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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: |
| Storm on the Horizon; (For Raya) | |
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| Topic Started: Aug 7 2009, 01:14 PM (106 Views) | |
| Eismond | Aug 7 2009, 01:14 PM Post #1 |
 
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Large grey clouds moved slowly over the sky, casting a mellow haze over the afternoon sun. The air was heavy with humidity though a swift breeze kept it from being stuffy. Occasional flashes of light lit up the horizon in shocks of white followed by distant rumbles of thunder. A curtain was drawn across the river valley, hiding it in rain and shadow. Between the curtain and the Falls a line of light caused the water to dance and sparkle like fire. Steadily the storm moved toward the East, where it might yet cover the area around the Falls. A man of perhaps twenty years strode cautiously along the upper cliffs. Shelves of rock thrust out of the ground and loose stones tumbled down deep cracks. His keen eyes followed the cracks, searching for the dark places near pools of water. Most of the upper cliffs were completely dry and only scrubby bushes dared to thrive there. Shaking his head he picked up speed, loping swiftly downward. His bare feet leaped swiftly from shelf to shelf, seeking the surest way. Some of the larger boulders that looked stable would shift as he stepped on them, and he would spring off again hastily. With the muffled sound of rushing water buzzing in his ears, the man paused. He crouched down beside a small pool of water and reached carefully back under a rock. A small smile spread across his face as he plucked the stems from a small plant. The stems had pale purple flowers with razor sharp edges on them. Closing his eyes slightly the man bent his gaze on the flowers which grew colder and paler in his grasp. He took from a black pouch at his belt some wide leaves collected in the forest of Erth'netora. They were still green, and he wrapped the pale flowers in them. He spent most of the morning hunting the cliffs in this fashion. By noon his pouch was full and his mind satisfied. He returned to the upper cliffs where he gathered fallen wood at the edge of the forest. With it he started a small fire on a flat rock shelf overlooking the river. His camp was close to the falls, just outside the spray of water. He gathered some water in an old cooking pot and set it over the fire to boil. Pulling a knife from it's sheath on his baldric, and a wrapped package from his pack, he set to cleaning a rabbit. The meat he chopped up and threw into the pot with some of the fresh herbs. The skin he washed carefully in the water before the Falls and laid it to dry on a rock. The man sat down a shelf by the fire overlooking the Falls. There he watched the awesome sight of the water pouring down to the mists below and the great storm on the horizon. The place seemed magnificent and charged, as if caught in the eye of a wild beast. The feeling caused the hair on his neck to prickle and he wondered at how small his life was in the grand scheme of the world. |
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| Raya Clearwood | Aug 8 2009, 12:49 AM Post #2 |
 
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After carving her name into Orion's chest, Raya had hoofed it as far from the plains as possible. It wasn't the fact she was fearful of the vengeance he was sure to seek for her little branding, but the fact she could not believe what she had done- willingly. The first four days after the affair on the plains, had left Raya in a state teetering blissful contentment. By the fifth however, guilt had started to work creeping tendrils through her mind. The tenth day, the day she had reached the edges of Soto, only do to her irrational pace, the guilt was burning like a wildfire; all consuming with no sense of direction- bent on destruction. She wove through the forest like a lioness stalking pray, swift and soundless. It was a much heartier terrain than the grasses of the plains, and there was much more to the wildlife and flora. She stopped to take in nothing, she had not stopped moving the last three days in fact. Resting had cost a high price. It had given the mind freedom to roam the inner depths of her subconscious, and it had mixed something toxic with her dreams. The image still burned fresh in her mind, but she tried her damnedest to dispel it, and so she kept moving. By noon she had reached the snaking trail of water caused by the falls. She decided, only half consciously, to follow it up stream. When she reached the falls of Amaranth, then, and only then would she allow a break in her trek. Her body quavered with hunger and exhaustion, but nothing would stop her. To her left the clouds gathered in a front; traces of sun leaked out on a far off landscape but was quickly being consumed by the shadow of down pouring rain. It really was no use, each footfall landed another memory- a spark of betrayal, a jolt of pleasure beneath a burning night sky, the rapid pulse driven by growing blood lust. Each one flashed by, sending fresh waves of anger sweeping over her countenance. The fatigue wasn't helping her mood. She strayed from the thought, knowing what havoc it would unleash if she acknowledged it- that the sole reason for her vehemence was directed, at the lone fact she did not feel guilty for her actions- that she should, but did not. She growled angrily and set her pace at a jog. Skipping along the rising shelves with an agility that was uncommon for one so taken by anger. She hoped the rain would push this way, something about the loud thunder and angry streaks of lightning raking across the sky seemed comforting. She had abruptly cut into some forest on her way up, and unbeknownst to her, was making her way promptly into the camp of a stranger. Before she had even realized it, Raya was standing not five feet away from a man sitting idly by a fire and watching the storm roll on. Her icy blue orbs stared down at him viciously, her breathing staggered from the pace she had set. She was too tired and too hungry to kill him, but the idea sounded highly appeasing, for the simple fact she just wanted to kill something. Her hand twitched, but fell still. Now was not the time for a brawl, though if it came to that, come what may she would take his life. It was that instant, starring into the strangers eyes, she vowed to seek Orion De Lacey out-immediately. She would hunt him down and exact the ultimate price- his life. It would not be quick. It would not be clean. And he would not enjoy an ounce of it. As if some kind of great relief had been lifted from that alone, her shoulders sank back slightly and she made to steady her breathing. Her optics never lost an ounce of hostility as she continued to stare at the seated man, but she had decided completely not to kill him unjustly. Breathing still uneven, foul mood as per usual, and, "Who the hell are you." graced the static air between them. |
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| Eismond | Aug 8 2009, 11:41 AM Post #3 |
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He stayed still for a long time, blending in with the scenery. Occasionally a stir of the pot or the desire to toss in more herbs moved him, but always he would return to staring at the horizon. Fragrant wafts of steam were now rising from the pot to be carried away on the breeze. From time to time he stoked the fire, adding dry twigs to make the fire crackle back into life. Always he kept the flames low and sheltered behind the rocks. The storm was turning and the wind rising. Already it was plucking at the edges of his cloak and whipping the top of the fire against the rock. Perhaps within the hour it will strike. A few minutes after stoking the fire he became aware of a noise. It was sharper than general cacophony of wind and water. Immediately he looked around, suspecting some wild animal. A bear, perhaps, would stray from the forest edge in search of fish. His eyes closed and his ears grew sharper, listening for the telltale footfalls against the hard rock. Softer than a bear, and generally faster...purposeful...not the hard clack of a hoof...something akin to man. It would be difficult to guess for sure based on sound alone, as sounds could be deceiving. He sat down again on the shelf, his back against a solid rock wall, and waited. The wait was a matter of a few minutes. Her words seemed to spark in the air as the hint of thunder in the distance. Slowly he opened his eyes and raised his head to look at her, the frosted blue gazing into the ice. At once hers seemed to change, pouring forth purpose and anger and a kind of separation. He blinked in surprise at the malice and considered her stance. Her breathing was calming, her body unwinding. I was wrong. The animal walks here, not the human. Before he could answer her there was a loud crack nearby that reverberated through the rocks. Rain began to fall, softly at first then picking up speed. He jumped up and hastened to the fire, pulling the stew away and covering it with the edge of his cloak. If rain got in the stew would overflow and be lost to the Falls. Without the pot to cover it the fire sizzled and died. One-handed he rummaged in his pack and removed a few whittled utensils and a couple bowls. He dished out the stew and thrust a bowl toward the woman. He hid his pack beside him in the shelter of the rock wall and sat down in the corner. With his hood pulled up over his head and the stew in his hands he was comfortable. The rain could pound on them but not flood the camp. It would siphon off down the deep cracks in the rock and flow downhill. "Eismond," he replied loudly, so she would hear above the tumult. "And you?" |
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| Raya Clearwood | Aug 9 2009, 04:12 PM Post #4 |
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She remained stock still even through the sudden clatter from above, following his movements with eyes only. The way he discarded all matters besides the immediate rescue of his pot was- interesting. She wasn't quite sure what to make of it, a line between confidence and foolishness. Her breathing had retained its even rhythm, the built adrenaline helping to focus her wary senses, but not chasing away the exhaustion. She took caution as he dug around in his sack- a possible decoy for a sudden assault. None came and he continued to worry only of the contents of his pot, only acknowledging her presence after he had rescued his meal and taken refuge along the rock face. She blinked incredulously at the bowl of food he offered her, making no move toward it. The rain was falling in thick soaking drops, but she remained standing in the less sheltered area trying to deduce the man before her. Perhaps he underestimated her for being a woman? Her eyes roamed from the man to the bowl the same moment the aroma made its way to her nose. Her stomach gurgled loudly but the sound was lost amongst another boisterous boom of thunder, its brother complimenting it moments later. Leaving a three foot gap between them, she sat down indian-style, before taking the bowl up. She inhaled the curls of steam rolling off the brown liquid, and once contented she could smell no foul play, brought the utensil full to her mouth. The liquid exploded multiple sensations, the flavors a blend she had never tasted before, a warmth running through her exposed form. The spoon came idly to her mouth four more times before she shot him a side glance. "Ice." She said coolly. She tended to denote her nickname most commonly, after all she couldn't really recall anyone besides Orion who had been explicitly given her birth name. She had been bequeathed as Ice, was known by it, and therefore, used it. The edges of her lips curved up for a fraction at that thought. She could have left him with one less letter carved into his chest, and gotten satisfaction that he would have assumed she would not even leave him with the decency of a real name, when infact- it was quite the opposite. He would have the damnedest time seeking out Raya, where as Ice would have been so much more rewarding. That was however, assuming he was looking for her, but she knew if the psychopath was anything like her- and he was- it would only be a matter of time before their paths crossed again. His ending abruptly. She looked out at the discord before them, watching the sky rip and close with silver and white. A 'thank you' would be called for for staunching one of her bodies demands, but that was not her way and so she would not give one to the man. As it were, she sat contentedly eating Esimond's stew, waiting to see what he would do now. |
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| Eismond | Aug 9 2009, 09:23 PM Post #5 |
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Eismond ate his stew steadily, wasting nothing. The rabbit was the last of the kill he carried. Tomorrow he would have to hunt again, when the birds returned to the skies or the rabbits from their holes. Storms tended to scare off wildlife for their duration but paid the land back by rejuvenating it. Alternately he watched the sky and the woman before him, picking up on her hesitation. He understood the necessity of being wary, especially for a woman. Though she seemed to be someone that could take care of herself. And others... he amended to himself, thinking she would be a formidable opponent. Something about her character exuded a fierce determination and a warning for others to back off. Well, she chose to come here. She will just have to deal with my company. When the stew was finished he set his bowl down where the rain would wash it clean. He shifted his position to be more comfortable, his legs sticking out under the shelf. He was surprised when she sat down near to him, though realized she retained a respectable distance. She seemed to enjoy the stew which he was glad for, not having had company in a long time. Her name caused him to raise his head and look at her curiously. If he thought she knew what his name meant he would have thought she was mocking him. As it was she seemed cool and collected. It was probably a hard won nickname, based off her demeanor. "Curious name," he replied. "My name is also Ice. Ice Moon." He continued to stare at her, memorizing the light blue of her eyes. Subtle yet similar. I wonder if she has any power, or if the name is a coincidence. Still it is an apt name. He looked away again off into the distance. She seemed to be lost in her own thoughts while finishing dinner. Eismond wondered where she hailed from. Many people traveled the forest nearby but it was such a vast place that he rarely saw them. She also seemed unprepared for the evening, but he doubted she would stay for the night. She did choose to come here... he reminded himself, realizing already that she would be difficult to figure out. "I am here by chance of travel. It is not much, especially since the rain has washed it out, but you are welcome to stay the night if you choose. Tomorrow I will follow the water, hopefully to some small village." He did not say why but it was obvious why travelers would stop at villages. Often to take on fresh supplies, maybe find some work. The pleasures of taverns also waylaid travelers from time to time, though Eismond usually kept to himself. He did not expect Ice to give up her life story, but hoped she would respond in her own fashion and time. |
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| Raya Clearwood | Aug 18 2009, 10:26 PM Post #6 |
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She stirred the contents of her bowl two times idly, watching the storm rage, before drawing it up to her lips again. It hadn't taken long to polish it off, it was replenishing her body with warmth and energy. When she had finished, she followed Eismond's lead and set the bowl out to be rinsed by the rain. She shot him a side glance when he spoke, but soon turned back to the storm, leaning back against the rock and crossing her arms. "How cute...it's destiny.... we must be soul mates." It was clear sarcasm, but she was so exhausted that the line was delivered lacking the caustic life it normally dripped with, and in doing so made it seem as if she were being serious. If he didn't catch the faint inflection she delivered 'cute' with, he might very well wonder if she were in fact, serious. It was however, somewhat ironic to her. Her eyes were dropping, slits not only from the weight of them, but from the down pour flecking her cheeks and rolling down her soaked tendrils. They clung to her countenance in thick wet tangles, she had never made the effort to put them back into their uniformed braids after leaving the plains. The free exuberant feeling she had acquired then, left her content with a simple tie back, leaving the soft locks to breath. She turned back to look at Eismond, her eerie orbs a mesh of blues and gray; the blue pulling out prominent against the darkening scene. She listened to him as she realized she had not thought of what she would do when the meal was done, as it were, sitting down had only provoked the body to demand rest, and she doubted she could summon enough energy to even stand at the moment. Her eyes were all but screaming to be shut, striving the best they could to pull down her lids and call for the sweet song of slumber. "Mmm, I too am headed for a village.... I'm hoping for a bed." It had really been more beneficial for Eismond to cross paths with her now of all times, her exhaustion seemed to cause her to be more personable; whether it was because she thought it too much effort to continue with the cold front, or simply didn't realize the difference- onc couldn't be sure. A bed sounded like heaven to her ears, she hoped they had a tavern, a bed, bath, and meal sounded like a good idea. Perhaps there was someone who knew something about what she was looking for, too. She leaned back again, truly struggling to keep her eyes open, the storm a lullaby to her heavy thoughts. |
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| Eismond | Aug 19 2009, 03:56 PM Post #7 |
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Eismond watched Raya with a rather serious yet blank look. Does she mean what she says? Somehow it sounds like she is mocking me. Fine gratitude. He noticed the way her eyelids fell, almost as if under the weight of the rain. Her eyes reminded him of the deep blue of a river under a thin layer of ice, grayed by the paleness of a late sun. They were only just hidden by the loose strands of her hair sticking to her face. Stopping the river was like stopping time, and while it might freeze on the surface, the depths flow swiftly. He likened her to the river, sensing she was frozen on the surface but flowing freely beneath. Eismond was drawn from his reverie as he caught the last few words she spoke, about looking for a bed. Mistaking her words he mumbled something in his thick accent and hastily turned over as if to sleep. The young-looking man lay there for a long time listening to the rain fall and the storm closing in. It finally hit the camp with full force, the wind skipping rocks over the ground and churning up the water. Although the camp did not flood entirely Eismond was soon soaked through. The water running through cracks in the rock swirled with dirt and carried away the ashes from the fire. He pulled the hood of his cloak further over his head and drifted into a light sleep. The tracker was up just before dawn. The fury of the storm had blown over during the night and left the air crisp. He breathed deeply, rubbing the grit from his eyes before standing up. Ice appeared to be sleeping still, so he quietly shouldered his bow. Taking a small rock he drew an arrow on the spot where he left, pointing toward the water. He drew a circle shaded in fully to represent an afternoon sun, and an odd loop that resembled a fish. Not entirely trusting the woman he took his pack with him, but left her some bread and cheese for breakfast. He munched on his own ration of bread and cheese, the last of the store. It was likely the only real food he would eat today if he did not reach a village by night. The wood would all be soaked from the day and he did not have enough time to hunt properly. As he ate the tracker made his way along the water. He eventually reached a spot that was somewhat deep but ran more slowly. He drew his bow and knocked an arrow, squinting into the depths. There was a flash of silver beneath the surface. Aiming his bow slightly to the side of the fish he shot an arrow into the water, piercing it. Bow fishing was difficult because of the way the water messed with one's depth perception. He leaned over quickly and caught the arrow as it floated by, then removed the arrow. He stabbed fish once behind the eye then tossed it up on shore to flop around. Eismond rolled up the cuffs of his pants and took off his shirt and leather mail, laying them on the rocks to dry. He returned to the water's edge and waded in, the spray cool and refreshing on his bare skin. Several more fish fell prey to his arrows, joining the first to flop around on the shore. The last one was heavy and began to sink almost immediately. Eismond leaped forward after it, submerging briefly to catch it. He burst from the water triumphantly, a smile gracing his normally taciturn face. As Eismond waded back to shore he flicked his head, shaking the hair back from his face. The sun glinted off tiny water droplets frozen to his body like shimmering diamonds. The water in his hair had frozen as well, bringing out the blue highlights in his hair. It was promising to be a warm day already, but the water did not melt easily from his body. |
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| Raya Clearwood | Aug 22 2009, 08:41 PM Post #8 |
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Had she the energy, she would have quirked a brow at his sudden reaction. As it were, she shifted irritatedly and turned her attention back to the storm. 'Damn honest conversation to hell then.' She thought bitterly, not even sure of what he had said due to his thick accent, and one she couldn't even place. She sat watching the storm, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her head on her knees, before sinking into oblivion soon after. Exhaustion left her unaware of the sudden severity the storm took up upon it's peak, and left her to curl up into a fetal position facing the rock face. The sun was high upon the sky when she woke. Blinking a few times to adjust her eyes she rolled over to look into the expanse of forget-me-not blue. There was a few puffy white clouds drifting lazily on a faint breeze, but otherwise it was a flawless surface. It would be a good day to travel, and warm. For that she was thankful. Her clothes were patched spots of dried material and completely drenched, and she was laying in a small puddle. She sat up with a repressed shiver and looked around. Her eyes immediately shot to the bread and cheese and the caveman like drawing etched into the ground. She looked around swiftly, and then made her way over to the provisions for a better look at the art. She snorted at his masterpiece as she picked up the chunk of bread, "Simpleton." She looked over the bread and cheese cautiously, and then took a bite out of the bread, mauling it casually. She sat with one leg over the edge, the other propping up the arm holding the food. The place was rather appeasing; the roar of the falls could be heard and the sun had spread its tendrils out over the land, drenching it in a lively golden warmth. When she was done she cast a side glance over at the message, and pondered her acquaintance who had left it. Standing up, she stretched slowly. 'Daft, clearly.' She surmised. Certainly anyone of intellect wouldn't leave any of their rations to supply a stranger, not to mention a message detailing their whereabouts. Yet not soon after, her feet were picking out the path towards the river. Maybe it was curiosity, maybe it was boredom, maybe it was because she had the notion he'd an idea of where the nearest town was, and maybe it was all three, either way, she reached the river just in time to watch Esimond remove his shirt and armor. Lingering just inside the tree line, Raya watched him curiously, leaning against a tree and crossing her arms. 'What the hell is he doing?' She wondered, quirking an eyebrow as he waded into the water with his bow. She followed his movements, noted his steady aim, and the precision with which he wielded his bow. "Daft, but... not without any skill." She blinked as he shot, grabbed, and flung all in a fluid motion. A flash of silver erupted in the corner of her eye that dragged her attention to the fish that was writhing in pain. 'Bow fishing...' The concept was interesting to her, she didn't carry a bow and so had never thought of it. She continued to watch him, her interest in his character growing steadily. When he submerged, her orbs narrowed curiously, until he perforated the surface moments later. She noted the victorious air about him, the casual smile his face contorted with. To think something so trivial could issue something so elated. Yet, it did. And maybe that made it all the more interesting. She made no move to hide herself as he waded back to the shore, content that he would surly see her by now, and if he didn't then so be it. She didn't care either way. There was something in the resolve she had made last night, that left lingering effects, and in slight ways, left her in a state much more lively then normal. A coy smile curved her lips as he shook his shaggy tendrils from his face, but her eyes were never yielding to their steely, unwelcoming gaze. The gray had made itself much more dominating today. There was something peculiar with the way the sun reflected the water off his body, but she couldn't quite place it. Not at this distance. Drawing a dagger from her right boot, she tossed it with a mischievous smile, before grabbing it mid air and sending it hurtling into the belly of a fish still wildly thrashing about, pinning it to the ground. If he hadn't seen her yet, he was sure to take note of her now... |
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| Eismond | Aug 27 2009, 10:39 AM Post #9 |
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Leaping nimbly over the rocks he sat down by his pile of catch. Some of the fresher ones were still flopping feebly, even though their brains were cut through. He pulled some light line from his pack and threaded a large needle through it. Then he pulled the line through the jaws of the fish one by one. He heard the soft swish of the knife as Raya threw it. His keen eyes darted up to her as it sank with a thud into the last fish. Carefully he removed the knife and set it by his side, before observing the fish. Blood was oozing from the knife wound as well as the arrow wound, making the fish look mutilated. With a sigh he lobbed the fish over his head and back into the water from whence it came. The bears would be able to pick it out later, if they desired. Eismond slung the line of fish over his shoulder with a wet smack. He bundled his clothing up and stuffed them in his pack and shouldered it. As if he had forgotten, he picked Ice's knife up last, thrusting it diagonally through his belt. "That fish would rot from such a wound," he explained to her, though she probably would not care. As he saw it, she had eaten two meals from him and just wasted part of a third. If she wanted her knife back she would have to pay for her childishness. Without bothering to roll the cuffs of his pants down he started off along the rocks, his bare feet gaining purchase on the tough surfaces. He soon disappeared around a corner and out of sight. His plan was to follow the flow of the water when possible. Eventually it would bring him to some form of civilization. Still, the sun glittered off the ice on his chest and hair, causing him to be something of a beacon. If his mind was not cheating him he thought he could hear her footsteps nearby, along with a strange rushing of wind... A sudden screetch caused Eismond to stop quickly. He turned around just as a pair of talons the size of barrels closed about his waist and around one shoulder. With a cry he was lifted into the air by a giant birdlike creature with the head and torso of a woman. She shrieked again in triumph. "Kraaa! Delicious man! These fish will feed my children for a couple days. And you shall sate my appetite!" Immediately Eismond's body grew colder in defense, but she could barely feel it through her tough talons. The mountain eerie of her home was chilled by harsh weather. The harpy began to lift him further into the air. Her progress was slowed by the added weight of his body but she was still formidably fast. Thinking quickly he fought gravity with his free arm, fumbling about for Ice's blade. His hand closed around the pommel and with a jerking motion he drew it forth. The blade was nearly whipped away by the rush of wind, but he managed to pull it around and plunge it into the harpy's thigh. As Eismond yanked the blade back out, the birdwoman shrieked one last time and let go. He fell down a long way and crashed into the river. Immediately the current began to pull him downstream. His injured body fought the pull, making for the shore. His hands scrabbled against the jagged rock looming above his head, and with a great effort he heaved himself up. By the time his waist lay along the edge his injured shoulder gave out, shaking tremulously. There he lay after being washed downriver, half conscious and bleeding, Ice's blade still clutched grimly in his fist. The last thing he could remember seeing was the expression on Ice's face and her cold blue eyes. |
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