Welcome to Elenlond! |
| THE IMPORTANT STUFF
A good place to start... Rules Encyclopedia Additional Info Book of Lore Tutorial: Abilities Profile Skeleton Compendium FAQ Who's Who...? Evona (admin) Yorishine (mod) Sphynx (mod) Andromalius (mod) Guess (mod) |
10.26.09
08.24.09
08.15.09
|
BREAK IT DOWN
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.
|
| 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: |
| By a route obscure and lonely; haunted by ill angels only, [Valerian] | |
|---|---|
| Topic Started: Oct 17 2009, 06:26 PM (42 Views) | |
| Ashes | Oct 17 2009, 06:26 PM Post #1 |
 
|
It was raining out, the storm's rage splitting the sky in halves and quarters while thunder clattered. The road was slick with mud and the horses in their stables all were restless, tossing their heads and calling to one another. The inn itself was full to bursting with travelers no longer willing to brave the rain. The man who entered seemed to be the spirit of the storm itself, with his cloak billowing out behind him. He dropped his hood to show chin length black hair and smoldering liquid gold eyes, at the place over his pulse mark on the right side of his neck by his jaw was a peculiar little mark in the shape of a perfect inverted cross. His pale face turned, eying all those around as he chose his seat, pale features delicate, almost effeminate were it not for the powerful sense of authority his presence held. His original plans were unknown, opening his mouth, showing elongated fangs before his eyes caught on something else and he closed it. The whole place was filled to bursting, all clamoring to sit close to the fire, listening to a bard tell a tale about a mouse and a lion. “Kain, are you sure this is the place you wish to stay?” It was his advisor, a portly man built rather like a turtle. Kain chuckled inwardly at the thought, as it was, the bald fat man had dressed in green and it made the image even more believable. “Yes,” he said in an elegant smooth voice, obviously quite the charismatic man. The barmaid blushed and looked away. Kain turned back to what had caught his eyes before and stood, moving closer to the figure in the corner. He stood over him, head tilted slightly as he eyed the boy. Red haired and hungry looking, he slid into the arm chair next to him with a cat's grace and wove his fingers in front of himself. He offered the boy a good natured smile, “Hello. I'm Kain, who're you?” The day looked more like night thanks to the almost black clouds that covered the sky and spat lightening at the earth. The rain fell hard and cold like the killing blow of a knife, and the wind chased its tale through the standing stone set so perfectly in the center of the green valley. Outside, in the den of the storm stood the infamous palace rat of Kinaldi, her hair, currently black, clinging to her face as she sat outside, atop one of the many horizontally laid stones, Her legs, glad in dark green pants slung low on her hips, were crossed in front of her. She was used to sea storms from her time living as a youth on the beach of Angkar, living in disheveled shack, and though the rain bit her skin, nothing could move her from her perch, too far gone to thought as she gazed out over the green. There was something painfully familiar about this place she sat, upper half clothed in a black band around her bust, with a black, leopard pelt lined cloaked hung loosely from her shoulders. She couldn't quite pin it, like trying to remember a dream the next day it just kept eluding her. Many things in Morrim had carried that sense of deja vu, center old buildings, like the library that she took her tutoring lessons in... She shook her head, wet hair falling in her eyes. And then there was that odd little fact that just this morning she had woken from sleep walking to find herself perched on the edge of her window sill, looking down and poised to jump. What was it about her sleeping self that seemed so eager to die? Jayn or some unfortunate other clerk of the palace had to almost every night wake her and send her back to bed as her unconscious form roamed the castle. Often times they had found her standing in front of the statue of the woman she so resembled. If she resembled her mother though, though her statue and eyes, there was definitely a resemblance to her father Kain. In the shape of her eyes and the fire they held, as well as the fangs in her mouth. She had never known her parents, but if she had she'd have to say that no matter what color her hair turned she was a perfect union of their features. Her fingers slid up and touched the birthmark on the neck, the tiny inverted cross, no bigger than the nail on her pinky, and wondered vaguely if it was the blood symbol of some parent she could not remember, and thus, had never really known. She had pitched a tent in the middle of all the stones before the wind had started, noticing the storm clouds. Still, since the gale had started she had yet to take shelter, far too wrapped up in her own puzzle of a mind. [suckfest -_-] Edited by Ashes, Oct 17 2009, 06:30 PM.
|
| Offline · Profile | "Quote" · Top^ |
| Valerian | Oct 25 2009, 11:22 AM Post #2 |
VAL THE EMO VAMPIRE....ERR, HUMAN.
|
They say a person is molded by experience, influenced by those that surround them, shaped into miniature versions of those they loved the best. Usually these role models are family, linked together by ties of blood and affection. The strong father, the compassionate mother...everything a child needed was there, in their arms and heart. For Valerian, though, that had never been the case. His father had been a man wholly absent in his life, who showed up perhaps once year if even that to shower to family - namely, his five little girls - with silks and satins and pearls and spices before vanishing once more, to the sea that was his true mistress, no matter how much he might have claimed otherwise. Physically, Valerian had resembled his father, with the same tall stature and fine red hair, but that was where the resemblance had stopped. Mentally, spiritually, he was nothing like either of the two that had mixed their blood and genes to create him. He should have been, by the laws of genetics, and probably would have been had either of the two seen fit to gift him with some of their precious attention, but as it was, the person who'd had the greatest impact on his life was a person he'd not seen for quite some time now. Kain had been a mentor, the closest thing the young vampire had had to a friend back in the days when his diet had consisted of blood and nothing else. It had been for that same reason the two had met, in that inn on a stormy night. The lack of restraint and starvation had left the redhead rather short of temper, and he'd snarled at the poised man who'd approached him, unwilling to admit to his own weakness. Not out of anger or hatred, but fear, a fear that whatever it was that he had become would quickly consume him. But Kain had been patient, inhumanly so, treating him with neither pity nor disdain but an equality the younger vampire surely hadn't deserved. He'd taken Valerian on, almost as a charge or perhaps a project, determined to teach him the basics of vampire life, though there was nothing that bound him to the role, demanded he do so. There'd been no demanding of payment for his services, no violence or threats used to make the redhead obey, just a silent assumption that Valerian would heed his words simply because they were right. And he had, slowly warming up to the man and developing a healthy dose of appreciation and admiration for him. Kain was the first person he'd given his trust to, and he'd been well-rewarded for it....for a time. Then he'd disappeared, vanished into thin air never to return, and Valerian had felt just a touch of betrayal at that action. The one person he'd trusted had left him without so much as a single word, and though there was always a good reason for everything, it had felt too much like abandonment, another person saying they didn't want him, didn't care about him. Valerian had never voiced the fact, but he'd needed Kain, far more than he'd been willing to admit. Especially now, with his life at a crossroads and him with no idea of what the best course of action would be. He needed desperately that advice Kain had always been so ready to give, but all he had were his own opinions and judgments, which now seemed to be not enough. It left him lost and confused, a puppet wandering the countryside of a place called Morrim, with no idea of where to begin seeking what it was he so desperately sought. He'd been here...what, several weeks now, and not once had he seen anything that might be deemed as familiar. That fact had left him frustrated and more despondent than ever, causing him to forgo the company of other humans and flee instead to the wilderness, where he could brood and seethe in peace. Except, things didn't ever work out that way. At least, never for him. There was a figure already present in the small outcropping he'd directed himself to, unaware of his approach. Valerian had been tempted to turn away and seek solace somewhere else, but there was a whiff of familiarity that hung around this girl, that rooted him to the spot and demanded he carefully look her over. Inky black hair, slim stature...they contributed to an eerie sense of deja vu, but it was the tiny mark at the side of her neck that captivated him, made him wish to know more about this girl, whose ties to Kain were probably stronger than his. "You look like your father." |
| Offline · Profile | "Quote" · Top^ |
| 1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous) | |
| « Previous Topic · Alastrine Valley · Next Topic » |
