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Welcome to Elenlond, an original medieval fantasy roleplaying forum! We strive for creative, free-form roleplaying, in the hopes of allowing each and every single member the power to achieve their potential.
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| Welcome to Elenlond, an original medieval fantasy forum! We're always looking for new, dedicated members. Elenlond is composed of two continents: Soare and Esiria. Esiria, a land now isolated due to the efforts of the last remaining Goddess, is inaccessible to all beings and lies in the east. Soare, a continent in the west, is composed of three distinct nations: Ashoka, Soto, and Morrim. Lying between the two major continents are the Scattered Isles. Since the dissolution of the pantheon and the fall of the gods, these countries have existed in relative peace and prosperity. But how long will that peace last? Enter Elenlond; Turn the pages and tell your own tale. If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
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| Festival of Life | |
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| Topic Started: Feb 27 2009, 07:36 PM (632 Views) | |
| Isra Amiel | Feb 27 2009, 07:36 PM Post #1 |
Her Imperial Majesty, the Grand Empress of Morrim
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It was a clear, blue day, not a cloud in the sky. The sun glistened off of the worn golden masks of various residents. A fountain of crystal water sparkled, tiny shards of glitter raining on the children of various races, so enthralled and excited by the festivities surrounding them. They had been waiting many long, long weeks for this day to come. People gathered in mass, just before the palace steps which had been donned with ivy, huge exotic blossoms, and sheers and tapestries of blue, white, and gold, drifting elegantly in unison to the rhythm of the breeze. White chariots carrying beautiful women adorned with feathers and robes amongst domesticated beasts riddled the crowds, along with jesters, jugglers, artists, poets, and dancers. They all came before the palace, awaiting a sign from their hostess. She came, ushered by the blaze of trumpets and harps. The colossal doors of the palace cracked, crushing the ground beneath its massive slabs, sending a powerful rumble through the land. As they stretched further and further apart, the figure gradually became more apparent, as well as the small private army of soldiers and councilmen at her sides. She herself, as always, was radiant, dressed in intricate white and gold fashions, a plume of swan's soft feathers in her dark locks. Her feet were to not touch the ground as the platform she stood upon was delicately raised by four men. The train of her dress fell so long that even lifted, it caressed the ground. One foot forward, the next just behind, she was carried forward to the beginning of the steps, and even as the soldiers shifted, the Empress remained gracefully still. It was a heavenly scene, lit by the glow of temperance and peace. Atop the world, the Empress extended her arms to her people with a serene smile. The horns and strings subsided just to hear her speak one sentence: "The Festival of Life has begun!" A booming cheer erupted from this small place on the face of the world. Music exploded from the instruments of Morrim, sending a wave of festivities through the bones of every present citizen. Dancers came rolling through with ribbons and bells. Riders on the backs of strange creatures lifted children onto their shoulders. Little could taint this tradition... Even the most evil of villains must catch this spirit and cheer. |
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| Deleted User | Feb 27 2009, 10:13 PM Post #2 |
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Brin was waiting within the back of the crowd for the Empress to make her entrance. Crossing his arms and having his spear strapped diagonally across his back with the tip covered, he brushed a few bangs of honey wheat-colored hair from his eyes as he gazed upon the Empress herself, although from the distance he was at, he'd hardly be able to discern much of her appearance-wise. He wasn't completely focused on her at the moment anyway; he was more interested in two things: the first was that his father was nowhere in sight, which gave him some leighway in terms of what he could do. This caused a mischievous grin to slowly creep across his face. If his arms weren't crossed, he'd be rubbing them together as a physical action for the wheels turning in his head. The second thing didn't really interest him, but more so annoyed the living stars out of him. One of the townsmen, an overzealous one apparently, screamed about as loud and as high-pitched as small girl having her fingernail slowly removed by shoving a thin blade underneath the nail. Brin's grin quickly shirked into an annoyed gritting of teeth, and while he began to speak an incantation of fire while preparing to extend an arm (more so for the simple threat of lighting the man on fire versus actually flinging a fireball in the man's direction...that's all he needed at this point), something broke his attention. The wafting of a heavy scent flicked across Brin's nostrils, making him pause and break the incantation as his annoyance melted into curiosity and want; what was that smell? His nose turned his head in a direction, seeing a vendor selling some sort of meat on a stick. His body began to involuntarily sift through the crowd toward the vendor, bumping into people as he passed. Sometimes he'd bump into a woman around his age and wink, while other times he'd bump into a man around his age and flick a cocky smirk in their direction; the gods only know what goes through Brin's mind half the time. Possibly making some enemies as his sifting through the crowd turned into a bit more like shoving, he finally arrived at the vendor's stand, digging into a small purse at his hip, fondling a few pieces before asking, "How much?" The vendor, not even looking up at Brin from his meticulous preparation skills held up two fingers. The price was reasonable, and while Brin could've given the vendor crap, he pulled out two pieces, one resting between his forefinger and middle, and the other resting between his middle and his ring finger. "Done." The vendor finally made eye contact, offering a kabob with skewered meat along with a colorful medley of vegetables, as Brin grabbed the one end of the wooden skewer while loosening his fingers, dropping the two pieces into the man's outstretched hand. Both Brin and the vendor smiled, and Brin turned and brought the skewer to his mouth, tugging at a piece of seared animal flesh as his teal eyes scanned the crowd idly. |
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| Isra Amiel | Feb 28 2009, 02:35 PM Post #3 |
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Her Imperial Majesty, the Grand Empress of Morrim
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Looking out across her city, she couldn't find a face that wasn't having a good time. There had been enough time devoted to observation. It was time to join the fray, regardless of her security's alternate preferences. "It's a festival," she glanced over her bare shoulder at the more decorated soldier amongst the party. "What kind of ruler would I be if I were so disconnected from my people as to not have some fun as well." Her smile could melt butter, so it certainly eased the captain. "Don't worry. You'll be there to protect me, won't you?" "Of course, Your Grace. Where would you like me to escort you?" he bowed his head out of respect and held an arm out to the city. "Hmm," she brought a hand to her face to idly touch her lips in thought. "Where did Godfrey run off to?" That was all it took for four men to dissipate into the crowd. Isra hadn't meant to order such a thing. Brin ought not to be bothered if he's having fun where he is. Regardless, she was amused, and laughed with a flighty wave of her hand. Wherever he was, she didn't plan on taking too much of his time. At that moment, and arrow whizzed past the shoulder of a stationary guard. The captain plucked a rolled slip of paper off and read, "He is located near the Shish Kabob stand." The Empress blinked, startled by the efficiency of the hunt she had accidentally ordered, "Really, was the arrow necessary?" Alas, after witnessing the captain's bewildered face, as if he were now questioning his ability as the personal guard, Isra waved her hand once more in dismissal of the subject. "What would you like to do?" "Me?" "I am staring straight at you, yes." "Well... since you asked, My Lady... I was hoping I could purchase some rare toys for my children." "Henceforth, it's on our schedule," Isra smiled once again, that same smile that would cover one's soul with a warm blanket. The royal party descended down the staircase. Maidens with flower petals littered the Empress's pathway as she made her way through the crowd. The crowd itself continually crept closer and closer to her, all wanting to bathe in the presence of something they thought to be greater than themselves. Children would toss her flowers, all of which she took and placed on herself, some in her hair, some along the top hem of her dress. All must be acknowledged, especially the little ones. This was their day too, after all, a country-wide celebration of the act of simply being. "Ah! There you are!" she exclaimed when they finally reached the other side of the main festivities. "I must say, your cheeks stuffed with meat is not your most attractive look, Brin. How are you today?" The entourage enveloped the stand, unfortunately blocking off business for the stall's owner for the time being. |
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| MidnightShadow | Feb 28 2009, 11:04 PM Post #4 |
If she were warm and fuzzy she'd be a kitten
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((This is just my way of introducing Shadow. =) Feel free to interact with her, feel free to ignore her - I can't guarantee you'll get a post back immediately, so it's up to your own discretion. This just gives me a reason to have her involved.)) It was such a beautiful day for a festival. Having entered the city only a day earlier, Shadow was quite comfortable with her arms resting against the windowsill as she overlooked the festivities below. There was wild cheering, music, dancing, and a hoard of people that would make even the most seasoned courtiers raise their eyebrows. Of course, Shadow was content to linger within her room in the inn, quite uninterested in venturing below, where the massive throngs of people made her cringe just a little bit inside. Her eyes, however, absorbed the scene, taking it all in. Her emerald orbs were eventually drawn to the sudden appearance of the Empress. She was a regal figure - far more regal than any of the deities had ever been, she thought bemusedly. The shapeshifter was merely passing through, meandering across the lands collectively named Soare. She had spent much time in Angkar and, with the last remnants of the power that had allowed her to join the ranks of the Fallen having fled her body, she had decided to explore Soare and its cultures as they were, not as they had been under the rule of the gods. There were still traces of their influence, but they were minimal. Kinaldi had been Shadow's first stop within the nation calling itself Morrim, and indeed her first place of interest, bypassing Soto altogether after she had visited the Sedokai Ocean. It had just so happened that she had arrived during the Empress's festival. And, speaking of such a woman, she was now wandering through the crowds. Shadow's eyes followed her silently until, surprisingly, the monarch stopped below the very window where Shadow was perched. Her entire procession followed her, along with the peasants, nobles, and the others belonging to her 'entourage'. Was she interested in the meat seller just outside the window, monopolizing the time and money of those foreigners who happened to leave the inn, curious as to what was going on? No, that couldn't be it. She was an Empress for crying out loud. It was just too unlikely. And what of the youth below? Perhaps that was where her interest was focused... Now mildly intrigued, Shadow extracted herself from the window, closed the shutters, and pulled on every single weapon she owned - eight daggers lining the belt around her waist, and a bastard sword perched comfortably on her back. These, of course, would not be used against the Empress, nor anybody below unless they happened to provoke her, but she felt more comfortable having them on her person than not. Besides, she didn't trust others enough to not have them stolen. As she passed, the innkeeper arched an eyebrow but said nothing. The inn was, strangely, quiet, but that was probably a good thing - that meant everyone had departed in the hopes of becoming involved with the festivities. The fighter stepped across the threshold separating quiet, calm, serene, into chaotic, loud, and rambunctious. She arrived several feet away from the boy, the monarch, her guards, and the people. Staying well out of the limelight - she didn't need nor want to get involved at just this moment - she was content to watch. Dressed in her usual garb - a short-sleeved dark tunic, light blue breeches, her leather boots, and her six brown leather belts, she appeared threatening, although that was certainly not her intent. Shadow leaned against the brick wall of the inn, arms folded casually across her chest. She was content to continue absorbing all that she could. Edited by MidnightShadow, Feb 28 2009, 11:05 PM.
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| Deleted User | Mar 1 2009, 12:10 PM Post #5 |
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Deleted User
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Brin, chewing on the kabob, was not looking directly into the crowd when the Empress and her entourage came through. In the moment before the Empress's entrance, he was looking to another vendor, finding his nose to be one pulling the strings of the body today. Some training in the early morning left Brin forgetting about food for a bit, and now that all of the smells and the energy of the festivity were upon him, his stomach too was coming to life. This all came to a dead stop as he turned, seeing the Empress....and the guards. Every ounce of Brin froze. The kabob was close to his mouth as he had just bit down on what looked and tasted like some sort of pheasant; the meat neatly tucked away in the left cheek of his mouth at this point, his lips slightly gleaming from whatever moisture and marinade was on the meat. Brin's teal eyes immediately met Isha's, stopping for a moment to reflect upon how beautiful the Empress actually was. Had the situation been different, Brin might've actually tried to hit on Isha. Instead, Brin's eyes held a bit of fear behind them; as a child who did something wrong and was being confronted by his or her mother. Those same teal eyes darted around to give the guards a quick one-over as Brin licked his lips and lowered the kabob slightly as his manners suddenly kicked back in. Stars and stones, it was Empress; if he was going to lie to someone, it sure as hell wasn't going to be her. Brin sighed, the fear from his face slightly melting as he started to protest his case, even though the Empress herself had offered her hospitality and kindness in her warm greeting. "Empress." He bowed his head slightly in respect, something that he only did to his father if he knew he was going to be on his death bed soon. He immediately raised his head, looking more defiant, justified; his eyes were not as wide with fear anymore, but slightly narrowed with conviction. "I don't know what you heard, but those boys had it coming. Getting blown away by some wind was a kindness; I should've hit the bigger one with a fireball outright for acting how he did." The Empress would probably confused after Brin's speech, but just other day some child was being picked on few others and Brin just happened to see the situation unfurling in the street before him. Brin's annoying chivalry kicked in and he protected a younger female while he gave the three of four other young kids a good kick in the arse with a blunted spell of wind. One of the boys even received a very shallow slice to the face from some debris that caused a gentle drop of crimson to emerge from his cheek. That enough sent the children running, while Brin helped the small female up. If the Empress hadn't already heard and showed some confusion on her facial expressions, Brin would give the short and dirty version He had a not-so-clean track record in the city of Kinaldi that some people knew about; most likely the Empress knew of his past 'aggressions' of teenage rebellion, if they could even be called such. He was a bold young man, staring Isha in the face. It wasn't a stare of dominance, but rather a stare of justified and contented resolve, as if his eyes were matching the words that exited from his lips. If he was going to get hauled off by some guards, he was going to at least let someone know that he was innocent in the matter. He didn't mind the thought of being hauled off, but the fact that someone thought less of him. He wasn't looking for anyone's approval in his actions; he merely wanted someone to know that what he did was well within what those boys deserved; to get the droppings scared out of them so they'd learn a lesson. He watched the Empress, waiting for her reaction on the whole thing. There wasn't much else he could do in the present situation. |
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| Isra Amiel | Mar 1 2009, 05:10 PM Post #6 |
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Her Imperial Majesty, the Grand Empress of Morrim
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((For someone who knows her well, he's getting her name wrong a lot XD. It's Isra, not Isha. Close! Aaaand sorry my posts are short.)) It could not be helped, the lure of watching Her Majesty. Many had stopped just to listen, feeling as if this may be the closest to her they may be able to become. Who could possibly be surprised? She was a vision of elegance, and meant much more to all of her people than a one-dimensional monarch. Brin should feel as if he were the most important person in the world to have her attention, the mother of them all. Her reaction was not one of confusion or anger, but instead his words made her smile to the point of laughing near the end of his tirade. The Empress placed her hand on his unswollen cheek, a warm and gentle touch made for a child after scraping their knee. "Relax. No one is being judged today. Eat your meat without guilt. I imagine it will taste much better." The hand fell, a bitter cold taking its place. With it, she instead smoothed over the ruffles on her intricate white gown. "No, I simply came over to see how you are enjoying yourself, and perhaps ask if you would like to escort me. I believe we are heading towards the toy stalls to see if the captain here would like to purchase anything for his children." She had heard of his escapades. She heard all, for what else was there to do, cooped up in a palace all day, but listen to the stories of tales beyond the walls? And, while violence was the lesser ideal solution to that particular instance, Kinaldi would not become another Orl'Kabbar. It starts when they're young. Best to correct such things quickly. |
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| Deleted User | Mar 3 2009, 09:06 AM Post #7 |
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((Ah crap! Sorry about that -_-'' *chants incessantly* Isra, Isra, Isra...lol)) Brin misjudged the meeting, therefore completely ignoring the honor that was bestowed upon him to be approached out of such a large crowd by the Empress herself. He thought that his final act of defiance had warranted the Empress and her personal guards herself, thusly he reacted in such a manner. After he was finished, he watched her expression, the focus in his eyes burning out almost entirely as he blinked, watching her hand extend to his face. Brin's cheeks flushed lightly but visibly from the touch; he didn't fare well with women in general, but the Empress herself? It was likely that he was going to forget some of his general motor skills, like breathing. The cold that replaced the absence of her touch almost made Brin frown, but he controlled his emotions enough not to let his facial features expose themselves. As he listened to her and watched her a bit more intently now, his mouth began to chew the piece of meat that he had tucked in his cheek before speaking his peace. His father would have given him a good one had he realized that he even spoke to the Empress with something in his mouth let alone show some sort of defiance in front of her. As he chewed the meat and listened to her speak, he swallowed hard, his eyes widening as he were nearly choking. The meat did not go down so gently mainly because Brin had been taken by surprise by the Empress and what she said. "Me? Escort you?" Brin had paused, as if confused and looking for an explanation, but he quickly rebounded from his befuddled look, smiling softly; sure, he was somewhat rebellious and rude, but he had some manners. "Well, yeah, I-" He coughed slightly, creating a fist with his free hand to cover his mouth. "I mean, yes, of course I will escort you, Empress." He gave her a slight bow of his head in respect. The tension in his eyes and his body melted away, probably noticeable to everyone around. He was glad that he wasn't going to have to count on his father or his brother to bail him out of manacles or something, but it turned out the situation was just the opposite; cruising the scene with the Empress herself, guards in tow. Brin couldn't help but feel a little special at this point, his smile stretching a little wider than its original width. He then answered her original "I'm doing well today...everyone's cheery, the food is good, and I'm not in trouble. A good day." A small grin played across his face after he was done speaking, almost mischievous in nature. Brin was known to follow his conscious, and regardless if he meant well, his actions on the surface didn't always seem that way. "How about you, Empress? You must be cheerful at the least, being able to stretch your legs and all." Brin was pretty sure that being the top dog came with a lot of responsibilities; responsibilities that kept one indoors and closed away from everyone else. The Empress was someone of great importance as well, and Brin assumed that the guards didn't let her out of their sights for very long, which Brin could never imagine dealing with. His freedom of movement was one of the things that kept him from turning on those around him; sometimes he just needed to walk around to make himself feel better. And while he kept his thoughts to himself, he tried to do the same for his eyes. The Empress was definitely easy on the eyes; easy enough that someone could stare for years. Brin was merely human; a young man at that. His eyes did not betray his thoughts, and he played the innocent card well enough, but his thoughts were less than pure. The smells, sights, and sounds of the festivities distracted his hormones long enough to behave like he should, besides the fact that it was the friggin' Empress and if he valued his life, he'd keep himself in check. |
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| Deleted User | Mar 3 2009, 10:43 PM Post #8 |
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"Don't try and steal the show, you'll get yourself in trouble." A well dressed guard standing next to Andronicus said. "Try not be a show off as well, the royalty hates that as well." "I'm aware on how to handle court politics." Andronicus said slightly annoyed. "Just leave the showing off to me, and watch my back like your supposed to." The two well dressed men watched the Empress as she moved down the street. They smiled and clapped hands as she passed, then made off to enjoy their own business in the festival. Andron or Andronicus the son of the Archduke loved these type of occasions to show off his skills in combat. And that was exactly what he was going to do. Andron moved through the busy streets, weaving in and out of crowds and occasionally waving to some one who called out his name. After a few moments Andron and his guard arrived at a large roped off rectangular area, a jousting list. Stands had been erected for the more wealthy members of the Morrim nobility. Several stables were filled with horses and men getting ready for the competition. Andron made his way over to the stall where his horse was kept. He looked at his aides. "Is everything ready?" He asked. One of the aides nodded. "Your steed is in fine shape, and your armor is polished so well you can see your reflection in it." Andron smiled. "Good when do we begin then?" he asked getting pumped for the tournament. "I believe the jousting tournament begins when the Empress arrives." One of the aides replied. "Great." Andron said sarcastically. "Now we just haft to sit around with a bunch of other restless knights and nobles ready to fight and wait for the go ahead." "It could be worse, you could be in the pit or back at home with your father." His guard replied. Andron smirked to himself. "Yeah my father is still bitter over the defeat of Adana, and that was almost 30 years ago. I can't say I blame him for never showing up." "Well he has a very talented son who can take his place in these events. Liaison, tourney participant, diplomat, you do so much." "Try not to flatter me, it won't work today." Andron said back to the guard. "Yes Sir!" The guard replied quickly. Andron moved over to his equipment and picked up his longsword. He drew it from its sheath, and inspected the blade carefully looking for imperfection or dullness to the blade. Everything had to looked good and be perfect, his armor needed to be clean, his weapons sharp, his delivery of victory smooth and effortless. He only needed for things to begin. |
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| Isra Amiel | Mar 4 2009, 01:40 PM Post #9 |
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Her Imperial Majesty, the Grand Empress of Morrim
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When he agreed to her proposition, Isra delicately would her arm into the crease of his, maintaining her perfect posture as she did. Head held high, she cast a glance out on her empire with a subtle smile playing at her lips. "Captain," she cast a glance over her shoulder. "Dismiss the entourage, all but yourself. Have the aerial soldiers keep an eye out instead. It will be extremely difficult to move around with so many people in toe." The captain bowed upon her request, turned, and gave a signal to the dozen or so other men. From her footmen's perspective, working for the Empress was a cushy job. Nobody in the world wanted to kill her - it was beyond them why someone would do such a thing - so she would often let them go home early. The archers on the other hand, they always had to stay, arrows always at the ready for something they were sure would never happen. Isra turned her sights back to her new companion, gripping the skirt of her dress and lifting it just enough to now trip over the hemming. She glanced down to see what she was doing. "Ah, yes. I am quite cheerful. I'm afraid I may acquire a case of agoraphobia in the years to come if I continue to waste away in the palace. I think perhaps in a little while, a royal visit to our neighbors may be in order," she chirped, her sentence ending in a slight laugh, attempting to make it obvious she was only joking. She really wasn't. If someone walked up to her one day with all of the credentials and told her they would take her place, she might just do it, if only at least for a little while. Never having the ability to be one's self was a very taxing chore. Her father would say 'it's not a chore', if he were here. He'd say, 'what you have is a gift most dare not even dream of.' A gift. Yes, of course. A double-bladed sword. Almost nothing could dash her spirits like her current train of thought, so she quickly picked her head back up, hopefully before anyone could catch a glimpse of that distant and weathered look in her eyes. "Come, let's move on. We are obstructing this wonderful man's business," she nodded to the vendor, who obtained that wide-eyed look for a moment, only to lower himself in a bow so close to the ground, he could not be seen over his stall, as if he'd ducked away from her. But the Empress just laughed a little more, then sought out a new path to walk along. "So I know you don't stay out of trouble for long. Tell me a story. What kind of valiance have you indulged upon recently?" Best keep the conversation on him, far away from herself. Brin - she'd always know him as the same kid she first laid eyes on. Because of this, she felt a sort of harmlessness from him, and it gave her comfort. To know the things he creatively thought of her, Isra probably wouldn't know what to do. |
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| Sphynx | Mar 4 2009, 10:51 PM Post #10 |
All-Knowing Mod of Elly
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The ride across the Kaadian Way had been, for the most part, pleasant, if anything ever was pleasant to Sphynx. She had been heading back to Soare for several days now, hoping to get back to her quaint little shack and seclude herself from the rest of the world once again. Unfortunately she had run into some rather disagreeable people on the way and was looking forward to some peace and quiet. The only reason she had left in the first place was to collect ingredients for various experiments from across the realm; things that she couldn’t find in her forest. All she had left was to cross Morrim and her forest would be in view again. Little did she know that the day she happened to be traveling through Kinaldi also happened to be the day that the Empress was hosting her Festival of Life. Before the city was even in view the sounds of the celebration could be heard. The dark black stallion that she was riding slowed his step, tossing his head in annoyance. Sphynx herself sighed heavily, though she wasn’t entirely disappointed at the prospect of another being giving her a reason to withdraw her daggers. She dismounted from the stallion, took the small haversack from his back and slung the long strap over her own shoulder. Taking a brief moment to disassemble his reigns, the only piece of tack that the horse wore, she quickly stuffed that into her bag as well. “See you later.” The horse gave a small jump off of his front hooves, showing his gratitude for not having to enter the city. She knew that the rest of the way she could make just fine on her own, though she was still disappointed at the thought of having to walk the rest of the way as she watched the stallion gallop away. She knew that it was never a good idea to bring such a large creature into such busy streets, though it was only her own neck and Dark’s that she was worried about. She wouldn’t have even noticed if he had trampled anyone in his haste to pass through the city. Slowly she picked up her trek once again; her expression growing more and more disgusted the close she got. Apparently the party had spilled outside of the city gates; people were laughing, dancing, shouting, singing, and generally making fools of themselves. She quickened her pace, hoping to just get through this swiftly and all the while cursing her bad timing. To make matters worse it was a very clear day; the sun was shining and even the birds seemed to be joining in on the celebration. Sphynx pushed her way past the crowds and through the gates into the city, using her elbows all the while. A few people shouted at her for shoving them so rudely out of the way; she barely even took notice of them. People were everywhere. It was beginning to make her feel sick just watching them all and feeling them press against her as she merely tried to get through. For one split second there seemed to be a break in the crowd and she darted through, finding herself in a quieter side street that seemed to lead to one of the poorer parts of the city. There were fewer people down this way, as it led away from the main square, but it seemed it would be impossible to find a completely empty street today. |
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| Deleted User | Mar 5 2009, 09:23 AM Post #11 |
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As the Empress slipped her arm underneath Brin's to latch onto his, his cheeks flushed lightly at the action, and although his first action, from the touch of a female, would be to retract, he simply allowed the action, though tensing up, if only for a second. He released the slight buildup of tension as he saw the Empress hadn't made the embrace anything but a simple polite gesture, and Brin decided to just go with it. He had been staring forward at first, but allowed his eyes to wander over to her, wearing just a hint of a sheepish grin which quickly faded into a normal smile when he realized how ridiculous he might look. Brin watched the Empress for a moment as she gave a command, his head turning slightly to watch the rest of the guards disperse. He almost felt like giving a mocking smile and saying something along the lines of 'Suckers' but decided not to. He had been heckled by a few guards on more than one occasion. Sure, he had it coming and if he had been a little more mature and in that position, he would have understood that they were simply doing their job. His attention turned back to the Empress who was looking down at her dress. He listened to her speak and smiled when she ended her sentence with that slight laugh, though for a split second, he thought he saw something in her eyes that seemed familiar; something that he had seen in his own. The familiarity made him feel somewhat uncomfortable, as his teal eyes darting around the immediate area, although not to focus on anything physical, but more so to lock onto some thoughts on how to bring up a more peppy conversation. The Empress recovered beautifully, striking up a conversation as Brin exhaled ever-so-slightly, having not put any concentration into anything that much ever since one of his fireballs singed his eyebrows right off of his face during a unfocused casting. Brin smirked as he looked over at the Empress, his teal eyes reflecting a slight bit of sarcasm that could be construed in his smirk. "Is that what they call getting in trouble these days? Valiance? If you spoke to my father, valiance is when you look into the eyes of the men that you bring down." Although his tone trailed off to be slightly bitter after speaking about his father's views, he tried to keep the same facial expression while continuing speaking. "I don't think I'm valiant...I just do what I know should be done. Like those kids picking on that smaller kid? There's no law that says you can't pick on someone, but when you're young, things affect you more than you realize." He paused for a moment, his smirk finally fading as he looked down at the ground and watched his feet step upon the earth. His eyes became somewhat blank, idly staring. He quickly looked back up, smiling, exhaling in confidence as his chest seemed to protrude in front of him a bit more than before, his body language showing a slight change. "I just do what I feel is right. My actions don't seem too valiant and may not be completely legal, but doing the right thing isn't always the legal thing to do-or the easiest." Again, his full-blown grin appeared as he gave the Empress a very slight nudge with his shoulder, one that would only draw attention to the action and not actually move the Empress from her path of walking. "Plus, its kind of fun to blow someone away. Y'know, give them a taste of their own medicine." Brin genuinely enjoyed throwing those kids around, even if it was because his pain in the arse chivalry would not allow him to do anything but protect the small female in trouble. "What about you?" He turned his attention toward her as they walked along, looking over at her. "What would you do? Would you watch and wait for the law to do something, or would do what you know you should do?" Brin sort of imagined that the Empress would fall on the side of the law, being that she is the Empress and all, but now he was sort of curious what someone in her position thought about the matter. Regardless of how right and how strong Brin felt in his actions, his thoughts were clouded and doubt lingered in his mind; possibly from his upbringing, but also because of what other people thought of him. Now that he had the Empress to himself, he was interested to know a bit more about her and what she thought. |
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| Andromalius | Mar 5 2009, 12:33 PM Post #12 |
King of the Sexy Guys
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Almost at the exact moment the misplaced Necromancer passed a panel of wall marking the end of the alley, the body of a young boy sailed through the air with a comet of purple glow trailing after him. His back slammed against the ancient bricks and slowly, he crumbled to the ground, eyes closed, unmoving. He sat like a lump of wheat in a notably uncomfortable position. Was he dead? No, his chest rose and fell at a shallow pace. Only unconscious. From the other side of that alley, now tainted by violence, a very tall and lanky, robes figure turned the corner, staring down at his devastation. Long crystal locks of white played against the breeze, falling around his shoulders. A pair of sharp, uninviting eyes stared out through the golden mask of a cherub, a face so innocent and pure, save the pair of holes seething with malice. The robes were white, simple, with no designs, made of cotton, the hemming of which was the same gold as the mask. A deer in the headlights, the new figure shot a glance around, seeing the people dotting the street. Some stared in horror at such an act during a city-wide party. Some flew as fast as they could away from the scene, wanting nothing to do with it. "Self-defense," the figure explained, the eyes in the mask melting instantly into a harmless expression, losing all of its hate and anger with the mere thought to do so. He shrugged, holding his palms up as if he couldn't be blamed for this man's stupidity. The remaining people accepted the explanation for the same reason the first few fled. They wanted no part of this. As they turned to continue the festivities, a lull fell over the area, as something so random and terrible could not be forgotten so easily here in Kinaldi. He stalked towards his pray, the same sharp eyes replacing the previous look of innocence. When he arrived, he spared the Necromancer a quick glance before weaving his fingers into the unconscious kid's mane, tearing his head back to inspect the damage. Killing someone publicly would be very bad for his plans, particularly in a key city. When he was satisfied, he released his vice grip, but couldn't resist nudging the body with his boot in order to make him tip over and fall on his face. He did so with child-like amusement. Anyone passing would probably assume he was examining a patron that had partied too hard already. |
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| Deleted User | Mar 5 2009, 01:35 PM Post #13 |
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Andron slid the whet stone over the edge of his blade. Whenever he was bored he sharpened his weapons and maintained his equipment. There was no reason to let good time go to waste. After a few moments he set the whet stone down on the table in front of him and inspected his work. He let a long sigh out as he did, the sword was not going to get any sharper. The blade was at a perfect edge since he started and continuing to maintain it was doing no good. There was not much to do while waiting for the jousting match to begin, thus Andron and his men worked on his gear so they could help pass time. He looked over at his aides polishing his plate mail. "What coat are you on?" Androniucs asked half heartily. "Third coat sir" the aide replied. Again Andron let another sigh in boredom. The empress was taking her sweat time. Andron stood and walk out into the street and looked around for a moment. A few blocks down it seemed like there was some commotion going on, but Andron turned his attention away figuring it was a brawl or thief stirring up trouble. He decided to get with master of the tourney and see what the match up was going to be. He moved through the crowded streets until he found the temporarily constructed shack where the master of the tourney was still waiting on last minute arrivals and sign ups. Andron nodded to the man as he came up to him, the tourney master looked at him and smiled. "Lord Comnenus! Good to see you again, here to get a glimpse at the bracket before we begin?" The tournament master asked. Andron returned the smile. "Yes as a matter of fact I am." The tourney master walked over to a table and picked up a large sheet up paper. He then returned to Andron handing it to him. "You start with Sir Baldwin, my lord." "An Imperial Knight, they always tough opponents." Andronicus commented as he looked through the list. It had seemed as if the tournament was well balanced by the entrants and their skill, he hated it when a really good entrant go placed in an easy bracket. "Sorry my lord, but I have other affairs I need to attend to, I will see you at the joust. Good Luck." Andron smiled. "I won't need it." |
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| Yorishine | Mar 6 2009, 08:14 PM Post #14 |
Supreme Moderator
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Through crowd and busy street one great beast did tread, its careful footfalls hesitant for each passing body that passed its route. A white body, topped heavily in a rich golden-honey tan that tainted her snowy coat to her flanks with a caramel stain, decorated atop and behind with strands of the lightest cream, was the sight of a saintly mare whom made delicate path through the festival's merriment. She was a sturdy creature, more than capable of mowing down the many people that littered about the streets in celebration, but also was she a patient one, that scarcely moved lest the space ahead be cleared with absolute certainty. Though her ears gave each booming sound a concious flick, she remained calm amidst the noise and bustle of the occasion's rise. Seated straight and proper upon the creature's back was a sweetened lass of small stature, whose state of mind seemed less stable than that of her mount. Where as the mare merely flicked an ear, the maiden responded to each noise with a notable cringe, her hands gripped white onto the creature's reins. Upon her was a gentle face, fair of complexion and soft-featured; pretty, to a count, for one not quite so youthful as she was. Her long hair was restrained to her back, the silken black ribbon tied in a bow at the base of her neck, keeping the strands of sunlight blonde from drifting forth before her sky crystal eyes. If not the presence of the mare or the lovely nature of the riding maiden, then it was her garb that would set her apart from the joyous masses. Far from that of a commoner, she bore upon herself more richly tailored garb. Her torso was clothed in a loosely fitted cotton shirt, near pure in white, and buttoned from where the gap started between her breasts up to the second button at her collar, leaving just one level undone. Worn beneath the shirt, which remained untucked, were a pair of tanned breeches, which also declined to formly fit their wearer. Each pant leg ended mid-calf over long white stockings, barely visible as they tucked into her polished black buckled boots. Concealing the majority of her from sight was a single article; the royal navy fabric of a white-trimmed coat, embroidered between coat and trim with a solid pattern of golden thread. She held upon herself the proud appearance of a noble; perhaps a noble's daughter, most decidely of Sotoan origin. What so lost a child was doing riding through the streets of Morrim was a wonder, for with her came no family nor guard as escort. The vulnerable maiden rode alone, though not without any form of protection at her side. Hidden beneath the length of her coat was a sword, designed decoratively with a golden hilt, its blade concealed within a blackened sheath which itself were tied firmly to her own black leather belt. Yorishine, as the damsel's spirit was named, was feeling less than formidable seated upon his soft-natured mount. In his previous life he had known a more wary confidence, not fully assured of himself, but certain enough to handle himself more gracefully through a bustling street. Since the incident, however, he had found himself to be meeker, and petulant, constantly worried of another's glance. What he had to fear, he could not decide, but the feeling could not be shaken. His only reassurance was with his gentle companion, whom took each step with a positive stride. As a sudden outburst sent Yorishine jumping upright in his saddle, the cautious mare came to a pause, waiting for her rider to regain her wits before continuing on her intended route. Resettling himself into the saddle, Yorishine leaned forward to pat the creature's neck appreciatively, and wandered his eyes about their surroundings once more. Up until that point he had paid the area around him with little mind, withdrawn into his thoughts as he had tendancy to do, but now his interest was set on an attraction set up within range of himself and his mount. A jousting arena, designed for a clash between those of noble, and sometimes just daring, suits. He had been to such events before, invited, and in his early years, dragged, to spectate along with the rest of his blood. It had been a misfortune in his early teens to have had the sour mood to defame the sport, and such was given option to put his own wits to the play. In turn he was sorely beaten, knocked clean from his stallion with a few minor bruises to add to the insult. Determined from there after to make up for his failure, he had spent quite a few years afterward perfecting his skill. Among others his age he had proven himself a good number of times victorious, but when he again challenged a fellow of greater age, he came to terms with the meaning of experience and soon gave up the craft. Half driven by nostalgia and half again with curiousity, he guided his dear Star to approach the set-up, dismounting only as he neared the entrants' listing. Leaving his mare, unteathered, several paces to his back, he strode his delicate frame up to peer at the matchings, and found himself in company of another whose interest seemed upon the roster. Feeling awkward without sparing even a polite hello, he turned his attention to greet the other, forcing upon himself a welcome smile. "It is quite the event, is it not? Has been some time since I have last witnessed a joust." |
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| Deleted User | Mar 13 2009, 05:56 AM Post #15 |
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(Since multiple RPs are cool here <.< Might as well) The Festival of Life. Mortals and creatures alike, gathered in one place to perform celebratory actions, one of them being drinking. Sanna knew all too well that spirits have an adverse affect on the judgment of others, and a whole city of drunks running around would be easy to pick off, seeing as how his charm and veil spells would be nearly 100% effective on anyone who had been drinking moderately. Unfortunately, his business in Kinaldi was a bit more official; requested, you could say. In a large house, not too far from the festivities, Sanna was lying next to a woman in bed, both being completely naked. Simply for his own protection, Sanna had a simple veil up to cover the basics just in case the woman would turn on him; his ears were human and not pointed, his eyes were an odd shade of dark purple, and his hair was silvery in color. Everything else remained the same, save for the name that the lady addressed him by; Joueur, which just happened to be the same of his rapier that lay next to the bed with the rest of his clothes. The woman, who had been breathing heavily from exerting herself was finally able to catch her breath, almost purring with a grin as she turned and rolled on her side, looking over at the so-called Joueur, who was sitting up slightly, leaning his upper back against the headboard of the large and expensive-looking bed. She recapped a few of the 'moves' that Sanna had used, as he lifted his arm to wrap around her as she scooted closer to him. This has not been the first time that this Lady had called upon Sanna for his services. In fact, Sanna noted that this was the fifth time that she had sent for him while he was in town. He had no lasting allure, but it seemed that he wasn't easily forgettable either, especially when it came to the carnal type of pleasures. They spoke for a short bit of time, whereas Sanna began to take his leave. The Lady frowned, but did not protest; she knew it was just a business transaction, and she wasn't frowning because she wanted the company; she was frowning because she wanted Sanna as her "personal assistant" and had made more than one offer before this time. She again made that same offer, and Sanna smiled and turned her down yet again. "You know I cannot...my spirit does not like it when it is locked in one place. Other women to see, bed, and things of the like." He was very casual in his tone and the woman accepted his small speech with slight reluctance. Sanna was dressed quickly; probably in record time, since he's had a lot of practice with dressing quickly and getting the hell out of wherever he was, given the fact that sometimes husbands can come into the room whenever they feel the urge and ruin the whole mood. The rapier dangled slightly at his hip when he adjusted his belt, using a free hand to keep the sword at rest. He smiled to the still naked woman in bed and bowed in a polite manner, crossing his one arm over his chest as he did. "Miss. It has been a pleasure, as it usually is with you...one of my more...enjoyable customers, I should say." In a quick motion, the Lady flicked a small pouch in Sanna's direction, which he caught with a swift motion of his hand. The woman had tossed Sanna his payment and while she was smiling, she sighed as he turned and walked out of the room. Sanna exited the house, his ears twitching to the festivities as he did so. More people to fool, more women to sleep with, and so on and so forth. Deactivating his veil in the privacy of an alley that he passed through, he emerged on the other side of the street looking as himself, slightly pointed ears, and a single green orb sitting in his almond-shaped eye. Half-elf, some would call him, but Sanna was beginning to understand that while his kin resemble elves, he was far from being an elf. Not seeing too many local authorities amidst the crowds of people, Sanna, at a distance, blended in well with the rest of the inhabitants, although closer inspection of his physical features might lead one to stare slightly. Sanna didn't care either way; he had turned some coin today was out to spend, hopefully not all today. He was very frivolous with his money because everything was a game; he hasn't lost in life yet, so he wasn't too worried about the consequences. |
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| Ravior | Mar 14 2009, 05:55 PM Post #16 |
Veiled Reaper
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A rather robust lady ran around frantically, stumbling and crying out to people for assistance, though not many paid attention to the poor frightened woman, her large proportions bouncing about as she leapt at people, complaining about some missing kid, or something of the sort. Tears seemed to flood her eyes as she flopped like a fish out of water about the less crowded of streets. The cloaked figure continued walking, sticking to the right side of the cobblestone path, feet gliding and making a rather soft noise when landing. It had been a while since he really ate anything, well, anything worth eating, random edible fungus and small cooked animals that he caught outside of town. The man wasn’t the best of cooks, and hardly was his food always cooked thoroughly. In fact, he pretty much preferred his meat bloody for some strange reason. Whenever the man would order food from pubs and such, the waiters and waitresses would give odd looks to the man, as if his tastes were strange. The plump woman was still leaping around like a gazelle being hunted down by a rather ferocious carnivore. By the time she reached the covered man, she was panting and tripping all over the cobblestone walk. As if coincidence, she fell towards him, staggering and unable to catch herself this time. At an incredible speed, he threw out a stiff arm to catch the large woman. As she steadied herself, he got a closer look at her. Her thick brown hair was tied back to show off her fleshy cheeks the color of radishes, most likely from all the running. Her clothes were a bit frilled, but not as decorative as a noble’s, yet not as plain as a commoner’s, most likely the wife of a shop owner of sorts. “Steady yourself, woman,” Ravior said letting down his hood, giving his blonde locks breathing room. His face had become rather tanned sitting in the sun for the past few days. As soon as she realized his strength, she grappled his arm quickly and looked him in the eyes with a chunky puppy dog face. She began to plead for assistance, “Help me please, my son has gone missing, I turned for a moment to look for a nice spot for lunch and he vanished! My son! Please help me find him!” she nearly screamed in his ears. Ravior simply frowned. “Ma’am, are you sure he didn’t wonder a few paces from where you started? I’m no officer, I’m a mercenary, and I do nothing for free.” He simply removed his arm and started to stride away. She came hurdling from behind him, “Wait! I’ll pay you; I have some money, please!” Ravior’s growling stomach forbids him from declining the offer so abruptly. He stopped in his tracks and turned his head slightly, “Child finder’s fee is ten coins. If I have to fight, it’s an extra twenty, deal?” She quick nodded and gave a grand smile. Sudden hollering and howling came from behind the portly woman, some people ran about randomly, followed by a small mutter of “Self-defense” and people dispersing. He watched a strange man walk into an alley way. “What’s going on,” he grabbed an older man running, dressed in rags, a quick response of, “boy injured, man apparently was defending himself or somethin’, I’m offta find a guard.” He let the man’s arm free and watched him scurry off. Cowards, he simply muttered in his head. Ravior turned abruptly and lifted the large woman and ran for the alleyway. Once at the entrance he steadied her feet to the ground and pulled her forward and watched the odd character kick the unconscious boy. Ravior gave a quick point to the young man hunched over, “That him?” A fearful look fell upon her face as she screamed once more. “Guess that’s a yes…” Ravior replied holding his ears. Removing his black cloak, he draped it on the woman’s right shoulder, revealing his toned body. He lifted his hand garbed in gauze and pointed his finger to the pale man, “Hey, it’s too nice a day, hand the boy over, he’s obviously had enough,” he let out in a monotonous voice to Andromalius. |
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| Andromalius | Mar 14 2009, 09:36 PM Post #17 |
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King of the Sexy Guys
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His head snapped up at the scream. He'd drawn attention, quite the alternative to what he had been attempting to do. With a stunning personality like his, he thought, it didn't matter how stealthy he tried to be. He would inevitably attract crowds, considering people flock to greatness. Oh, if they had only known him in his prime... Leaning back, his head craned to stare at the finger pointed in his direction. This guy... riding in to save the day like some fantasy hero. The bile in his gut was already bubbling. Another quick glance went to the Necromancer within close proximity. For some reason, his attention continued to be taken by her. There was something not right with her, the same way something was not right with himself. She smelled of death, but not the stench of rotting flesh. It was more akin to the same magical residue that had inevitably given him life after death, the same scent he carried with him. No doubt if she did practice in the dark arts, she would be able to sense it on him as well. She would have to wait, regrettably, as he handled this troublesome situation with the gawking meatbags. Hopefully there would be no need to summon Erim... A random sphinx walking around Kinaldi would no doubt attract even more unwanted attention. As cowardice as his next acts would be, they were the wisest. He threw on that same harmless face he had held before quite effortlessly, opening his arms to the grotesquely rotund woman and the repulsive street saint. "Of course," he bowed his head low, reaching up to remove the golden mask as a sign of sincerity. His dark eyes were revealed with the raccoon markings, as well as the wide serpentine mouth and the paper white skin. He was obviously not human. This was no make-up job. "I admit, I meant to stir no such trouble or interrupt the glory of this festival. Forgive me. This one surprised me. I retaliated according to my instincts. It may relieve you to know that he will be just fine. Some rest and he will be as fresh as a daisy." The words nearly stuck in his mouth, for as he communicated these lies, one by one, he could think of nothing else but cracking the kid's skull open to dig his talons into the squishy, juicy insides and feeding the remainders to the wolves. "This boy is yours, yes?" he drifted his way over to the woman, keeping his head low. "I can tell you care much for him. Please forgive me. I beg of you. I would never wish the scorn of a loving mother on any soul, and you, my lady, do not deserve the grief you are feeling. Allow me to make it up to you. When you so wish it, come visit my estate in the mountains. I will see to it that my servants treat you and your progeny like royalty, shower you with silks and perfumes, and you my return to your home with all that I have given you, free." Quick thinking. True, he couldn't finish the job right here in the streets, but if she took the bait, he could finish them both later. |
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| Ravior | Mar 14 2009, 11:21 PM Post #18 |
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Veiled Reaper
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Such a bad feeling chilled his spine as the man told his lies. The woman blushed at the flattery and sweet lies that spat out of the man’s mouth, but Ravior knew the falsehoods he spoke of. No matter, what happened afterward is of no issue for him, he did his job. Retrieving his cloak from the woman’s shoulders, he adorned it upon himself, cloak flapping in the soft breeze, showing off the glimmering emblem. “Now that he is returned, the payment ma’am?” he said with a small smile. She quickly drifted back to herself with a, “Huh? Oh, yes, the finder’s fee, and since there was no battling it’s only ten coins, correct?” Ravior nodded at her acknowledgement of the agreement. Such a bad feeling chilled his spine as the man told his lies. She counted out the ten coins and set it in his bandage-covered hands. Ravior quickly deposited them in his quite empty money pouch. “Doubt you’ll be able to carry an unconscious boy of this size, my lady, I’ll escort you home,” he said, lifting the boy and muttering to himself, kicking a kid while he’s down, tch. He shot a stern glare, trying to give off the impression that he knew what he’d be doing back in the so-called estate with the woman and child, though he knew not the true reason. The child was relatively light, well, compared to his mother anyways. “Hmm, silks and perfumes, huh,” she said as she led Ravior, “maybe I’ll take him up on the offer, sounds so relaxing!” The plump woman cheesed at Ravior expecting a smile, but to no avail. Something wasn’t right about that guy, he didn’t seem human, too pale and the hair was odd. Unfortunately, it left him clueless; he hadn’t had many experiences with other races to tell the difference. Oh well, his job was done after he deposits the kid and woman at home. Ravior’s stomach gave a great growl to announce its happiness at the jingling pouch bouncing at his thigh. This in turn, makes the woman laugh with surprise and astonishment at such a loud noise. “Guess it wouldn’t hurt to feed you too, as payment for carrying him since that wasn’t part of the deal,” she gives a great slap on his back. “Much appreciated, ma’am,” he said glancing back once more. “Such a nuisance child of mine, wondering off and scaring a courteous man like that, it was sort of expected I guess. This is my reward for marrying a man who runs a toy store and spoils his child!” |
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| Andromalius | Mar 15 2009, 12:50 PM Post #19 |
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King of the Sexy Guys
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Situation successfully defused without the use of spells or his guardian astronomalie. Why in the world had he ever felt a sense of worry? He was much greater than that. What had just occurred was trivial and meaningless, way beneath his skill level of deception. As the pair turned to travel back to whatever rat-infested hovel the woman called home, the hero lingered, casting a knowing glance in the mage's direction. Ah yes, but the hero couldn't do anything about it now that the woman was on his side, such were the moral standings of a hero. When Andromalius gave a return glance, his delicate facade melted into something he was more comfortable with, seething with hate and malice. He allowed the hero to see this, adding to it a wide, sly grin and a taunting wink, waving bye-bye as they became farther away. As if these weren't enough, he pointed directly at the woman with one hand, the other sliding a talon across his throat to allow the hero to see his intentions. If she did choose to take him up on his offer, she would no doubt be done for, she and her son both, leaving the patriarch with tattered scraps of a life, plotting his destruction by his own hand. The mage returned to the place on the wall the slumped body had previously been occupying. The mask was reset to his face, but he continued on instead of stopping, for there was no longer a reason to linger. |
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| Isra Amiel | Mar 15 2009, 01:31 PM Post #20 |
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Her Imperial Majesty, the Grand Empress of Morrim
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Her attention was partially divided, the man on her arm possessing the majority of it, but the sights, sounds, and smells of everything around her was so exhilarating. She rarely had a chance to experience her own streets in such a casual manner. It wasn't an amazing feat for her to be outside, but rather, not to be the spectacle of everyone in the entire city. Today, a dancer was more interesting. Pie was more interesting. Her people were more interesting, as she felt it should be. "Hmm, if your father says that, he sounds like a great warrior. I have only heard such things come from the mouths of men prepared to die." Her neck craned, giving him a clear view of a mass of smooth, flawless skin which carried a signature glow, particularly there beneath the sunlight. She was looking at a child running across the square, off to show is mother the trinkets he had obtained. A nudge in the shoulder brought her back in time to hear his question. "I am torn, Brin. You see, the question of what is right and what is unjust possesses many facets. For instance, a situation is never as easy as 'yes or no'. People have reasons for the way they are and strong beliefs behind them. Children are the most complicated. The boy may not have known that what he was doing was necessarily wrong. He may have been taught to badger the weak in order to obtain what he wants. And what of his desires? Does he simply wish to acquire friends? Is it just a notch on a journey to attempt to become something bigger than himself?" She smiled, tilting her head at him so slightly. "My answer is... I would gather them all and hear the sides of each one. Based on that, I would acknowledge all if their reasons were genuine. If it were revealed that the boy really had no good reason, I may explain to him the reason for there being a moral code, the way it will help him in the future if he were to follow it. Appeal to him and his needs if he is selfish. Either way, the problem may not be completely dissolved, whether the temporary solution be violence or a lecture. It's really up to him, I suppose..." She attempted to keep herself from too many tangents. She could go on for a while about this, but she really had no desire to hear herself speak for such an extended amount of time. It was then that a dismissed soldier placed himself in front of her and bowed low, "Your Grace, the jousting tournament is ready to begin and requires your presence." "Oh yes! Of course!" Her eyes grew wide. She grabbed the fabric of her skirt and nearly began to drag poor Brin along behind her. "I nearly forgot with all of this excitement!" |
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| Deleted User | Mar 16 2009, 08:20 AM Post #21 |
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One would be surprised how a simple veil could do wonders to mask one's presence. On pure instinct alone, when Sanna heard the previous events of the large woman wailing, he just so happened to be near her enough for him to believe that she was possibly coming for him. It wasn't so far fetched to have a woman--or a man, probably a husband for that matter--come running at Sanna in a fit of anger. At the very core, Sanna was a trouble maker, and while he liked to stir trouble, he didn't quite appreciate when the trouble ended up catching up with him. Plus, Sanna's clothing, if one was looking for him, would give him away rather quickly; black clothes, eye patch, pointed ears and a visible almond-shaped eye. Upon pure instinct--and probably because he was feeling rejuvenated from sleeping with a beautiful woman not a half an hour prior--a veil was instantly erected around himself. He felt somewhat foolish for dropping his previous veil so quickly just a moment earlier, but the veil that he was currently employing was one that did not hide his features, but rather caused those who looked upon him to seem uninterested; like he was simply another person in the crowd. This veil was up to the perception of the person viewing him, so to one person he could seem like a homeless beggar, and to another, he might seem like a simple traveler. Either way, the results would be the same; people would just shrug their shoulders and brush past Sanna as if he wasn't of any importance. It wasn't a perfect veil and those who were looking for him or had a strong sense of awareness might be able to realize that someone was attempting to mask their presence. As the veil was cast, Sanna happened to turn in the direction of the flailing and screaming woman, watching as Ravior interjected before the woman fell. A small frown touched Sanna as he thought it would have been rather funny to see the woman fall on her face or tumble around like a well-fed sphere, taking people out as she rolled. Instead, he had to watch Ravior pull out his quiet chivalry, hence the light frown, but Sanna was now intrigued by the situation that was unfolding. Without even thinking about it, he began to follow the two until he was looking down an alley and watching the altercation play out from there. While he gave a light concentration to the veil he generated, he started to think about the situation and what had happened to start off this whole situation. Being close enough to the area where he could hear the conversation, he listened to Andromalius as an unseen smirk touched his features, thanks to the veil. Andromalius was lying, although he was being very polite and proper about it. Sanna felt that perhaps he was looking through some sort of reflective surface and wondering if he too looked the same way when he lied; smooth and gentlemanly. This man--or being, quite possibly--was definitely good at speaking falsehoods; even Sanna had some trouble deciding whether or not Andromalius's words were truthful or not, but what gave it away for Sanna was years of experience in this sort of thing, not to mention that hideous facial expression that Andromalius gave after the woman was not watching. A man after Sanna's own heart with this performance. After everyone took their leave, Sanna still lingered, watching each party depart while still wrapping himself in the veil that he had constructed. He wasn't entirely sure what he wanted to do now, but was beginning to feel as though he should put something on his stomach; possibly some food and a few glasses of wine, just in case. Some people didn't usually turn out on top when they drank, but Sanna felt more like his true self when he drank; a little more charisma, a little more swagger...and a lot more talking. He didn't get drunk easily, but his mouth could move as much and as a fast as a duck's behind (Heh, parents used to say that one). |
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| Deleted User | Mar 16 2009, 10:15 AM Post #22 |
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Deleted User
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Brin felt a little like he was atop a grand horse, having Isra's arm wrapped around his own. Indeed, it was something of an honor as the Empress does not often walk the streets of Kinaldi. While he kept his manners about him--which meant no cursing or rude actions--Brin could be seen walking in a confident sort of fashion, simply because he was feeling rather important at the moment. Then, as about as much confidence as a skydiver on his first jump, he looked over to Isra as she spoke. The words of his father being a great warrior stung; not because he wasn't a great warrior--indeed he was. No, the words stung because his father, while being a great warrior, didn't really know how to be a father, and only knew how to be a warrior, thus training his sons in a similar fashion. For someone Brin disliked with a passion, it hurt a bit to hear people speak of his father as this great fighter. The pain of the comment never visibly showed on Brin's face or body language, but it quickly dissipated as he listen to the Empress speak. Halfway through Isra's complex critical thinking process, Brin was at a loss for words. Isra was able to take the subject and look at it objectively from so many sides, whereas Brin only saw one or two sides of the situation. He never thought about why the kid was being a bully; only that he was being a bully and action was required to stop him from performing any more bullying. The way Isra spoke of it, Brin almost started to feel bad in the way he dealt with the situation, because it might not have been the children that deserved the gust of wind that Brin had delivered against them, but perhaps the parents or those that caused the children to behave in such a way. Brin didn't even think about the effects of his actions afterward either. Perhaps the children beat up on the girl even harder because he intervened and made them look like fools. Brin stood in amazement at how Isra was able to decipher the situation. She wasn't the Empress just because was pretty; turns out she's a smart one too! Brin's mind was digesting what Isra had said, ignoring what the guard had said to the Empress. Even when the Empress exclaimed out loud, it only served to snap Brin out of his thought comatose for a second. What surprised Brin was the Empress tugging on his arm and quickly moving in one direction, nearly dragging him at first. Brin managed to literally hit the ground running, keeping pace with Isra; how embarrassing that would've been if anyone caught Brin being dragged by the Empress. After he was sure he wasn't going to fall from the speed of movement, Brin was able to choke out, "Wha? What's going on? What did you forget?" |
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| Sphynx | Mar 20 2009, 02:48 PM Post #23 |
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All-Knowing Mod of Elly
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She had only taken a few steps into the side street when the body came sailing past her. Unflinching, she turned to face the body just in time to watch it slide down the wall and fall in a heap. It was a shame he was still alive; living bodies did her little good. She considered just killing the man and putting him out of his misery, but before she could take a step in his direction, the robed figure appeared. The moment she saw him, she knew what he was. She, who dealt with spirits both living and dead, who had been to the land of the dead and returned alive, knew his kind when she saw them, and she had seen them before. Her lips curled in a smirk as he looked her over. He would be able to smell her; the scent of death that always seemed to linger upon her skin, her hair, her clothing. She never could quite get rid of that smell, not that she really minded it, but it always seemed to give her away to those who were familiar with it. At least he hadn’t made public the announcement of her magical trade; most humans didn’t take well to meeting a necromancer. She wasn’t planning on letting the cat out of the bag, so to speak, oh no, she had other plans for this creature. The necromancer stepped back into the wall, her black cloak helping her to blend into the shadows. She didn’t care whether or not she was seen, but she didn’t want to attract attention to herself at this point in time either. She instead wanted to sit and wait, watching the scene as it unfolded itself…and what a scene it was. It contained all of the interesting themes of a good story; violence, intrigue, and lies. She watched as another rather muscled man appeared leading a large, and rather distressed looking woman; apparently the mother of the fallen boy. But it wasn’t them that she cared about, nor did she give the other man who had come with the mother a second glance. No, it was the mage who was the center of her attention. The pale spirit was quite the actor, and he had an estate in the mountains…eavesdropping really was the best way to get to know about people. It was quicker and much more interesting than actual conversation. The pale mage had returned to stand by the wall when Sphynx moved to stand next to him, her own gaze staring down on the spot where the boy had fallen. She raised her hands together and clapped lightly three times, an amused look on her face. “That was quite a show, sir.” She remained by his side even when he had moved on; she had no intention of letting this man out of her sight just yet. |
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| Andromalius | Mar 21 2009, 04:26 PM Post #24 |
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King of the Sexy Guys
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At last, she spoke, the mystery woman with the familiar scent. He graced her with his attention, turning his head to watch her as she caught up with him. She would only know he was smiling by the slight tension of muscle just beneath his eyes. He resembled a smug serpent. "Why thank you, Ma'am. I aim to impress," his arm raised in a flourish and lowered with his top half into a rushed bow. He resumed looking in front of himself as he hurried past a couple of wandering residents. "So, you sensed me as I sensed you. You deal with the dead. It pleases me to know the art hasn't been forgotten as well. Who-so-ever is skilled in the practice surely deserves nothing but respect, yes?" He halted, lingering on the side of a cobblestone road, to turn his entire body towards her, signifying his seriousness, "You are... skilled, correct? It would sourly depress me if you turned out to be a gravedigger..." Someone with whom he could speak without feeling the need to exact punishment for stupidity. His voice held a subdued excitement as he hung on her response, practically going insane with suspense. Or worse yet... She could be a good person, however unlikely. A nemesis would take too much time to deal with, time he did not possess. Ah, but if she were, surely she would have said something in the matter of the fat woman and the street hero. The picture painted itself in his mind. King and Queen of evil, sitting on thrones of fresh bodies, throwing bones at the wolves, like a fairytale. It could not be that perfect. Impossible. |
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| Sphynx | Mar 23 2009, 10:38 AM Post #25 |
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All-Knowing Mod of Elly
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She watched him as they walked, intent on learning as much as she could about this creature for however long this meeting would be. His face was quite clear of emotion, most likely because he had little emotion to begin with, but she also conjectured that he was one who was good at keeping a blank mask. “Yes, I know what you are.” Her smirk remained as her eyes watched him coolly. She barely even had to pretend to be polite to this creature, one who already held a bit of respect in her eyes merely because of what he was. “And I…” She chuckled softly, not completely used to anyone speaking of what she was in such a pleasing tone. “am no gravedigger.” That was as much of a confirmation to her true occupation as she was willing to give while walking through the streets of a city currently hosting such a large festival. There were likely to be eyes and ears everywhere, even if she couldn’t see them, and there was always the chance of a mob when necromancers proclaimed their art, and this city already had the crowd, all it needed was the pitchforks. Her hands clasped each other behind her back casually. “You may call me Sphynx.” She nodded her head briefly, an introduction, as she continued down the lane. She wasn’t in such a hurry anymore; true she still desired to get out of this wretched city, but it held surprises that she had never expected. She considered asking his name, but she knew that if he desired a necromancer to know it, he would offer it. Besides, that wasn’t what she really wanted to know anyway. “How did you come to be here? I haven’t seen any of your kind for a long time.” She only knew of one other in this land who had the ability to call forth such a being, and she knew that he had no desire to…unless the creature was a young one. As it was she needed to know if there was anyone else around with such power, or if this creature had found another way. She knew that many of his kind could be summoned like any other spirit, but that wasn’t the only way for them to appear. If he had come here on his own, he could be more intriguing than she had first imagined. A banshee with no master to follow, capable of doing whatever it wanted, was a powerful force indeed. |
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