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[Lessing Wise]

〖N A M E〗 ⇨ Eileen Cooper

〖G E N D E R〗 ⇨ Female

〖A G E〗 ⇨ Twenty-Four

〖L I N E〗 ⇨ Hestia



Orwell's Eyes Sample

[Lessing Wise]

I N T R O D U C I N G . . .

▒ Eileen xx Cooper xx West

⇛A L I A S E S

【 Elli or West 】

⇛HAIR

【 Black 】

⇛E Y E S

【 Blue 】

⇛H E I G H T

【 Five Feet and Eight Inches 】

⇛W E I G H T

【 One Hundred and Thirty Five Pounds 】

⇛A G E

【 Twenty-Four 】

⇛G E N D E R

【 Female 】

⇛S E X U A L I T Y

【 Straight, but Mostly Uninterested 】

⇛L I N E

【 Hestia 】

⇛S K I L L S

✥ Healing: Being in the line of Hestia, Eileen has both magical and modern healing abilities.
✥ Diplomacy: Elli often acts like the mother hen of the group. Breaking up fights and settling arguments seems to be a full time job for her.
✥ Cooking: Nothing brings people together like good food.

⇛F E A R S

✖ Roller-coasters
✖ Flying
✖ Stormy Weather

⇛L I K E S

☑ Soup
☑ Summer Weather
☑ The Sound of Vinyl Records
☑ Cats

⇛D I S L I K E S

☒ People Treating Her Like a Cripple
☒ Cold
☒ Rats
☒ Uncomfortable Chairs

⇛P E R S O N A L I T Y

【 Elli West seems older then she really is. Maybe it is her injuries, maybe she has just seen too much death. Either way, she acts as a sort of older sister towards everyone else. From making sure everyone has their gear prepped before leaving on a mission, to mending their wounds when they return, she does her best to watch out for everyone. Elli is a kind and gentle woman, and prefers to avoid conflict between the family. She doesn't really have a taste for adventure anymore but, she still knows some of the tricks of the trade and is more then willing to help anyone fix equipment or prepare for missions.

Before she lost her leg, Elli had a reputation of being a "Jack of all Trades." Although she now lacks the physical component, she still has all the knowledge needed to be a competent fighter. She knows how to create weapons, fix any sort of equipment, cook, ride horses, juggle, and a ton of other practical or odd skills.

She still struggles with her disability at times. The others in the group have long since learned not to mention it, at the risk of Elli becoming sad and bitter about it. Much like many of the other Guild fighters, she occasionally has nightmares of some of the things she has seen. 】

⇛B I O G R A P H Y

【 Elli grew up with The Guild. She was her mother's only child, and therefore destined to inherit the Hestia bloodline. Her mother, a large and kind woman, taught her the typical role of the Hestia line, healing and caretaking. But, as Ellie grew older, she realized she wanted more. She saw the other Guild members go out and fight! She loved to hear them come home and listen to their adventures. Much to the concern of her mother, Elli wanted to be just like them.

When she was sixteen Ellie started to learn to fight. And, the best part was, she was actually pretty good at it! She picked up the basics of everything pretty quickly and soon earned her "Jack of all Trades" reputation. Once she turned nineteen, she took over her mother's position and started going out to experience her own adventures. She broke away from the traditional Hestia role and actually fought Gorgons. However, her lack of any real combat related supernatural abilities caught up to her. A few months after her twenty first birthday Elli was part of a very difficult Gorgon hunt. She was separated from her fellow guild members and cornered by a group of the monsters. By the time her friends found her and scared away the beasts, the Gorgons had almost mauled her to death. She lost her right leg just above the knee, a few fingers on her left hand, the sight in her left eye, and a good chunk of her sanity.

Now, two years later, she fills the same role her mother did. Injured far to badly to ever go out on missions, she provides the group with more passive needs. She heals the wounded, repairs gear, and makes sure they all have a clean and comfortable place to blow off steam in-between missions. 】

⇛M U S I C

【 ♬ The Fray. How to Save a Life. 】

⇛O T H E R

【 Being one short of the usual number of legs, Ellie needs to use a cane to get around the Guild. She has been with The Guild for five years. 】

[Lessing Wise]

Eileen West


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"At least we have comfortable chairs." Elli told herself as she twiddled her thumbs nervously.

Elli hated this feeling. She had watched the fighters leave for the city just a while ago, and now there was nothing for her to do but worry. Worrying. That's about all she felt useful for now a days. Every time she helps them prepare, sees them off, then waits around at home hoping to God everyone came back alive. The usually did, more or less anyways. 'It has been a while since anyone was seriously hurt.' She thought hopefully. But, that didn't mean she could start slacking now. She needed to make sure their infirmary was set up for any in-coming casualties. She was reluctant to get up, she had just gotten comfortable but when you have a job it is always best to just do it, rather then live in fear with it.

With a grunt, Elli pushed herself out of the left side of the living room's love seat. Pain shot up from the remainder of her leg and into her back. "Urrggk." She grabbed onto the side of the sofa and waited until the aching subsided. She was attacked three years ago. In just a few minutes the Gorgons had crippled her for the rest of her life. Now even the most basic tasks could cause blinding pain. Elli replaced the sofa with her cane and started the slow walk down to the main room of The Guild Home.

They were lucky The Guild was so wealthy. Currently, their base was located in an old English manor house. It was a beautiful place, it just had too many stairs for Elli's liking. Stairs were the only enemy she had to fight anymore. The Guild's infirmary was strategically placed right off of the entrance. Injured fighters only had to get through the door and take a left. The infirmary itself was a simple, small room, but one Elli was all to familiar with. On the left side were two comfortable twin sized beds for recovering patients. On the right, surrounded by curtains, was Miss West's operating table. It was a brutal and unfriendly thing. Made out of polished metal, it looked like something out of a bad horror movie. A lonely chair sat next to the table, for her to sit while she worked. Next to it was a cabinet filled and covered with various medical supplies, both magical and modern. She started to prep the room, filling syringes with morphine, getting a pot of hot water on the burner, all that jazz. 'Nothing to do but wait now I suppose.'

"At least we have comfortable chairs."



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[Lessing Wise]

Eileen West


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In the tradition of Hestia, all the fireplaces of the Guild's home were lit and burning strong at all times. In Elli's youth, she loved running around, bringing wood in, checking on the cracking masses of coals and wood. It gave her a feeling of excitement, knowing that she would be one of The Guild's great members one day. But now, keeping the fires burning was more to her. It gave the whole building life. It made the walls breath a warm and friendly air, welcoming exhausted fighters back into their safe haven. It gave Eileen West a purpose, a reason to get up besides needing to take more Ibuprofen. The only problem was, with her being in the state she is in, it takes a while to carry in enough wood for the day and get it to the fireplace. And The Guild Manor has six fireplaces.

The first five were more for decoration then anything. They were large, open, beautiful hearths that gave a wonderful sense of comfort and home. The problem was they only really heated the room they were in, and sometimes not even that. So, in the early nineteen hundreds a wood burner furnace was installed in the old manor home. It had its own room, a small brick area with no windows that was constantly and ridiculously hot. Elli loved it. So much so, that after her unfortunate encounter with a pack of Gorgons, she moved into it. Honestly, it was more convenient anyways. She only had to take a few steps to refill the massive metal contraption during the night. The furnace sat squarely in the middle of the room, with the hatch facing the only door to the room. Stacked next to it was a small mountain of wood, enough to keep the manor warm for about a week. Elli's "room" was behind the great metal beast. There was just enough space behind it for a twin sized bed, a small desk/drawer, and a lamp. She loved to read and the whole thing was covered in a messy pile of books and paper. Elli refilled the furnace for the third time that day and went on to check on the other, more majestic hearths throughout the manor.

"Only five more to go old girl, five more to go."

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[Lessing Wise]

His Majesty, Ulric fer Keldria

✤ xxx ✤ xxx ✤ xxx ✤

Ulric fer Keldria had never been one to take disrespect. To be perfectly frank about it, he loathed it. Especially when it came from his inferiors, like Captain Raziya. He had done quite a few things to earn the place he currently held in the world. Sure, innocent people had to die, but innocent people died anyways. 'It's just the way the world works.' Ulric thought. Whether it was war, or famine, or poverty, innocent people died. Why did it matter which way they went? Ulric had come to realize that he would be remembered as a tyrant. As an evil man. 'At least they will be alive to remember me.' Ulric thought. If Ulric had continued in the path of his father, if he had let him brother live, the kingdom would've fallen into discord. Times were hard, Ulric understood that, but he truly believed that they would be much, much worse without him. They would call him evil, true. But evil gets the hard jobs done. Evil kept the treasury full.

A part of him, a darker part perhaps, had even come to accept it. To use it to keep the common man in his place. Ulric's eyes scanned over Captain Raziya for a long minute. She couldn't leave yet, not until he had dismissed her. Or at the very least acknowledged her request speak with him. How to deal with her? He could simply let her go on thinking she was as good as he was. He could allow her to keep disrespecting him. What would be the harm in it? But the more he thought on it the more The King realized. 'If she started to disrespect me, all her men would feel the same!' No. If The King had been stronger ten years ago and simply killed that brat prince, none of this brutality would be needed. No rebellion would mean less army. A smaller army meant more food for the commoners. This insubordination, this rebellion must be put down here and now, before it escalated. 'And it must be done with a firm hand.'

"I desire to speak with you, Majesty, on matters of some urgency. Send for me at your earliest convenience." He tone implied that she was as good as he was. That she was his equal. The King took a long, deep and utterly ridiculous bow. A bow reserved only for peasants when they address a Duke or Earl or King. A sick, demented grin spread over his face, like that of a skeletons. "Of course Captain!" He bemoaned with an air of faked servitude. "I am but yours to command!" Slowly, Ulric got closer to Captain Raziya, until he was so close to her face she could smell her terrible, rancid breath. His smile only seemed to grow more.

The King waited there for a moment, looking deep into her eyes. She was a strong woman, no man would doubt that. She had hard, deep eyes. Eyes that seemed challenge him, to accuse him. Eyes that wanted to protect things she cared about. To protect this thief, perhaps. She had the soul of a lion this woman. But, so did The King. And there was only room for one lion in this pride.

Quickly, before the thief had any time to react, The King ripped her away from hands of The White Lion. The King pulled a dagger out from his belt. It was a fancy, jewel covered thing. It was a shame he was going to have to get it dirty. In one smooth, delicate motion, The King forced the blade through the back of the thief, right through her heart, the point coming out of her chest on the other side. The young thief only felt the pain for a second before The King ripped the blade out and the light left her eyes. The thief's corpse, still standing upright in between The King and Captain Raziya, sprayed blood out onto the face and armor of The White Lion.

Throwing the corpse into Raziya's arms he hissed, still with that wicked and evil smile, "If you ever, ever disrespect me again with that tone, I will find every man you have ever loved, every friend, every loved one, every person you've ever helped. Every child who has ever even looked upon your face. And I will kill them in front of you. Each. And. Every. One. Then, in a pool of their blood, I will have you drown. You will die, choking on their blood." He said all this as if it were a fact, as though he had a dungeon full of people whom she loved. That he could find them at a drop of a hat. And honestly, with the sort of power The King had, he probably could. Leaving the dead girl in her arms he said, "My my Captain. It seems our friend here has sprung a leak. You should go. Get yourself cleaned up a bit. You are dismissed." He turned, pushing past her and the new corpse to leave the treasury.

After only a few steps down the hall, while walking away from the whole nasty affair, The King called out in a wonton and carefree voice, "Oh and Captain! I have a brief meeting with a soon to be dead locksmith." The man who invented the treasury vault had given Ulric his word that it was impenetrable. The man had sworn on his life that the only way to get in, was with the key The King had. Now, he and his family would be made examples of. In the same chipper and polite voice he yelled, "After that, you may join me in the upper sitting room to discuss that, matter of some urgency you mentioned earlier." He left the treasury feeling more tired than ever. 'Heavy is the head that wears the crown.'



✤ xxx ✤ xxx ✤ xxx ✤

[Lessing Wise]

Oh yes, I know you’ve heard of me. I am King and God Ulric fer Keldria
What! How dare you think I am Fifty-Five
You fool! I am only Forty-Eight
And yes, I am clearly Male
Ah, I am a handsome devil! I Ulric fer Keldria
When smiting magical scum, I use my absorbed magical powers and a large, two handed great sword.
Impudent wretch! How dare you not know that I was the second and youngest son of the pervious Keldria king. A father must earn the love of his son, and mine failed to. But, so is the life of a second son, to always be in the shadow of one's elder brother. My brother, an arrogant and self righteous man, took over our father's kingdom when he passed from this world. The first thing our great new leader did was lower the taxes! Hurah! Gods save the King! Only one problem. Our kingdom was broke. Out of money, not a gold piece on the treasury floor. But still, he was beloved by our people and continued to be even when he drove this great country into crippling debt. I, his brother and one of the royal advisors, urged him to turn around and try to pick up the pieces, but he would not listen. I begged and begged for years until one day, I realized what I must do.

One night, when the whole castle slept, I murdered my brother in his sleep. He was a good man, albeit a stupid one, and deserved to at least die quietly and quickly. Normally his son, the prince, would've been next in line, but I didn't have the heart to end the boy's life as well. I exiled him and his sister from the kingdom never to return. After my crime against my family had been finished, I began to repair the damage my father and brother had done to this country. Taxes were elevated to an all time high, those incapable of paying were evicted from their homes and replaced by more qualified and profitable tenants. This caused an uproar in the magical community. They rebelled! I had to put it down quickly and hard. So I was cruel. And in my cruelty, I became feared. The more magical beings I killed, the more power I gained. And for a time, the rebellion stopped.

Everything is a matter of perspective. You say I am a man of great evil. I say I am a man of great necessity! This Kingdom will either thrive under my guidance, into a new era, or... We Will All Burn. Together.


Fear my awesome might! For I wield the powers of Light and Fire! And with these gifts, I will bring a new dawn unto The Kingdom!
My legacy is inscribed into history by Orwell's Eyes

[Lessing Wise]

Good day. You may call me Jon "One-Eye" Cooper. I am one of many guards in the kingdom.
I have been alive for Thirty Eight years.
Oh, really? I didn’t know that I looked About Forty or So
Well, glancing in the mirror, I see Jon Cooper
Obviously I am Male
Loyalties? Well, let’s just say I favour the Royal Family
And my weapon of choice would be Sword and Shield. But, I am also trained and experienced with spear and axe as well.

As for my past I grew up in the North. Not your pansy Kingdom north. Miles beyond that. Where it snows in the summer more often than not, and tribes of barbarians war with each other for what precious resources they had. Where looking at a man wrong could mean death, and life is as cheap as piss. My childhood? There are no children in the North. Just those big enough to fight and those small enough to run.

Well, after a brief mix up with the chiefs' daughter, I was chased from my tribe into the south. I was injured, sick, and well on my way to being a corpse when The King found me. Not the new Evil Brother, but The Real King. He and children saved my life. Went out of their way to do it. They took me to their home, a massive castle, unlike anything I had seen before. They gave me food, a place to rest my head. I will never forget their kindness.

Well, having no other real place to go, I decided to join their Guard. They saved my life maybe I could save theirs a few times. I thought it would only be for a little while, but I soon came to like the family. I stayed for the next twelve years in their service. When the princess and prince were exiled I decided to follow. Better than serving that murderous b*****d of a king anyways.

That is the reason I act like a old tough b*****d is the hand I have been dealt. I've killed a lot of men to get this far in life. Some women too. One has to be realistic. If killing others means that I get to keep on living than fine, but honestly I would rather just walk away from most fights. Easier to live that way. To my friends, the few I have anyways, I can be a decent traveling companion. I know a few songs about the good ole' North, some decent stories too. Just ask about the time I lost my eye.

The one that directs me is Orwell's Eyes

[Lessing Wise]

"One-Eye" Cooper


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'Ug. At least it's warm here.' One-Eye thought dully, walking his horse at a slow pace through the camp. The Royal Family's Guards had been on the move for years now, a decade in fact, but One-Eye had never seen a place this miserable before. 'Well, not in a while anyways.' On the outside it looked like a forest. A good place to set up camp for a while, hunt, train, and maybe even relax for a bit. But, now that they had been there a few days, One-Eye realized that most of the place was actually a stinking, ugly, and wet marsh. They had set up camp in the one somewhat dry stretch of land they could find but, they were still dealing with the nasty effects of the place. Their food was spoiling, people were getting sick, and something green had started to grow in their water barrels. Probably the humidity, but who the hell knows.' He thought, hitching his horse to a branch next to his tent. As he turned around he took a long, sweeping view of their sad little encampment.

On the outside edges were normally large holes dug for latrines, One-Eye had certainly helped to dig plenty in his time, but for this camp, the ground was to soggy for any real digging. So everyone simply did their business in the swamp surrounding their one island of dry land. Further inside the circle were stations for horses. Mostly just a few fallen branches used to hitch the animals, and a tarp to cover them from the rain. Getting closer to the center were storage areas for supplies, the tents of The Guards and the other various people who traveled with The Crown Prince, and a mess area for cooking and eating. Finally, in the center of the camp, in all its purple and gold splendor, was the Royal Tent. A massive construction of canvas and wood that doubled as both a living area and command station. Normally, there would be a large open section of the camp used for keeping The Guards in-practice with their weapons, but there wasn't enough room for that either unfortunately.

As far as he was concerned, One-Eye had done well enough with The Guards. The Prince was a good lad, as far as leaders go. Good enough in fact that One-Eye was willing to die for him if it came down to it. 'Although, I'd rather leave the dying to the enemy.' And, over the years, he had earned himself a nice little spot in their ranks. He was a Sargent now, almost all the old ones had died, either from natural causes or by the hand of The Evil King's men. Being a Sargent meant he got some extra things. More responsibility sure, but that was nothing new to One-Eye. He had led soldiers into war before and he was pretty sure he'd do it again sometime before he meets The Gods. He also received a nice tent, one with enough room to set up a desk, a chair, and his sleeping gear. The desk was more for show than anything. One-Eye could neither read nor write, the only thing he ever really did on it was fletch arrows. Sometimes sharpen the odd knife or too as well.

He was just about to turn in for a brief nap when he saw a stout man, Lieutenant Jezal walking briskly towards him. He was an odd man, Lieutenant Jezal. At first glance a fighting man such as One-Eye would take him for nothing but a fat slob of an officer, incompetent at anything but drinking, and ridged in the ways of rank and formality. His officer's uniform was always clean and pristine. But, One-Eye had seen the man fight. He fought with a greatsword almost as big as he was, cut unarmored men clean in half. In a way, Jezal was one of the few officers here One-Eye respected at all. "Sargent Cooper!" The overweight man barked. "Aye Sir?" One=Eye saluted him then stood at attention, both hands behind his back. "Command wants us to get out of this damned swamp. Take one of your men and head north a ways. See if you can find someplace better than...this." The Lieutenant said waving at their sorry camp. "Aye Sir." One-Eye replied. Just like that his superior strode off, the tassels of his uniform flying every which way.

"Well, there goes my nap then." He muttered to himself as he began to dig through his chest for his gear. It was a rather strange looking set of armor, mostly stuff One-Eye brought with him from The North. Hardened leather, with the odd bit of steel plate on the shoulders, chest and back. It had gotten him through more fights than he could remember and certainly showed for it. He set the gear aside noticed some clothing sitting at the bottom of the chest. His uniform. He hadn't worn the miserable thing since the new king took over. It didn't really serve much of a purpose. It was neither warm nor protective. 'But these Kingdom folk have a weird way of doing things, I suppose.' His soldiers certainly never wore theirs either.

One-Eye was the sergeant of the more strange soldiers. His unit was comprised of the thugs, adventurers, and the general vagabond that The Guard had picked up along the way. One-Eye almost preferred it that way. They were his people, not much like the fancy kingdom folk. Which is why it surprised the hell out of him when Cassandra Darim was assigned to his unit. From everything One-Eye could see, she was a proper lady. Well, a proper lady with a knack for swordsmanship. One-Eye was supposed to train her in the ways of war. He thought about taking his horse for this scouting expedition, but with the marsh as bad as it is, he figured he should walk instead. He grabbed his gear and went in search for the young, would-be warrior.


"Cassandra. Girl! Get out here! We got work that needs doing."
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[Lessing Wise]

Eileen West


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Something bitter flashed through Elli's mind at the mention of Gorgons. Something dark and wet and evil. A memory of an alley way. Of what they looked like. "Gorgons are never out of the way, my dear." She said quietly, "We kill some of them, they kill some of us. It just goes on and on." Elli smiled and handed Satina the empty basket and gently shrugged. "But so is life." Elli started to limp towards the shed, her cane making a gentle clicking sound against the floor. "Well, our lives anyways. The shed is this way, by the way." She said in a friendly tone. It was actually back through the kitchen, which was convenient as Elli had some coffee to make. It actually seemed like a good idea. 'God knows I could use a cup.' She had slept like garbage the last few nights. Didn't have the foggiest idea why. Could be the searing pain every time she rolled over. Could be the stress lately. 'Who knows anymore? Not me that's for sure.' She chuckled a bit.

The kitchen was a wonderful thing here. Elli spent a good chunk of her day here, more often than not. It was a perfect combination of modern technology and old world style. The espresso machine was probably the best in the area, although it had taken Elli a few years to truly master it. "The shed it right through there." She said motioning to the back door. "Down the path, the wood pile is on the left side. Just fill up the basket and bring it back here. Everything should be cut already, I had one of the others do that last week." She opened a sack full of coffee beans and started to measure them out. "By the time you get back I should have everything all set up." Smiling she asked, "Do you take sugar or cream?"






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[Lessing Wise]

"One-Eye" Cooper


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One-Eye had been training Cassandra to be a Guard for the last year now, and the girl still called him sir. Like he was some ponce of an officer, walking around in a sharp Royal City uniform. Amused, One-Eye snorted at the thought. The only piece of his uniform he ever wore was his Sergeant's barrette, a unless saggy hat thing that for some reason the other sergeants wore. Just like the rest of the uniform, it had no real function except, perhaps, to get him killed. But, command was adamant that he wore at least that while out in the field. So he put up with it. He was miserable. But he put up with it.

"Aye, we got work to do. Command wants us to head North for a ways. Try and find some dry ground to camp on." He said, fixing his gear into place. He slid his shield onto his back, into the more comfortable traveling position. Although it would be more functional to wear it on his arm, One-Eye wasn't about to go slogging through the woods with only one free hand to catch himself for when he fell on his face. Besides, the chance of actually seeing action out here, in the middle of no where, was slim to none anyways. "So get your gear ready, we are traveling light. Weapons and gear only. We shouldn't be gone for more than a few hours." One-Eye told Cassandra "And for the hundredth time girl, cut that sir bullshit." He barked at his well mannered apprentice.

She came from a noble family, all etiquette and finery. A year ago, when One-Eye was told he was supposed to teach her how to be a warrior, he thought they were joking with him. The girl looked like she could barely hold a butter knife, let alone a sword. He thought Cassandra was going to be gone after the first day of real work but, much to One-Eye's surprise, she had stayed. And not only did she stay, she wasn't totally useless. She wasn't afraid of doing the random, dirty jobs soldiering often required. Such as digging latrines or stitching up the wounded, and she already had some formal training. So much training in-fact that the only other person who could keep up with her in sparring anymore was One-Eye himself. It had become a new hobby of One-Eye's lately, watching Cassandra beat the tar out of the other members of their unit. Thugs and mercenaries twice her size. She would be an excellent swordsman one day alright. 'Well, assuming she isn't killed by this god-forsaken marsh! The sooner we get out of here the better.'

A few minutes later, when the two of them were just leaving the camp, One-Eye was telling a story as they walked. Of a warrior from The North who had fallen in love with a fae. "In The North, fae ain't just stories." One-Eye told Cassandra. Everytime they traveled he told her one tale or another. She had probably heard all of them a few hundred times by now, but he liked talking while he worked. Made the time pass more quickly. "They are part of the world! Part of nature, and an important part to. Plus, there ain't nothing meaner, and less forgiving then a pissed off snow fae." An odd looking dragonfly flew out in front of One-Eyes face. He swatted at it to shoo the pest away. "So anyways, this Northman named Sid Rock-Dropper was out dying in the cold. He was hurt ya see? Injured in a war." He said with a smile, pushing a bush out of the way of the small dear trail they were supposed to follow out north. "That war's a whole 'nother story. A good one too. So anyways, Rock-Dropper is out dying in the snow, when he crawled into a snow fae's domain. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever se-"

Out of no where. The weather turned to s**t. It had been raining a bit earlier, but nothing worse than the wet that this marsh created on its own. Now, it was a storm. Rain came down hard, pelting the camp and its inhabitants. He turned to Cassandra, "Head back to your tent, wait for this to pass, then find me ag-"

"You trespass in Fey territory, humans." A feminine voice said behind him. One-Eye had just enough time to identify the source of the voice. A girl, no, a short woman facing him. Then the strange green woman leapt at One-Eye, swinging a massive blade straight at him. One-Eye, having left his shield strapped to his back like the idiot he was, had no time to get out of the way of the insanely fast moving blade. Instinctively, he turned the think metal shoulder plates of his armor towards where the green woman's blow would land. It hit One-Eye like a two ton boulder falling from the sky. All the wind was knocked from his lungs. His ears were ringing from the deafening screech of her blade to his armor. Not sure if he was dead or alive, One-Eye simply tried to suck air into his clenching lungs.

In that fleeting, breathless, and agonizingly painful moment, One-Eye got a good look at the woman as her weapon recoiled off of what One-Eye hoped wasn't his now broken body. She wasn't a woman at woman at all. Yes, she had the shape of a human, but she was far from that. 'She is Fey.' And if what she said was true, they had barged right into her home. 'Oh Gods, what have we done.'

When he was still a young lad up in The North, One-Eye had a few encounters with Snow Fey. He had even helped one in particular, a troublesome and mischievous Fey that called himself Shia' Mel Ik, protect his home from a tribe looking to pillage its forest in the tundra. Although, in his time in the south he had noticed that the world was different down here. There was less magic. Less Fey. In the North time stood still. People came and went, but nothing really changed. This was the first Fey he had seen at all in his time in the south.


"Friendly." One-Eye managed to croak, the wind and rain still pounding into his armor and skin. "Friend of Fey." He said, almost at a whisper, motioning to himself by hitting his armor with a balled up fist.
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[Lessing Wise]

"One-Eye" Cooper


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Kneeling on the ground, waiting to die as he had so many times before, One-Eye thought about the rest of Rock-Dropper's story. It was an odd thing to think about, he admitted it, but a dying man had his thoughts, if nothing else. Rock-Dropper was given his name after the battle of Mayback hill. One-Eye was just a boy back then. So young that he hadn't earned his Name yet. So young that he was still tugging at his mother's dress. His father though, he had fought alongside Rock-Dropper in that battle. When he returned home his family, he told One-Eye and his siblings about the great strength of Rock-Dropper.

In Northern tradition a baby is only given one name by his family. Common names like Kurt, Logen, or Cooper. As the child gets older, they have an opportunity to earn another Name. It could be anything that the tribe thinks is good. A funny Name from some slip up the warrior made. A serious Name from how the well a warrior fought in a battle. Or even a Name from a serious injury the warrior took. Before Rock-Dropper had his Name, he was called Collum by his tribe and family. At the battle of Mayback hill, Collum fought alongside countless Named Men and Women, trying to defend a small and battered fort. The small group had fought well, but they were so outnumbered that soon, the enemy began to make it over their walls. Collum fought like a demon. He pushed the enemy right back over the walls, and then, much to everyone's surprise, he jumped over the wall to chase after them. His father and the other defending warriors did their best to cover the man with bows but it was the Collum's fighting ability and sheer strength that kept him alive. He fought until he got to the lip of the hill, where a bunch of great rocks, nay. A great boulders sat. With the strength of ten Named Men, Collum pushed the boulder off of the earth. The Gods took care of the rest. The boulder rolled down the hill, smashed through the enemy camp, killed a dozen men, and only stopped when it crushed a stable filled with horses. Rock-Dropper continued until the camp was nothing but ruin s, his father had told One-Eye. 'But who knows. Stories often get a bit exaggerated, in the North.' The Gods know the story of how he lost his eye certainly was.

Years later, while he was still Cooper. Still a young man trying to earn a Name in war. One-Eye had heard another story of Rock-Dropper. The great Named Man was injured, trying to crawl back from a skirmish his tribe had lost, when he wandered into a Snow Fey's territory. When she revealed herself to him, in all her fury, Rock-Dropper thought he was going to die. He begged the Fey not to kill him, and offered a story in exchange for his life. Seeing that the man was no threat, the Fey agreed. Well, Rock-Dropper told her a story, and then another, then another after that. The Fey, so amused by his tales, healed the human so he could keep telling her more stories. And he did, all the stories he knew and then some, over many seasons. Over that time, Rock-Dropper fell in love with the Fey, and some say she even loved him back. He wanted to live out the rest of his life with the beautiful creature. But alas, it was not in the God's plan for them. Her time on this world ended and she went back to the snow she came from. Rock-Dropper, lost in grief, took his own life not long after. A miserable, sad story now that One-Eye thought of it. 'But a good one.' He thought, 'Certainly a good enough one to die with.' One-Eye waited for the end. For the Fey to deliver the killing blow. But, it never came.

One- Eye open his eye again to see Cassandra standing over him. Defending him. 'Damn, girl has a bigger pair of fruits than I do.' The Fey, perhaps scared by Cassandra, more likely just feeling merciful, had backed up a few strides.

"Why are you here?" The beautiful woman yelled, the thunder booming ominously with her voice. 'So there is a chance we walk out of here after all. Well, no time for patty cake One-Eye' He thought as he slowly stood up. 'Woman wants to talk, best we talk to her.' Pain shot up through his chest as he rose. Hopefully nothing was broken His armor certainly wasn't in the best of shape, although it hadn't really been well off before today anyways. A new, deep gouge was etched into the center of his shoulder guard. He must had gotten lucky, he had seen blows like that cut clean through armor before.

One-Eye took a deep breath, to test his lungs and make his head stop spinning. Then another one so he could speak. "We mean you no harm." he said, his voice still a bit shaky and weak. "I am One-Eye, Sergeant of the Prince's guard. We came into your woods seeking shelter from our enemy. We had not known you protected the woods here. We would've never came if we had." Gently, One-Eye pushed past Cassandra so he could show the Fey the respect she deserved. "If you'll allow us, we'll leave here and tell others never to enter your home again."
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[Lessing Wise]

wahmbulance

"One-Eye" Cooper


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"No." The Fey told One-Eye and the other campers in the marsh. "I don't think I'll be letting any of you return." She shrunk down to the size of a bug, a small bug at that, jumped onto a dragonfly and flew away. 'Well that was unexpected.' One One-Eye thought as he fell back onto his a**. His chest was still throbbing from where the tiny woman had tried to kill him with a claymore. "Ug. Well that was a first." He grunted to nobody in particular. He began to take off his armor to check how bad the damage was. He could still move both his arms with relative comfort, so probably nothing broke.

While undressing his top half, One-Eye thought about the brief, but brutal encounter they had with the Fey. Most of him was glad she was gone. After all, there were few quicker ways to die than piss off one of those creatures. But some small part of him rather wish she had stayed. 'What is wrong with you man.' He thought, unclipping his newly dented shoulder plate. 'She tried to kill you. With a greatsword no less.' But it had been a while since One-Eye had seen a woman. Sure, there were Cassandra and the Princess. But it was strange to think of them in that way. Not just strange but wrong. They were more like little sisters or even daughters to him. But that Fey, she looked more One-Eye's age. Not so much by her appearance, but by the way she carried herself. Like she was experienced in life, like she had scares. One-Eye always like woman with scares. Means they might understand what life is really like. How hard and cruel it could be to in this world alone. But then again, One-Eye was rarely a man for feelings. And he and Cassandra still had work that needed doing.

Now that he was shirtless One-Eye had a chance to examine the wound, which surprisingly, wasn't all that bad. 'She must've weighed a feather.' He thought. Any other fighter would've most likely killed him with a blow like that, armor or no armor. He had a massive bruise that trailed from his left shoulder to his right n****e, but all things considered One-Eye had gotten off lucky of this one. He tried to get back unto his feet but failed at the first attempt. "Can you walk? Do you need my arm?" Cassandra had offered, still looking pissed as a mother hen robbed of her morning egg. Gratefully, One-Eye grabbed her arm and pulled himself back up. He wished that he could just return to camp, like Cassandra had said, but One-Eye knew it wasn't going to happen.

"Wish we could lass." He said, quickly redressing himself. "But orders are orders. The camp still needs a safe way to get out of this marsh. Preferably one that doesn't lead us straight into a legion of The King's finest soldiers." One-Eye stopped dressing long enough to spit at the mention of Ulric fer Keldria. "Besides, we gave our word to The Fey that would we be out of here soon. The sooner the camp has a safe path, the sooner we can get out of this hell hole of a marsh."

While redressing, One-Eye briefly thought about the Prince. It was odd, not seeing the boy around anywhere. 'Or hearing him play that bloody awful instrument of his.' But, One-Eye wasn't too worried. The boy knew how to handle himself in a fight well enough, One-Eye had taught the lad himself, and frankly, One-Eye had work that needed doing. The boy prince and his games could wait.

Back to full armor, One-Eye quickly went over his equipment again. His armor was good, or as good as it was going to get anyways. He hadn't even un-sheathed his sword in all that time, so it was still good. He replaced his shield, this time letting it sit on his arm rather than being unless on his back. Lastly he checked his knives. Little two inch boot blades to the foot long curved elfish dagger, he had a lot of knives. In his line of work, One-Eye had come to realize that a warrior can never have too many knives.

"Ok girl. Get your gear set and follow me. We're going north up the dear trail." He paused pointing to the almost invisible line in the mud. "Hopefully that will take us to some dry section of the woods. One that doesn't have a Fey." He said with just a hint of reluctance in his voice. Enemy or no, a part of him would miss that yellow eyed lass.

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[Lessing Wise]

"One-Eye" Cooper


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One-Eye fixed his barrette while the two of them walked single file up the dear path. It was a rather weak trail. A combination of the marsh and the dear dying out had reduced it to nothing more than some broken branches and the occasional hoof print or two. "Are you certain you can go on?" Cassandra had asked him earlier. He just smiled at her, to put on a bigger set of confidence than he actually had. Sure, he had fought injured before. It wasn't ever very fun. But he had done it before. 'Hopefully it won't come to that today.' He thought, pushing his armored legs through a thorn push.

"You know, you never did finish that story." Cassandra said, doing something that almost looked like a smile. 'The girl never smiles. Besides, she must've heard this one before.' One-Eye shrugged. If the girl wanted to hear it, who was he to say no. That is how stories survived after all, and Rock-Dropper's was certainly one worth telling.

So, continuing their trip north at a slow, but steady pace through the marsh, One-Eye told the story of Rock-Dropper. "Well, when I was just a n** of a pup, still running around with my ma everywhere, my Pa told me a story of the great warrior Rock-Dropper..." One-Eye continued with the story. He told Cassandra how the man had earned his name, and single handedly crushed an army. One-Eye told her about the injuries he had sustained in a battle, how would've died without the kindness of the Fey. And lastly, he told her of the epic romance. between Rock-Dropper and his lover. How, in the end, the great warrior was so in love that he would've rather taken his own life than be without her.

One-Eye shrugged, "But so is love. Makes people do all sorts of stupid things." The ground was getting slightly dryer, but they were still in the marsh. 'Still in the Fey's territory for one thing. And this bloody ground is still to muddy to set up a real camp.' Not much longer though, and they would be in the forest of the old elfish kingdom. Not exactly a safe place, but it would be better than their current situation.

They still had a good distance left to travel though, so One-Eye resumed the conversation with Cassandra. "So where you from girl? Command said from some prissy-rich family up north." He chuckled at the thought. It had taken him a while to get used to using a fork to eat, let alone have any sort of manners. In the North, a chief would have various animals on spits cooking in a longhouse. Once they were all cooked, everyone would simply cut pieces off what ever animal they wanted, let the grease run down their hands. Any fat or gristle a warrior found would be thrown on the floor for the dogs. If a dog got in the way, a good kick would ensure it never made the same mistake again. As for table manners, there weren't much of them either. Sure, the chief was always the first one to cut into the meat but that was about it. If there even were any tables or benches, they were simple in design. Usually a few tree trunks that were dragged into the long house. Aye, it was a simpler life. One that One-Eye often missed.

"So what, you from some border mountain village or something? Claypool?" He guessed, "Or maybe Verrahan?" He asked. Claypool was a small village, a former fort really, in the middle of the border mountains. One-Eye had been there once or twice in his adventurous youth. The village was self sustainable, as it farmed a few of the small valleys below. The actual town itself was up on the mountains. 'One thousands steps.' He remembered fondly. He had no idea if it was true or not. One-Eye couldn't count past a hundred anyways. He was a warrior, not a bloody fancy scholar. Verrahan was a large village that Northmen often used for trading. It was just north and west of the Great Western Pass. Beat up little town, but lots of good memories there as well.

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[Lessing Wise]

"One-Eye" Cooper


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They had made it a good ways away from the camp at this point. At least two miles, hopefully they would be out of the worst of them marsh soon. He turned his head so he could better hear Cassandra's story. It was the first time he had ever heard the girl talk about herself for more than a second. "He was a Northerner," The girl had said, while talking about her father. "Farther north than the village I grew up in, though." That grabbed One-Eye's attention. 'A Northman?' He thought, shooting the girl an odd look. 'Maybe that's where this girl gets her balls from.' One-Eye wondered if the man was Named Man. An old retired warrior maybe? Or perhaps he was smart and got out as a boy. Started a good life for himself. No death, or killing. Part of One-Eye dreamed about that. 'If I had run away earlier. Got myself married, had a few kids maybe. Could'a been a farmer maybe.' He checked himself right there though. He didn't know anything about farming, or anything really. Except killing and soldiering. That was his life, that was his trade.

He heard her mention Telon. "Telon? Well s**t, I know Telon!" One-Eye said with a chuckle. "One of my brothers lived there for a while. Ugly Gods-Forsaken b*****d, he was." He said, still smiling. "Well, until they had him hanged anyways. Murdered a woman or something like that. Who knows?" One-Eye shrugged. He had never been all that close with his family. Hadn't seen either one of his parents since he was twelve and went off to war. Hadn't seen any of his sibling much after that neither. That's just how families were in the North, he supposed.

"Maybe you know the great northern trade city of Gorrekstead?" He began, about to launch into another one of his stories. "Well, when I was just a wee la-" One-Eye stopped. He could hear a voice up ahead of them, beyond a slight ridge in the ground. They were too far away from camp, it couldn't be any one of theirs. They were too far away from the road for it to be travelers or merchants. 'Elves maybe?' One-Eye thought hopefully. They were close enough to the beginning of the Great Elf woods now. The ground was getting to be dry and the trees more abundant. Regardless of who is was, One-Eye knew that they needed to approach the situation with caution.

He glanced at Cassandra and pressed a single finger to his lips. They needed to be silent. Crouching, and moving very slowly, One-Eye made it the to lip of the ridge and just glanced over the edge, as a good scout should. 'Aww s**t.' He thought. 'They ain't elves.' There were three soldiers camped around a small fire, using the ridge to cover the light of it. Aye, three soldiers. Wearing the colors and armor of The New King.

Two younger boys, both around the age of twenty or so, in light, leather armor. One with spear, the other with bow. The one in the middle appeared to be their Sergeant. He wore much heavier armor, and a hood to cover his face. From all the dents and scratches in his armor, he appeared to be quite the experienced fighter. Moving slowly, he crawled back to wear Cassandra was. Whispering, so quietly only the girl and he could hear, "Three Scouts from the king. We gotta kill 'em." He told her as calm as he could. "They could find our camp otherwise, if they haven't already." He looked the girl deep in the eyes, hoping to the Gods she had the resolve to do the work that was going to need doing in just a few minutes. He thought about running away, but that would be even worse. Not only would the scouts hear their retreat, but One-Eye and Cassandra would lead them right back to their camp. 'No,' One-Eye thought, 'This is how it's gotta be.'

"We're outnumbered by one,"he explained to her, still in a whisper. "A bowman, a spearman, and a Sergeant with axe and shield. They got the numbers, but we got surprise and we got the better ground." One-Eye said motioning to the ridge. "So here's the plan girl. I could take two of 'em maybe, but not a chance for all three. So I'm gunna need you. I am going to move around the ridge here, so I can come out of the bushes right bloody next to them. You're gunna stay here, then come over the ridge when you hear me come out of them bushes. Your job is the boy with the spear. I'll take care of the others. They should all be facin' me though so you should be able to take him in the back. No fuss no muss." One-Eye, feeling a bit nervous as he always did before a fight, took a deep breath to calm himself a bit. "It should all be over in a second, with luck on our side."

He went over his gear quietly, making sure there would be no slip ups. He slowly drew his sword from his belt and tightly fastened his shield to his arm. He glanced up at Cassandra. "Remember girl, kill the lad with the spear. He's yours." He grabbed her shoulder with a serious and somewhat caring look, "Fight well girl, and good luck." With that One-Eye stalked over, silent as a mouse, and into the bush around the edge of their enemies little camp.

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