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 Posted: Sat Sep 12, 2009 7:26 pm
Ashen Blade
Eternal
It can be said that the legends of old that spoke of the late empress and her companions have been claimed by the sands of time. Many millennia have passed since their exploits drifted about the halls of Eradon, since their enemies trembled at their approach… The records show that Empress Nevar took her leave upon the end of the Reclamation, with the kingdoms united and Kierdon being resurrected from the ashes, she simply departed. It is believed that once her kingdom was safe and in the well grounded hands of the regency council, the Keeper held no more use of the mortal realm. Though it is said that many of her companions remained, one in particular, General Khastur of the first legion became infamous for his dominating logic upon the battlefield along with the undeniable potency of his heart. His own legend soon grew in time to fill the vacancy that the Empress so recently departed, granting a great loyalty from the people of Larovia. But as with all things, change came about as the centuries passed, and once legendary names faded from all existence. Easily a millennium passed and the regency council had fallen into disarray, corruption taking seed at its very heart. Even the previous queen had anticipated that this would eventually happen, perhaps the kingdom had been fortunate that the political realm had dawdled in its eventual upheaval of the old ways. Technology soon began to take root as the previous war-machine of the Nevar clan was granted a new existance that easily surpassed anything that Reinsen Nevar had envisioned. Great airships soon crisscrossed the skies, born on enchanted wings wrought of nothing more than layered parchment. Riding upon horseback soon became obsolete as the world quickly changed as though in the blink of an eye. The first clockwork engine was created that allowed carriages to run without having to cease due to an exhausted steed, life slowly cheapened until everything once vital to life lost all value. The enigmatic working of magic soon were woven into technology as golems created out of metal and silver gears could walk and act on their own, an ultimate soldier that knew not the essence of pain nor weakness, they could trundle on for eternity, carried by the will of their master. The beasts of Eld were forced back into the aged forests to disappear before the mechanical titian that was civilization. The dragons retreated back to their homes in the mountains, many taking roost in the ruins of Anier. Legends became myth and thus fell into scattered rumors as the memories of ages past crumbled with disuse. An entire part of history; such struggles and strife suffered all for this enjoyment of peace….was forgotten and cast aside with little thought. The world had changed. That much could be certain. With this transformation of Larovia the balance of power had certainly shifted. Even history recollects in great detail the man known as Sa’biti Gaerwyn, the great and famed Regency councilman that led this magnificent revolution. It is said that he moved for power to be passed to a singular individual, testifying that the ways of the world could only be changed if wielded by the hands on one entity. And very shortly after, a new monarchy was birthed , the Gaerwyn royal line began as Sa’biti worked himself foth to the title of Emperor, a name that had not been spoken since the age of Reinsen Nevar. Thus the very essence of Larovia along with the lands surrounding it were changed. Yet it is now with the very heart of war ultimately transformed that the current Emperor has found himself with enough courage to utilize every channel available to his kingdom to retake the lands of Kierdon. And the whispers of war may prove to be enough to rouse sleeping specters brought forth from the pages of a forsaken history….
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Posted: Sat Sep 12, 2009 7:29 pm
Races Azerians : An ancient winged race that dwells deep within the forests of Kierdon. The Azerian's are a gentle people, hardly bearing a taste for war. When forced into combat their tactics are normally centered upon defense and evasion. Appearance: Once famed for their brilliant white wings the race now only sports neutral earthy hues in their once vibrant plumage. Abilities: With the fall of the old ways, the abilities of the Azerian people have become limited, the teachings of their elders now all but forgotten. Once masters of the elements, these winged entities only retain the ability to manipulate the element of wind.Lifespan: 250-550 years _______________________________  Valtera: These shape shifters of the plains were once famed for the ability to transform into any creature that they laid eyes upon, though much like the other races they stand diminished with the ascent of technology Appearance: Often seen as a very diminutive race, the Valtera do indeed share the same height has the likes of the humans, though they are often regarded as quite thin and in some cases repulsive for their spindly forms. Abilities: With the loss of the old ways, the Valtera are only able to shape shift into those they have actually touched. Lifespan: 90-150 years _______________________________  Celtarie: These once proud masters of shadows have turned towards the heart of technology in search of dominance. With this blatant turn from the ancient arts the Celtarie's skills are reduced greatly. Appearance: Normally pale in terms of skin tone the Celtarie are regarded as a beautiful yet cruel race. Often their hair color ranges between either pale white to black, never delving into more earth bound tones. Abilities: Now living at the heart of this transformation of the kingdoms, their heritage forgotten, the Celtarie are left with only the ability to "Shadow Step." This skill allows them to utilize their nearly lost art to transport themselves about using shadows. Lifespan: 650-700 years _______________________________  Nazuren:The masterful race of psychics from Kierdon have certainly witnessed the great decline of the past era. The once potent arcanists now stand with far more limited prowess within the realm of mental magic. Yet they still retain the ability to utilize the skills of telepathy. Appearance: Much like the Valtera the Nazuren are known for their slim rather bony figures. Never are they muscular or overpowering in the physical sense, for in battle they are not famed for prowess in combat but rather in the mindcasting they are known for. Abilities: With their former ability of telekinesis lost to the pages of history only the skill of telepathy remains with the Nazuren. Still it endures as a potent weapon. Lifespan: 670-720 Years _______________________________  Humans: It has been during this upheaval of the old ways that the humans have turned against their own nature in a need for preservation for they have discovered a magic of their on. Indeed their number dwindle as the Celtarie continue to force the young race into the wastelands of Trenius Sekia to endure amongst the elements. A more tribal nature has descended upon these once powerless beings as they have rediscovered their ties to the natural world and gained a new insight into their own potential. Appearance: Possibly the most variable of the humanoids, the humans come in all shapes and sizes, their height ranging from four and a half feet to over seven feet. Their hair colors normally dwell within more neutral tones, their eyes are similarly colored. Abilities: Once powerless, the human race has unlocked the elemental abilities granted through the natural world. Though their power is nearly non-existent without training the humans have come to be gifted upon birth with one of the four elements, be it water, air, fire or earth. Through training and practice the gifted human can manipulate the element they have been granted power over to their own advantage. Lifespan: 65-100 years _______________________________  Vrykolakas - These cousins of the Celtarie are one of the darker races found within the three kingdoms. The Vrykolakas are best known for their ability to practice the blood arts as they do not share the ability to move about the shadows much like the Celtarie. But their ability to not only cast spells through blood sacrifice but also to manipulate the blood within a living being in order to control their very existence makes them one of the most feared of the races. Appearance: Unlike their pale cousins that Vrykolakas are more variable in their outward appearance. Actually they best the humans in the realm of variability. Their skins can dwell within the area of pales and tans much like the rest of the races, they they are known for taking on violet and ebony hues in some cases. Their eyes are normally either a bright blue, violent or in rare cases, crimson. Abilities: This dark race hold the ability to utilize the sacrifice of blood to craft dark and cruel spell normally utilized in the bringing of plague and misfortune to their enemies. Lifespan: 550-710 years
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Posted: Sat Sep 12, 2009 7:33 pm
Map Locations ~Kingdoms~ 1. Larovia 2. Keirdon 3. Trenius Sekia Cities and Villages of Larovia 1. Eradon(Capital) 2. Telca 3. De'ris Lien 4. Celeste 5. Vladres 6. Ismeina 7. Ne'desu 8. Oruidea 9. Rydek Landmarks of Larovia 1. Ruins of Terradova 2. Tower of Dalken 3. Heriden Mountains 3. Talnea Forest 4. Eradonian Pass 5. The Ruins of Anier 6. Leu' Boedin Marsh 7. Qeu' Dari River 8. Lake Veldan ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Cities and Villages of Keirdon 1. Faltora (Capital City) 2. Meradea 3. Altera 4. Eshiro 5. Ule'dieus Landmarks of Keirdon 1. Caverns of Eska 2. Tower of Vestain 3. Aldrene Desert 4. The Dathelien Forest ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Cities and Villages of Trenius Sekia 1. Manai 2. Zerdex 3. Nikau 4. Baledon Sukiyo 5. Trenia Sekia 6. Ochu 7. Ala'ana 8. Dosk'ini 9. Ororo Landmarks of Trenius Sekia 1. The Forest of 1000 Souls 2. Tower of Truth 3. Tower of Deceit 4. Tower of Seeds 5. Tomb of the Acolytes 6. Yakayu Temple ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~Index of Locations ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Larovia ---The Talnea Forest---There is a myth, that deep within the forest that borders the city of Eradon lies a gate to the realm of the Dead. ---The Towers of Dalken and Vestain--- They are said to have been built many millennia ago. It is rumored that they are somehow tied to each other even though they are located hundreds of miles away from each other. Some have said that they were built as symbols of Larovia and Keirdon, the two kingdoms who have always been the greatest of enemies. But these are only rumors. --Anier---The once proud city of Anier was finally defeated during a massive attack that involved the combined forces of Larovia and the Ryera clan. Though the Anierians fought to the bitter end, not many have survived to tell the tale. Now all that remains of this once magnificent city is an ashen ruin, ushering the legacy of the Anierians into the fading dawn. ---Eradon--- This massive citadel of a city is where the power of the Larovian empire can be found. This city is both a center of trade as well as the main base for the Larovian forces. ---De'ris Lien--- Home of the Vrykolakas and perhaps the most powerful city in Larovia other than Eradon. It is here that the advanced form the old ways are utterly rejected. Thus those still clinging to the previous way of life flock to this dark and ultimatly dangerous city that houses the great houses of the Vrykoakas. ---Ismenia---This quaint village is the home of a clan of valtera, who live within the Heriden mountains. In days of old this very clan was charged with the safety of the Anierian royal family. Though now that Anier has fallen they have retreated back to their home village. ---Ne'Desu---This small village is the training ground of the Tel'Domeduathea, an elite group of Larovian soldiers. ---Oruidea--Oruidea was a village brought into existence more recently to serve as a base for the Larovia's eastern forces. In fact a number of the soldiers' families now reside in this village... ---Rydek--- Rydek is one of Larovia's largest centers of trade. For it is located at a crossroads of the northern half of the kingdom, granting Rydek easy access to the merchants of the river town of Vladres, as well as the traders from the citadel that is De'ris Lien. ---Vladres--- Vladres is a agricultural community that is known for little, the only thing of worth that they posses access to the Que' Dari river, which they use to irrigate their crops. ---Telca--- This mid-sized town is one of the few that has managed to avoid the war that Larovia has begun to stir up once again. ---Celeste---Celeste is one of the last of the neutral towns within Larovia. Though this is an easy decision for its residents because both the Heriden Mountains, and the Marsh of Boedin stand between them and the forces of Larovia. ----------------------- Keirdon ----------------------- ---The Aldrene Desert---It is said that in the ancient days of Keirdon an enchantment was placed upon the desert to make it impossible for one to cross it's expanse when using one's abilities,(such as the shape shifting of the Valtera and shadow dimensional travel like the Celtarie use.) It is said that this enchantment was placed upon the desert to make it much more difficult for one to venture to the Tower of Vestain where records of a prophesy concerning the Seventh War of the Denian Era is recorded (In the ancient tongue of the Azerians "Denian" means Twilight) What is contained in the prophecy is unknown to all, even the present day Azerians; the race that originally made the prophecy know nothing of its content or meaning? ---The Caverns of Eska--- These caverns are said to be named after the Warrior king Damus Eskan, the man that led Keirdon into it's first battle against Larovia. During this battle Keirdon's forces destroyed the City of Terradova. But before Keirdon was victorious, their King was badly wounded. It was said that on the march back to Keirdon, Damus Eskan nearly died from the loss of blood. So he was taken to the nearest shelter, a ring of caverns near the border, in hopes that he would heal. It was here that Damus Eskan died...and thus the caverns were named in his honor. ---The Dathelien Forest--- This forest serves as the homeland of the Azerians. Though many of this race choose to live elsewhere, those that remain true to their history and people choose to remain within the safety of this forest. ---Ule'Dieus---Ule'Dieus is the ancient city of the Azerians, both their home as well as their stronghold. It is here that they have remained, hidden from the war that now rages between Keirdon and Larovia. Many now wonder if these Azerians will emerge from hiding to aid Keirdon in this battle; to fight along side their allies once again, as Keirdon's final hour approaches... ---Meradea--- This is the city of the valtera, a place where this race of shape shifters have made their home. It is a city that relies more on knowledge than any sort of religion. Though of late this city was attacked by the Larovians, but perhaps in time it will be rebuilt, should this war finally come to its end. ---Faltora---Faltora is a massive city, who's inhabitants hail from nearly any of the races. For so long it has stood a sanctuary of peace, though it was in the last and ever so distance war between Kierdon and Larovia that this great city was taken. It is only now that the citizens have fully recovered and restored the city to its former majesty. ---Altera--- This village is primarily a place for weary travelers to rest before journeying into the Aldrene desert. It also serves as a base of sorts for the armies of Keirdon. ---Eshiro---Eshiro is a city that serves as Keirdon's only defense against whatever happens to make its way through the Forest of 1000 souls into Keirdon. Though even so, it is home to all to many foolish mages and travelers that attempt to make there way into that foreboding forest to the east . ------------------------ Trenius Sekia ------------------------ ~Manai~ One of the few cites that is neutral in the on going war to retrieve the Crystals of Ages. Located to the far east of the Kingdom, this city serves a rest stop for fatigued armies and travelers. ~Zerdex~ The City just out outside of Manai, it is known for its educational value. Here is where many races of the world will come to study the theories of life death and rebirth. ~Nikau~ The Area to the distant north of Manai, Niaku was once a thriving kingdom at the rule of the Ryujin family. Their heir lost to the tides of battle, the Kingdom now lay in ruins and serve as the gateway to the underworld. ~Baledon Sukiyo~ to the north of Larovia can you find Baledon Sukyio. The mortal enemy of the Takinowa, they created the Forest of 1000 Souls to border their Kingdom from the rest of the world. With the forest serving as their barrier, they have been free to expand their influence even further north. ~Trenia Sekia~ The home of the Takinowa empire, this city is located in the center of Trenius Sekia. The magnificence of its castle can be seen as far as Baledon Sukiyo. Ruled by Akurei Takinowa, they have established themselves as the ruling body of Trenius Sekia. ~Ochu~ located to the west of the kingdom, many people go here for shelter after passing through the forest of 1000 souls. It is known for its medicines, and earn a fine profit from trade. ~Ala'ana~ A small town south west of Zerdex. It is not known for anything special, but the Tower of Truth is housed within this village. ~Dosk'ini~ Hidden within the forest of 1000 souls, this village is home to a band of ninja called the Nether Gate. They hold no bias on the wars begin raged on the outside world, but they are commonly used as assassins and the like. ~Ororo~ Ororo is the village which protects the ruins of Nikau to the north east. They consider the land holy and will allow no one to enter. Not even the Royal family. ~The Forest of 1000 Souls~ A withered forest where the dead walked freely. Their bodies cannot be destroyed so long as their souls loom overhead. It is unknown exactly how this land was created, but it has become a barrier that keeps outsiders from entering the kingdoms of Trenius Sekia and Baledon Sukiyo. It ranges from the east of Keirdon, and stretches north to Larovia and then west, along the northern borders of Larovia. ~Tower of Truth~ This tower is said to hold the knowledge left behind by the ancient race of the Kinoc. It is located within the village of Ala'ana, but the doors will open only in the presence of the royal family. ~Tower of Deceit~ This tower can be found in several places in Trenius Sekia. Just as its name implies, rumors suspect that the towers that are present in the kingdom are illusions designed to confused those who may be searching for it. Others believe that it change location as a means to test is guests. Those who succeed in conquering the test are granted the knowledge that is contained inside. ~Tower of Seeds~ This tower is believed to hold the truth of the creation of all life in the universe. It has never been entered as its doors are not found in this realm. To learn the truth means to sacrifice ones very existence. If knowledge is power, then he who enters this tower would be come the most powerful being in all the cosmos. ~Tomb of the Acolytes~ This is the home and training ground of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse. It is located at the junction of the forest of 1000 souls. (the north east corner of the forest) Its doors will open for no one except the Horsemen. ~Yakayu Temple~ this temple is the home to the crystals of Ages. It is located to the south of Trenius Sekia, and is guarded by many beasts. It is said that one man alone has learned the secrets held within, and it is that man that rose to power as the ruler of Trenius Sekia.
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Posted: Mon Sep 21, 2009 10:16 am
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Posted: Mon Sep 21, 2009 10:20 am
Profiles Name: Raewyn Sa'drys Age: 298 years old. Race: Vrykolakas Gender: Female Weapons: Two Mithrodin Swords with black handles, the hilts of both attach to create a double-edged sword. Secondary Weapons: Rose Compass Shurikens Powers: A form of blood-bending, also blood armor Allignment: Nuetral Appearence: Raewyn has dark ebony hair that cascades down her back, often pulled back in a tight ponytail to keep out of her face. Her ivory flesh often is illuminated in the darkness that she so enjoys by the moonlight, giving her an ethereal look to herself. Bright piercing blue eyes often are the first things someone notices about her and often times, the last thing they ever see before they die. She has beautiful bone structure in her face and a small nose, pale lips are often stretched into a deadly sneer as she races head first into danger. Given her fighting nature, her body is in excellent shape, the girl choosing to often wear dark close fitting clothing for fighting purposes only, not caring much for how she looks. What good was good looks on a corpse? Covering her tender ivory flesh are various black tattoos that often shift, they run over her arms, back, and legs, her blood-bending armor. Personality: Given that Raewyn was raised as a daughter of a very prominent house, the woman has a head for leadership and believes she has the right to rule her people. Raewyn believes she is better then the lower class and certainly better then those that oppress her people, vowing to lead a rebellion against them to stop them and get back her people's freedom. She has a strong sense of right and wrong, though she is known for playing both sides of the alignment to get what she wants. She is conniving and cunning, able to manipulate others with her power or her sharp words. Very independent, the Vry will hardly accept help from anyone else, feeling that accepting help means she is weak and she can't have that. Stubborn as a dozen angry mules, Raewyn will never admit that she is wrong nor will she ever back down from a fight, even if it means her capture or death. Sarcastic to a fault, Raewyn is known for saying exactly what's on her mind no matter who she upsets, she is of the mind that whatever she has to say is vastly more important then other people's feelings and normally she is right. Slavery has done nothing to weaken Raewyn, if anything, it has strengthened her resolve to both live and destroy those who had chosen to enslave the proud daughter of the Vry. She would take revenge and when her enemies lay in ruin, she would rule her people as she believes she was born to do. Very proud but hardly honorable. _________________________________________ Name: Issildia Nevar
Age: Unknown Race: Avariera
Gender: Female Weapons: Nyththirren *Legendary blade that led to the destruction of the Veil before Issildia’s rebirth. The Keeper serves as the guardian and wielder of this utterly dangerous relic, guarding it from those that would otherwise do harm with it. Secondary Weapons: Silver kunai blades.
Powers: Animancy Details
Alignment: Neutral
Appearance: With mild olive hued skin and dark raven tresses Issildia presents an image that is unfettered with trinkets and other items that would attempt to enhance her visage. Her most startling and easily recognizable attribute are her crystalline sapphire eyes which are accented with a play of radiant hues and deep ominous shades. She is quite simple minded when it comes to her appearance, always her hair is allowed to hang freely down her back, with no additional ornamentations, and no fanciful gems adorn her neck or fingers. She is customarily adorned in an onyx tunic sewn with radiant silver threads that are arranged in an attractive pattern, accentuating her slender and lean figure. An elegant black stretch of draping material hangs about her hips to offer a lengthy sarong like manifestation that drifts about her with every movement. Lithely designed leather boots studded briefly with silver encase her legs, serving as something resembling a light form of armoring.
Biography: In the last millennia all rumor of Issildia Nevar has vanished within the mortal realm, it was after her appointing of the Regency Council of Larovia that the previous and short-lived queen departed from all knowledge. It is believed that she soon took her place within the Veil, that elusive realm that stood as a border from the land of the living and that of the dead. Here she remained as a silent specter, constantly serving as the guardian of the balance, turning away rogue necromancers that wished to exploit the vile powers that the realm of the dead offered. Long did she remain, ever watchful of the living realm, her place or origin. Waiting silently as the regency collapsed under the direction of a budding tyrant, the Veil stirred darkly as the air tensed as though a storm was about to descend. Still the Keeper remained, hoping to trust in the spirit of her people, that they would soon right this travesty that was to take place, to stop this madman from taking up the mantle her father had left behind. Yet, nothing was done, and the world Issildia once knew, was changed forever. Technology soon rose into popularity within the kingdoms, and new more potent weapons of war were fashioned from cruel metal and stone. The great and legendary history of the races was ultimately forgotten, and the world was diminished. Save for a scant few that remembered the myths long forgotten and the glory of the Eld, much was forgotten, and those great players of past legacies were mocked and taunted. Issildia herself was not spared of this, as her name once remembered eternally as that of a reluctant savior, was replaced by another.
Faintheart. And so the past was cast aside and what tattered bits that remained were scorned and slandered. Still the Keeper remained, her head turned in shame at what the world had become. Long she remained hidden, resolved in the decision that she was done with the children of the earth. Yet when the drums of war began to thrum in the distance, her once precious people screaming for blood…Issildia turned her gaze back…her eyes falling upon a tyrant. Never would she allow the kingdoms to become torn betwixt each other again…if necessary Issildia would rather reduce Larovia to ruins that see it return to its war-like past…
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Posted: Mon Sep 21, 2009 11:11 am
Name: Raewyn Sa'drys Age: 298 years old. Race: Vrykolakas Gender: Female Weapons: Two Mithrodin Swords with black handles, the hilts of both attach to create a double-edged sword. Secondary Weapons: Rose Compass Shurikens Powers: A form of blood-bending, also blood armor Allignment: Nuetral Appearence: Raewyn has dark ebony hair that cascades down her back, often pulled back in a tight ponytail to keep out of her face. Her ivory flesh often is illuminated in the darkness that she so enjoys by the moonlight, giving her an ethereal look to herself. Bright piercing blue eyes often are the first things someone notices about her and often times, the last thing they ever see before they die. She has beautiful bone structure in her face and a small nose, pale lips are often stretched into a deadly sneer as she races head first into danger. Given her fighting nature, her body is in excellent shape, the girl choosing to often wear dark close fitting clothing for fighting purposes only, not caring much for how she looks. What good was good looks on a corpse? Covering her tender ivory flesh are various black tattoos that often shift, they run over her arms, back, and legs, her blood-bending armor. Personality: Given that Raewyn was raised as a daughter of a very prominent house, the woman has a head for leadership and believes she has the right to rule her people. Raewyn believes she is better then the lower class and certainly better then those that oppress her people, vowing to lead a rebellion against them to stop them and get back her people's freedom. She has a strong sense of right and wrong, though she is known for playing both sides of the alignment to get what she wants. She is conniving and cunning, able to manipulate others with her power or her sharp words. Very independent, the Vry will hardly accept help from anyone else, feeling that accepting help means she is weak and she can't have that. Stubborn as a dozen angry mules, Raewyn will never admit that she is wrong nor will she ever back down from a fight, even if it means her capture or death. Sarcastic to a fault, Raewyn is known for saying exactly what's on her mind no matter who she upsets, she is of the mind that whatever she has to say is vastly more important then other people's feelings and normally she is right. Slavery has done nothing to weaken Raewyn, if anything, it has strengthened her resolve to both live and destroy those who had chosen to enslave the proud daughter of the Vry. She would take revenge and when her enemies lay in ruin, she would rule her people as she believes she was born to do. Very proud but hardly honorable.
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Posted: Mon Sep 21, 2009 11:18 am
Name: Issildia Nevar
Age: Unknown Race: Avariera
Gender: Female Weapons: Nyththirren *Legendary blade that led to the destruction of the Veil before Issildia’s rebirth. The Keeper serves as the guardian and wielder of this utterly dangerous relic, guarding it from those that would otherwise do harm with it. Secondary Weapons: Silver kunai blades.
Powers: Animancy Details
Alignment: Neutral
Appearance: With mild olive hued skin and dark raven tresses Issildia presents an image that is unfettered with trinkets and other items that would attempt to enhance her visage. Her most startling and easily recognizable attribute are her crystalline sapphire eyes which are accented with a play of radiant hues and deep ominous shades. She is quite simple minded when it comes to her appearance, always her hair is allowed to hang freely down her back, with no additional ornamentations, and no fanciful gems adorn her neck or fingers. She is customarily adorned in an onyx tunic sewn with radiant silver threads that are arranged in an attractive pattern, accentuating her slender and lean figure. An elegant black stretch of draping material hangs about her hips to offer a lengthy sarong like manifestation that drifts about her with every movement. Lithely designed leather boots studded briefly with silver encase her legs, serving as something resembling a light form of armoring.
Biography: In the last millennia all rumor of Issildia Nevar has vanished within the mortal realm, it was after her appointing of the Regency Council of Larovia that the previous and short-lived queen departed from all knowledge. It is believed that she soon took her place within the Veil, that elusive realm that stood as a border from the land of the living and that of the dead. Here she remained as a silent specter, constantly serving as the guardian of the balance, turning away rogue necromancers that wished to exploit the vile powers that the realm of the dead offered. Long did she remain, ever watchful of the living realm, her place or origin. Waiting silently as the regency collapsed under the direction of a budding tyrant, the Veil stirred darkly as the air tensed as though a storm was about to descend. Still the Keeper remained, hoping to trust in the spirit of her people, that they would soon right this travesty that was to take place, to stop this madman from taking up the mantle her father had left behind. Yet, nothing was done, and the world Issildia once knew, was changed forever. Technology soon rose into popularity within the kingdoms, and new more potent weapons of war were fashioned from cruel metal and stone. The great and legendary history of the races was ultimately forgotten, and the world was diminished. Save for a scant few that remembered the myths long forgotten and the glory of the Eld, much was forgotten, and those great players of past legacies were mocked and taunted. Issildia herself was not spared of this, as her name once remembered eternally as that of a reluctant savior, was replaced by another.
Faintheart. And so the past was cast aside and what tattered bits that remained were scorned and slandered. Still the Keeper remained, her head turned in shame at what the world had become. Long she remained hidden, resolved in the decision that she was done with the children of the earth. Yet when the drums of war began to thrum in the distance, her once precious people screaming for blood…Issildia turned her gaze back…her eyes falling upon a tyrant. Never would she allow the kingdoms to become torn betwixt each other again…if necessary Issildia would rather reduce Larovia to ruins that see it return to its war-like past…
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Posted: Mon Sep 21, 2009 11:38 am
"Oh my Gods!" Raewyn thought as she beat her head against the bars of the cage she had been sitting in for the last few hours. She was ready to fall upon a sword, had she one of course. It wasn't because of the imprisonment itself, that she could easily deal with, it was the 'company' she had that was driving her to madness. Damp ebony hair fell over the ivory face of the prisoner, her piercing blue eyes intent on the one who continued to talk as though breath was not required, his needless prattle was enough to drive anyone to insanity, it was a note-worthy torture to be certain. The Dark Lady slowly rose in the prison cell she occupied, pacing back and forth as though it would help her drown out the words of the prison guard who stood nearby, watching her with a cheery smile upon his pasty face. Didn't his face hurt from smiling so much?!
Years...that was how long the Dark Lady had been imprisoned in this god-forsaken place, not even being privy to where she was. She had been captured and yet she had been kept alive, such was the dance of politics and yet how could one really get used to being caught and used for another's reasons? Raewyn growled as she reached deep inside herself, calling to a power that she didn't get a chance to use all that often anymore, her blood-bending went unused here in her prison because all who ventured close to her wore amulets that warded off her power, it was so demeaning to have a power and not able to use it on anything but rats and bats that lived there with her. The tattoos that sat upon her ivory flesh shifted as she moved, something that happened often when she was agitated.
"For the sake of the Gods, I don't care!" Raewyn finally screamed, slamming her fist against one of the bars, hearing a resonating sound echoing both in the cell and in her own hand, yet not yelp of pain fell from her lips. Her words caused the guard's words to halt a moment, his dark hazel eyes blinking as though in disbelief. "You know what? You need to be more cheerful!" His response to her angry cry nearly caused her to fall over in frustration, she couldn't believe him. "Cheerful about being in a cage near you?! How is this possible."Normally the Lady was more reserved and in command of her emotions, but slavery did things to a woman even as emotionally and physcially strong as Raewyn and she was near her breaking point. "You need to calm down...want to hear a song I wrote?" Without even waiting to hear Raewyn's reply, perhaps already knowing her answer, he chose to run off to fetch a musical instrument.
Not another song...
This 'Stephen' that had been set upon her was truly the hardest to deal with. She'd take physical pain over this any day. She groaned as she smacked her head on the bars once again, enduring another song about this guard's love Roxanne or 'Roro' as he called her with gushy love in his voice, was going to be pure torture in it's vilest form.
She heard footsteps coming back her way and growled, seeing Stephen making his appearance with a stringed instrument back in his hands. Raewyn swore that he never allowed that smile to fall from his lips, it was actually rather creepy. "I wrote it last night while you were sleeping because I couldn't sleep...I just love her so much." Raewyn retreated away from the bars to a small corner, covering her ears, yet this didn't get a clue to the dense guard who continued speaking about his darling woman. The only thing that could make it worse was if his 'love' came on guard duty as well. Only thing that was more obnoxious then his music was the sound of their obnoxious making-out, it was just sickening. "You should be more happy, you're too dark." He commented with a soft chuckle.
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Posted: Mon Sep 21, 2009 12:34 pm
The world had changed…
Ever so slowly the soft pervading warmth of slumber deserted her limbs as the harsh chill of wind brushed against her features. Cerulean eyes that had long since deserted this land once again settled upon this grim vista. An invisible film, much like she was emerging from some unseen gateway slid back to allow the dark figure to step forth. Onyx drapery and silver hues garbed her flesh, upon her back was a single silver and obsidian hued sheath that housed a slender blade that gleamed like some pale specter in the sunlight.
For a moment Issildia allowed her lungs to fill with the essence of the living realm, a chill inching deep within her very bones as she finally exhaled, her fingers flexing as she once again grew accustomed to existing within this shell of flesh and blood.
Her eyes clouded over briefly as though some tumultuous tempest dwelt within those azure orbs, the vision playing over again within her mind.
Upon the plains of Kierdon, at the very border between the two kingdoms the dark army of Larovia stood in readiness. Their banners…still unchanged though the meaning lost boasted a black fabric etched with the image of a pale avian figure, a falcon perhaps. Great beasts that the Keeper did not recognize that were wrought of clockwork and metal marched before the masses towards Faltora, the capital of the southern kingdom. The sky above the vast army was blocked by massive shapes…what her people had come to call air ships. Nothing more than monstrosities of war, the woman thought silently, her disdain evident.
Blood was to be split that day, and she was far too late to stop this vision from transpiring. But in this, she could bring and end to this path that the new Emperor had sent her people upon.
The world had changed, and Issildia now stood as a complete foreigner to this place. Those she had once known and loved had long since passed or departed. She was the last…the most enduring thing to remain after the age of legends had been cast aside. Nothing more than a relic that was now slandered with shameful words and rumors. Yet these grief stricken thoughts felt so very numb to her. So long had she remained within the Veil, her true place of power and her eternal position within the world. Often she slumbered when she was not needed, her soul fading into the very fabric of that realm to cast aside the pain of existence. But now here she stood before the small town of Ne’Desu, the militant outpost and prison of the Larovian forces, the memories of her past rising to the forefront of her mind as the pain came rushing back. It was nearly enough to send any other to their knees in grief, yet still Issildia stood, her face flat and still…her mind calm. Perhaps she had forgotten how to live…the words of her long lost ally Azure coming to mind in that moment.
“Learn to live, and remember death.”
How true those few syllables seemed now, she had forgotten was it was to live, and in her disregard for the mortal realm all had begun to fallen into chaos. Perhaps the name her people now called her was truer that she cared to admit.
Faintheart, Issildia thought sarcastically….How very fitting.
Yet she did not dwell long on these gloom filled thoughts as a passing patrol of two armored men passed by, rather surprised to sight the strange woman simply standing within the town border. Surely she could not have entered the fortress walls so easily?
“What do you think you are doing in here!”
Blades were unsheathed that seemed to have been built of clockwork and stone…what a strange contraption, Issildia thought as the weapons suddenly whirred to life, toothed blades spinning about the swords as to rend flesh from bone.
It had been so very long since she had spoken, the cords in her throat seemingly immobile from disuse as Issildia’s gaze narrowed on these two Celtarie.
Lips parted as the woman raised a single hand lithely and flicked her wrist slightly.
“How your kind have fallen…”
Abruptly these two men seemed to have been taken prisoner by some invisible force as they were suddenly lifted off their feet and thrown viciously into a nearby tree, their bones cracking violent as the woman felt their life forces vacate their bodies.
Without offering a second glance at the corpses Issildia strode forward further into the camp, not giving a damn as to who saw her…she would deal with them accordingly.
None would cross her path in hopes of foiling her mission. She would released the rebel leader of the Vrykolakas and set that cruel race upon her former kin….
After all, better Larovia be in ruins than left in the hands of a tyrant...
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Posted: Mon Sep 21, 2009 1:04 pm
After about the third verse to the "Oh My Gods I'm In Love" song that the guard played on his musical instrument, Raewyn was ready to kill herself. This was torture on another level entirely. A dull sound echoed from the girl's prison, the sound of flesh meeting metal as the Vry continuously beat her forehead against the bars of her prison, causing Stephen to halt. "I admire your enthusiasm to join my song with your own sound, but surely you can find a better drum then your head and the bars." With this said, Raewyn stopped and pulled back from the bars, not because of the dense guard but because of the sounds she heard from above the prison. The sound of screams could be heard even in the lowest reaches of the prison that rested underground, someone was attacking the Celtarie, how delightful.
"Better go help your kin." She remarked softly, her voice laced with sarcasm since she knew that he wasn't allowed to leave his post for long. His leaving for his instrument had technically broken that one rule.
Stephen looked torn and somewhat confused, it wasn't easy getting past the technological borders they had assembled and yet by the sounds of it, an army somehow had. Had the Vry finally gotten up the courage to rescue their rebel leader from her cage? It didn't seem likely but by the sound of the alarms sounding, something was wrong. "Bet you're precious Roxanne is being torn to pieces." She remarked casually, now acting as though she was sitting upon a plush couch of velvet rather then a cold hard ground, a calm look about her when she had once been tense and irritable. The Vry didn't know what was going on either, but if it led to Celtarie deaths, she was perfectly fine with that, she loved hearing screams of pain and fear. Was far better then the music Stephen had been playing earlier, that was for damn sure.
The look of distress on Stephen's face was the first she had seen in a while, she didn't think he even knew another emotion then cheerfulness and pain-in-the-assness. The thought of his darling lover being torn to bits apparently upset him a good bit, which caused Raewyn great pleasure. "I can just see it now," she started with laughter in her blue eyes. "She was never a good fighter anyway, unless you count tongue wars, which you probably would." She saw Stephen's cheeks turn red and she snorted, she was getting to him, which was exactly what she wanted. "If they are Vry, then I'm sure they would force her to injure herself. Cause her to take a hot poker to those pretty little eyes. Tsshh." She giggled cruelly at his apparent sound of distress as she could well imagine he was picturing these things as she spoke. "Pulling out her own long hair as she cries for them to stop, then they would start with the fingers."
"Just stop it!" He cried out, tears visible in his hazel eyes.
Raewyn slowly stood to her feet, her tattered rags clinging to her figure as she crossed her arms over her chest, a feral grin on her lips at this point. "Once they are finished with her fingers and toes, they would force her to slowly open up her stomach." Her words trailed off as first the musical instrument he had been playing so lovingly before was thrown at her, breaking against the bars. Bits of debris struck her skin, but her blood armour held up, causing her to barely even feel any of it. Thankfully she was concentrating because a moment later, an actual weapon was thrown, a shuriken that struck her shoulder. She could feel pain, but it was numbed by her blood armour, which made it easy for her to pull it from her tough skin.
"Thanks luv." Raewyn said with a wink as she held the shuriken between her fingers, she finally had a familiar weapon in her hands again.
She might have thrown it had it not been for the footsteps that came down the stone steps, the sound of heavy breath was heard before Roxanne made her unforunate appearance. "You're safe!" Stephen exclaimed, surging forward to wrap his arms around her form, hugging her tightly against him. Well, there went Raewyn's fun...
Or maybe not...
It hadn't escaped Raewyn's notice that unlike Stephen who wore his amulet around his neck, Roxanne wore nothing. She had foolishly forgotten her amulet in the midst of everything. Now this was going to be fun.
Roxanne was unable to cry out in protest before her body was comandeered, being unable to resist the blood-bender's powers. She pushed Stephen back from her and slapped him soundly across the face, her face screwed up to look as though she were angry at him. The dark puppetmaster hid in the corner of her prison, carefully manipulating the female guard. Stephen rubbed his cheek as he backed away, not knowing what was going on until he saw the missing amulet from the girl's neck. "Oh s**t..." Was all he got out before Roxanne landed a good punch on him. Within the cell walls, laughter reverberated, years of slavery and torture was all worth it at this very moment.
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Posted: Mon Sep 21, 2009 2:12 pm
Screams sounded as more clockwork weapons were readied, their whirring filling the air as the multitude of soldiers stationed at this outpost for training turned upon their first real threat in months. A single entity, not a mass of rebels or some fell beasts emerging from the great forests that bordered the village was responsible…nay it was a single woman. And she had yet to even draw her own weapon…
The same force it seemed that had dashed aside all that had attempted to approach the dark eyed wraith seemed to flick aside the plethora of cross bow bolts that clashed against the invisible barrier with a scattering of pale cerulean sparks. A show of light soon swathed Issildia’s form as the attacks continued, still her pace did not slow in any sense.
A bellow sounded to her left as Issildia turned to sight a strange creation marching towards her with a mechanical resolve. Great metal joints hefted a stone shell that was marked with hundreds of alchemic symbols. The monstrosity towered over her, a seemingly humanoid figure that was composed of the workings of technology with a simplistic intelligence driving it. The woman had faced far worse in her youth and she had been greatly limited in skill, but now with the weary centuries weighing down upon her shoulders no fear dared to inch it’s way into her consciousness.
“Pathetic children and your trinkets.” She whispered wrathfully. A heavy hiss sounded as the darkly gleaming blade upon her back was drawn with a fluid motion. The surrounding soldiers waited with grins crossing their faces as this bestial fiend of stone and ingenuity came to stand over the woman, a stone fist hefted to strike her down.
Her demise seemed utterly certain.
Cerulean eyes abruptly began to darken as rage boiled to life within Issildia’s very marrow. It was beyond her that her own people would turn this betrayal against nature against her. The blade hung hungrily in her hand as the mighty fist came crashing down, this sound followed by a startling scream of metal being bent and torn.
The stonework hand of the golem hung motionless above her, the beast frozen in place as the screeching continued. Her blade hung at her side, coated in a thick black oil running down it’s surface at a slender onyx hued line appeared about the mid-section of the golem. Ever so slowly, the stone and clockwork torso slid in half, until it came to collapse to the side in a heap of scrap metal.
Silence fell upon the scene as the azure eyed female glanced at the soldiers that surrounded her. But the moment did not last as soon enough the grisly scene erupted once again, Issildia turning back upon her path and faintly entertained smirk crossing her features as she extended her free hand to the massive wall of the stunted stone fortress before her. Yet again that invisible force guided by her thoughts was sent to work again as the stones were torn away from the mortar, great heaps of rocks speeding outwards to crash into the attacking forces.
~Though this fortress seemed rather small at first, below the surface of the earth was where the brunt of its mass lay. It was here within the bowels of existence that Issildia would locate her quarry. When the darkly garbed woman entered the stronghold soldiers continued to pursue her down into the structure. Though even with those few still stationed within the complex Issildia soon sighted an opportunity that would allow her to cut them off.
Upon entering the fortress the Keeper was immediately delivered into the disheveled mess hall, a single corridor leading down into the dungeons and a number of others leading away from her destination.
Heavy red stone served as the support of that singular hall that led deeper into this proverbial citadel. A single keystone holding the masses of rock together.
It did not take the woman long to riddle out the necessary clues and as she passed under that ruddy hued archway the single oblong stone at the summit was rather abruptly dislodged by some spectral assistance.
With this a great rumbling took hold of the fortress; shaking it’s very foundation to feel as though a siege was transpiring. Stone began to collapse about that great threshold to the hall as the opening was quickly sealed off with rock and mortar. Thunder once again shook the very earth as this avalanche soon reached it’s culmination. Shouts roared from the opposing side of the collapsed archway, directing the remaining Celtarie to begin digging through the mess. A pity the race had reduced itself to barely having any grasp of the shadow arts, the fools required the advantage of being able to see their destination if they wished to use their skills to teleport. And Issildia had rather bluntly severed that advantage from their dwindling bag of tricks.
Allowing a slow breath to leave her body she allowed her body to relax, as the danger was averted for the moment. A long narrow stair stood before her that Issildia soon started down, her feet falling silently upon the roughly cut stone.
Only a scant few minutes passed amid her decent before sounds reverberated from below. A single threshold stood agape at the end of the stairwell that was cast in a soft fiery light.
For a dwindling moment Issildia paused, allowing her consciousness to be cast outwards and away from her body as an extension of her sight. It was a stretching of her spirit rather that allowed her to sense the happenings of distant, or not so distant events. And it did not take her long to detect was transpiring down in that dim chamber.
A patter of quick steps was all that heralded her appearance as a sapphire eyed woman with dark locks screaming behind her whipped about to come face to face with Stephan.
His face fell in surprise. “Save me!”
Issildia frowned at these words, a single eyebrow arching.
Yet she did not reply as a swift strike with a narrowed hand impacted the guards stomach, a ghastly expression crossing his features. Quickly following, the woman that had interrupted this lovers spat gestured sharply to the iron bars that caged Raewyn who crouched in the corner. Rather unexpectedly Stephan was thrown off his feet and tossed with a great deal of force into the bars, the metal actually bending with the potency of the impact.
Issildia’s attention then slid between Raewyn and the puppet woman that had been ensnared by the Vrykolakas blood bending. Motioning at the spellbound Roro the woman was quickly snatched off the ground and held briefly in the air as though transfixed before Issildia flicked her hand towards that adjacent wall to send the pathetic celtarie tumbling into the stonework. Chips of rock scattered everywhere before with a rather enraged hiss Issildia turned upon the caged Raewyn.
“That is enough.” She breathed.
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Posted: Mon Sep 21, 2009 6:12 pm
It was as though her soul sang as she was finally able to use her blood-bending skills on something that wasn't smaller then herself, a rat or a flying creature. She had craved the feel of her power working on a Celtarie, especially one that had tormented her all those years she had been imprisoned, to inflict torture on those that had put her through hell and back. She laughed as she watched Roxanne pummel on Stephen who was too love-struck to fight back, his nose bleeding and broken and his eyes blackened. He put his arms up to soften the blows but for the most part, he did not fight back. Tears welled up in his eyes and for a moment Raewyn couldn't tell if it was because of the pain or because the person who was causing the pain. The Vry felt no remorse for what she was doing, surely Stephen couldn't expect Raewyn to actually feel bad for them and stop what she was doing.
Both Stephen and Raewyn turned when they heard more footsteps coming down their way, both had the thought that it was someone to help the Celtarie guards, which meant more amulet wearing bastards. However, it wasn't as Raewyn expected, a woman appeared who she had never seen before and while Raewyn didn't scare easy, there was something about her that made her shiver. Her power remained on Roxanne, the Celtarie's hand wrapping around Stephen's throat. Normally Roxanne wasn't this strong, but Raewyn was able to influence her and help strengthen her through the blood, clasped in her open hand was the bloody shuriken, her own blood dripping from the blades.
The appearance of the strange woman heightened Raewyn's curiosity since it was obvious she wasn't interested in helping Stephen, since she just threw him into the wall, his groans causing the young Vry to sigh in annoyance. He was 'her' toy, not this new woman's. She growled as the woman turned her attention onto her blood puppet, her being so callously tossed aside without the woman even having to touch her. A powerful psychic perhaps, but what was she doing there and why?
Her voice seemed a bit strained, as though it hadn't been used in a while, but the words she said to the proud Vry was enough to cause her to seethe. How dare she come in and command Raewyn like that. Raewyn was a proud leader of the Vry, no one told her what to do. For a moment she let her hand fall as she stood, the puppet master making her way close to the bars as she inspected the woman before she sneered at her. "I'll decide when it's enough." The words were barely out of her mouth before her little blood puppet stood up as though she hadn't been harmed, blood pouring from her nose and other various wounds but she still responded. She lurched forward towards where Stephen still lay, his breathing slowling down but he was still alive.
Her hand grabbed the amulet that rested around his neck and threw it far away before Raewyn released her hold on her body. Stephen's eyes opened wide as he felt another take control of his body, he was unable to fight it as she got into his very core, taking hold of his blood, making him another puppet. He seemed to fight it for a moment or two, his body trembling before it went stiff, his body moving as Roxanne's had, like a puppet on strings. His body stood on it's own and he turned to face the mysterious woman. In an instant his body was thrust forward as though he had been thrown by a great hand before his body burst. Blood splurted all over from the man's body, it was like he had been exploded from the inside, a special ability Raewyn had been exploring using rats. Apparently they had served some purpose. "Ok, now I've had enough."
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Posted: Mon Sep 21, 2009 6:38 pm
Issildia looked blankly as the prisoner with disdain bleeding from her very eyes after Raewyn offered her retort. Turning slightly towards her to leer down upon the caged blood caster Issildia's gaze followed the now captured Stephan as he was lifted up as though caught upon marionette strings, pain playing across his features. Her empathic abilities faintly regarded this torment with little more than a short lived frown before Issildia swiftly raised her hand at the wrist ever so slightly as the blood splattered in every possible direction upon the guard being relieved of his very life force. This subtle movement was soon unraveled as the droplets of blood making a line towards the woman seemed to slow in mid-air as though held utterly transfixed by some spectral force. Once the blood fueled show had come to a stark halt Issildia allowed her wrist to relax and the amassment of blood droplets were allowed to cascade to the ground in a spattered puddle of crimson.
Luminescent cerulean eyes flickered over to Raewyn, a faintly irritating expression crossing her features. With a smooth and lithe movement Issildia flicked the golem oil from her blade that still hung calmly within her right hand before sheathing the glittering weapon. Elegant runes that were unmistakably wrought by some ancient hand ran along the edges to encompass nearly the full length of the sword.
Finally Issildia spoke, her composure regained for the moment, though she continued to remain on edge with this particular woman. It was obvious that Raewyn was a skilled blood caster, and perhaps a formidable foe, but for the moment Issildia required the prisoner as an ally.
“Indeed…” She replied frostily.
Finally setting to the matter at hand, Issildia resolved herself to keeping the woman locked up until they reached a favorable agreement.
“Raewyn Sa'drys…you have been caged for quite sometime.” Issildia remarked coolly, her eyes flickering faintly.
“I offer you, your freedom.” She proffered with an unreadable façade dropping over her visage as she gestured briefly at the iron bars of the prison, the metal creaking with some unseen pressure as though something threatened to destroy those accursed bars. Yet it remained restrained and content.
“But I require your aid in return.” Concluded Issildia her eyes darkening within the deep shadows of the chamber.
Granting a short-lived nod in hopes of a clean and simple agreement she spoke once again.
“What say you?....”
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Posted: Sun Sep 27, 2009 4:43 pm
While Raewyn was known for being a mature young rebel leader of her people, capable of carrying an intelligent conversation with the best of them, but she did have her moments when she was a complete and total immature brat, at this moment especially. She did not like being told what to do even after years of slavery in the dark hole she was still in at that moment. She sneered at Issildia from behind the bars that held her, somewhat annoyed that her little 'prank' on the woman who had interrupted her fun hadn't gone off as she had planned. Seeing Stephen torn apart, his guts splashing against a nearby wall however, helped bring back a smile to her face, his blood hadn't covered the mysterious woman but oh well. Roxanne lived still, weeping as she had been released from Raewyn's control, covered in her lover's blood. She had been the cause of his death because of her negligence in wearing the appropriate amulet in order to keep Raewyn's powers from touching her.
Raewyn wasn't interested in trusting someone who was not of her own race, especially when her intentions were unknown. Raewyn was someone who enjoyed working on her own, though it hadn't gone well for her these last few years, no possible contact with her people, no way of knowing what happened to her family. She had spent every moment of her time in her cell plotting her escape, dreaming of it even. But even know, as this mysterious woman stood there, she wasn't sure if she could accept such a woman as an ally. Piercing blue eyes inspected the woman thoroughly, having seen her abilities so far, she knew she could be a formidable enemy, especially since Raewyn was still trapped in the cell with no way to get out. Perhaps it was best to remain calm and actually try and get the woman to free her.
Such a thought remained until her piercing blue eyes fell upon the sword that she held in her hand, catching careful glimpse of the runes marking the blade before it was fully sheathed. Her mind moved quickly over the various historical things she had learned before she had been stolen away into slavery, those runes and the sword itself belonged to someone of great historical value as far as she could remember. She turned her back to the woman and pressed her forehead against the cool wall, mumbling to herself as she tried hard to remember it. She barely even heard what the woman had to say, though she caught snippets of it as she continued to mumble to herself.
She stopped her mumbling after a moment to look at the woman who spoke of rather obvious things. "Really? My gods I hadn't known that." She remarked sarcastically, twirling some of her hair between her fingers as though she was truly surprised at what the woman had to say. What did surprise her was the fact that she knew Raewyn's name, since her enslavement was kept hidden from all races, except that of her own people and those that had enslaved her of course, which this woman was most definitely not either.
Her freedom was being offered to her though of course it did not come free, there was a catch. Suddenly, as though something had clicked in Raewyn's mind, her eyes brightened and a sly smile slid across her face. She knew exactly who this woman was, the surprise of seeing her there in the flesh did very little to smother the sarcasm that just oozed from her smile and her eyes. This was all just too perfect, but how to approach this? She touched her hand to her chin as though trying to think hard before she leaned her back against the stone wall. "Well, this is a surprise." She started off, completely ignoring her talk of her own freedom. Freedom was tempting but it was nothing compared to actually getting a chance to speak with Issildia Nevar, though Raewyn wouldn't speak that name. "To my recollection and knowledge of history, I had thought you'd run away for good ol Faintheart." A disgraceful name to be given to a disgraceful cowardous woman, someone who had turned her back on the world when they needed her most.
"I'm not sure if I should kneel or laugh in your presence, I suppose I'll leave that for you to decide." She crossed her arms over her chest, knowing full well that this could lead to her death or lead to her permanent enslavement, but she had lived this long in slavery, so it wouldn't be too much. "As for my freedom, I doubt a faintheart such as yourself can really offer that, since it's your fault, in a way, that I'm here in the first place."
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Posted: Sun Sep 27, 2009 5:26 pm
As Issildia sheathed her weapon she frowned faintly as Raewyn eyed her strangely. Still disregarding this possible twitch in persona for the toll taken via years of slavery, the woman delivered her words dispassionately all the same. Yet the behavior only increased as the imprisoned woman turned towards the back of her cell, as though entrenched in thought. Issildia could only arch her brow at this but she stilled her tongue before she said anything that would deter Raewyn from joining her cause.
It could be said that nothing had prepared the Keeper for what came next, as the greatest shame of her lifetime was brought furiously down upon her.
Upon turning back to her potential liberator Issildia’s eyes steeled upon the azure eyed girl uttering her very first words, a diminutive prelude for what was to come. Yet it was next that the hammer fell heavily upon her shoulders, that accursed name passing Raewyn’s lips as she leapt into a vengeful tirade.
Faintheart…..
That single word echoing within Issildia’s mind like an island surrounded by some vast immeasurable sea, no mention of salvation in sight as her eyes closed in shame. But with this came a vicious welling of utterly undiluted rage within her. It rose like the thunderous bellows of a sleeping mountain that was soon to belch forth a hellish nightmare upon the world, nothing would dare to stand in it’s path.
Rather abruptly the entire fortress, down to its very foundations began to thrum with a deep humming. Dust was kicked up about chamber and the screams of those still living sounded all about as the entire structure began to shudder in violent gasps of energy. The very air seemed to waver about Issildia as though some unseen fire raged about her, yet still her eyes remained closed.
Amid the dim roar of the fortress screaming in protest from the strain of that unseen force working itself into every crack in crevice as it sought to deliver the Celtarie’s citadel into mere rubble, words barely set upon the echo of a whisper escape Issildia’s lips.
“You know nothing!” She hissed violently, a far darker aspect of the Keeper emerging as the atmosphere about her continued to waver.
“You Raewyn Sa'drys are naught by a child!” Issildia seethed as her eyes flared open, those blue orbs alit with fire. Suddenly the iron bars caging Raewyn began to wail with strain as they abruptly were bent inwards in a twisted mess of blood tinged metal to bear down within inches of Raewyn’s body giving her barely enough room to even breath.
“Witness the fading of all that you once knew young Vrykolakas; the death of entire civilization…the demise of an age.” Issildia breathed heavily as the roar about them fled towards a crescendo, the air seeming to become so very heated that sweat was beginning to bud on their skin.
It was then that the rumbling unexpectedly came to cease, a haunting quiet descending as Issildia’s frame relaxed her eyes appearing almost foggy with the essence of distance memories obscuring her view.
“Only then might you condemn my name.” Issildia uttered her voice a mere ripple of the tempest that had so recently over taken her. Slowly a soft exhale escaped her chest as she regained control of herself, her eyes closing only briefly before opening to focus on Raewyn who’s cell had been severely reduced in size, the woman now unable to sit without bumping into the twisted mess of metal.
Finally returned to a more civil attitude Issildia narrowed those sapphire orbs. “Whether or not this is my doing…I am here now….” She intoned sternly.
“So you can either accept my aid....or remain a prisoner in your...ever so little cage.” The cynicism so blatantly evident in her words as anger continued to cling desperately to her voice.
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