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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: |
| Sing Me Another Lullaby; [Reserved for Andromalius] | |
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| Topic Started: Nov 1 2009, 10:19 PM (44 Views) | |
| MidnightShadow | Nov 1 2009, 10:19 PM Post #1 |
If she were warm and fuzzy she'd be a kitten
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The blue-tipped wings of a parrot-like bird glinted in the hot Ashokan sun; the avian began to make a quick descent as it neared the ruined city of Eldahar. It was slowly being rebuilt, coming out of that one destructive day that had nearly obliterated its very existence. That day, as most of the city's former citizens would attest to, would be a permanent stamp in Ashoka's history and, indeed, the history of Soare and, possibly, the two continents and the scattering islands collectively known as Elenlond, as well. Of Morrim and Ashoka, the two countries that had been commandeered by a man known simply as the Emperor of Morrim, the latter had fared far worse. The man would inevitably turn his sights southward, to Soto eventually. She could only hope that when he did he could either be stopped or, if not, that the country was not ravaged like Eldahar had been. As the shapeshifter reached the dry dirt roads, she allowed the power that was her birthright to grip her in its familiar and comforting embrace; in a matter of moments the bird had become a woman, short in stature, with long dark hair that hung about her shoulders limply, no wind to stir it in this gods-forsaken desert. She felt the sweat roll down the sides of her face, felt it accumulate along the nape of her neck to trickle down her back. Despite her youthful appearance, the young woman looked tired and worn. Eyes, still a little swollen from the near-constant bouts of crying that she had experienced over the past week or two - she had lost almost all track of time since that sunny afternoon - she looked much older than she actually was, even going so far as to carry herself not like a proud woman armed to the teeth, but someone who had endured a heavy loss. The thing was, she had. Shadow breathed out a heavy sigh. For a moment she shielded her eyes against the sun, scanning the ruins that had once stood to be proud buildings. It wasn't the civilian structures that she was interested in, though, and that became apparent as she followed the uneven streets towards the ruined palace in the distance. Even from the city gates one could see what had once been a towering structure demolished, missing half of its one side, with obvious gaps scattered throughout. She hadn't come to Eldahar to survey the damages - there had been plenty of tales from various messengers, runners, travellers, and fugitives - but to look for more recruits towards the cause that she and Razarod had begun to build together. They had quite a few at the present time, but they wouldn't be enough. As much as she hated to admit it, they needed more. As she passed by houses, inns, a bank, stores, and a local jailhouse, she watched people slowly picking up the pieces of their lives, even though those lives had been destroyed weeks ago. To accompany the overwhelming sadness that had already taken her heart in a vice, Shadow felt another wave of melancholy roll over her, felt it move with her shoulders to settle as another burden upon them. Absently, she fiddled with her left ring finger, where a gold band had once sat. How many people had lost family members in the storming of Eldahar, a busy city whose only mistake was leaving an idiot like Moghul to rule? How many had fled with no time to collect their belongings, the things that nostalgically reminded them of the past? How many, she wondered, were still here, under the oppressive rule of a man named Orion, not knowing what to do or where to go? But, more importantly, how many wanted to fight back? The palace appeared before her. Standing so close, Shadow should have been more surprised to see such damage done to the building, even with heavy reconstruction efforts being employed on it, but she wasn't: this was just another aspect of war, although one couldn't really call what had happened to Eldahar a 'war', per se. Still, she watched with a growing sadness as people - children, mothers, old men, anyone who could move - sifted through rubble, carried it away, and brought new wooden beams or stone blocks and other building materials to reinforce what was still intact. Blowing out a sight, Shadow carefully picked her way around the carnage; most of the bodies had been moved, although she still saw a few limbs poking out from beneath a fallen boulder, or saw the hacked-off remains of some poor, unfortunate guard. It was a good thing that the shapeshifter happened to be almost-immune to the atrocities of war. The sight of Eldahar would have made most vomit and, for the vast majority, faint or fall into hysterics as well. Shadow stepped into what had once been the antechamber, now just stone debris. A young woman, clearly one of the ones who would have supported any new ruler coming to power within Ashoka, spotted her and almost immediately beset upon the fighter, grabbing her arm. She shook it, grinning broadly. Shadow, frustrated but too lost within the realm of her own heart to really care, turned on the girl. She opened her mouth as if to speak - probably to tell the woman to get the hell off of her before things turned ugly - but was immediately cut off. "Have you heard?!" the girl cried shrilly, her eyes alight. She wore a grimey, plain dress with a white apron over top and no shoes; her hair, black, was covered in a fine covering of sandy dust. "We have a new king! A new king has finally come to Ashoka. He came from Morrim. He's amazing. Do you know who he is? His name is-" Just then the banshee appeared, gliding down a half-exposed staircase. Shadow's emerald eyes fell upon him and she instinctively glared, hatred welling inside her chest. She shook the girl off to place her hands defensively against her daggers. When her lips parted, they uttered five syllables: "Andromalius." |
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| Andromalius | Nov 2 2009, 05:15 AM Post #2 |
King of the Sexy Guys
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"Shadow." His lips stretched ear to ear in a wolfish display as he realized the coincidental circumstance he'd wandered into. The girl from the valley, not a face he could so easily forget as their conversations had been some of his favorites. To think all along that Shadow already knew the face of her enemy, had known from the beginning. His white fingertips wrapped into the folds of his elegant black velvet cloak, lined with silver embroidery thickly laid about the hem, far different than the humble robes of before. Wrapped about his chest was a leather piece of armor, decorated similarly to a skeletal rib cage, demonic shoulder guards sharp enough to kill a man sitting above. Arms were bandaged haphazardly in torn leather strips, following into a set of gauntlets whose black metal glistened in the fading sun. His nails were the perfectly painted talons of a predator. A belt of black dragon scales held a pair of tight leather pants, its stitches bold and obvious down the outside of each leg. His feet were guarded by heavy black boots, steel toed on the outside with threads lacing them up to the top of his shins. Finally, his hair was pulled back into a high half tail, in its usual pristine condition, with the bottom half freely flowing in white waves all the way down just past his waist. He looked as if he were an entirely different entity. Still, even in all of his perfection, he could not know that this lovely acquaintance was the strongest opposition to him Soare, as of yet, had to offer. He did not know her as anyone other than the one he had so softly sang to amongst the tall, dewy grass at the foothills of the Do'Suul. Gradually, descending like a king, he arrived within the ruins of the first floor, coming to stand a few good yards from the pair of ladies as his grin had not faded one bit. The anger in her eyes was enough to tell him the story he needed to know. "Welcome to my kingdom. Have you come for an encore?" Dark eyes gazed down upon her greens in challenge, holding his head high as a methodical antagonist would. For a moment, he gave a passing glance to the girl at her side. She shrank back as the air around the Emperor was heavy and intimidating, radiating with the power he'd gained along his way to world domination. |
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| MidnightShadow | Nov 10 2009, 11:39 PM Post #3 |
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If she were warm and fuzzy she'd be a kitten
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"I'll give you an encore, you bastard." A dagger shot through the air to bury itself in what remained of the wall from whence Andromalius had come. The shapeshifter possessed a feral snarl upon her lips, and she looked genuinely vexed. It wasn't so much that she hadn't really expected this outcome - when you'd seen the world through her eyes and come to the conclusions that she had, trust and belief in the goodness of all simply did not exst - but that, perhaps, she had hoped it would have had nothing to do with him. But, of course, that day had seemed a little off, and his business... Well, she hadn't made the connection until he'd descended those stairs to stand in front of her. One more reason to nevfer let your guard down. For all of his regal appearance, for all of the servant girl's shrinking back in the face of Ashoka's new overlord, for all of his belief that he was powerful and strong and menacing, Shadow faced him with an expression that transcended anger to become the haughty grin he'd been met with in the plains. The grin that said "Go ahead, show off. You're nothing more than the scum of the earth in my eyes". She didn't give a shit if he was biggest, baddest, meanest man on the face of the planet. She'd still oppose him. "For someone who sings sweet songs and bows down to a woman he doesn't even know, you certainly have... changed your tactics, hmm? I find songs to be more befitting of you than conquest. Andromalius, why don't you sing me another lullaby?" Sarcasm dripped from her voice as she found herself warily following him, her feet shifting so that she was strafing slightly to the side. Who knew what he would do. He could try to attack her, he could try to have another pleasant conversation... For all Shadow knew, Andromalius could make an honest attempt at annhilating her. She was, after all, in a very dangerous position. It was fortunate for the warlord that most of Ashoka was a desert with only enough water for those living there. As much as the fighter would have liked to draw stores from deep within the ground, there wasn't enough, and never would be, for her to perform some of her more devestating spells. In a match of physical, hand-to-hand combat, Andromalius was almost guaranteed to win. The only real thing Shadow had as an advantage against him was that she was fast - but that didn't mean that he wasn't faster. She purged those thoughts from her mind as her eyes continued to linger on his face. She wasn't here to fight him, and she definitely wasn't here to try and honestly kill him, either. In fact, she hadn't really been looking for him at all. |
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| Andromalius | Nov 11 2009, 03:20 PM Post #4 |
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King of the Sexy Guys
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"Why Shadow, your words are lake daggers to my heart," he responded playfully, placing a hand on his chest where his heart may be before continuing down the steps. If he hadn't chosen that moment to move, the blade whipped at him may have clipped him, but it buried itself harmlessly in the wall. He did not flinch or show fear, but instead paused a step to pluck the item from the wall before reaching the bottom. From there, he met her halfway, holding the dagger out to return to her. "My tactics are circumstantial, depending on who I am dealing with. You were a different case. I felt more like entertaining you than killing you, and I don't regret it." He smiled down at her genuinely. "And I will always sing for you, Dear. You need but to ask." She couldn't know of how disappointed he was in her, to be getting so irritated without knowing the whole story. He'd been hoping that perhaps she would be one of the ones to ask him what his motivation really was, but like the rest, she most likely assumed it was entirely out of greed. "Leave," he turned and locked his sights onto the out of place girl, who gave a small 'eep' before dashing off, as ordered. The girl may like him as a new overlord, but if you lived in these lands and didn't know how to fight, you knew better than to hesitate or defy a direct order from His Majesty, lest you wish to watch your family die. He'd done it before, and it has since come to be known as the worst-case scenario, which was actually far less brutal than Andromalius's own worst-case scenario. A second later, his attention had returned to the shifter, "You must be hungry. The rations in this city don't go very far at the moment, but we're working on it. Come to the encampment. We can sit down in privacy, talk, and feed you." |
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| MidnightShadow | Nov 16 2009, 10:07 PM Post #5 |
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If she were warm and fuzzy she'd be a kitten
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Shadow hadn't expected him to be remotely afraid of that dagger; it was mostly an impulse action that she had deliberately chosen not to inhibit. As he approached her with knife in hand, she snatched it from him, scowling slightly. He was so... different from every other villian that she had met, and it threw her completely offguard, with no chance of recovery. How was she supposed to react to a man who carried himself so well, and who, rather than wanting to cut her out of the picture as soon as possible so that he had one less nuissance to deal with, was playfully telling her that he liked her enough to keep her around? And acting hospitable to his enemy? The shapeshifter stared at him for a long minute, the frown upon her visage only deepening. She gritted her teeth together, hardly noticing that her assailant had left. She didn't want to deal with this or him, but now that she was here... All things personal would have to be put aside until this transcended to those ranks and it became personal. "Very well," Shadow exhaled, averting her gaze as she sheathed her dagger. Obviously, Drake had been wrong about this entire situation. Andromalius wasn't out to murder everyone on the continent, assume command, and rule a country filled with those of his choosing. He was after conquest, certainly, and maybe it was just out of greed, but whatever the case, he wasn't pressing for unnecessary death and destruction. Anarchy and chaos weren't on his list. "Who am I to deny the kindness of my enemy?" Under normal circumstances Shadow would likely have outright refused, but she didn't feel that his words were insincere, or that they would somehow lead to her (un)timely end. Wherever he would go, she would follow in silence, head held high, once bright eyes scanning whatever she could glimpse of the city. Awareness was key here, though she knew hers had slipped just a bit. No weapons would be drawn, although her hands would be firmly set at her hips, comfortably placed against the hilts of two knives, waiting to use them should the need arise. She couldn't say that she didn't, in some ways, trust Andromalius. That thought unnerved her. When had she ever trusted the enemy? The simple answer was never. |
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| Andromalius | Nov 19 2009, 01:15 PM Post #6 |
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King of the Sexy Guys
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"Very well," he echoed, giving her a soft, lingering smile before side-stepping, leading her in the direction of the Morrim encampment. "It's not kindness, it's civility and respect," he corrected her casually, glancing over his shoulder at her. "Obviously I do believe that you are not a waste of space, and without civility, we are nothing more than animals." As long as he thought a person was interesting, or added something to the world which he thought may be a valuable asset, he would not act like anything less than an equally respectable individual, with the exception of when jealousy was involved. "This is something many don't know, nor care to hear. It was never my intention to reduce this city to rubble. I was making my own rounds through the battle, and while I was momentarily distracted, my soldiers decided to ruin everything in their wake. The palace was my doing, I admit, but it was entirely provoked. That, plus it serves as a symbol. There was method to my madness, I promise." As they walked, people along the streets would turn and bow their heads until their Emperor had passed. Eventually, the number of civilians dwindled, the number of armed soldiers in uniform rising as they approached the camp. Andromalius passed the entrance, arriving finally at a large tent where he quietly whispered to the pair of men at its entrance before stepping in, holding the tent door open for the woman behind him. "Now, I'm sure you have many questions, just as I have some for you. Food and refreshments will be brought to us." Inside of the quarters, a four posted bed was stuffed into the far back corner. A small end table made of mahogany sat beside it with a book laying open on top. A larger table, scattered with papers, was set in the center of the room, a large arm chair pulled up to it, and finally, along the opposite wall of the bed sat a bursting bookcase. Andromalius crossed, snatching up the book on the end table and clapping it shut before returning it to the shelves. It was a leatherbound, unmarked book, possibly a journal of some kind. |
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