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| Viewing Single Post From: So Far From Home | |
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| MidnightShadow | May 4 2008, 08:45 PM |
If she were warm and fuzzy she'd be a kitten
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Now, whether Shadow would have come alone or not was debateable. The shapeshifter, having a little too much confidence in herself and being a tad too headstrong, felt she was entirely capable of taking over an island on her own. It was logic and rational reason, however, that would never allow her attempt such a thing. Shadow was also one who, when interested in accomplishing a goal, would go to great lengths to ensure that her plan, whatever it was, was as close to being flawless as possible in order to achieve a favourable end. If she wanted something, hell and high water would have to stop her before she backed down. "Heh. Esteem. Speak to some of the citizens of Soare or Esiria. They do not hold us in high esteem." She paused. "I'm also sure there will be others." She expected that other deities would, in time, visit Angkar and some - Raziel, to name one - would endeavour to conquer the place. Conquest was a form of power, and if there was something those of a darker nature yearned for, it was power. The two of them entered the palace shortly after the goddess had left her mare. Her eyes scanned the walls, the floor, the ceiling; they strayed to the guards that flanked them until there were no more. She walked in silence with the king, hardly caring for his status or what he stood for - and that wasn't the deity within her speaking, either. Had she been a lowly commoner and he her lord, she still would have spat at his feet and spoken impudently. And although she hardly knew who her mother was, she knew that that was exactly where that trait had come from. Her father had been passive and her mother... Well... Fiesty, to say the least. Shadow glanced towards Razarod as he introduced himself. The name rung no bells in her head. Yet he said they had met. Not during the Migration... That wasn't too long ago. Six years ago I was twelve and I was... No, she couldn't recall ever meeting a man named Razarod. "Really, now?" the fighter asked quietly, her fingers flicking to her daggers absently. She took comfort in touching her weapons; she would sooner have slept with them than without. "Unfortunately I have not met a Razarod, and although you do bear resemblance to someone I vaguely remember... No, I don't believe I know you. Or, if I did, I don't any longer." She kept her emerald gaze forward as she spoke, her eyes still absorbing her setting. That explains the feeling of familiarity... Yet, she still had no recollection. Then again, so many things had happened in the past three or four years that she could hardly be expected to. Although Razarod may have taken her to be the same person, she certainly wasn't. Not anymore, anyway. And he, clearly, wasn't either. |
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