The Queen's Madness (Open)

[Veyd Sahvoz]

Erikur Cetrix

​

That certainly was a relief. At least the man was alright. As he walked closer to him Erikur began to get an eerie feeling, he saw the mans lips move as if he were speaking to him but it was like they were underwater and everything the man said was muffled. Erikur's eyes slowly drifted to the man's sword he was carrying and for a moment he actually wondered what it was that made it look...Different? His expression was still the same as his head looked up and he finally caught on to the man's word. "Apologizes," He said and handed back the sword to it's owner "I saw you stumbling back here and I wondered what was wrong but it looks like you're fine now. To answer your previous question, I am Erikur Cetrix. A mage scholar and a philosopher. Yourself?" He asked as he held his hand out for a handshake. That was something. Stumbles back as if he's about to be sick and now he looks fine? It's wonder... He thought while waiting to find out the man's name. So many questions about this whole city and it's people he had but most might go unanswered.


@Halohbottech

 

[LadyArdent]

Touched his hand eagerly. Clasping it within her own if allowed. A look of genuine trust in those blue eyes of her own. She spoke again, "I would love for that to happen. I live for what I go after. As in not so much the person, but the nourishment I gain afterwards I feel so alive from that. It would last me days. I have enough coin to pay for whatever I may need. I'm glad I decided to stay. A queen who isn't running her Kingdom with peace isn't worth fighting for. So I'm all for those who want that peace..." Amunet let go of his hands so she doesn't go past that limitation of invading personal space.


She spoke as if alive for the first time tonight.. "I want peace for those who need peace. That is all I know it would do me good stay. As for the person you can offer I would very much like that. I've been a bit off since this morning. I was unsettled. I'm sorry we abandoned the book some of what I did get to see is actually quite beautiful. Yet what we just discussed is more important. Again thank you Allan for everything.." Amunet smiled as she had reached for the book and patting it a little to emphasize her words. The woman would do all that she could within her means to help him.
​

@ianbabyyy

 

[KillThemAll]

Joran Stronham


Knight of the Queen's Guard


"The Steel Wolf"

Joran stood there, arms crossed and back pressed against the intricately


designed wall adjacent to the recently shut door to Asavar's quarters.


He had Vowforger, still worn and painted with the bark of the oak


tree Joran had taken his rage out on, tucked comfortably in his wolf-hide


and steel sheath. The arcanite blade vibrated with every small hint of movement


against the steel within the sheath, something Joran had grown used to after


a decade of using the specially made container for the blade.


He had been granted it as a gift from Halfthor Giantfeller, a legendary blacksmith


in Volkspear, a remote but well-known Hold in the North, to the East of Tyrsva,


West of Swordstone and North of Odinnrys. It sat in the Godly Peaks, the tallest


steppes of stone on the world, reaching far beyond the clouds and into the deepest areas


of the sky with their icy and threatening peaks. As a rite of passage, like any other warrior


in the Volkspear Clans and Houses, Joran had to scale one of the mighty mountains in


order to prove his might. He had chosen Tyr's Reach, the tallest of the tallest, and he had


climbed it. After earning the respect and honored trust of the Northern Holds, Joran


helped the people of Volkspear fend off the chilling Akaviri tribes in the deadly forests,


the Lost Dwarves in the Deep Below beneath the snow, and the dominative Giants that


terrorized the lands and claimed the Godly Peaks as their own. Most notably, though,


he had slain Fleshbane, the White Wolf, an old victim of lycanthropy who had terrorized


those in Volkspear for ages. It had earned him his well-known nickname, and his


sheath...


Joran ran his left hand along the finely made piece of equipment


before shifting his gaze back at the others. He was too tired, agitated,


and sadly nostalgic to really confront Aster or any of the others, simply


there for the sake of being there, too stubborn to leave without a cue.




@ianbabyyy

@Cosmo

@xEmoBunnehx

@Rui

​

 

[Sluggodile]

Black Lightning Grepher

Dai simply nodded, as he took his blade back from Erikur, though reluctance was great within himself. Unlike Erikur, he felt nothing as the blade came in contact with his hand. He was long used to its spell, and as such had no need for himself to fall under it. As he sheathed his blade, however, he felt an odd request from the blade. He was unable to make out what that request was, however, as it simply hummed its same old song within his mind. His face was stoic as he looked back to Erikur.


"Apology accepted, Erikur." He grunted, firmly gripping Erikur's hand within his own. "I am Dai Grepher. Known throughout the lands as The Blackblood Knight. My blade refers to me as Black Lightning Grepher, however." He paused, wondering if it was logical to explain why his blade could speak. It would be, but not at this time. Not just after Erikur had handled it. Later, perhaps, when all was calm once more. "As of now, I am a masterless knight, searching for one I deem that needs my services. Now, if we are to talk, let's talk in a place a bit more suited to such action." With that, he moved around Erikur, headed back to the tavern. He felt uneasy back here. The people would help to mask this unease.





@Veyd Sahvoz

 

[Murlock Chief]

He walked through the castle well not as much walked as tried not to fall down he was rather drunk. He was covered in blood and in a bag slung over his shoulder was a bag with a human head in it he looked at the bag once more his face a lunatics smile "thought you could brew alcohol without a license could you?" he laughed loudly at that the surprise on the mans face he wondered if it still remained as he reached into the bag a took out the head and sat down. One of the passing servants screamed "must have seen that I don't wear anything under the kilt" he thought as he brought his legs up so no one would accidently get flashed as they passed him. he laughed again the head extremely close to him he looked like he was cuddling it. "isn't that funny" he said aloud to no one really he passed out like that head against his chest and covered in blood with a smile that didn't go away as he slept his last thoughts before passing out were "look he kept the look on his face". and he had the look on the heads face was one of pure terror. @Rui @Cosmo @ianbabyyy

 

[Murlock Chief]

He wakes up looking around he quickly figures out where he is and what he's doing "shit shit shit" his usual smile disappearing from his face as he looks around he looks. Down to find the head gone and him self dry "those maids" he says aloud to him self. He stands up even though he's mostly clean he's in no shape to be in front of the queen he quickly heads of to the guards quarters to get a fresh kilt and to wash the smell of booze and blood off him self.

 

[Veyd Sahvoz]

Erikur Cetrix

​

"Very well then." Said Erikur as he followed behind Dai back into the tavern area. He wondered if this man might possibly have answers for questions he had about this city but he wouldn't ask these questions just yet. No. He wanted to know if the rumors about the Queen were true first before he asked any other question. That was why he came to Draede in the first place was too see if these rumors were even true to begin with and from what he has gathered they might be. He took a seat once more at the one he had sat at before and asked a nearby waitress for a cup of tea. Peppermint to be exact. He motioned for Dai to talk a seat "Do sit then. I have a question that I'm assuming you might have some knowledge of. Are these rumors of the Queen true?" He asked sitting back in his chair.


@Halohbottech

 

[KillThemAll]

Viston Whytewynd


"The Fourth-Born"


On the Whytewynd-Lathien Border




The fourth-born, who had no future, doomed to forever serve his father,


and then his brothers, as nothing more than a commander for the entirety


of his life, growled as he punched his chest. He hyped himself up, vigor


running through him as his metal-covered fist clashed with his steel chestplate


before he got onto his steed, Mayta. The brown mare reared back as Viston grabbed


hold of the rains, stomping its hooves into the wet dirt beneath them as an


old man slowly approached the Whytewynd. He offered the horse-rider a vial


of bubbling scarlet liquid, which the warrior quickly accepted. He'd nod towards


the retreating old pyromancer, popping off the top of the vial before pouring it onto his


steel sword. The liquid would burst into flames as it contacted the air, strangely


and unnaturally clinging onto the man's blade.


In the distance, six hundred soldiers watched as Viston raised the burning blade


and yelled out, driving Mayta across the dirt as he leaned to the left, dragging


the steel weapon across to form a line. The dragonfyre essence that contacted the


ground formed flames, a wall of fire erupting to ignite the line Viston was cutting.


"This is the border, you are not to cross it, lest


you be named a traitor and flayed! By the Gods'


will, I will carry out justice to all deserters!",


the angry young man would yell out to the tense


soldiers. His scarlet hair flowed in the strong winds and


light rain as Mayta continued her sprint through the mud.


By the end of the sprint, Viston had urged Mayta to stop with


a tug at the leather reins, causing the horse to rear back and kick into the air.


Viston's blade had been completely destroyed by this time, the


only remaining part being that untouched by the dragonfyre; the sword


handle. Viston threw it into the dirt, mere feet away from his nearest


men, before riding off, leaving behind the glistening wall of fire as he


made his way back to his war tent.
​

 

[Murlock Chief]

he was a guard for the queen but only allowed to guard the castle in a crisis funny enough they paid by the hour . So he mostly acted as a bounty hunter not much respect from other guards but after a walking in with 15 ears only from the right side of the head most stop making comments though most of the bigger guards and the community at large didn't know him. Mostly because they no one survived and not guards and allegedly no other bounty hunters came with him. He got out of the castle and headed toward the bounty board though the who was left was extremely illusive or not worth much he sighs grabbing some the smaller ones he would be covered in blood by the end of the hour.

 

[awriternamedian]

Her back stiffened, head whipping towards the sound of the man's voice, teeth nearly bared. "I would die first. Whether by an ally's hand or by my own. I will never let the Queen get her claws in me." Her voice was hard, cold, a tone that very rarely came out. They'd certainly discussed the possibility of the Queen getting her hands on Emmony, and it was a unanimous agreement that they would do anything to prevent it. Not only because of her abilities, but because she was the only person in the rebellion who knew of everyone and everything. It helped her to keep track, and offer guidance.


She took a few deep calming breaths, trying to focus on the woman who was speaking to her. At the interesting game, she tilted her head to the side. It seemed a little like the woman was digging for information, but the thought was interesting in and of itself. "Alright," she finally said. "It sounds interesting. I'm curious how well I'll do with it. I go first?"


She thought for a long moment, trying to figure out what to offer. If they went back and forth a couple of times, it would make for an interesting exchange. "Alright, I have them. I'm afraid of heights. I've never been outside of this city. I can speak three languages." She'd start easy and uninteresting.


@SirFlabberghaspy @Beowulf


At her request, Caelyn froze up. Oh, gods, she wanted him to go find things. They all thought he was a servant here. So they assumed he would be able to find things. He didn't work here, he couldn't find things. He could feel his skin tremble, and he was glad he was wearing clothes that well covered him. What should he do? What could he do? He couldn't just sit here like an ass. He certainly couldn't go off and look for things. They needed things now, they couldn't afford for him to be confusedly wandering the castle.


Oh, gods. He was stuck in the Queen's castle, in a room full of people loyal to the Queen. Two of which were large and well armed and definitely warriors. And swords. They had swords. Her heart pounded in her chest. Her? Him? Him, he was definitely a him right now. Did it matter? Male or female, they were gonna die soon. There was no chance they would make it out of here. No no, no, they would, they just had to not act suspicious. He. He had to not act suspicious. And that started with answering her.


"I can certainly help with the second part, but I'm sorry, Lady Aura, I wouldn't know where to find a needle and thread," he responded softly, hands clenching and unclenching nervously. There was a chance that a servant wouldn't know where that type of thing was. Right? Right. He had to be right. She did. He? Yes, he. He had to be right. Or they'd be suspicious.


@KillThemAll @Rui @xEmoBunnehx @Cosmo

 

[Murlock Chief]

he finished half a platinum earned they were hiding in a warehouse ALOAD of them at least two dozen. who hides in a warehouse with all his criminal friend so stupid no wonder they were low paying bounty's he wonders into a pub the queens madness he thinks covered in blood he sits at the bar smiling his eyes wide open his smile creepy as all hell he looks straight forward silently waiting for service. @ianbabyyy

 

[Cosmo]

The Obsidian Executioner

​

Asavar blinked once, then twice, as he wasn't quite sure what just happened. The seamstress leaned back, arching her lower back to look at him and the front of her dress, no longer held together by the straps on the back, tumbled down. The pert, white breast were on full display for more then a few moments before she became aware of him, the deep red blush spilling across her entire body as she fell back down, pressing the breast that filled his vision moments before into the mattress. He shook his helmed head a few times, dispelling whatever just happened... an odd event among an odder evening.


With a great heave of his shoulders, Asavar relented and placed the roll of cloth next to her should she change her mind. He wouldn't force her to bite down on it as it was her choice, he wasn't sure if she was trying to put on a brave face, but there was no need, he was well aware of the pain and what he had tried to do was more akin to mercy then pity.


Asavar stepped back as Lady Aura seemed to take charge of the situation, willing to do what the servant did not and what he could not do. Once more it seemed the gods and fates aligned to mock him as just as he stepped back, coming to rest behind her, the small seer lurched onto his high bed, crawling hands and knees to move to the seamstress and... well, the cloak he had loaned her did not cover much. His eyes trailed up her small, arched feet to her well formed calves, up to her soft white thighs and finally even higher. His large hand twitched, grasping and opening as he stared unsure what to do, what to say, or what, exactly, was going on in the world at that moment in time. When the seer, finally it seemed, shifted her position, the cloak fell back down to cover the assets that had gripped his attention so thoroughly.


He blinked a few times, within his helm, to clear his mind. He tilted his head as he heard the servant give their excuse, didn't know where needles where which was odd, as he could easily find on in the seamstress quarters or in the healers chambers, but the boy did look young, Asavar wouldn't be surprised if it was effecting him. Not wanting to leave his room and the sensitive papers that littered his desk, he half turned to look at the Old Man who was leaning against the wall, grateful taht, it appeared, he had not seen the... well, it didn't matter.


"Joran, go to the old hag and acquire some needles and inform her to come to my chambers to see to her wayward patient," Asavar ordered just as much to give the old man something to do as to clear up the issue of the missing needle.


@xEmoBunnehx @KillThemAll @ianbabyyy @Rui

 

[KillThemAll]

Joran Stronham


Knight of the Queen's Guard


"The Steel Wolf"




Joran continued his gaze for a few more seconds, his reliving of the past


through his dozing trance broken suddenly as his consciousness pulled through


and forced him to jolt awake. He'd shift his gaze over towards the giant, sighing


lowly before yawning, the bear-like sound accompanying the rise of his tired


and dopey head.


"I'll get her," Joran murmured tiredly, grabbing at his unique helmet. The hanging piece


of apparel would soon be detached from Joran's belt, finding its way onto the man's


head, blanketing it with a coat of cold and wet metal. The warrior sighed once again,


still bitter and tired, as he stood up straight. With the absence of the wall to support his


back, Joran let out a wince as slight pain bit at his tailbone, something that had always


bothered him.


Shaking his head, he'd turn and grip the handle of Asavar's door, pulling at it to


reveal the rainy and raven-black outdoors of the night. Joran turned to eye the


others hollowly, his revealed right eye glistening in an obvious urge to say something as it


stood out from the rest of his armored body. Joran sighed and turned, walking out of the


quarters. He gave up on talking, he was too tired, to worn, to coherently think.


Joran would reach behind him with his left hand, shutting the half of the door he had


popped out to escape the office back into place. Afterwords, he'd roll his shoulders, and begin


walking off to go find Mother Alyara. The old woman couldn't have gotten anywhere


far off, after all...


The old warrior grunted, smirking at his strange fate. He had lost everything, traveled


the world, and become one of its greatest fighters only to be stuck internally complaining


about the pains of age and being sent off to find old ladies. The rain seemed to agree with


him, at least, in his mind, as the familiar feeling of its rhythmic pelting resurfaced on his


shining soaked armor.


"Damn," Joran murmured, eyeing the ground before continuing on his way to find


Mother Alyara.




@ianbabyyy

@Cosmo

@xEmoBunnehx

@Rui​

 

[Rui]

Aster tried sitting up slightly once more, fit to apologize to Asavar for subjecting him to that, only to have the poor shredded gown betray her again.


Oh, forget it.


She sighed, and simply sat up.


Her modesty was compromised any way she went about it, so better to just feign comfort. She couldn't help the blush that colored her, though, nor the fact that her heart rate sped up horribly.


@Cosmo

 

[Soviet Panda]

Gareth grunted in response, spooning the last of his breakfast into his mouth before grabbing the bag and standing up. All he had to do was dump the stuff somewhere, so it shouldn't take to long. However, there were people moving around both in the inn and on the streets. He very much didn't want to splash anyone with some acidic slime and have the guards come after him. As it was Asavar was apparently after his head for some reason or another, he just didn't want to give him a legitimate one to send the entire Guard after him, City Castle and Queen.


"Move." he said in a low, forceful voice to anyone who threatened to get in his way. It was a voice that demanded obedience, and most were to surprised to hear a voice like that in the inn that they did as they were told and moved. This continued down the length of the street where he promptly turned to a side alley and dumped the bag. There would be no way he could get rid of all the slime that was in it, not unless he had a river and steal gloves to scrub it out with. That done, he makes his way back towards the inn. And what does he discover? His former employer, for he completed her job and is no longer in her employment, and the inn keeper playing a little game. Why did he care? They were their own person, they could think like anyone else. But something forced him back to his chair, and to suffer through them playing their childish game.


@SirFlabberghaspy @ianbabyyy

 

[KhalZhavvorsa]

[border]Aurora Norok

Aura nodded at the servant before giving him a small smile. "That' perfectly fine so long as you can do the second part. That's just as important as the first." She explained before patting the bed next to her behind Aster. "Now come on, up here. I'll be needing you soon." She said, the kind and soft smile never leaving her face.


Aura could figure the boy was new, and she could cut him some slack for not knowing where things were in a giant castle; hell she understood where he was coming from. May a time did Aura never know where she was going, and now she'd have to lean the castle herself, which was going to be quite the adventure. Aura also understood what it was like to be in the position, so she could only be nice and kind toward the boy instead of mean like anyone else might of been.


After he had told them he did not know where to go, Asavar sent Joran to get it as well as get some lady Aura did not know, but assumed was a healer of the sorts. At the tone of Asavar's voice, she'd turn her hed back to look at him, her kind and gentle tone replaced with a serious one, the same with her face. "Commander." She started, "I shall need to talk with you alone at some point. The information I have for you is important you know." She explained before turning her head back toward Aster's back.


Aura then let out a small yawn and reached up, rubbing her eyes. She was tired, extremely so, but she would first fix up Aster then go to bed. It had taken her several days of little sleep to get to thing kingdom, and now that she was here and semi-safe..she was ready to sleep for hours. Aura's body ached and her mind was still slight reeling from reading Asavar's past. The headache was gone, but his memories had certainly reacted with her in a way that was in no way pleasing. It was the second time she had ever reacted that way to a vision.

@Cosmo @KillThemAll @ianbabyyy @Rui[/border][border][/border]​

[border][/border]

 

[SirFlabberghaspy]

Yara smirked, leaning forwards as she rested her chin on a bed of her intertwined fingers, supported by her outstretched elbows. Her eyes would shift their gaze upwards, rolling this way and that as she thought expressively. The Northerner then shrugged, looking back down towards Emmony as her smile widened.


"Aye, you're afraid of heights, since you'd be away from the ground. Without that sense of touch between your feet and the floor, you're only left with your hearing, which can only do so much. If you could speak three languages, I think you'd be far more confident. Everyone here knows you well, knows ye will enough to avoid your stumble, you've never left Draede. There's no reason t'. Not without yer brother, I hear. And that's that. You're afraid o' heights, you've never left this pile of rubble, and you only know Common."


With that, Yara would lean back with a confident smirk, eyeing Emmony carefully. For the second she awaited her answer, she'd note that Gareth had returned, wondering just what he did with the slime.


"Where'd ye put it?"


@Beowulf


@ianbabyyy

 

[awriternamedian]

Emmony smiled blandly as the woman spoke, going through the list, deciding which was a lie, explaining her thoughts on each of them. It was a very good guess. Well reasoned. Thought out. A very good guess indeed.


Folding her hands on the table before her, Emmony leaned slightly towards the woman, a sly grin parting her lips. "Wrong."


"You were right about me having lived here all my life. I've little interest in leaving the city, especially with as many foreigners as we get through here. I get to learn all about the world through first hand accounts. It's fascinating." She sat back in her chair, fidgeting with her head scarf. "I am not, however, afraid of heights. I don't have much of a concept of them honestly. No matter how high I am, I'm always touching something, whether with my hands or my feet, even if I'm not directly on the ground, and that is all I need."


She smiled apologetically. "Though, while the third one is technically true, I didn't phrase it right. I'm fluent in three languages. Common, an elvish dialect, and a dwarven dialect. But I have passing conversational skills in a fairly large number more." She frowned suddenly. "And why would you think I'm not confident?"


@SirFlabberghaspy

 

[KillThemAll]

Mother Alyara


The Royal Healer


"The Whisperer"




The old woman smiled brightly as she proceeded away from the


drenched knight, whom she had urged to go rest in his quarters.


The stubborn old man managed to see reason, and with that Alyara


moved towards Asavar's quarters as she was ordered to do so.


She hummed along the way, greeting the one or two absent servants


who passed her by in the thundering darkness. A turn of a corner, and


the Mother was suddenly greeted by a floating black hand, which offered


her a small wooden case. It was designed elegantly, painted of an attractive


teal color, expressing innocence in the craft within. Alyara nodded thankfully


towards the hand with a smile, taking the box carefully. As the container left


the hand's grasp, it would explode into a hissing cloud of smoke, floating upwards


into the cracks of the castle walls. Alyara would press both of her hands against


the case, holding it carefully in the slippery rain as she continued her walk to


Asavar's quarters.


Upon Joran's encounter with her, Alyara had informed the worn hero that


House Sinclair's sons were still alive and well, much to his relief. He hadn't


the clue where the Mother had heard such news, but little to no one believed


her ramblings of the "Whispers".


Humming once more, she recited the Ballad of Blackscale with simple hums.


It was an exciting and old tale, memorized throughout the ages by inspired bards


and worn skalds who had faced similar perils to that of the protagonist, Ewan of Draede.

March, march, through the marsh


With rain and beasts all harsh


March, march, through the marsh


To end the terror of Blackscale...

Alyara smiled warmly as she repeated the song in her head, the image of Asavar's


quarters growing just as real as her imagination's depiction of the legendary Ewan


striking down the terrible dragon, Blackscale.


She'd gently move to knock on the hardset door to the Quarters, interrupted by the offer


of a polite headless man, no doubt a beheaded and tall elven hedge knight, whom knocked for the elder.


Alyara expressed her thankfulness with a loving smile and a tilt of her head, to which


the Hedge Knight saluted and dissipated to. The Mother then turned to eye the entrance,


politely remaining still in a humble posture as she awaited for someone to answer the door.




@ianbabyyy

@Cosmo

@Rui

@xEmoBunnehx

​

 

[Cosmo]

7The Obsidian Executioner

​

She was oddly kind to the boy, Asavar noted, treating him like he was a child.. which perhaps he was. He wasn't sure, but he wasn't one for being so.. soft on people, so perhaps it was a good thing she was here as the boy seemed to freeze up from time to time, and he didn't have the patience to deal with him as she did.


"Is that so?" Asavar said raising a dark brow within his helm, she had been there for a few hours and already had information for him, either she had said that for other people's benefit and she wanted something, or... she really had found out something and he would not turn down any additional help he could get.


He turned his head to the door at the soft knocking, it had to be the hag as Joran would have likely just entered. Asavar moved to it and opened it to the older woman, "Needle," Asavar said holding out his hand and blocking the door with his body, he had never trusted the old woman and letting her into his personal chambers was not on his list to do. The seamstress wasn't in a life or death situation and infection had yet to sink it, so it likely wouldn't. All he needed was the needled.


@KillThemAll


@ianbabyyy


@Rui


@xEmoBunnehx

​

 

[KillThemAll]

Mother Alyara

​

The Royal Healer


"The Whisperer"


The old woman shifted her gaze up at the giant, a warm smile meeting his stony look


before she simply handed the oaken box to the Commander. It was light, especially for


the massive Draxxan, and rang with a metallic hymn with any simple movement. It was filled with


four dozen steel needles, all intricately produced by the string of warehouses just outside of Draede.


House Marmala owned most of the decorative productions in the kingdom, and armed their lands


with mercenaries and brash thugs that often clashed with the city guard patrols just outside of the


capital. It wouldn't surprise Mother Alyara if the thugs took advantage of their powerful


positions in order to get into other profitable business. She had heard of a tussle not too long ago,


involving a giant, and quite a few dead men. If they had any affiliation with House Marmala, she


doubted anyone would be surprised.


However, despite their ruthless creators, the needles were finely crafted and made to be


unbreakable to natural damage. It was a truly desirable and respectable make, something


Mother Alyara found lacking ever since the installment of the newest Majesty.


"The needles, my dear," Mother Alyara murmured softly, inching the box closer to


him as she spoke. She was now looking to the right of the giant, though, as if


observing something on his quarter's door.


"Finely made," she'd ensure, her blind gaze not flinching after they set on the


empty space next to him.

@Cosmo
​

@ianbabyyy

@Rui

@xEmoBunnehx
​

​

​

 

[Cosmo]

The Obsidian Executioner

​

Asavar stared down at the old woman, an oddity, one he never trusted. If there was another person half as knowledgeable in the healing arts, he would have replaced her long ago. Something about her didn't sit right with him, and so she could not be trusted. He took care of his own wounds, when possible, or saw other healers, he would never willingly go to her. He doubted he would come out alive.


He wasn't sure why she talked about the make of the needles, it was merely a needle. thin metal used to stab through the target and pull something behind it, Asavar wasn't sure why she felt the need to inform him of this, but he chalked it up to her age or her... particularities.


Reaching out a large hand, he took the box then inclined his head slightly and chose to ignore the fact she was starring at an empty space next to him... the extremely tiny area of space that was left from his bulk, "Thank you, that will be all," Asavar said before stepping back and closing the door. He paused for a moment before sliding the latch and locking the door. Better safe then sorry, after all.


Crossing the room in two steps, Asavar set the box on the bed tapping the blanket to make enough noise to where he was reasonable sure the seer would hear it, "The needles," he informed her.


@KillThemAll


@ianbabyyy


@xEmoBunnehx


@Rui

 

[KhalZhavvorsa]

[border]Aurora Norok

Aura would nod toward Asavar. She had to tell him, just on the off chance that He would show up. Normally Aura was always gone before he caught up, but the man was crazy and determined to hunt her till the end of Earth..so she had to tell him and let him know that people may be at risk. Asavar likely would not be hapy with this information..but she could not withhold it any longer.


Shortly after he had spoke, there was a knock at the door. A woman spoke and needles before assuming-ly handing them over to Asavar. She heard him close the door and latch it. How odd but yet..understandable. He had enough people in his room and needed no more; or so she assumed that's why he locked his door. Aura heard him cross the room in two steps before placing a box next to her and tapping it, then told her what it was. She gave a short nod, "Thank you." She said then felt around the bed just a little before her hand came to rest on the box. Gently she picked it up and opened it. She very carefully picked up a needle, threaded it properly then set the box down.


With a small inhale Aura reached up with one hand and placed it near the biggest laceration on Aster's back. "I'm going to begin now Lady Aster. Please try not to move." She instructed in a kind but stern manor. Aura then raised the needle to where her other hand was and began to sew, slowly and cautiously. The biggest one needed to be taken care of first, then she would continue on in order of size.


As Aura sew Aster's lash marks up, the cloak that had once hidden her body had began to fall at a rapid pace, as it was no longer held on my her arms. As it fell, more and more of her petite but curvy figure was shown. Aura was far to adsorbed in making sure the stitches were correct to care about what was being revealed right now. Actually she didn't seem to notice as she moved around, sewing and caring to Aster.


Soon enough the poor cloak will have fallen off the pale beauty, and she would be exposed to everyone in the room. Aura's shapely figure was elegant and gorgeous as each and every curve, angle, and shape seemed to complement one another well. However, there was something that marred and obscured her beauty. Much like the visible scar on her face, her back was littered with several markings each one different and yet similar. The very right thing one may notice that stood out on her alabaster skin was a large black inky brand, much like the one on her wrist. This brand stretched over her entire shoulder blade, and by the looks of it..it had barely even weathered over the years she had it.


The brand was a Jackal.


A singular Jackal that did not only seem inky, but was also a burn mark underneath. One could tell much pan would be involved with it. From there, her entire back from the very top of her spine all the way down to her tail bone would be covered in scars. Some looked very old, others looked new. The scars came in various lengths, widths, and torture methods. The most notable of them all would be the long lash mark the went from the middle of her back and looked like it wanted to wrap around her left side rib cage. The mark ended about half way on her ribs. This particular scar very the oldest out of any of them. Many of her scars looked like lash marks from a barbed whip, others looked like burn marks, some looked like they were clean cuts, some were jagged, some stab wounds. All of them were different and each told a different tale.


These scars..they were the reason Aura would not and could not stand someone touching her back and for a girl so small..one would question how she was still alive or perhaps why she had such grotesque things upon her back. Aura would never tell though. Not ever again. It was her dirty little secret till the day she died.

@Cosmo @Rui @ianbabyyy @KillThemAll



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Spoiler

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[Rui]

Aster simply looked ahead, her eyes glassy and lifeless as before. When experiencing pain, she always found it best to force one's self into a state of partial unconsciousness. It was calming, making the pain seem like a distant echo in the back of her mind. She hummed to herself, remembering an old melody her mother used to sing,


Over the hills,


Beyond the keep,


A place is there


For you and me,


There are no gates,


There are no walls,


Just sun and stars,


And light and love.


She always asked her mother if she'd ever take her to that place, and her mother would always reply that she was already there.


Odd.

 

[awriternamedian]

Caelyn clambered up onto the bed beside Lady Aura, ready and waiting to help her with sewing up Aster's back. Shortly after, one of the two warriors left on a mission to find needles. Thank the gods. If only the larger of the two warriors would leave. Then he could focus solely on the task at hand. The larger one scared him. An instinctual reaction to something he knew could kill him with little effort. To something who would kill them if they knew who he was, what he did. Caelyn's hands practically shook. Thankfully, nobody seemed to take it amiss that he didn't know where to find needles. He assumed they assumed he was new. Whatever the reason, he took comfort in it.


For now he did his job. Or what had become his job. For the moment. Either way, he did it, following Lady Aura's directions, keeping the blood cleaned, applying pressure where and when she said. It was almost a little soothing, distracting for his mind. For the time being, he was able to forget the danger he was in. Finally his moment of piece ended as the last of the lashes were sewn up. He continued to clean up the blood, mind racing, nearly hyperventilating. It was done. Aster was sewn up. She was in the gentle hands of Lady Aura. She was safe, as she was certain the seer would protect the girl from harm.


Caelyn stood then, barely noticing there was blood on his clothing. Clinging to the edge of the bed was the little girl, who'd been watching the proceedings with wide, watery eyes. "I-if Lady Aster is well, I-I should take the child back to her bed. She shouldn't be here for this any longer." Without waiting for a response, he snagged his bag and scooped the girl up onto his hip, who didn't protest this time. "Excuse me," he said, ducking his head and making his way quickly out the door. It wasn't until he was a good distance away that he finally took a deep breath.


"Okay, little one, tell me where it is you should be."


@Cosmo @xEmoBunnehx @Rui @KillThemAll