Fantasy A World Untamed

[minusultra]

There was more to Hilde's story then she was saying, that much was obvious. Hilde had a hand to play in this, a big one. If Kronos didn't know any better, he'd think that the Matriarch was the one pulling the strings. She had come ready with an ingenious plan on how to take out not only one, but two army's. Or maybe Kronos was just being paranoid, was Hilde the type of person to take a child's life?


Yes.


What Kronos couldn't figure out was if Upolo was apart of the plan or an innocent victim. But the young elf didn't voice his suspicions of the human leader. It was clear that Camori was at his wits ends with Hilde and this was no time to begin an argument. Serrn would attack Upolo and whether Kronos liked it or not, Ituro would be involved.


All the same, Kronos offered the same smile to Hilde as he did to Camori. "My word, your ambition never fails to amaze me Hilde. That sure is quite a way to take out the Sernnites army. I don't see the moral in sending aid to a nation that would kill a child. On the other hand, leaving Upolo to the mercy of Franca would be just as lowly," especially when Kronos suspected Hilde to be the real one at fault. "My vote is to aid Upolo in this war to come." Kronos turned his attention to the Avis Vir, "Camori?"

 

[JellyFish]

Spoiler

Lake - Iesti, Raven Tether





She awoke. Blinked in the pitch, black darkness. Yawned, and breathed through her nose. She blinked again. Felt a tear run down her face, felt it dissolve the salt


of other tears. But siliva was no longer entering her throat; her mouth was hard and dry. Her cheeks were forced out by the pressure inside. The foreign body inside her mouth felt as though it would explode her head. But what was it? What was it? The first thing she thought when she awoke was that she wanted to go back. Back into the dark, warm depths that had enveloped her. The injection he had given her had not worn off just yet, but she knew pain was on the way, felt it coming in the slow, dull beat of her pulse and the jerkiness of blood through her brain. Where was he? Was he standing right behind her?


She held her breath, listened. She couldn’t hear anything, but she could sense a presence. Like a leopard. Someone had told her leopards made so little noise they could sneak right up to their prey in the dark. They could regulate their breathing so that it was in tune with yours. Could hold their breath when you held yours. She was certain she could feel his body heat. What was he waiting for? She exhaled again. And at that same moment was sure she had felt breath on her neck. She whirled round, hit out, but was met by air. She hunched up, tried to make herself small, to hide. Pointless.


How long had she been unconscious?


The drug wore off. The sensation lasted only for a fraction of a second. But it was enough to give her the foretaste, the promise. The promise of what was to come.


The foreign body placed on the table in front of her had been the size of a billiard ball, made of shiny metal with punched-out small holes and figures and symbols. From one of the holes protruded a red wire with a looped end, which instantly made her think of the holiday tree that would need decorating at her parents’ house, in seven days. With shiny balls, pixies, hearts, candles and beautiful flags. In eight days they would be singing a traditional hymns, and she would see the twinkling eyes of her nephews and nieces as they opened their presents. All the things she should have done differently. All the days she should have lived to the full, avoiding escapism, should have filled with happiness, breath and love. The places she had merely traveled through, the places she was planning to visit. The men she had met, the man she had still not met. The fetus she had got rid of when she was seventeen, the children she had not yet had. The days she had wasted for the days she thought she would have.


Then she had stopped thinking about anything except the knife that had been brandished before her. And the gentle voice that had told her to put the ball in her mouth. She had done so, of course she had. With her heart thumping she had opened her mouth as wide as she could and pushed the ball in with the wire left hanging outside. The metal tasted bitter and salty, like tears. Then her head had been forced back, and the steel burned against her skin as the knife was laid flat against her throat. The ceiling and the room were illuminated by a standard lamp leaning against the wall in one of the corners. Bare, grey concrete. Apart from the lamp, the room contained a white plastic camping table, two chairs, two empty beer bottles and two people. Him and her. She smelt a leather glove as a finger had tugged lightly at the red loop hanging from her mouth. And the next moment her head had seemed to explode.


The ball had expanded and forced itself against the inside of her mouth. But however wide she opened her jaws, the pressure was constant. He had examined her with a concentrated, engaged expression, like a dentist checking to see whether the orthodontic brace was sitting as it should. A little smile intimated satisfaction.


With her tongue she could feel circular ridges around the holes in the ball and that was what was pressing against her palate, against the soft flesh of her tongue, against her teeth, against the uvula. She had tried to say something. He had listened patiently to the inarticulate sounds emerging from her mouth. Had nodded when she gave up, and had taken out a syringe. The drop on the tip had glinted in the torchlight. He had whispered something in her ear: ‘Don’t touch the wire.’


Then he had injected her in the neck. She was out in seconds.


She listened to her own terrified breathing as she blinked in the darkness.


She had to do something.


She placed her palms on the chair seat, which was clammy from her perspiration, and pushed herself up. No one stopped her.


She advanced with tiny steps until she hit a wall. Groped her way along to a smooth, cold surface. The metal door. She pulled at the bolt. It didn’t budge. Locked. Of course it was locked. What had she been thinking? Was that laughter she could hear, or was the sound coming from inside her head? Where was he? Why was he playing with her like this?


Do something. Think. But to think, she would first have to get rid of this metal ball before the pain drove her insane. She put her thumb and first finger in the corners of her mouth. Felt the ridges. Tried in vain to get her fingers under one of them. Had a coughing fit and a panic attack when she couldn’t breathe. She realised that the ridges had made the flesh around her windpipe swell, that soon she would be in danger of suffocating. She kicked the metal door, tried to scream, but the ball stifled the sound. She gave up again. Leaned against the wall. Listened. Was that his wary tread she could hear? Was he moving around the room? Was he playing blind man’s buff with her? Or was it her blood throbbing past her ears? She steeled herself against the pain and forced her mouth shut. The ridges were hardly down before they sprang back and forced her mouth open again. The ball seemed to be pulsating now, as though it had become an iron heart, a part of her.


Do something. Think.


Springs. The ridges were spring-loaded.


They had jumped up when he pulled the wire.


‘Don’t touch the wire,’ he had said.


Why not? What would happen?


She slid down the wall until she was sitting. Cold damp rose from the concrete floor. She wanted to scream again, but she couldn’t. Quiet. Silence.


All the things she should have said to those she loved, instead of the words that had served to fill the silence with those to whom she was indifferent.


There was no way out. There was just her and this unbelievable pain, her head exploding.


‘Don’t touch the wire.’


If she pulled it, the ridges might retract into the ball, and she would be spared the pain.


Her thoughts ran in the same circles. How long had she been here? Two hours? Eight hours? Twenty minutes?


If all you had to do was pull the wire, why hadn’t she already done it? Because the warning had been given by an obvious sicko? Or was this part of the game? Being tricked into resisting the temptation to stop this quite unnecessary pain? Or was the game about defying the warning and pulling the wire, causing … causing something dreadful to happen? What would happen? What was this ball?


Yes, it was a game, a brutal game. And she had to play. The pain was intolerable, her throat was swelling, soon she would suffocate.


She tried to scream again, but it subsided into a sob, and she blinked and blinked, without producing any further tears.


Her fingers found the string hanging from her lips. She pulled tentatively until it was taut.


There was so much she regretted not having done, naturally. But if a life of self-denial would had placed her anywhere else than here, right now, she would have chosen that. She just wanted to live. Any sort of life. As simple as that.


She pulled the wire.


The needles shot out of the circular ridges. They were seven centimeters long. Four burst through her cheeks on each side, three into the sinuses, two up the nasal passages and two out through the chin. Two needles pierced the windpipe and one the right eye, one the left. Several needles penetrated the rear part of the palate and reached the brain. But that was not the direct cause of her death. Because the metal ball impeded movement, she was unable to spit out the blood pouring from the wounds into her mouth. Instead it ran down her windpipe and into her lungs, not allowing oxygen to be absorbed into her bloodstream, which in turn led to a cardiac arrest and what the pathologist would call in his report cerebral asphyxia, that is, lack of oxygen to her brain. In other words, Aliza Morgan drowned.


"So, I believe that would be a pound of gold, eh?"


"You damnable bastard. You played me from the very beginning, you knew she would die. You knew I would lose this bet."


Lake chortled, a deep laugh resounding in the arena. Many individuals had come that day to watch this show. They all wore masks, similar in shape and color. Interestingly, the stare of all eyes were the same. Amused.


They sat in the velvet seats, staring into the glass walls where a warm corpse once breathed. For the sake of his customers, he made sure that the glass could only be seen into and not out. Not many enjoyed knowing a victim could see them as they saw it.


"Of course I knew. She would never be able to stand the affects of the drug. But you beloved, good doctor. . . made an error in your judgement. Which cost you your daughter's life. How does it feel?"


"To be a murderer?"

 

[DoomyMcDoomferdstein]

Aldric Emmanuel Voss, Upolo.


Two Years Prior





There was a sickening crunch, followed by a bloodcurdling scream that pierced the night as a red hot steel dagger pierced deep into the leg of a bound and hooded woman sitting before Aldric. He left the dagger in place as he proceeded to rain several savage blows onto her face, only pausing, to ask the same question he had been asking for the umpteenth time.


"Who. Sent. You?"





The final blow he delivered as he finished his question sent the woman, along with the stool she was seated on toppling backwards. As she coughed and spat out blood from her mouth, she desperately tried keep up her façade of smugness by giving Aldric the same answer she had given him multiple times, with the same face-splitting grin on her face.


"I-I-I told you already... we're just bandits, trying to make an honest living, guvnor'. That pretty little girlie' of yours looks like she'd fetch us a nice bit o' coin... though now she's not worth much anymore now, is she? Ha ha haaaa....."


The woman segued into another fit of crazed mirth, which Aldric promptly interrupted with a swift kick to the head. Seizing her by the throat and hoisting her off the floor, he glared through his helmet's slits at her, snarling as his usually limitless patience finally began to wear itself thin.


"You lie! Masterfully crafted steel swords and armor? Coordinated attacks targeting the camp's vulnerable spots? No forms of transportation for potential spoils? Nay! This was no mere brigand raid, and you are no simple-minded barbarian. Now, answer me truthfully, lest I hand you over to Her Highness Franca herself!"





The mere mention of the Stenhardt name seemed to shoot down through the woman's body like a bolt of lightning, Her wide grin vanished, and her previously arrogant expression had been replaced by one of sheer terror.


"Ah, so you are familiar with them, I see. Then you probably already know that this is nothing compared to the horrors you shall face should I send you to Sernn. Perhaps you'll be fed your own fingers as you are slowly eaten alive by the dungeon rats? Or maybe Her Highness will take a more direct approach, for someone who has committed a crime as grave as yours?"





Aldric flung her bodily to the ground, and forced her to look at him, as he continued.


"I'm already doing you a grand favour, answer my questions and you met yet be spared the wrath of the Stenhardts."





The woman saw no further point in resisting, whatever her employer had threatened her with, was clearly naught compared to the current threat looming over her.


"I don't know the fine details... Just that we were supposed to kill that lil' girl of yours, and the rest of you lot in the dead of night. She said that Upolo would suffer for eternity if we followed orders. We had no love for that place, full of those filthy non-humans, we just wanted to watch the place burn..."


"Why the girl? What else do you know?"





"I told you already! I don't know no nuthin else! They only gave us this letter to be dropped off after this job was finished, and then they said something about their mum or something. But that's all I know! I swear."


Aldric took the letter and took a closer look at the envelope, it bore an eerie sigil that he did not recognise as well as an address on the front. He pocketed it, and turn to face his captive.


"Alright, I've told you everything, now it's your turn to pay-up!"


"Ah that's right, your reward, I almost forgot."





Before she could utter so much as a thanks, Aldric drew his sword and decapitated her, in one swift blow.


"Consider yourself pardoned."


____________________________________________________________________________________


"Send word to back to the Her Highness, Princess Ederra has been killed on Upolo soil, and give my letter to her. Only she, and she alone can lay eyes upon it. And if she doesn't listen to it, implore her not to take action yet."


"And what of you sir? Surely you can't mean to leave us! Do you really think her highness will sit idly by at her own sister's demise?"


"Don't worry, I have a plan."

 

[Saito]

Kazuto - Gradution

​

"Kazuto Leya."


As many had accepted their graduation at long last, Kazuto had finally taken his moment to solemnly walk up to the Principal to accept his diploma. Seeing the man looking around elsewhere almost every time a new student had walked up to him, Kazuto looked down slightly and thought about what would happen after this.


Would Mereth accept my feelings? My parents though... no... I can't trust anyone... no matter how much I love them...


After the thought dispersed in his mind, he looked up, waved the flowing hair of his out of his face, and took the diploma in one hand while shaking the Prinicpals with the other. He gripped the mans hand slightly more tighter than he would in a normal hand shake. His life had finally begun. Or was it when his parents had died, for when that had occurred, his life took a turn of events. After a slow paced walk back to his seat, he noticed Mereth and looked down again.


She wouldn't accept me... Get on with your life Kaz!


Once seated, the next name was called. Kazuto was ready to go home to finish his daily routine of boredom. For once in his life he was free to do what he wanted without such a cramped schedule of school and other crap. That day would be tomorrow.

 

[Auren]

xBoldan - Just Outside Hyr - Zaria L’instxxxxxxx




Zaria took the fabric and wrapped it around her finger. She folded the cloth in on itself, creating a tight bandage. The assassins were kind enough, given their reputation. They looked out for each other, and while she knew they had an agreement of service, for her to gain information on clients and targets while they assisted her in her travels, she felt that she was apart of the team. She was even tempted to call them her friends. She met Greyden’s gaze as he analyzed her.




“I carry a dagger for more than just carving, Grey,”

she said. Arcden had his point. The Iesti were respected among the Hyr, and if an altercation were to occur, she would not hesitate to show just what it meant to be an Iesti elf. At the mention of warmer clothes, Zaria examined her armor and cloak. Both were light and thin, to give her stealth and speed when she needed. They were not made to handle the cold of the north, and she had to agree that a warmer cloak would be needed. The cold that drifted down from the north to their current location, just under the Hyr border, already gave her skin a chill.


The side of her mouth quirked at little, giving a lopsided grin at the mention of Arcden buy more swords.

”There’s a small town a few miles ahead, if my sources are right. I can sell some of my wooden totems for my own cloak, and we can stock up with what we can afford with the money we have left,”

she said, softly. Her other necessary supplies would have to wait until after their next job. Her grin turned into a more serious line and she furrowed her brow in thought.

”I can see if there are any in need of our services while we are there. Though, small towns don’t generally need that kind of stir,”

she gazed off toward the direction of the village. Her eyes narrowed slightly before she looked back at the boys.


She placed her hands on her hips, tilting to one side.

”Arc, Grey,”

she met both their gazes.

”I’ll need to head back to Iesti after this next client. The master has asked that I attend some dinner with some snotty royals or another. Would you like me to find something to keep you busy while I run my errands, or do you wish to return to Iesti with me?”

She did this on occasion, splitting from the team to report to the spymaster personally. She knew the twins didn’t enjoy Iesti, the place being more of a cage. She wouldn’t make them come back to the city, but she always offered the same thing every time she needed to return. She felt responsible for any time they were left without a client for any length.


Plus, she didn’t need them to think her useless, especially when they were capable of slitting her throat and being done with it. She didn’t fear them, per say. They had been traveling together for a few years, and she knew that if they had wanted her dead, she wouldn’t be standing at their side now. She admired their skills, their efficiency as a duo. Sometimes she felt as a third wheel, but she supposed it was expected. They were twins after all. She just felt obligated to them, and she didn’t want to leave them waiting on her. She definitely didn’t want to leave the two assassins bored.




@Syrenrei

 

[Azukai]

Hyr, Zel





A smile came to Zel's face as he breathed in the familiar air of his homeland. Laced with a frigid touch and the scent of smoke from the fires within, the atmosphere of Hyr was certainly one unique to the north.


Zel's arrival in the city was met with favorable greetings from the market locals he once lived side by side.


"Zel! Is it your annual return?"


Zel gave a quick nod in reply to a familiar face who along with others, began to swarm his cart with a desire to inspect the new wares from the various empires of Bolan. Bringing his pair of horses to a halt, he jumped from his cart to begin the job that he did best, and it would be nearly an hour later before the locals would be satisfied to the point of allowing him to continue his journey forward.


Zel's destination was the northern tip of the city where life began to sparse and only the hut of a blacksmith resided in the isolation. Releasing his friends from the burden of their travels, Zel left the horses to graze the snowy land before entering the hut.


"How many damned times I tell yer ass to knock."


A rough voice shouted from within the dimly lit house just before a tall gruff man rounded the corner only to notice his guest and pull him into bone crushing hug.


"Zel, ya didn't tell me yer arrival was gonna be soon. Coulda sent yer ole man a letter first."


"As if anyone would find your mailbox up in the mountains."


Hel's hearty chuckles would lead the pair into the workshop connected to his hut where a wrapped bundle was awaiting Zel's arrival.


"Finest steel the land can find."


While Zel began to individually inspect the weaponry, Hel pulled out a curved dagger that he tossed in the direction of his son. Nimble catching the weapon by its blade, Zel began to test the blade's weight just before deflecting Hel's blade that had swung in his direction.


"Gift for yer travels seein yer blade was looking mighty dull last season."


Hel's words were spoken in between grunts and swipes of his blade, and it wasn't until the pair were both left breathless that the fight halted to a draw.


"Ya sure ya can't stay the night?"


Hel who had shouldered the bundle of weapons threw them into the back of Zel's cart while the youth began to re-harness his horses in preparation for departure. Giving his father a quick hug whilst leaving a sack of gold in his hand, Zel boarded the cart with a wave and farewells just before setting course back towards the city.


"Time is profit, and the life of a traveler is a life on the road. I'll see you in half a year, pops."

 

[Killigrew]

Meredith Hall​

Graduation







The ceremony droned on. It was a quaint little thing; everyone receiving their reward for four years of existing and regurgitation. Mereth kept her boredom restrained with relaxed, easy poise. It was like being in the classroom, only much larger and far more distractions. Her eyes traced the grassy cover laid out before them, following the blades of grass with some interest. Nature was always a point of intrigue; the systematic chaos attracted her far more than the mundane pace of the ceremony.


Another name was called. Another student passed through.


This one cried as they walked on. Mereth found the reaction strange.


It was so simple a thing. Binary and coded.


"Did you follow the rules?" was the question. "Indeed I have, most prudently" meant the piece of paper Mereth now held in two encircling hands. It meant sitting here for another few good hours, no stimulation to speak of aside from the occasional strange tears from particularly dedicated graduates. "I mournfully declare that I have not" meant being thrown out, tossed to the wayside, or, perhaps, allowed a second go at it.


"It's the only practice you'll get" was how father had put it. He'd been teaching her about the edges of a human's resistance to pain at the time. The memory brought a fond smile. Mereth found him in the audience's sea of bodies, coated in customary white, the distinct brown of his beard stark in her eyes. A blur of his face and shining glasses was all she could make out, but she knew he was beaming proudly for her.


She had passed the practice exam, after all. Now could began the real fun.


An inadvertent grin spread across her lips. She raised forward, fingers clutching, even crinkling into the curled manuscript. Not long now. Not long at all.

 

[Syrenrei]

Graduation- Jenna


"A party?" Jenna whispered to herself. Sure, she had plenty of friends at school, but actual party invitations were scarce. A lot of evenings she was busy with something or another anyway- video games, novels, babysitting her sister, homework, or other less exciting endeavors. A quick tally of the evening proved that there was nothing that would prevent her from attending on this rare occasion. Count me in! I'll bring Meredith and Marcus. M&M! Don't tell them I called them that, she hurriedly replied via text even before she asked either to attend. Why wouldn't they want to celebrate such a joyous occasion?


"Pssst, Marcus. I just got invited to a graduation party. You'll come with me, right?" She flashed a vibrant smile that was warm and inviting. Were she a more scheming girl she might be able to try to charm the answer she desired out of her senior. As it was her words lacked any sort of honeyed coyness that many her age had adapted when speaking with the opposite gender. A youthful innocence permeated her words and expressions. Certainly she read dark, brooding novels, but she refused to believe the world was as sly and sinister as it was painted. Puberty had not bypassed her, but the crazed emotions that usually accompanied it certainly had.


"I even got everyone gifts," she admitted as she pulled out a bag that had been tucked under her seat. A visually impaired invalid could take a guess at the contents. The edges straining at the plastic were indicative of books- several books- being crammed into it. It was obviously only meant to hold clothing and it was a miracle it had even survived this far. Perhaps Jenna's determination was woven into the strained and stretched handles. As she placed the bag in her lap, a few tomes tried to make a hasty exit. The first one slipped out and Jenna dropped both her GameBoy and her phone on the ground as she hurriedly tried to catch it. Leaning over tilted the mouth of the bag forward as well, encouraging other books to try to make their escape.


THUMP THUMP THUMP.


Jenna had made a mess. The helicopter moms were not pleased. Jenna apologetically tossed around smiles as she tried to gather up her presents a second time. Oh well, most of the people she meant to cheer for had been called anyway.


@L u n a , @Jason Rorstiel , @Saito , @Killigrew

 

[Sol]

Marcus Orwell, Grad Ceremony


Ah yes, little miss shut in, otherwise known as Jenna Anderson. Marcus forgot that she was seated beside him, he was too busy trying to pick out a certain someone from the crowd of graduates. It kind of worried him that she wasn't around. Charleene did have the habit of doing as she pleased, hopefully the reason behind her disappearance was more legitimate than her usual answers. He always made it a point to look after the young blonde but it didn't seem that she attended the ceremony at all. Shame, she was going to graduate today to, maybe even hear him come clean with how he feels.


"A party, Jenna? You? Go to a party, this I have to see. Count me in!"


She flashed him her signature smile that usually captivates the hearts of a live studio audience, he tried to flash the same as well as an enthusiastic reply. Marcus was already accustomed to her habits but he only ever had eyes for one girl, who wasn't in the graduation right now. Still though, if Jenna was going to a party then she'd need all the moral support she could get. The young girl still had much to learn though, she was usually buried in her games and books. This party may be a pivotal point for her.


Jenna even proudly said she brought everyone gifts. Although he wasn't exactly sure the kinds of gifts she brought were things the others would genuinely like. However, Marcus couldn't exactly say that as a certainty, the only person he knows in the graduation ceremony was absent for it. That and Owens should also be somewhere in the crowd. She put the bag of books on her lap but somehow couldn't keep it balanced, so some began tumbling out of the bag, when she tried to recapture the escapees, the bag fell and everything was flowing out of the bag. He shook his head and chuckled for a bit. He helped her gather the books that escaped the bag.


"A bit too ambitious are we Jenna? Well I think the Grad Ceremony is about to end no? By the way, have you seen Charleene around, I can't seem to find her and she seemed excited in her own right when she texted me about the grad ceremony."

 

[Syrenrei]

Just Outside Hyr- The Half-Elf Man-clones (aka "the twins")


I am going to make Arcden red and Greyden blue to help distinguish their lines.


Zaria's assurances didn't placate Greyden entirely, but he tried to wrench himself away from more dour thoughts. There were clothes to be bought if they were going to journey into Hyr and they were certainly a more pressing manner. It was a shame, really. It was so much more comfortable to looser and lighter garments than the bulky, furry, thick ones that pervaded the north. Arcden clearly had the same distaste given the slight twitching at the edges of his mouth. Their human mother meant they endured the frigid temperatures slightly better than their entirely elven kin by a slim margin.


"I will purchase the cloaks for Greyden and myself," Arcden simply stated. It was unlikely that Zaria was personally burdened with concern over the twins' necessities and finances. Still, he did not want her to feel in any way obligated. Truth be told, it had become increasingly difficult to find blades that met his current expectations. Many swords that were offered to him by merchants were downgrades, some a sidegrade of sorts, and very rarely a miniscule upgrade. This last trade had been relatively inexpensive. It was true that he had been quoted a price exceeding the actual value- but the merchant had quickly discovered that Arcden was a very informed customer that was very committed to fairness. After Greyden's exhaustive scolding, he had not wanted to interject that at least half of his coin was still resting on the inside of his belt.


Greyden shot Arcden a look before turning his attention to their female companion. "Iesti, huh? They just love us there," Greyden bitterly remarked. Their home country valued the skill that they had come to show over time. It was not as if their were social lepers. Both of the brothers held their mother in high regard, however, and it had caused more than a few scuffles. Some were willing to overlook their parentage in admiration of their accomplishments, while some could not help but look down upon the 'half-lings.' "Maybe you should take Arcden as your date. I don't think he's ever had one." Arcden rolled his eyes at the accusation but didn't deny it. Unlike his sibling, he had no taste for brothels or ladies who were paid to be attentive. It would be callous to point out that Greyden was just as lacking without inclusion of those trysts.


"We can wait to decide after the next client," Arcden recommended. There was no need to get ahead of themselves. It would be nice to keep working, but a respite was not such a poor idea either. War was brewing on the horizon and there were bound to be volumes of assassination requests when the battles began. Iesti was not a vacation spot but it was at least home. No one would be foolhardy enough to engage the twins on their own terrain. In fact, Zaria was even more of a boon to them in Iesti. While her loyalties lay in her country, she'd let them know if their relaxation was jeopardized by anyone with grand ambitions. The she-elf certainly didn't wear her feelings on her sleeve as Greyden did, but he believed she cared for them in her own special way. Was this what it was like to have a sister?


"Which way is the town?" Greyden's words interrupted Arcden's musings. Even before there was a chance for response he was marching forward, anxious to get their journey underway.


@Auren 
Graduation- The graceful and elegant Jenna


"A man's worth is no greater than his ambitions," Jenna quoted sheepishly. It hadn't been her intention to make such a scene, but here she was crouching over her seat with Marcus, gathering up the carefully selected books. "I think that she was sick or something. I'm not sure, but you can check my phone if you want. I think it's under..." she moved a book whose title was covered with blue wrapping paper and a hand-written tag for Lily. The case for her phone was quite durable so there had been no real damage other than a little bit of embarrassment that was already quickly passing. With a few swipes it was tossed towards his person for his perusal. Unfortunately, her text messages were numerous, unorganized, and only a few of them were likely to say anything about his beloved.


"What's so weird about me going to a party? I know lots of people! I've attended virtual parties," she added with the false belief this would bolster his opinion of her preparation. As the last of the books was pushed back into the sad excuse for a bag, she thoughtfully picked up her GameBoy. For the briefest moment her eyes drifted off, lost in a deep thought that went unspoken and unacknowledged. A moment later and she was smiling again, tucking the handheld game console into her pocket for safekeeping. Instead of wearing a dress or anything even remotely classy and feminine, she was wearing jeans, sneakers, a T-shirt, and a hooded sweatshirt for when got chilly. Even her purse was a battered brown leather accessory lacking any real aesthetic value. Jenna had selected it based on its size- it could hold quite a few of her portable sources of entertainment. It wasn't exactly party appropriate attire to say the least.


"Food, soda, music- it doesn't sound that hard." Oh, what a delicate sense of 'party.' Even if it was a totally clandestine affair, she hadn't considered that others her age might be drinking alcohol... or worse. Her kindness would not be a sufficient defense were she to go off to college someday and attend a party. A flashing 'future victim' sign might as well be flashing on her head. "I'm going to invite Meredith- I bet she'd love to go too!" Meredith Hall was not exactly what anyone would consider 'party material.' In the slightly delusional, magical, imaginative world of Jenna, everyone was party material.


@Sol

 

[Auren]

xBoldan - Just Outside Hyr - Zaria L’instxxxxxxx






Zaria nodded. Of course Arcden would have the funds for a cloak for him and his brother. They were lucky in being half-human, she thought. They held the advantages of both races in a strange mix. Turning to Greyden in his bitterness, she placed her hand on his shoulder and squeezed lightly but firm. She knew of how the Iesti treated him and his brother, the thoughts of Iesti elves being superior to all other beings. She grew up with a father that preached many of the same principles, but she could not judge beings whose only downfall was fate. She was fond of the two of them, they were the only people she felt comfortable talking extensively around. Somehow, interactions with them didn’t tire her as interactions with others did. She let Greyden’s shoulder go.





”I could take you both as my guests, but that would cause quite the stir,”

she thought about it for a moment.

”But that would be better than playing princess.”

She frowned slightly before she nodded at Arcden as he made a fair point. They could decide after the next client.




As Greyden began to walk, Zaria’s lips curved into a lopsided grin again.

”Grey,”

she called as she pointed to his right.

”The town is that way.”

She started to walk in the correct direction, glancing back at the boys to see if they followed before continuing.




The town was only a few miles away, and when they reached it, Zaria immediately walked to the merchant’s shop. An old man with large, bushy eyebrows grinned at her from his table. She began her barter with her totems, settling to sell them for a compromised trade and price. She had a skill with talking to merchants, though the interaction usually wore on her. The cloak she received was thick enough. She would still suffer from a slight chill, but it would only be uncomfortable, not deadly.





”I’m going to find the client’s location while you shop. I’ll meet up with you later with the information,”

she said before leaving the shop. Quick and efficient as always.




She swung her new cloak over her thinner cloak, clasping it just under her neck. Fur covered its edges and tickled her neck. It was heavier than her usual clothes, and she rolled her shoulders as she readjusted. She pulled a piece of paper out from one of her inside pockets of the thin cloak. Glancing over the information, then glancing about the town, she tried to determine where the client's home would be located. The client lived on the north of the town, in a house with a large tree in front. Looking around she noticed many yards with large timbers. She began to walk down the streets, examining each house for the largest tree, assuming that would be the proper home for a rich client.

 

[Killigrew]

Ludovic of Hyr


North-Western Upolo Border




​

Bandits, riffraff, the plague of humanity.


These claims were not without truth. Ludovic had witnessed the horrors of human depravity firsthand. The burned village of Estans two years back, the woman he'd saved in Trebon, the acts of the murderous bandit king that fell by the Seurn's blade all stood stark in his mind as he stared upon their nest.


These lawless men would meet law.


Ludovic guaranteed it.


He and a small band of fellow mercs stood atop an outcropping of land that surveyed the bandit cave deep in Upolo's northern forest. They'd been tracking the group for weeks. Some for the hefty price on the leader's head, some for the glory of it, and one for justice.


Seurn stepped up beside Ludovic, his blue eyes flashing. He was a man of right and wrong, one that saw the world with starry eyes, dividing it into just and criminal. And this did not waver in the face of carnage and senseless wrongdoing. His ideals would cut through the grey like a flashing of light in a shadowed room.


Ludo was glad to have such a man by his side. He would not be found an enemy by cause of coin or treasure. The years had not been kind in the way of friends, but they had tested Seurn right and true. The scar marring the man's mouth was an everpresent testimony to this.


"Are you planning on donning a tunic after this?" Were Seurn's first words, his gaze not dropping from the cave ahead. "Methinks you'd fit in a bit better with all the normal folk. And you know what? Maybe a trim, too. Yeah, that'd do well for you."


Ludo snorted. "Grow a beard, and I may take that advice."


Seurn stroked his bare face in sudden self-conscience. To Upolonians, a beard was likened unto a reinbear's horns split in union for man and wife. And without it, few were regarded as men.


The mercs behind them snickered, sour lot that they were. Ludo silenced them with a grunt and a frown. But Seurn was not abashed.


"Low blow, friend." Seurn said. But the grin he wore on his boyish face was in contradiction.


Ludo raised a hand.


The bandits just outside the cave began to move. Scratching their smarmy behinds and belching, they rested spears against their shoulders and meandered into the darkness of the cave.


A changing of the watch.


Now was the time to strike.


Ludo raised one fisted hand, and rotated it once. The mercs moved accordingly, spreading out over the expanse of land, surrounding the cave in one circular half-ring.


Ludo stood at the head. Seurn beside him, his blade already drawn.


A battle cry bellowed out of the Hyrian, and the men all joined suit. They raised their shields and slammed steel against it, the cacophany of clattering noise rampaging against the forest calm.


The bandits rushed from the cave, and staggered at the torch light ablaze all around them.


Ludo bellowed again, now running forward, and the mercs all charged with him, their blades held high and victory near. The song of battle erupted in that small space.

 

[Jays]

Thane, Graduation. Right at the front.

​

Thane looked at the screen of his phone warily. He had a thing for all-bold text, and that was exactly what he got from Jenna's message. He just couldn't stand the feeling of someone yelling at him while reading it, and it was not a pleasant image to think of. How did she get his number anyway? Thane didn't have much friends, and he certaily hadn't been going around giving his phone number to everyone he knew. Or may be...Lily. It had to be her. And it also had to be her who suggest a party, with all of the other graduates. He sighed in resignation, knowing full well that she would make him go no matter how much he said otherwise, and she would succeed too. Lily had this weird way of making people want to do what she want them to do, changing their mind in a flash, and Thane, even having years knowing her, certaily wasn't immune, if not to say that it worked best on him. It might be that she understood him very well, them being childhood friend and all. It might be that it was just the way she was, happy and carefree, too optimistic for her own good. Hell, she practically glowed with cheerfulness and energy.


"Thane Solcier!"


Not particularly feeling any nervousness or even any significance in the ritual, Thane just stood up, go to the stage, took his diploma and went back to his seat. He couldn't really understand the emotional scene that many others had. It was just a ceremony, they didn't actually escape from life or anything. No big deal. What was a big deal, however, was that his parents sat right next to him. With them being there, Thane, usually already freakishly formal, paid extra attention to avoid every mistake he could make, even the smallest one. Some how his parents always catch it when he made the slightest considered inappropriate gesture. Thane had already get the evil eyes from his mother for pulling out his phone. In their view, he could either be perfect or be a failure, which they will remind him every day for the rest of his life. Going on this trip obviously did not make the perfect list. In his head, he had already calculating how to get around his parents' guard withoug setting off any life-ruining alarm.

 

[Saito]

Kazuto - Graduation




​

Now the graduation was nearing its end. The students had accepted their diplomas and gave the Principal their farewells before returning to their seats. Kazuto stands and leaves the auditorium. Not caring for the rest of the students to finish up, he was just ready to get out of there and go home. As he walked past the teachers they watched shockingly, but made no move as they realize that Kazuto is no longer their student to handle. The eighteen year old leaves the graduation officially after stepping out the doors, slowly he begins walking to his car as he slides the keys out of his pocket.


Why is this so important to everyone anyways? Who in the Hell wants to stay this long, I have few friends but I watched them all get their diplomas and now I'm leaving, why stay to watch the rest?


Kazuto kept the thought in the back of his mind as he finally reached his Mitsubishi. Stopping in front of it, he turns and slightly sits on the hood of the black vehicle as he awaits everyones exit from the auditorium and out to their cars as well.

 

[Yannie]

Sage


Upolo, Before border to Hyr





The market had been extremely busy, bustling with customers trying to get the best deals on the goods they needed. Sage was skilled in trading, and had sold a plethora of her medicines and her aunt's handmade clothing at the little booth that she had set up. She was known for the effectiveness of her medicines, and was irrefutably one of the most skilled in the trade.


Now, as Sage headed to Hyr on her mare, she carried a large satchel that bulged with clinking vials of concoctions. The aroma the wafted from the bag was a mixture of sweetness and a certain bitterness that made her wrinkle her nose.

​

 

[VainRochester]

Franca Luidermos Stenhardt V


2 Years Ago




​

The letter fell to the ground, barely making a whisper as it touched the floor. The room was silent. The soldiers and those present had their eyes on her. The calm that fell on the room was not one of peace. Everyone could feel the force that radiated from the Princess. Her left hand fell limply to her side, as she bristled from the news. Slowly, she raised her right hand and curled it into a fist. Her head bowed, it was impossible to see if she was gritting her teeth in a show of anger or attempting to hold back her tears, or a mixture of both. She brought her fist down, slamming it on the long table in front of her. The stationery and decor that lined up the desk shook from the impact, some clattering onto the floor. Not one single being stirred to make any corrections to the change of scenery. All that filled the air was Franca's breathing, harsh and shallow, and hitched at parts. It was more than obvious that she was choking back the tears, and trying very hard to mask her sobs. She wanted to scream, to shout, to break everything in the room with her own two hands, anything she could do to quell this anger, this sorrow. She had never felt sad before. She had never felt the drop of her heart, the sudden plummet, when she laid her eyes on the words written upon the letter. Not once. The flood of such an emotion almost overwhelmed her. Almost.


Franca Stenhardt, sister of the deceased Ederra Stenhardt, looked up. Her eyes were turning bloodshot already and a dot of a tear had inched from her eye, betraying her attempts to hide all those emotions in a passively furious expression.


"She died in Upolo." Her voice was strained.


"Then we should descend on them and-"


"Shut the **** up. I'm talking." Franca snapped, silencing the advisor, and straightened up, her fist uncurled and shifting to her eyes to wipe away the tear. She took in a deep breath. A leader must not show weakness. She had to be strong. She had to be strong for her father. For Ederra. For Sernn. She couldn't let blind rage take over. She mustn't. That was what her opponents wanted. Her voice still quavered as she spoke. "I have to ask: who in ****s name would kill the Princess of Sernn in their own land? Following that logic, Upolo MAY have had a hand in this, but she is NOT responsible for the death of my sister. For an advisor, you're not very smart, are you? Making assumptions based on the source without thinking ahead? I should have you drawn and quartered!" Her voice steadied itself now, and the Franca that the people knew was slowly coming back to herself. She took in a deep breath and exhaled. She pointed her finger at the soldiers who brought in the letter.


"You guys. Where is Aldric? And where is the body?"


"In the courtyard, Your Highness." One of the soldiers answered.


"The body or Aldric?"


"The body."


"And Aldric?"


"He's....departed, Your Highness. He galloped off towards outside lands after Ederra's, bless her soul, death. Either in grief or anger, I cannot say."


Franca rubbed her temples. A true Sernnite. It paid to be more cautious, but her people weren't exactly known for their carefulness in handling personal affairs. She certainly wasn't going to be careful when she handled whoever took her beloved sister's life. The only one person in the family other than her father to love her back. She steeled herself, as she felt another pang of guilt and sorrow seep in. "I'll deal with Aldric when he returns. That is, IF he returns at all." She swallowed, and then continued. "Prepare a pyre."


----------


"We are gathered here today, my brothers and sisters of Sernn, in a melancholy air because of treachery and deceit in play within the shadows. We are gathered here today because the enemies of Sernn, the fools who would think us to buckle like weaklings, decided to take their first step. But mostly, we are gathered here today because one of us has fallen. She treads the sand, roams amongst you as a normal child. She is my sister, Ederra Keara Mara Stenhardt. Beset by rogues, she has perished.


"BUT MARK MY WORDS, SERNNITES. WE WILL NOT CRY. WE WILL NOT LET TEARS MOISTEN OUR SANDS. WE WILL NOT GO TO WAR. Not yet! We will prepare! We will muster our forces, and then we will CRUSH THEM. WE WILL SATE THE THIRSTY SANDS OF SERNN WITH THEIR BLOOD AS WE MARCH ATOP THEIR BODIES!


SISTER! HEAR MY WORDS AS YOUR ASHES RISE TO THE SKY TO BE ONE WITH OUR ANCESTORS! LOOK DOWN US, LOOK DOWN UPON ME, AS I TAKE MY BLADE FOR YOU. WE WILL GO TO WAR. I WILL BRING AS MUCH SUFFERING TO THEM WHO ARE RESPONSIBLE AS THEY HAVE WROUGHT UPON ME AND SERNN!


"SERNNITES, WE PREPARE FOR WAR. WILL YOU HELP US? WILL YOU CRAFT US THE FINEST STEEL AND ARMOR FOR US? WILL YOU DO ALL YOU CAN TO ENSURE OUR VICTORY AGAINST OUR ENEMIES THAT WOULD HARM OUR OWN?! WILL YOU NOT DO IT FOR ALL THOSE WHO HAVE LOST THEIR LIVES TO OUTSIDERS? THIS! THIS IS THE FINAL STRAW! SERNNITES, I BESEECH YOU, LEND ME YOUR AID!"





The collective roar that was the whole of Sernn in unison could have been heard across the desert that they lived in. And those who heard it, especially those who have forgotten, were reminded that no one, absolutely no one, **** with Sernn.


Franca Stenhardt V, lowered the torch to the pyre. In the shadow cast by the flames, no one could see the young girl that had always loved her younger sister, even if she wasn't borne of her own mother. Loved her as her own child, loved her since birth. Cared for her more than anyone could. No one could see the tears well up in the eyes of strong, powerful Franca. No one could see the same tears run down her cheeks as she shut her eyes. Not Franca, half the king's power. Not Franca, she whose nose began to run and sobs began to rise from her throat. No, not one single soul will see Franca, she who could fight her father and survive, break. Not the Franca that, when everyone had long left, and the remnants of her sister were blown away by the wind, collapsed to her knees, face in her hands. Not the Franca whose anguished wail pierced the night. Not the Franca whose knees scabbed because she knelt by the ashes from night til morning, never sleeping.


Not Franca. Not her at all.


Franca promised suffering to them who brought this to her.


Two years later, she would bring it to them.

​

 

[Cad]

Upolo Marketplace


As Ichi walked through the streets, talking to other children and elder Avis Vir, as a sign of respect taught to her by her parents, someone caught her eye. It was one of her used to be friends, the one who introduced her into thievery. She kept walking in her same direction however, heading through the marketplace and to the outskirts of Upolo to go watch the new travelers come inside Upolo. It was a habit from her thief days, and she couldn't shake the habit.


However, as she ventured away, her older brother grabbed her arm, and escorted her back to where he was ordering groceries for dinner that night. When will he ever learn that I'm never in the same place for long. She thought to herself, quietly and stealthily making her way through the crowd of people in the street. Ichadta made her way outside Upolo without even a second thought, climbing some rocks by a nearby pond to get a better look at the road's travelers.


The wind picked up slightly at that moment, and from there, she smelled a sweet scent, savory, herbal, and it had a bit of bitterness to it. She was highly curious of what it was, and so, jogging up the road and through the trees, she followed the scent, intrigued by her curiosity.

 

[Yannie]

Sage


Upolo Marketplace


Sage peered curiously behind her, staring at the old satchel that strained by its straps with tons of jars and bottles. The bag was beginning to tear, and she gave an exasperated sigh. Her mind suggested making a makeshift bag of the sweater she wore, but Sage decided to wait until it was fully necessary; she was running late anyway.


But then-- she saw movement.


It wasn't the same movement as the passerby's around her, it might have been an animal for all she knew, but it came from the nearby trees. In the moment she paused, the satchel attached to the saddle let out a pitiful wail of tearing, and all her vials crashed to the ground, exploding in confetti-like hues. Sage cried out as gasps erupted from the people around her.

 

[Cad]

Ichi, who had somehow crawled onto a branch of a tree, could now smell the full force of the aroma. It gave her a small little dazed feeling now, and she moved closer towards the edge of the branch, peering out over a multitude of leaves. She saw a dark red, almost magenta, color haired elf. She also saw glass spread all over the ground, and colorful spots dotting in between the broken glass.


However, her dazed state was hurtful for her eyes, and Ichi tried to keep them closed, but instead, fell out of the tree as she tried to back away from the elf.


She lay on her side, out of the daze due to the hard landing on her side, staring up at the branch she was just in.


"I never could balance that well." she said to herself.

 

[Yannie]

Sage jumped at the sound of crashing from the brush, where she had initially seen the movement. She swung herself down from the mare, picking up the few bottles that hadn't crashed on the way down. A deep frown twisted her face, and she peered absently toward the sound. When she saw the child on the ground, her destroyed medicines were momentarily forgotten.


"Are you alright?" Sage asked, more demanded, approaching the child. She didn't wait for a response, checking the girl's arms and legs for bruises, and opened a vial she knew would help alleviate any pain. She didn't bother to ask if the girl actually wanted it, and pressed the thick concoction to her lips.

 

[Cad]

Ichi moved the awful concoction and instead moved through the brush towards the broken bottles. She took a deep breath, and shook her head afterwords.


"This smell is unique and wonderful." she said. She sat down by it, picking up a couple of the glass pieces and examining them. She turned back around and glanced at the elf, starting to say a few words.


"What is this stuff, miss?"


She took her hood off and played with her bangle, as if it was bugging her. It wasn't, but still, she does it now and then.

 

[Yannie]

Sage smirked, glancing at the watch she had in her purse, with the broken latch She was hours late to deliver these medicines, and would have to send a letter to reschedule hopefully.


"That," she pointed "is a mixture of some of the finest herbs you will ever see. Now destroyed." She tossed her braid behind her shoulder, suppressing the true anger she felt and her own carelessness, her smirk evolving into a grin. The child was minuscule compared to Sage's tall figure, and she looked down at her curiously.


"What is your name?"

 

[Cad]

She looked up at the tall woman, and let out a quiet chirp at her size.


"My name is Ichadta, but only my famliy calls me that. You may call me Ichi."


Ichi stood up, glancing at the tall elf.


"And your name is?"

 

[Sol]

Camori, Ituro City, Ituro.


There was a limited amount of madness Camori would tolerate. That limit had just been reached. He said nothing and simply stood up and walked out the room. He walked past the smirking Valesti, away from the elf who had been swayed by her words. They could have their little farce. However, he did not share their confidence. Ituro is no longer safe.


He had hoped that it would not come to this but there was no other choice. Development can wait but self defense is the first priority. Hilde was both right and wrong about Franca. She could either descend on Upolo or descend on Upolo riding throne of Iturian bones. It is known that people fear the Stenhardts. That Sernn is a nation founded on fear, discipline and deceit. The last one was etched out of existence when the Stenhardts came into power.


It isn't just the Sernnites that fear her, anyone with a brain would fear her and her family's legacy. Had it been someone else bringing a different kind of news he would have urged an alliance with Upolo with Hyr at the vanguard to strike at Sernn and eliminate the current dynasty. He could handle the shame of bowing down to the Kaiser Ein and submitting to the Elder Lazarus for the sake of the land but Hilde was another case. No the woman would plunge the whole world into chaos for the sake of a thirty year old grudge.


His advisor, Eruso, had caught him walking out the great hall into the central market place.


"Send word, we double the training regimen of the current militia and everyone is to prepare for an invetable attack from Sernn or Upolo or both. Domestic projects are hereby halted.....Valesti incited a war."


Sent from my GT-I9295 using Tapatalk

 

[Killigrew]

Meredith Hall


Graduation




​

"Now, we are able to face this future world. We will be contenders, graduates. Our lives have served a purpose and it is because of the help of our teachers that we can begin to chase our dream."


"I hope that you reach for the sky that has no limits."


"Congratulations, Class of 2014!"


The speech-giving student, the valedictorian, one tear-streaked Virginia Woolf, gripped her hands over white sheets of paper held in front of her. She let out a long, low breath, and raised her head. Mereth could only see the back of her curly blonde head, but the choked edge to her voice had spurred the girl's imagination. And Mereth was stimulated by a curious impulse to see her, amethyst eyes rapt in attention upon her.


The orator took up her papers and, head lowered, retreated back to her seat in the front row, where a teacher rubbed consoling circles into her back. Mereth saw only a glimpse, but it was enough. Virginia's cheeks were blossomed red, lips raised in an overbearing emotion, eyes crinkled with tears. Her arms twisted, angling toward her face even now.


The dark girl took this in with an absorbed stare. She wondered if she should cry, too. Was it was the normal thing to do? Why did they drip such tears from their face in apparent agonized sweetness? Perhaps some hidden meaning was associated with the expression. It seemed only a lesser portion of the student body had been so affected, but would it be amiss to let this chance slip by? Mereth tapped her chin in thought.


A rustling sound from ahead of her, and the blur of movement attracted her gaze. Black hair atop a slim boy's frame rustled as he moved to his feet and walked sideways down the aisle, shuffling to the end of it. A teacher moved to warn him, but the boy, Kaz, Mereth realized, was too quick and too determined. He escaped, dropping down from the stage and out the exit.


How strange.


But little time was given to dwell on the upset. The principal took up the abandoned microphone.


"Students, please, remain seated. Only stand once asked to. You will be dismissed by row and lead by a teacher downstage." The principal said. He raised a hand proudly, waving once in a sharp jerking of his arm. "Congratulations, graduates!"


A boisterous cheer rose up from the parental, friends-ridden crowd. And the descent into the swarm began.


Row by row, the graduates were lead down through a railed walkway adorned by flowers. Parents and relatives and assorted invitees surged the guardrail, attacking their chosen students with flowers, balloons, tears and cries of joy. The way was quickly clogged with students clutching one another, caught up in the throes of farewells and adieus. But Mereth flitted past it all. There was only one goal, one person that she must go to before any else. She slid under the roped barrier. She could see her father at the edge of the flocking, anticipating her, a book in one hand and a gift in the other.


She only stopped when she reached him. Only when she was close enough to feel his breath on her neck, to intertwine her arms over his shoulders, to have his hands press up against her narrow waist.


He was every bit the proud father. Beaming red, sparkling tears, a huge, toothy grin. It was enough to make Mereth wish she had cried, after all.


"My dear, dear girl... I am so proud of you."


As he enclosed her hand in his two, hunger churned in his expression.


"Tonight, then?" Mereth breathed. She held her father's blood-colored present in hand.


"We must celebrate, the two of us." His eyes twinkled. "But all in due time."


He took from her hand the rolled paper of recognition and placed one slim black rectangle in the bared palm.


"Everything has its own time." He said.


Mereth turned it over, and it lit up with a vibratory buzz. A message. A party.


A smile creeped in.