The Walls of Isyl-Belyrith [1 Jan] - In need of players. x_X

[Little Red Sparrow]

ŦИβ ЮЦŦβЪ ΩζŦχ Юψ ζΣχЛ~ΦβЛχЪζŦИ¤
THE OUTER CITY OF ISYL~BELYRITH.

As the last loud grate and clunk of the locking mechanism of the great gates dissapated there was a short period of silence. People had gathered about the gate, blacksmiths, tailors, schoolmasters; ordinary townsfolk. They had all heard the horn and wanted to know what was happening.

The street that they all stood on was dead straight towards the large gates that led into the old city and the palace itself. It was a shallow slope, but at the distance into the city it had reached a fair height, the palace peering over the walls at the city on its own little hill. The once flat and perfect flagstones, large and grand pieces of masonry, were warped and some jutted out at odd angles from the ground. The buildings that erupted from the ground, crowded together with little room to breathe, were mismatched in colour and looked to be made out of cheap materials. There were inns, stables, shops, workshops... Everything that was out there in the world, seemed to have been placed in Isyl-Belyrith, no matter how out of place it seemed.

Heading down towards the gate were the small, but still just as proud, first-line cavalry. The horses trotted gracefully down the soft slope, two abreast and all in step with their necks arched and reins slack. Leading the eighteen horses and their assorted knights was a slightly short looking woman, quite young yet looking rather mature in the outfit of polished armour. Her shining helmet with white horsehair as the plume sat securely in her sword hand, her short-cut, yet rather bright auburn hair tumbling about around her head.

Her gleaming white horse held its head well, despite the reins being overly slack, the plain leather hitting against the horse's whithers and neck. Its legs lifted right up as it seemed to glide through the air until skipping into a sedate walk, the lines of horses slowing to a walk almost in perfect unison.

"That's Elizabeth..." a schoolmaster breathed in amazement, standing directly behind Rachael and Chokuro's character that I don't know the name of. [x_X Please can you post up a reference in the profile section of the guild? Pwetty pease? I'll do the sparkly eyes again if you don't...]

"The b*****d-knight." a farrier corrected in a growl, before he too was corrected by a handsome young elf clad in a brightly coloured coat. An entertainer.

"No. The knight of Isyl." the young elf stated, his voice fair and even compared to the rough and weathered voice of the farrier, "And her gentle steed, Katie. Don't you know of the tales?" The old man gave a grunt and a small glare, other quiet conversations going on about them. As the troop of knights came to a halt in front of the group of civilians there was silence, the only sound was that of the horses breathing and a few snorts from some of the more lively steeds. They sensed the danger on the air.

Although the white horse standing out in the front like a sore thumb stood perfectly still, its head held slightly bowed because of the loose reins. Not even its glossy tail flicked aboutin distress or irritation. Only its ears moved about, listening to the odd sound from behind or in front, but it seemed more focused on the young woman sitting on its back. The red-haired woman cast her eyes across the assortment of people, her eyes seeming to display a deep sympathy or sadness for them. Those speckled, hazel eyes came to rest upon Rachael for more than a second, her expression seeming to change briefly out of that emotionless and cold look into one of interest, perhaps. Or even confusement, but it disappeared before it could be read by anyone around her.

"Ey!" a cry came from near the middle of the crowd, "What's going on then?!" A troublemaker, the woman quickly decided. She took a small breath to give herself the necessary confidence for dealing with the crowd that could quickly turn into a mob.

"The wind brings violence." her quiet voice stated, her hands trembling on the reins she held, happy for something to grip onto. The horse seemed to feel her distress, although she didn't show it on the outside, and its head lifted a fraction, ears concentrating on the crowd as if it had only just woken up.

"So that wind stops us from getting food?" the voice asked in a booming voice. Muttering erupted through the crowd as similar questions were asked about the shrines in the forest and the fields outside that needed tending. The woman, Elizabeth, let her eyes close and frowned, her head bowing as the situation rapidly began to change. The fine line that kept order and peace in the city was getting thinner. Tempers were getting shorter. Tolerance was all but disintergrating. And Elizabeth's headache was getting worse by the second.

Not a good day for her.

Not a good day for the walls of Isyl-Belyrith.  

[Little Red Sparrow]

{o_O Why not in the profile section to make it easier for everyone else? XD Silly.}

The elfen bard turned his head towards Scarlette with a raised brow, took a small glance towards Elizabeth, and gave Scarlette a bow, "That is what I am here for, to tell the news of the winds and the stories that come with them." he stated with his clean and melodic voice, as if he was singing. It got the attention of the people about him, including the old blacksmith.

"Ey, keep yer stories to yerself, bard. We don't need your lies here." he growled at the handsome young elf.

"My stories are based on the simple truth." the elf retaliated with a small frown, people commenting about them. Both the blacksmith and the bard were creating a scene ontop of the already building tension between the two groups.

"You say based, that means all the facts are changed around!" the old man cried, making a move towards the bard, "You're poisoning the youngsters! Poisoning their good hearts with lies! They're all lies!"

The thin layer of order broke and shattered like glass.

It was when the old blacksmith lunged at the bard, that was when the troublemakers looking for a fight joined in, directing the attack moreso onto the mounted guards. Towards Elizabeth and her horse.

"Stop this insanity!" she cried, her voice lost to the riot as the now riled up mob moved towards her and her troop, "Stop this now!" Her voice faltered, the white horse stepping backwards and away from the charging people. In a slight panic she threw her helmet onto her head and reached for her sword, although she didn't pull it out. She didn't have the time to.

It all happened quite quickly, the mob tearing Elizabeth from her horse, the mounted guards charging into the people in a futile attempt to bring back order. A few of the braver people that were against the violence tried to pull back the rioters, to stop them, but many merely fled.  

[Little Red Sparrow]

{Apolagies, but Cho is impatient and I had to move the story onward otherwise I'd lose my head.}

The crowd parted away from the flame in a blind panic, fleeing from the flames. The guard's horses, all bar one or two, reared up in fear and bolted, only a few of these managing to pull up their steeds. Elizabeth's horse didn't move much, jumping away from the flame at first before standing quietly whilst the panic evolved around it.

The child in Scarlette's arms tried to grip her clothing, trying to get away from the noise and the people fighting. The flame she had sent up into the air had seemingly only made things worse. And more people joined the fray. They were tall, clad in black with intricate patterns of deep red. The Ones of the Flame. And they were interested in Scarlette, appearing in front and all around her.

"You are one of us. Do not stop our work." the 'leader' stated in a low growl, stepping to the side slightly and gesturing a hand towards the struggle between the female knight and a group of what appeared to be civilians, "This has to happen. The Flame tells of the fall of Isyl. We are preventing it. Do not stop our work. Everyone who stands in our way will perish."  

[Little Red Sparrow]

"Have you read the flame recently, sister?" the hooded man growled, his voice changing into the low growl of a tiger, or leopard. It was then the tall leader of the black group spotted the red-head charging a single-man charge towards the knight he had been trying to dispose of. That couldn't be left alone.

"Stop her." he stated quietly, almost too quietly for Scarlette to hear - but the followers behind him did. And they moved towards the struggle instantly, gliding across the old stones.

---

The metal of the woman's armour hit the ground with a decided pang as one of the men that had been holding her arm back stumbled away from a series of hits. The noise woke Elizabeth from her daze and she almost instantly tried to get up, grateful for her unknown rescuer - it wasn't as if her troop of cavalrymen were coming back for her.

It was then, as she was attempting to get to her feet, that she lost the support of the other man beside her. Once again she fell down to the floor with the sound of metal striking stone. The man lunged at Rachael with a sturdy staff that could've been passed off as a walking stick. A metal and leather hand stopped it in it's path, however. It reached up from the ground from the knight's body - it was a wonder how she had got the hand-eye coordination with the dazed look in her eye.

At the time of being dragged from her horse she had been overwhelmed by the number of people and once someone had torn her helmet off it hadn't taken long for her to become dazed and out of it. She could look after herself now, now that her head wasn't spinning so much, although now it was beginning to throb. And the way the man was now tugging at his staff didn't help it.

Staggering, Elizabeth found herself on her feet with the staff still held firmly in a hand. Standing was possibly the worst thing that could've hapened after all of that, for that was when things went decidedly from bad to worse. The world spun around her, pulling her off balance and she fell straight forward in the direction she had been stumbling in, the staff set free. She landed at the feet of the Ones of the Flame, a hand stopping her fall to a fairly crouched position.  

[Little Red Sparrow]

Elizabeth choked as she recognised the red pattern on the bottom of the cloak. "You..." she began, but then couldn't find the right words to adress the situation. She looked a mess, bits of her armour having been torn off with the fury of the mob. Blood dribbled down from her nose, over her lips and dripping off her chin. Bruises weer already beginning to blossom across her face and her left eye remained decidedly closed. She'd looked worse, she had to admit.

Slowly she forced herself to her feet, her expression shifting to accomodate the look of rage, "Your stirring things up, aren't you." she whispered, her expression shifting once more, "Why didn't I see-"

"The time has come for you to die." the hooded figure stated bluntly, his head lifting ever so slightly as the shadowed face seemed to look towards Rachael, "Along with your protectors. You three. Leave. Now." Within an instant the men scattered, throwing fearful looks over their shoulders.

---

The ex-warrior gave a grunt at Scarlette, lifting his eyes from the book he had been reading, "Got some nerve, coming in here. Don't want any of that trouble coming in here. Leave, and take your gift with fire with you." he growled, closing his book and standing, "You might try sleeping in your own side of town. Perhaps in your temple."  

[Little Red Sparrow]

"Get out of my establishment!" the owner suddenly bellowed, thursting a pointing finger towards the door as he stood sharply. The chair scraped noisily backwards across the dusty wooden floor. "This is my building! Out! I will not have any of the type of you under my roof!"

---

What appeared to be an old man wrapped up in a worn-out brown cloak stood swaying slightly at the end of an alleyway, watching the scene. Two bright yellow canaries flitted about his shoulders, trilling away to each other.

Elizabeth staggered backwards and away from the man in fear. It was natural for her to be afraid of death - she had pictured herself growing old and dying of old age, not falling victim to a warlord and his magic.

She took a quick glance towards Rachael, briefly wondering if she had an ally. She hadn't seen her face before and didn't recognise her, although she looked too young to be in any of the guard and too mismatched to be a part of a regiment. She wouldn't question her motives, however, not yet. At this very moment she would be grateful, eternally grateful, for the help.