[color=f6cf8a][h1][center]Elithar Revalen[/center][/h1][/color] [h1][/h1] [center] Interactions: Corin [@Lava Alckon] [/center] [hider=Character Art] [img]https://i.imgur.com/2tE0fkP.png[/img] [/hider] [img]https://i.imgur.com/3L33GK5.png[/img] Why was he even aboard this ship? Elithar thought to himself. His hand brushed by the pommel of his twin blades, the small jewel embedded within gave a natural shine against the dim light on the railing of the ship. The air rushing past him felt nice, as the breeze kissed his hair before disappearing behind him. Looking around the upper deck, the patrons of the view lounge shuffling about, doing whatever it is that they did. Having nicked a bottle of unknown liquor from an unsuspecting guest, Elithar stood by himself, taking slow sips and wondering what sorts of blacksmithing material he is going to find, wherever it is the airship was taking him. His mind refocused back on his twin blades, thinking back to the last time he was at a forge... [i] SCHTINK [/i] [i] exhale [/i] [i] inhale [/i] [i] SCHTINK [/i] He picked up the piece of metal that glowed, strangely, a faint blue. He looked around, the shop was quiet and the forgemaster was taking a nap. Perfect time for him to work. He wasn't an employee of the forge, nor was he an apprentice of the forgemaster. He simply talked his way into gaining access to this unique elven forge. The city of Taer Valior had a few blacksmiths, but only one that still uses the blue-spirit fire in their forges. He placed the billet back into the flame, knowing that he has to time this with precision if he wants his blades to work. Taking the precious seconds he has, he wipes the sweat from his brows and double checks that his hair is still secure. One slip up, and not only would his blade fail, he himself would face mortal danger. That's the risk he is willing to take. Staring intently into the forge, the blue flames licked hungrily at the billet of elfish metal. His last ores at that. Drawing the billet from the belly of the forge, he moved carefully but intently. The billet once again glowed a deep nightshade blue. If one was to listen carefully, they would hear the metal giving off a 'sizzing' sound against the anvil. He reached for the hammer, striking the glowing metal with force... He blinked a few times, and he was back on the airship. There was now commotion within the upper viewing lounge. He turned so his back was against the wall and folded his arms in front of him, not looking to put himself in the action. It looked like a drunken squabble anyways. Then came the announcement. The airship was headed for a crash landing. Not ideal. Especially considering where they are going to be landing. Lhazaar Principalities is not somewhere one simply walk, or land in his case, into. He started looking around for anything sturdy, anything bolted down. There was not much to be found where he was, so he moved as quickly as possible against the tilt of the airship and grabbed on to a table to brace himself against the impending impact... The next thing he knows was aches and pains, ringing out from what felt like his entire body. He took several deep breathes, relishing in the cool air and the fact that he was still alive. He was covered in leaves, sticks, and dirt. Nothing one wouldn't expect from surviving a crash landing. Just as he was about to get up and move, he noticed a being approach him. He decided to play dead, to try to find out who or what this being is. The man, similar in size to himself, offered a hand. Elithar grabbed it and brought himself to standing, albeit with a small stumble. [color=f6cf8a] "Yes. Looks like you were too...[/color] As soon as he was standing, he let the man's hand go and started walking towards the port city, rolling his shoulders to work out whatever cramping he was experiencing. He also assumed the man would be following him, so he was plotting on how he would either confront, or escape the mysterious armored man...