by hand. I will advenge you father....one day.

I WILL Navar shot up and wiped a tear from his face, and looking down at his wet finger he thought, and here I thought I couldn't do that anymore....aparently Im not strong enough yet....why am I still so weak.

Navar stands slowly urg I feel worse no then after that fight with Drasil and I still have to.....crap what time is it, whirling around Navar noticed the sun set Good its SunDrown I still have time. Navar takes a step and is pulled back by a twinge in his leg Ow it still hurts....hm well I could Navar sits down and rummages through his pack and pulls out a pipe, and stuffing it with some Hash lights it and begins to smoke it.

Aw, he sighs as his body goes numb I hate using it but just once in this case, ok back to work. Navar stands and searches and is pleased to find his rum is untouched, ok time to get ready. Navar took and conected the outer peremeter of the alters with one ped high tall barriors, taking one bottle per alter he dowsed each one with a bottle of rum making sure to coat evenly. Navar the quivkly walked a few paces and created a pen sized circle with two more bottles of rum.

Hopping back over to the wooden structure Navar began to take shredded parts of his cloak and stuffed five bottles with the cloth, having only a bit of the fabric hanging out, turning the bottles up a few time soaked the clothe with the rum. placeing two in the bushed behind the structure one on his belt and hiding one in the center wooden stucture, he walked over, carrying two more bottles of rum, to the center of the alchol ring he had made.

Placing his stuff and the last two bottle on the ground he sat down and began to soak the cloth that he had wrapped around his arrows earlier, with rum. Having placed them back into his quiver he grabbed two stick and made make shift torches with the cloth of his old cloak and the rum. looking at hte bottle he though What the hell as quickly swigged down the last of the alchol.

And with two bottles of rum left one on his belt and one in his hand, both with soaked cloth sticking out,  Navar sat back and waited fo the fight that would be...most satisfying. throwing one torch towards the wooden structure said dreadifully, Coor Ill be sore once this hash wears off

There are those who KILL and those who are KILLED, guess which one YOU are.     ~Navar~

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Edited by: Navar The Rogue Assassin  at: 11/12/06 23:05
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There are those who KILL and those who are KILLED, guess which one YOU are.

      ~Navar~

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Rvahr the Hunter
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Human, Phthia R'mart Eyelian


« Reply #4 on: November 06, 2006, 07:25:23 PM »

R'vahr nearly runs into the closed door, catching a glimpse of a half clothed elf before the portal shuts on his face. This makes things difficult Quickly he feels the door, finding it sound and strong he sighs and bends low to look at the handle. Kak, kak, kak, kak He drones and murmurs in a worried tone.

There are several methods of locking a door, each was effective at its task. If he were to enter, the door was the wrong way to do it. With a sly smile, the hunter races to the stair case, and leaps onto the first floor. His eyes wildly search the room for his table, upon which rest his fangs. 'scuse me, miss, but urgent matters call. With such an apology, he grasps the two daggers and charges out into the desert air. His beautiful Nor'sidian self is lost to vision as the heavy door slams shut behind him.

His legs pounding, and excitement and adventure coursing through his veins, R'vahr churns to the side of the building, and glances up at the window he is sure belongs to the mage's quarters. Easy climb He mutters to himself, and twirls the Fangs on his fingers. His body tences, and his muscles grow taunt, slowly he lowers his center of gravity, and crouches close to the still hot sand. With a startlingly sudden burst, of the speed which might  suprise a jubat, he leaps into the air and towards the side of the building. His booted feet connect first, then his razor edged fanges find holding in the aged wood of the siding. If I can climb a kakin' tree without making a kakin' noise, I sure as hell can climb a building. So reassured, he silently pulls himself up, toward the small window.

Quietly, as he quickly ascends the wall, he prays that the window was not latched, he has no need to be breaking anything in order to get in. In only a moment, he is level with the glass pane, and filled with curiosity as to what a mage summoning "lightning" while fitfully sleeping might look like, takes a peep in. The vision which greets his nor'sidian eyes is quite unlike the one he had been expecting. Quite supple, eh? He remarks to himself upon witnessing the ample curve of the cleavage which he assumes must belong to the mage. Across her is that elf, who seems ready to get a bit of shock, if not from magic than from a certain other mysterious force. He sees nothing which might be cause for alarm, though he certainly did feel happy for the elf chap. While everything seemed safe enough, R'vahr felt it neccessary to assure himself as to the stability of the tavern's current situation. He knew he might be tempted to find solace in sexual fervor had he knowlege of a doomed future. With a quiet sigh, the R'unorian pulls open the window and slides into the room with a serpentine grace. I apologize for the intrusion, dearest fellows, and realize that my words may be unwelcome to such lovers in such positions as you now find yourselves, but I must query as to the current situation and ascertain that certain perils have been assuredly prevented? I was called to aid in a case of sleep..er... casting?

Swimming through waters of truth and sustinance, filled by tribulations and dark discordiance,
is a monster who cries tears of steel and an angel, who sceams symphonies.

-R'vahr, The Hunter in Darkness

Edited by: Rvahr the Hunter  at: 11/6/06 11:27
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There is a flavor to life, and I intend to taste it deeply.


-R'vahr, The Hunter in Darkness
Vesk Lyricahl
Woeful Rover
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Human, Eyelian


« Reply #5 on: November 07, 2006, 12:12:23 PM »

As iron forged, tested with endless trials, a lone figure emerged from the desert, a longbow seemingly crafted of darkness upon his back. A slight breeze tousled his windswept hair, stirring the sand around his boots, as dark eyes looked upon the tavern. His very mettle had been tested in the vast Rahaz-Dath as it sought his death, only to be denied time and time again. Not yet had the day come when he would reunite with his beloved Raelyn, for now he had another to live for, his sweet Nyssa. Ever would his lips curl into a soft smile upon remembering her gentle laughter or the ribbons she so gaily plaited in her hair. Yet tears would stream down his cheeks as he recalled her sou’cald blue eyes, the very eyes of her mother which had mesmerized him as a youth with their depths, and time ceased to exist as he would gaze into them.

A shrill cry uttered from the beak of a raptor returned him to the present moment, and Vesk replied in kind, one could scarcely distinguish one cry from the other. Breathless, taken aback by its beauty, he gazed upon the sky as it bled crimson, the sun beginning to descend into the Void. Softly the former Rover laughed to see the sky so, as if it had succumbed to despair as the darkness grew, soon to enshroud all in shadow. The sand was barely disturbed as he sauntered toward the tavern, leaving only the slightest of footprints, two falcons soaring high above, casting their shadows onto the sand below. With scarcely a sound, he opened the door to the tavern and stepped within, his boots light upon the floorboards.

The familiar scent of bloodshed assailed his senses as he gazed upon the bedlam the tavern had become, scowling to see blood on the walls and even more puddling upon the floor. Dark eyes widening in shock as memories of another time when blood stained the floor flooded his mind, Vesk fell to his knees, one hand grasping the hilt of his dagger, knuckles turning white, as tears descended to the wood below, each new drop seemingly suspended as time halted within his mind. Softly he called her name, “Raelyn, Raelyn, Raelyn . . . ,” as the memories took hold.

Her blood stained his trousers as he knelt in the crimson pool spreading around her prone form, gently cradling her head in his lap, his voice barely audible as he whispered of his love to her. Lovingly his fingers stroked her maroon tresses, his gaze lost within her azure eyes even now as they slowly dimmed, life itself fleeing from her body. With his strong arms wrapped around her, he held his wife as though he could keep her from passing beyond this world with the strength of his will and the love which burned as an inferno within his heart. Her own delicate, shapely arms held an infant to her breast, a smile upon the child’s face which was weakly mirrored on that of her mother. In this moment in time, there was no death, no sorrow to darken their lives, only a happy family made complete by its latest addition.

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Kali Rae
Raven Songbird
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Human, Kasumarii of the Korenjaan Order


« Reply #6 on: November 08, 2006, 05:12:23 AM »

Kali smiles as R'vhar speaks, is interrupted, addresses her question about the turtle, is interrupted again, begins to comment on his distaste for battle, and is finally, and terminally, interrupted by the gibberings of an elf.  The elf speaks of magic and danger to some other patrons and leads R'vhar off, up the stairs to the upper level of the tavern.  A more curious person may have followed, but Kali simply sits where she is and waits.  With most of the patrons gone, the tavern is strangely quiet.  Kali sits back in her chair and sets the fang she is holding back down on the table.  She then picks up her dagger and slips it back into the sheath at her belt, unties her cloak, and casts it off leaving it to drape on the back of her chair.  The back and underarms of her travelling clothes are damp with sweat as is her brow, and the relative coolness of the evening air comes as a relief.  She wipes her forehead with her sleeve and realizes that she is quite tired.

Kali watches as R'vhar comes flying down the stairs, races over to their table and snatches his fangs from the table.  'scuse me, miss, but urgent matters call.  And with that he dashes out the door.  A weary smile crosses Kali's lips as she watches the R'vhar's retreating form.  Feeling inconspicuous and, quite frankly exhausted, she slumps back in her chair and bows her head.  She relaxes as she begins to doze in her seat.

-- "It is the extraordinary people that we tell stories about, still, everyone has a story if you look hard enough." --

Kali Rae

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-- It is the extraordinary people that we tell stories about; still, everyone has a story if you look hard enough --

Kali Rae
Cherri Rowandyn
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Elf, Quaelhoirhim / Ylfferhim / Sanhorrhim


« Reply #7 on: November 12, 2006, 07:12:23 AM »

Cherri was throughly enjoying watching Drasil squirm a little under her incenuations.  Her fun was quickly ruined.  Her ears pricked as she vaguely heard a soft thud of boots landing upon the floor in their room.  Quickly she brought the sheets up around herself and the lower half of Drasil.  Her eyes quickly found the culprit by the window.  She entertained the idea of blowing him back out the very same window he had just entered but thought better of it.  He was only concerned for the safety of people.  He was not being rude on purpose.  

Cherri wondered to herself for a moment just how this man had come to know just what had been happening and the danger that she had unknowingly been placing everyone in.  

Resting her hand gently on Drasil's arm so as to try to keep him in place and not to go lunging at the invader Cherri tried to sort through the haze that had developed over her mind.

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Cherri Rowandyn
"Keep your friends close and your enemies closer"

Edited by: Lady Cherri at: 11/12/06 6:02
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Cherri Rowandyn
Keep your friends close; keep your enemies closer.
Navar The Rogue Assassin
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Elf, Coór'hém


« Reply #8 on: November 12, 2006, 02:17:23 PM »

Navar sat waiting for the sun to finally set and his much anticipated battle to begin. Losing patience and unable to fall asleep began to look aroung at the scenery "Coor that hash was good....I cant feel a thing....ahhhhh. Navar sighed. and with that he looked up at his window and noticed a man standing in it, Perhaps its Drasil....but no its not, who the hell barges into MY room.

Slowly rising Navar began to see little white dots in front of his face. Wow I wonder how I'd feel if I wasn't doped up on hash.. Knowing that he shouldn't be up, due to the fact that he had lost alot of blood earlier and needed rest, but his foolish pride lead him to be rather....upset with the fact of an uninvited stranger in his room.

Slowly making his way back to the tavern Navar crossed the Tavern and noticed a man in the center of the tavern on the floor. Fool must be insane...heh I guess not every one is lucky enough to keep their sanity. Walking to the stairs he finally makes it to his room.

What the hell, I come to beat a man for barging in my room but instead I find this. Glaring at Lady Cherri and Drasil in disgust. I expected something like this from that loser Drasil but you. I open my room so that you could heal that fool and you use it to skrew around in, I mean how hard would it have been to take a few steps and go to your own room. feeling rather angerd by this Navar loses his cool GET THE HELL OUT OF MY ROOM YOU NO GOOD HARLET AND TAKE YOUR PATHETIC DASTARD OF A BODY GAURD WITH...., the sudden increase in blood pressure was to much for Navar and all of assuden the room went black and Navar slumpped to the floor.

There are those who KILL and those who are KILLED, guess which one YOU are.     ~Navar~

need help with your character

Edited by: Navar The Rogue Assassin  at: 11/12/06 23:04
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There are those who KILL and those who are KILLED, guess which one YOU are.

      ~Navar~

need help with your character?
so orril miesefer
Sky Master
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Elf, Injerín Aellenrhim


« Reply #9 on: November 12, 2006, 04:03:23 PM »

Orril had falen asleep in that dark corner of his room... his dream had been quiet pleasant, the revenge over Navar, a good shock on him... but it had been just a dream...

All the sudden Navar shouts in front the room made him, Shadow and Storm awake, then the sound of someone falling flat over the floor. Fearing that Navar had killed someone Orril rose from his bed and moved to the door, just to see Navar's body uncounsious in the floor.

Oh my... I know I wish to see Navar death, but isn't a reason to kill him... Orril continues to walk over until he is close enough to see Cherri and Drasil on the bed, and R'vhar near the window. hmmm... so that's why he was so outraged... I don't blame him, yet he deserves this. Whispered for himself. Looking at navars body Orril noted that he was bleeding againExcuse me, can anyone lend me a piece of silk or fabric? This elf will die if we don't stop the bleeding. Though I wouldn't care a lot... he deserves that... Orril stood there, trying to stop the bleeding with his hands while waiting for the silk or fabric piece.

What's my magic? My treasure. What's my God? My freedom. My law? the strength and the wind. My mother country the sky So Orril Miés'éfer, Sky master.

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In this world the only thing that is always true is that everything changes, moves and tears apart, to latter return in a neverending dance inspired in the movement of wind. ~ So Orril Miés'éfer, Sky Tower Apprentice
Lorlessa Tamaana
Melodious Trader
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Maeverhim / Shendar Half-elf


« Reply #10 on: November 13, 2006, 12:25:23 AM »

When Lorlessa and Ivory finally made it back to the tavern, the sun was just beginning to set in the sky. The maiden slowed her horse from a gallop down to a walking pace as she headed towards the stable. She didn't bother getting the stable-hand, simply hopping off the back of her steed and ushering the animal inside the building. I must remember to bring her an apple, the half-elf thought as she walked back into the smoky building.

Looking around for a table with no occupants, she dug into her pack and made sure that she still had a few coins left. The ride she and her horse had been on had taken most of the day, and Lorlessa had not eaten since Firstflame. Humming a tune that had implanted itself in her mind, she made her way over to the closest empty table and sat down, waving the barmaid over.

-----
My CD:
Loressa Tamaana

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Thorgas Ironforge
Ironforge Pyromancer
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« Reply #11 on: November 15, 2006, 10:54:23 PM »

Thorgas woke up from his refreshng sleep by the sound of somebody's voice. He recognized it as the voice of the arrogant dark elf. Can't he keep his big mouth from shouting for atleast one day? The dwarf kept thinking. After a short time he decided that it was useless to just sit on the bed thinking all day; he hastily put on his pig-hide boots, drew on his moleskin cloak and went towards the source of the sound. Out of curiosity, he peeked inside the room and saw the golden haired elf trying to stop the bleeding on the dark elf. Feeling compassion for the wounded creature, he entered the room and tapped the elf timidly on the shoulder.
"I can stop the bleedin' long enough fer ya to find yar reagent.  I think I rested long enough, too."
Thorgas looked at the wound, which is still bleeding. He then rubbed his head, trying to remember the names of these people. After some futile attempts, he gave up and cleared his throat before speaking.
"Gold elf, may I see the wound?"

Behold... Admire... Fear... and Wonder. Witness the fire burning in me... Burning... To Avenge.

The Ironforge Pyromancer

Edited by: Thorgas Ironforge at: 11/15/06 15:09
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A weak mind is a deadly foe.
Thorgas Ironforge
Buri
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Callie Sornak
Lonely Child
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Human, Erpheronian


« Reply #12 on: November 16, 2006, 05:53:23 AM »

The small figure stumbled across the road, trying to seek shelter before it got too dark and too cold. It was clothed in a thin dress that had tears all over it. Her feet had the same type of cloth, though, with all the tears in them, one couldn't see much good in them.

Callie shivered from the cold as the sun drew closer to the horizen. She had not wanted to take this journey, but a man sort of forced her along with him...at least until she got away. She saw some lights ahead and headed towards those. As she got closer, she could hear several voices, most of them male. She shivered again, not from the cold, but from fear. Her brown eyes widened, but she knew that she had no other choice.

Her eyes darted from the door of the inn to the road. She knew that she would die out there if she continued walking, but she was too scared to enter into the building. Something caught her eye. Just beyond the inn, she saw a low building...the stable.

She gave a small smile as she realized that she could stay there. Looking around her, she made sure that there was no one watching before she darted to the stable. Once inside, she had a small coughing fit. Her lip re-opened, a wound she had recieved from the man, and a small stream of blood ran down her lips and chin.

Shivering, Callie looked around and found a blanket near one of the stalls. She took it and found a pile of hay where she could lay down on. She covered herself with the blanket and curled up upon the hay. Closing her eyes, her breathing became light as she drifted off to sleep. Her small form shivered, not from the cold, but from the images of the past that often haunted her dreams.  

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Kali Rae
Raven Songbird
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Human, Kasumarii of the Korenjaan Order


« Reply #13 on: November 16, 2006, 09:06:23 AM »

In her light doze, Kali's head swims with the events of the past months since she left Isthrius.  Life was so comfortable at home, R'vhar claims that many people live for the road but so far I do not find it to my liking.  R'vhar... quite an amazing man.  She imagines him in all his grace walking out the door and wonders briefly what he's doing now.  The sound of someone coming into the tavern makes her start but it is only Navar re-entering the Tavern.  He stares briefly at another man she hadn't previously been aware of and then continues up the stares.  Kali closes her eyes again, but only has several moments before there is a violent outburst from upstairs.

Kali sits up straight and scowls.  She turns and checks her pack to see that all her belongings are fastened and mutters bitterly to herself, "All I want is a little rest and some quiet.  Won't get any of that in this place it seems."  Her venomous thoughts catch her off guard and she realizes that she must be tired.  She glances out of the window and notices that the sun is sinking towards the horizon.  I'd do well to set up camp nearby before it gets too dark to see.  I can always buy some food and eat out of doors, that would keep me out of the tavern anyhow.  She has one fleeting thought of R'vhar and with effort, hoists her bag onto her shoulders and arranges her cloak about her.

As Kali is leaving she passes a young woman coming into the tavern and thinks briefly about telling her that she ought to avoid the place but, as usual, her tongue is held.  She walks past the madman on the floor and out the door.  The cooling world feels soothing as an evening breeze wraps itself around her arms and she looks for a place to set up her tent.

Before long she realizes that it's going to be very dark soon and it would be a good idea to find wood for a fire, and maybe a torch.  A thought briefly flies through her mind suggesting that she ask someone in the tavern but it is quickly quelled.  Why go through all that trouble when I can probably just as easily find some?, Kali thinks.  Unable to see a woodshed from where she is standing she walks over to the stable and peers inside.  Already the outside light does a very poor job of illuminating the interior so she pushes open the door the rest of the way and steps inside.

It takes Kali's eyes several moments to adjust to the dimly lit stable.  She notices a couple horses in stalls absently munching away at some hay and makes an effort to avoid them.  Her nose starts to prickle as the hay dust enters her sinuses with every breath but she quells the sneeze.  She starts to rummage expertly arond the vacant stalls and finds little of use to her, but eventually her explorations take her to a small pile of hay topped with a quilted horse blanket.  More out of habit then hopefulness Kali draws back the quilt, stirring up more hay dust in doing so.  Unable to hold it back any longer she gives in to a short and repressed fit of sneezing.  She sniffs back mucus and wipes her nose on her sleeve and then looks down to the pile of hay from where she had pulled the blanket.  She was surprised to be looking down at the form of a small child dressed in little more then rags.

-- "It is the extraordinary people that we tell stories about, still, everyone has a story if you look hard enough." --

Kali Rae

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-- It is the extraordinary people that we tell stories about; still, everyone has a story if you look hard enough --

Kali Rae
Callie Sornak
Lonely Child
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Gender: Female
Posts: 51


Human, Erpheronian


« Reply #14 on: November 16, 2006, 09:42:23 AM »

In the back of her mind, Callie could hear someone enter the stable, but she was too exhausted to do anything about it. If they woke her up and did something awful to her, then so be it. She continued to slumber on peacefully.

Suddenly, she felt the cold air of the night upon her as the blanket was taken off. She snapped open her eyes and looked. There was a woman standing above her hay bed, holding her blanket. Giving something between a whimper and a cry, Callie pushed away from the woman, pressing her small form against the wall.

Her large brown eyes began to fill with tears. The woman looked nice, but...with her dark hair and her dark eyes contrasting with the pale skin of her face, it was almost a scary sight for the poor child.  

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