Mahz been on vacation for half a year, I wonder if he'll come back from his Mahzquest - youtube.com/watch?v=ygI-2F8… - where could be Mahz be now? Find out next time on Mahzquest.
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5 yrs ago
All I ask is that people communicate these things.
Silence truly was the companion in the forest, normally there would be fluttering of wings or the sounds of bug Digimon crawling across trees. A stream could be heard with running water but it seemed quite a distance away.
The silence would not last long though as a yellow dinosaur with a mark on his left arm and a scar on his mouth was following the group from the treetops, behind him followed a small unit consisted of Gatsumon and a Gizamon who bore the same mark as the Agumon.
The group quickly moved to pass the humans and their partners, before waiting silently before the Agumon drop down. “Pepper breath" He said as he fired a small fireball from his mouth at the group.
How had they already found them? Dorumon responds quickly with, “Dash metal” firing an iron sphere at the pepper breath in hopes to lessen the amount of damage. While he charges towards the Agumon.
Clearly expecting the pepper breath to do more, Agumon was off guard when Dorumon charged at him but not wanting to look weak, Agumon fired off more Pepper breaths at the charging Dorumon. Distracting him while the others would gather round the Digidestined ready to cut them apart from each other.
Dorumon ignored the Pepper breaths, despite them clearly hitting his skin. He winced, but refused to let the Digidestined down. Not after all the trouble he went through to get them here. Dorumon opened his jaws and goes into bite Augomon with a Dino Tooth.
Agumon roared in pain as he felt Dorumon jaws clamp down into his arm causing him a great amount of pain, he would start punching Dorumon to try and get him to let go of his arm but this distraction was what he needed as the rest of his force would drop down right in the middle of the Digidestined and start using very weak version of there attack to get them to panic and run off into the forest scared, splitting them up.
Augomon’s punches, however worked, as he managed to hit one of Dorumon’s burns from the Pepper Breath. Dorumon doubled back, noticing what was happening behind him. Dorumon distracted and obviously not wanting to get the Digidestined hurt called out, “Do not panic. Get to safety!” He didn’t want the kids to panic. Didn’t want them afraid. If they ran off and scattered where he couldn’t find them. He turns around in hopes that Augomon will be distracted by his pain as he stands still, “Metal Cannon”. Dorumon is drawing in power to blast Augomon’s minions away.
Agumon was distracted by his pain, and his next move was going to hurt even more as he grab Dorumon by the tail to stop him from helping though it would leave Agumon open to taking a shot at point blank range since Dorumon could swing his tail round but at the very least it would ensure the children stayed scattered long enough to give Captain Mike and Emperor Ty enough time to gather some more crests. Agumon would have to retreat after the next attack as he could not take another hit.
Dorumon felt someone tug at his tail, he was being dragged back a bit. Dorumon whipped his body into a C and releases his metal cannon at Augomon instead.
Agumon eyes went wide as he took the metal cannon at point blank, the impact sending him crashing through trees and ending with him crashing into the dirt next to a stream, where little did he know one of the kids would end up running to.
Now that the Digidestined had their partners it was time for them to embark on their journey. Dorumon assuredly believes that these people will be the ones who can save this world from the Chaos that Lucemon lead. Dorumon looks at the Digidestined.
“I now am convinced that you can save this world and have faith in all of you,” Dorumon nods, “Now it is time we part our ways to begin your journey. To find the crest. First we need to talk to someone very important. Rosemon in Blossomtown should surely know where to lead us in finding the crest.” Dorumon nods excitedly as he begins to walk past the Digidestined and their Digimon.
“Follow me, I’ll lead you there,” Dorumon says, “Not everything is going to be scary like Lucemon and you’ll also meet a lot of friends here.”
So the Digidestined, with no other choice and no way of getting home decide to follow the lead of Dorumon. They walk past their homes and the holographic interpretation of their families. No way to utter goodbye or say sorry for all those trying times. No way to say I love you one last time because these programmed constructs would not understand the meaning of the phrase.
Lead down a street and into the fog, they were graced by the coolness of the air. Bright greens that illuminated the light from the canopy. As tall trees graced them, creating leafy shadows, natural hands that spread across fresh green grass. It seemed quiet and at peace here. The sky just between the peak of the canopy blue, with soft white clouds.
Whether this was the eye of the storm or not was uncertain. There was an foreboding atmosphere lingering in the distance as if they were to cross the forest and find something horrible. A strange world with a stranger request. It was a heavy pressure hanging over their heads like a great weight on their shoulders.
The driveway littered with police vehicles and news vans all trying to find a way to sneak behind yellow tape.
“Awight, please move back, as we do a proper investigation,” Officer Pike, a slim, Frankenstein tall officer says pushing back a reporter.
“What can you tell us about the case?” the reporter continues to push questions. Officer Pike brushes out a ginger curl touching his eyebrow, most of his top hair is in a jewfro, curly, and falling at different sides like curly noodles.
“We’re currently not talking to the press,” Officer Pike continues trying to keep the ordinance, however, it’s going as well as you’d expect as one of the reporters tries to pull a Mission Impossible move and slide under the yellow tape when the officers were “distracted”.
“Oi!” Officer Handel calls out to the reporter, “You’re not allowed in there. Get behind the tape.” As reporters were becoming antsy and several officers were playing a game with them, a old style black beetle began to crawl its way up a small hill, chugging at a pace that seemed comical to onlookers. Going around and parking at the side, with a small little light, followed by a van that read Medical Examiner. Like a scene out of a movie, two individuals came out the beetle like clowns.
There was a shorter young man, wearing fashionable goggle sunglasses, and a black heavy trench coat that came to his knees. Leather gloves, and stylish hair, with sweeping brunette bangs, didn’t give the impression of an officer. Standing next to him and getting out of the passenger side was a man who wore a tan trench coat, of olden style, he was overweight, and towered over the man by a foot. Standing at 6’4”, they looked comical standing by side.
“Medical Examiner Crawford and Wubbzy,” Officer Pike managed to say the sentence with a straight face while some reporters wondered if that was indeed his last name. Medical Examiner Wubbzy balding on top of his head, though had sandy brown hair like one of those Greek olive branch tiaras.
“Pike,” Wubbzy greets with a firm handshake, “How’s it lookin.”
“In there, a mess, whatever did this,” Pike notices some reporter, “A nightmare. Really.”
“Though you think it’s SYNBAD worthy, else I wouldn’t be here,” Medical Examiner Crawford questions taking off his glasses, to look at Pike.
The three of them look at a nosy reporters inching in. Suddenly there’s the sound of several cups falling onto the ground, as a heavy, squeaky door is opening. A young man, probably younger than Crawford is stumbling out of the Medical Examiner van. He throws the cups back into the van, and quickly slams the door. He runs up to the three discussing.
“Anything I missed?” he ask, an average weight, average faced young man with wispy brown hair, and an excited enthusiastic look.
“Sherman,” Officer Pike greets.
“Pike, shite forgot my camera,” Sherman runs back to the van, making another squeaking noise. Slamming the door shut.
“Shall we?” Wubbzy ask.
“Yes, sirs,” Pike replies.
Passing the yellow tape and heading towards the estate, the smell of blood was rich from the front entrance. Blood spilled on the entrance stairs to two large mahogany doors. A piece of arm, belong to a young man lay limp at the entranceway.
“Couldn’t killers be more cleaner, especially of the supernatural kind,” Oliver remarked as they walked into the decadent estate. What use to be white marble floors, had now been smeared with oxidized blood, turning the floor into a reddish brown. The indigo dyed carpet Prime Minister Lancaster talked about getting from India had turned brownish purple. The suede, tan, leather couch meant to match the white marble tile, now soaked in so much blood it had turned a pungent dark brown.
“Jesus,” Officer Pike gasped as he stared at body parts belonging to various people scattered across the living room.
“That’s a 3 to 4 grand couch, you’re never going to get the blood out of that,” Oliver remarks. Wubbzy gives Oliver a look. Sherman is taking a picture.
“You’re not phased by this?” Officer Pike ask.
“Have you ever seen a cyclops shit out a pile of bones in a massive heap of bloody feces?” Oliver ask Pike.
“No,” Pike replies.
“Then there you have it,” Oliver replies, walking deeper into the room looking around. Trying to figure out where to even start with this. While he wasn’t phased by the scenario, there were a lot of missing parts. Only a few corpses remain intact, skin leathery, eyes hollowed out, like mummies, mouth wide open, gaping in agony or torment. Frozen screams.
“Still, there isn’t much left, we haven’t seen anything,” Pike looks around, eyes wide, “this bad in a long time. What do you think could have done this? This doesn’t concern you at all?”
Oliver looks at Pike and places his pointer finger up, “I left something in the car. My concern. Let me go get that.”
Oliver moves past Pike, Wubbyz is inspecting some blood splatters, and Sherman is taking photos of a hand. He walks out for a brief second and walks back in, he gasp in a dramatic way. “Oh my goodness, this is horrible, I am so concerned,” he says loudly for Pike to hear, “Who could have done something soooo horrible?”
“Quit being ridiculous,” Wubbzy grumbles, “Find us something useful.”
“So demanding, my heart is breaking right now, can’t you tell,” Oliver feigns a beathy, whining voice.
“While Oliver continues to poke at Pike, we do have an issue,” Sherman says snapping a photo, “This is the Prime Minister’s son, is it not?”
Jamie Lancaster head sat in the center of the room, the rest of his body parts still not found. Ghostly, dead, white eyes staring back at them. This was going to be a bit more complicated for SYNBAD, wasn’t it?
The catacombs dripped with water. The musty smell and stench of rotting mummies overwhelmed the senses. As sarcophagus with unusual markings on them had beady, hollowed eyes staring out windows created for mummified men. Two large stone doors opened, illuminating the hall with a faint blue light, that shimmered on the slick, wet, and mossy walls. The stone doors only lead to a chapel, with pews, though instead of some Saintly Christian artifact in the center, there was a statue of black, skeletal looking dragon, with a single emerald eye staring down at what occupants entered this religious hall, with cyclops like vigilance.
“Are you sure it’s dead?” Professor Alexander ask the Priest. A man, perhaps a woman, cloaked in an old robe, it was tattered and torn, even stained with old blood. The lower half of their face covered with a mask and all he could see were porcelain colored skin. Their eyes to shadowed in for him to be able to make any certain he was indeed speaking with a person.
They only bowed keeping their hands in their sleeves without saying a word. He felt a bit of sweat run down his spine when he saw their arm move as they gestured to the center display. Porcelain skin, slender hands, with black, worn down fingerless gloves. It almost looked like the individuals own gloves had been worn for so long it was beginning to get worn into an old cut they had allowed festered.
“And you’ve transferred the money into my account?” Professor Alexander asked.
They nodded again. Was this a vow of silence thing?
“Do not worry, Professor Alexander,” it’s the first words they have spoken this whole entire time, though it is hard to get a lock on their gender, their voice is raspy, quite frankly it sounds like if he were speaking the reaper. Deathly, cold, there’s a whispering that reverbs in the back of his mind, “You do what we ask of you. And we will fulfill our promise to you.”
“I’ve never worked with this Order before, I’ve heard rumors,” Alexander says with a nervous laugh. Alexander goes cold when the individual places their infected hand on his cheek.
“We take care of those who take care of us,” they say, “There’s no need to worry Alexander.” Professor Alexander nods.
“All right, so I’ll have to do is take the key,” Professor Alexander says.
“That’s correct, and when it is complete, we will know,” they say faintly sounding as if they were going to die right then and there standing.
9:15 am As the basement began to fill up and friendly faces chatted with one another morning anew, Roll Call was called and the group was told they’d be leaving in 10. Ten minutes being the moment Angelica got here on the community bus. Suited to fit 11, it only fit half that due to Bridget’s size. A common complaint among the group. Still they just put up with it. As they all had to put up with each other’s quirks.
On the road and close to their destination, Foster cursed the fact that he was driving and hungover. Music is at a low volume. The sun is sharp, teasingly harsh with it’s sunrays. Sunglasses seemed to be doing nothing, but making him feel like they were suppose to work.
“Do sunglasses really help with hangovers?” Foster ask Harper, taking a sharp left turn.
“How you tink they should work?” Harper ask him.
“You’re the one who suggested them,” Foster remarked.
“Well it’s just a formality to make others not know you’re hungover,” Harper replies.
Figures. Still London looked pretty during this time of day. To see buildings of old intermingle with the new. There is a nostalgic comfort that comes from seeing it. As he admired the view, a blue, luxury sports car of some sort, begins to speed up, zooming past them. The sound of their engine like a cup of rice rattling around in a bowl uncooked. Foster had to hit hard on the brakes as they merged in without a blinker and came to a near sudden stop after a display of sheer vehicular power.
“Asshat,” Harper shouts.
“Indeed, they could have dangered many,” Foster replies.
“Honk the horn. Shout that motherfucker down,” Harper says.
“I’m way ahead of you,” Foster says pulling into the right lane, since Harper got this car, might as well put it through its paces. Climbing easily from the forty they were going to sixty, passing the blue sports car and merging back into their lane in front of them.
“So you ain’t always a stick in the mud,” Harper remarks.
“I have my moments,” Foster replies with a smile.
Slowing back to the actual speed limit, Foster feels a bit of anxiety beginning to bubble. They were getting close to the station and he realized what he’s committing today. Today is the actual day he ask Nilin on a kind of sort of date. Honestly, that makes it embarrassing to think of in that matter. It’s no different than hanging out, but it always makes him feel like he has ulterior motives.
Going around to park at the station. He noticed a few things, Myles and Luka heading back into the station. Viorel standing out watching them for a brief second, then turning his attention to Stirling sitting on the edge of the sidewalk waiting for them. Well waiting for Harper, certainly.
“Stirling is out,” Foster remarks.
“Ay, aren’t they goin’ be so disappoint,” Harper replies.
“Honestly, I don’t know why they hate me,” Foster says as he’s pulling into a parking space, aligning himself in an appropriate manner, not trying to take up too much room.
“You don’t?” Harper ask.
“No,” Foster says.
“They hate you because you’re you,” Harper replies.
“Oh, thank you,” Foster rolls his eyes, turning the ignition off. Sighing and grabbing the package Harper had wrapped for Nilin.
Foster waves at Viorel.
“Morning Viorel, you are looking well dressed,” Foster replied.
“Fashion is and will always be used to make a statement, though I don’t know quite what statement I am trying to make,” Viorel “smiles”. Honestly he had gotten use to Viorel enough that he knows when he’s not planning to murder you in your sleep.
“Sad vampire,” Harper pipes up in their head.
Foster nearly chokes.
“Something the matter?” Viorel asked.
“No, Harper just thinks you’re looking smashin’ as well,” Foster replies. Foster looks towards Stirling and smiles.
“Morning to you too Stirling, you are looking quite eclectic,” Foster greets them in a cheery tone.
“Or like he raided a single hippies closet,” Harper retorts.
Again Foster tries to ignore Harper’s comment. Hoping that this time might be an actual conversation between him and Stirling.
Digimon? Digital world? This all sounded like a video game or something like that. In any case Kei wasn’t really allowed to play video games when school is starting soon. His grandparents would get mad. Kei raised his hand.
“Um, I am not allowed to play because I have school,” Kei mumbles.
Dorumon looks at him perplexed.
“It’s okay that won’t matter,” Dorumon tells Kei, “If Lucemon wins he’ll surely take over your world as well.”
Kei now looks at Dorumon with confusion. You mean the bad guy here could enter their world? They were in a different world? That didn’t make sense. That couldn’t be right, could it? Kei hesitantly thinks about it. Everyone else has seemingly grabbed their watches. Would they think less of him because he hadn’t grabbed his watch, yet?
“So, what about our world? Will our grandparents and our families not know we’re gone? We didn’t even get to tell them anything,” Kei plays with his buttons, “What if they think we’re missing? What if they are going to look for us later? Did you think of anything like that before bringing us here?”
Dorumon looks at Kei twitching his tail.
“But, won’t they be happy you saved the world?” Dorumon asked.
Oh yes because he could tell his parents he went to a world with monsters, fought a bad guy they have no concept of and that he saved the world. They wouldn’t believe him. He should hit Dorumon on the head again with an artbook.
“You should have made the email more legible so they knew where we were,” Kei remarks.
Dorumon looks puzzled.
“It was very legible,” Dorumon replies, taking out a copy of the email he sent;
Yggdrasil is dead. Awaken Digidestined. You are needed for an important task. So awaken your hearts and complete your destiny to save the Digital world.
That’s definitely not what anyone saw, if they were as confused as he is in this situation. About these things. Kei hesitantly walks forward, so it seems there is no way back. Kei’s hands shake as he reaches for a blue metallic watch, with gray, and white trim around the screen. Everyone else has seemed to summon monsters from the watches. He puts the wrist watch on his wrist. Trying to fight back crying again. All he’s tried to prove to his parents and grandparents is that he’s not a burden to them. Now that he’s missing, what would they think?
He barely noticed the bright light as blinding as it is, as he tried to fight back tears.
“Please don’t cry,” said a small brown creature, with three horns, “If you cry you’ll make me sad Kei-kun.”
Kei stares at the creature. A tear falling onto its forehead.
“I’m sorry, this is all very overwhelming,” Kei remarks, “Who are you?”
“I’m Kokomon,” it replies softly.
“I don’t want to make you sad Kokomon,” Kei replies.
“I know its a little scary, I am scared too, because I am doing this all by myself, well with you too,” Kokomon says, still in his arms it appears its trying to hug him or this is its concept of a hug, “so we have to stick with each other.”
Wow! So many humans. All eight of them in fact were here in the Digital world, so it meant he at least got the summoning them here part right. His ears twitched though, had they not read the email? They should have known why they were here already. Why did they look so worried and scared? They woke up in their homes. Dorumon contemplate these things before listening to all the kids speak to him. Given him their names. One human Seven overstepped his boundaries though and began to try and lift him up. It sent a shiver down Dorumon’s spine and so when Seven’s gripped loosened, and Dorumon able to slip away, Dorumon slapped Seven lightly with his tail before walking more in the center.
“It’s come to my attention that you’re all scared of this place,” Dorumon says, his tail droops sadly, “I didn’t want to make anyone worried. I sent the email too. I figured you’d be happy in your homes. The Digiworld is a beautiful wonderful place.”
Dorumon looks sadly at the floor, “But right now someone bad is threatening it.”
His ears perk up and he looks back at the group.
“I’m a Digimon, we Digimon live here in the Digital world, it was once ruled by Yggdrasil,” Dorumon raises his hands, “He’s a big big tree. That gave the Digimon and the Digiworld life. Yggdrasil was the King of all Digimon. But now,” Dorumon looked sad, a tear twinkled a little in Dorumon’s eye, “Now the world’s balance is being threatened. Because Chaos wants to take over, turning a world I loved, one with the brightest sky, to black.”
Dorumon went silent for a second. In fact a minute pass before Dorumon looks back at the Digidestin. He perks right back up.
“But but,” Dorumon flaps his arms slightly, “That’s why I brought you here. I said in the email. You are the Digidestin. And the Digidestin are fated to save the Digiworld from this Chaos. You won’t be doing it alone.” Dorumon happily walks over and presents a set of what look like wrist watch in various different colors on a counter space. One Tristan had already picked up, “These are Digivice they stored the data of your Digimon partner. And they are really excited to meet you. These Digivice connect Digimon and their partner through a link I cannot explain all of the mechanics of how that works. But I hear it’s a magical bond.”
Dorumon gestures silently to the Digivices, he’d allow the devices to call to their owner. He begins to walk away from the counter.
“The Digivice allows your partner and you to grow stronger, but to do so you need,” Dorumon looks at them, “Crest. Each one of you has a Crest inside of you. And in this world the Crest inside of you manifest into a physical obtainable card, that makes you and your partner even stronger. When you leave this area, your task is take your partner, find the Crest. Get stronger and defeat the Chaos to revive Yggdrasil.”
Dorumon looks at them with excitement and enthusiasm. His tail twitches side to side.
“You can decline, I know the task ahead is large, and there will be many things needed of you,” Dorumon says, “But the Digiworld needs you. The Digimon are counting on you. I’m counting on you. Because I don’t have the strength or the power to do it alone. I need the Digidestin. I need those that are fated to save the world. I believe in you! You should believe in yourselves too!!”
Species: Half Elf, Idris is the son of Elfreda and Arvid Beorhtric. Elfreda being of the Great Woods of the Aeflstan, belonging a subspecies of Deep Forest Elves. Not be mistaken by the Wood elves who live in the lighter parts of the forest near the meadows and prairies.
Forest Elves were said to be the deepest knowledged of all species, they said they carried and beheld the knowledge of keeping the forest tame that which man could not. Elfreda was widely held by her people with regard for her beauty and her strength and sheer will. But Idris is not a Deep Forest Elf nor is his a Human. He is the byproduct of intermingling of species.
All the knowledge, skill of a Deep Forest Elf, is not blessed upon him. In fact he may not have received much gifts from his Elven ancestry despite being literally half and half of both species. As ordinary as he is Idris still has some gifts from his elven ancestry. That being magic is more quickly bestowed on him, he learns quickly and understands spells because magic does not simple flow from him, but sings to him in a way that it does not to others. He can sense or detect magic with great perception before others, practically tasting the way it hangs in the air. Otherwise, everything else he has obtained is butterfly shaped ears, and bestowed with some of his mothers unearthly beauty.
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A sprightly blonde comes out from hiding in bushes, leaves scattered in his platinum blond strands as he brushes his bangs out of his eyes to share the world blue irises with purplish hue. He smiles and happily dust his clothes off, a pair of riding breeches, with riding boots, a pleated leather shirt dyed purple, paired with a linen multi colored vest with a hood. Shaking out the rest of the leaves of his hair, shows off his butterfly shaped ears hidden by his well maintained,and stylish undercut. A leather belt with a family crest you’ve never seen before as a belt buckle, he waves his hands in front of your eyes to get your attention, him wearing two different gold ring bracelets.
He smiles as you acknowledging him. Upclose he’s not very tall, he stands at 5’5”, 165 cms, yet he already carries a grace and elegance about himself that is very different from that of a human. His long an elegant eyelashes bring him a boyish and youthful charm, He’s prettier than any human boy you would know, but he carries it well with a slender, pensive diamond shaped face he is still firm with his expressions. There is a balance between the beauty and the masculinity of his face that makes him seem like that of noble blood.
Despite his short stature, he is quite thin and wiry. If you had to guess any sense of weight the young man would most likely be on the light side. If you had to take a guess it would be roughly around 115lbs, 52kg. Still the boy gestures at you expressively with his hands.
“I don’t understand, can you talk?” you ask the boy.
The boy huffs expressively, placing his hands on his hips. He blows out a bit of air which makes one of his bangs go up in the air for a second. He points to his ears and slides his finger to his mouth. Nods his head happily, then goes back to smiling, grabbing you by the hand pointing to a store shop. He begins to eagerly guide you, with a slight skip to his step. Airy, but elegant, with light steps. As if walking were more like dancing, fluid, he didn’t like a peasant. But you weren’t so sure about the boy who wouldn’t speak, but simply drag you along to his own beat.
When and if Idris speaks, it’s slow, and sounds like he’s trying to feel out the words on his lips to make sure he’s pronouncing them clearly. It doesn’t sound quite like he knows what or how he sounds, but rather tries to feel how it sounds. He doesn’t talk often and prefers to use gestures, and written messages.
Personality Strength
Anyone who knows Idris knows that he is quite expressive, he often gesticulates excitedly, maybe a little too excitedly at times. Especially when he’s enthusiastic about certain things. Idris has always had a wild spirit, perhaps it is the Elven blood inside of him that makes him seek out things with curiosity and trying to have a sense of understanding things around him. It is why the Deep Forest Elves have had such a grave understanding of the magic around them because it’s their curiosity that drives them as it drives Idris.
Those who know Idris know him as a bold go getter, someone who sees something he wants and takes the actions to go after what he dreams. Idris is not someone who simply says he will do something and sits around never getting to it, never procrastinating and always striding towards his goals. With the understanding that not everything is going to happen instantaneously. Thus he is reasonably understanding of that fact and never getting discouraged simply because things didn’t work out the way they should have.
Idris has a very go with the flow attitude, patiently waiting even when things go awry. It’s something his mother taught him that a true noble is one who is patience, understanding, and doesn’t get lash out negatively towards others. Being a noble to Idris was never about showing off his wealth in some arrogant pompous way or lording over his influence. His father and mother always told him that a true noble is one who is kind, understanding, reasonable, and tries to look at other people’s point of view. Thus Idris tries to live with that in mind.
Of course Idris is also still fifteen and still learning what it means for him to be an adult. He’s brave and will stand up for others whenever they are in a pinch. Those who know Idris know they have a long, trusting, friend. Idris is not the type of person to be cold and off standish, in fact he’s the most accepting and tries to let others in as quickly as he meets them. Inviting them to play, go on small scale adventures with him. He always wants someone to feel accepted, so he tries to be the first to be the role model of accepting those who may be a bit different.
Personality Flaws
Idris has high expectations of himself sometimes, not of others, but himself. He can come off as a perfectionist at times, been known to practice a spell over and over and over again well beyond his own tiredness. Idris is concerned or fixated on redeeming himself, believing himself responsible for feeling some sense of guilt and shame that his city fell because he didn’t defend it. Without the realization that he couldn’t have done anything at the time. Routinely beating himself over the head for not being strong enough to defend the city. Even sometimes believing that he has no reason or sense to reclaim it when those he abandoned will merely only see him as a coward.
He’s ashamed that he fled that night, beating himself over repeatedly about how he shouldn’t have left his parents there. Blaming himself for the fall of the city. These are things that are not often seemed by the other orphans. He demands a lot of himself. To repay for his mistakes. To suffer for his mistakes. Which contradicts the otherwise regal calm he generally has.
While it hard to frustrate Idris there are times when he can be frustrated with others. Often in moments of miscommunication when nothing is going through. Though he usually places the blame on himself. Idris is the type of person who will take responsibility for others actions even when they are the ones who should take responsibility for their own actions.
Neutral
It doesn’t take a lot to make Idris happy, he enjoys adventure, as long as you feed his curious appetite, he usually is settled. Idris is often very content as an individual, he doesn’t necessarily have any standout hobbies that would make him a unique individual to others. Though he appreciates when someone tries to communicate with him and tries to make communication easier. He dislikes those who say something about his race or only point out that he is simply a deaf kid. He’s more than those things and is always determined to show others that he is not simply the mutt deaf.
Skills:
Lip Reading -
While Idris can read other people’s lips, it’s not as accurate as you would think. People mumble, they laugh, they cover their face. And it is difficult to for him to always discern what someone is saying by lip reading. Simply put don’t rely on too much, but he can do so if necessary.
Signing -
Most of Idris communication comes in either gestures he has made up to create his own shorthand of language. It may not make a complete sentence that would make sense to you and I, but the message comes across with his animations and facial expressions. He also knows how to spell the alphabet, if he’s in a more complex conversation with someone he may choose to sign the letters to reply.
Nobility Knowledge -
Unlike someone else, he was taught to remember the names of all the important family houses. Who their leaders were and who their heirs were. He could probably recognize a house emblem and know exactly what house emblem it is from. He can also probably tell you the past history of some houses. Arvid his father always dream of having The Oaken Fort being claimed as one of the great cities, demanded his heirs know this information.
Rune Reading -
Rune magic and rune reading is different, but of the same vein. You need to understand Rune language before you go crafting your own Runic spells. The Deep Forest Elves often used Runic Language as their way of writing spells, or their books. Their language conveyed in universal words that conveyed many things at once the Elvish word Hwesta could mean a breeze or to breathe. This simplistic nature of the Elvish language with their simple Runic transcribing helped Idris learn this language and to read it better without having to learn another complicated language.
Calligraphy -
To cast Runes you have to understand how to write Runes, through the practice of calligraphy. Writing a Rune is not writing a word the way a man may write a letter. It is understand the symbol, each rune that crafts an idea, it is more like a true linguistic art than it is simply writing a sentence.
Focal Crystal: The Eleven Storm, Alagelda, a purple stone sits in a birch staff, shifting in hues of purple, from light to dark, flashes of amethyst like lighting appear and then fade. *See appearance for crystal
The Elven Eye is a unique staff that was gifted to him by his Elven family. They handed him an empty silver birch staff carved for him by his grandmother and told him to place his magic inside of it and that his magic would guide the function of the staffs duties. The chariote like stone in his staff is one of perception, thus the name of the staff was dawned the Elven Eye. His staff ability is one that perceives many things dependent on the weather as forest Elves are dependent on the seasons.
Ability: The Elven Eye perceives many thing, but what it perceives is determined by the weather.
Sunny - on bright sunny days the Elven Eye can illuminate items that the user wishes or desires for. The item often glints like seeing a piece of metal at a distance, or the eye leads a line towards whatever it is the user desire before fading into nothingness. *Clear Evening - on clear evenings the staff faintly glows a soft light. This soft light illuminates things in the light. You hear a snapping twig the staff illuminates a bunny that is faintly glowing on the other side of the brush.
Overcast - when the sun is hidden behind the clouds, the Elven Eye turns a subtle dark purple. When in this state it can illuminate and even cut through some illusions.
Rain/Fog - the Elven eye faintly glows. It continual blinks at different intervolves, illuminating the right path to take when visibly is unclear. The faster the speed of light the more you have strayed from your path than the constant gentle slow chime of light.
Snow/Hail - When the world is blanketed in white or when ice hails from the sky, and visible is too low to even guide on one a straight path or is too dangerous too. The staff begins to ring, and echo locates the nearest shelter that becomes visible at regular intervals as to not lose your way.
“While the way your world works may be different, allow me to illuminate what you may not be able to perceive on your own. Let thy staff I have crafted for you become the staff that guides you, not changes you, but gives you what you adequately lack”
Love Truly - Gwawr
Aelfgifu “Elf gift” - one of the many reasons it is hard to find the Elven secrets, especially of the Old and Deep Forest is because their magic is one about secrets. Elves do not hide their knowledge, wisdom, advice, and magic out in the open in safe storages. Instead they have another plane, or really an item has another purpose. For example a single key decorated in purple and violet butterflies and vines, is not merely just a key you see. Elves, especially the Deep Forest Elves, hide their items within items. An singular orb, could hide a mountain of knowledge and wisdom that no one would find.
Ability: Idris’ key is not merely a key instead hidden within the key is his spellbook. All he needs to do is unlock his spellbook and his key and his book switch places. The key residing in the keyhole and the book free to be openly used, until the time comes again for them to switch places once again.
Equipment: Idris bag has a piece of string that he uses to attach on the front his key, so it’s in a place that is accessible and reachable. His leather satchel might be slim, but he equips with the necessities
World map, because it seemed Idris was the only person would thought about that before setting off. Inkwell, quill, and parchment. As well as a manuscript to translate ruins for the others. Trail mix, some nuts mixed with dried fruits. And some granola treats.
Magic: Lv 5
Spellbook:
“I have a surprise for you,” Arvid’s deep, ringing voice echoes through the library. Edmond the Mentor scowls at Arvid.
“This is a library Arvid, it is not the outside,” Edmond scoffs.
Arvid just laughs deeply, and walks up to Idris and taps the boy on the shoulder. Idris looks up and Arvid smiles. He hands the boy a leatherbound book, with metal clasp. Arvid’s point to the flowers, they are the House flowers. Idris smiles at Arvid getting up to hug the burly man. A keyhole in the center of the book, Idris stroked it to feel the etchings, Edmond fixes his glasses and looks annoyed that the studies have been interrupted for this.
School of Focus: Runic - a unique form of magic that uses the form of written words as traps, imbued with an effect that goes off when triggered. Generally someone steps on it or is within the 5ft circumference of the rune.
Précis Scrawled on the floor or wall is a glittering Rune. Not all Runes are ones to worry about, some of them can be quite helpful. In this case, Idris can mark walls, doors, floors, with a rune that gives quick summarized information. I.e. “Trap Door Ahead”, “Center Dead End”, “Big Threat Ahead”. To name a few ideas of what he may tell his team, if they are ever separated from one another.
Slick Runes are often simple, they have a singular word that conveys the full effects of a more complex spell. Though often they are triggered by movement, someone stepping on them or passing them, is often the trigger. Slick is no different. When a creature passes the word or command Slick, the rune ruptures and breaks the seal covering the ground in a slick oily slimy substance that covers a 15ft range. This substance is slippery, those who run into the mess leftover find themselves slipping and also struggling to keep their footing.
*Bonus Affect - This is not a feature of the spell, but the way the substance interacts with other substances. When touched by flames, the substances begins to harden and anyone stuck in the slime is stuck in place till they break free from it. When touched by water the substance becomes even slicker, tackier, like walking or wading through glue.
Thorns This affect when either attached to the wall or the floors, when the seal breaks, explodes into plant life. As whipping vines burst from the rune itself. These whipping vines sting with jabbing thorns on their thick branches. They spread about 10ft from the actual rune, and anyone who dares pass them be prepared to get whipped by lashing vines.
Whirlwind This rune sits glittering on the floor. Have you ever wondered what it’s like to fly? Well than take a chance and step on this rune. While most ruins are AoE in someway, this spell tends to directly affect those that are directly on the rune itself. The individual who stands on this spell, has a mini tornado wrap around both their ankles and shoots them across the room, well at least 5ft before they land with a hard thud. Anyone else within the range of this spell is merely knocked onto their feet briefly.
Bend Those who step on this Rune at first won’t notice the effect of this spell. It’s not displayed lavishly like vines, or mini ankle tornado rockets. Instead whenever anyone is in a 3ft range of this spell, or has directly stepped or passed the rune on a wall, they’ll notice any non magical items they are carrying, be it weapons or, be it their armor has warped or bend in some way. Try fighting someone with a wobbly sword, you’ll just end up being a laughing stock.
Misc Battle Info: The way Idris is aware of magic, is due to his heightened ability to feel magic as a Half Elf. Idris is aware in battle because he can feel magic on his skin and he is able to taste magic that lingers in the air. Magic is the gathering of energy and thus just like you can feel the electricity in the air concerning lighting storms, he can feel the hair on his skin stand up when someone is preparing to cast a spell. He can discern the type of magic in the air that lingers through its scent and taste. It’s not like a specific taste he won’t say it tasty fruity, but it has different ways it makes his senses tingle or spark.
Born to a silent world, one without the sounds that the world takes for granted. Arvid and Elfreda did not curse their child for his inability to hear, instead they took the news with stride and did their best to educate and get him prepared for nobility despite his limitations. Elfreda and Arvid never considered to punish their child or treat him poorly merely because he cannot hear. He definitely can and will become a Lord, hearing or not. They always encouraged him and made sure that he would be as noble as his brothers and sister.
A celebration could be heard echoing through the mist of the Oaken Fort. A city surrounded by trees as a bailey and wooden buildings in architecture unheard of in most of the Great Cities. This celebration of course was the celebration of Elfreda and Arvid’s fourth child, Idris. This was a long time coming, a plan created by two families a generation ago. By Tlaloc’s Elfreda’s father, and Grand Elder of the Deep Forest elves and Arnulf father to his heir Arvid. Arvid and Elfreda married in her late adolescents and his early adulthood and many awaited how they would receive each other. Over time it was clear to the elves and the humans that Arvid and Elfreda may have actually fallen in love. The unification of two families had been considered a success when Elfreda birthed their first child Hákon. Soon after a year later, they found themselves with child once again their daughter Blodeuwedd, named by their grandmother Gwawr. Two years after Gruffud was born. And now a year after Idris has come to bless the family further.
Arvid paced in the grand halls of the Grand Oak Keep. The midwife came out and smiled at him.
“It’s a boy,” she tells him softly.
Arvid smiles, “And Elfreda?”
“Healthy,” the woman smiles at him.
Blodeuwedd is coming down the hallway, she walks like she is gliding, elegant, graceful, cat like steps, with a bouquet of white flowers at hand.
“Well,” Blodeuwedd ask with curiosity.
“You have a new brother,” Arvid tells her.
Blodeuwedd sighs, “Could have been at least another girl.”
Arvid laughs and places a hand on his daughter's cheek, her skin supple and soft, “Your mother loves those flowers.”
“Yeah, well I feel it’s a waste now because Grandma was so assured we were going to have another girls, boys don’t like flowers,” Blodeuwedd frowns and looks disappointed.
“We don’t like flowers?” Hákon coming from the north end of the wing, with a smile on his face, he looks the most like their father, except the butterfly shaped ears gives him away, “Well I like flowers, so I can use them to flirt with beautiful girls.”
“That’s not the same thing as liking flowers,” Blodeuwedd replies.
“Theoretically, it is the same thing, girls like flowers because they are pretty, he likes flowers because knowing they are pretty he admires them to admire girls,” Gruffud replies, or really Hákon is carrying him in his arms and maneuvering his mouth. Gruffud displeased with this action tries to bite Hákon finger, but Hákon moves it out of the way quickly.
“Thank you Gryf,” Hákon replies.
Blodeuwedd scoffs.
“You see what I have to put up with,” Blodeuwedd complains to their father.
Arvid gives out a hearty laugh, “I think everything will be okay Bloddy.” Arvid ruffles her a bit, she fixes her hair back into the position she had laid it.
Elfreda held Idris in her arms, though he always seemed like a distracted child, ever since he was born. His eyes would wander and he wouldn’t look at her when she spoke to him. She wondered if he regretted being born to her. She’d never let anyone know that she worried about the future of her children being the way they are. Half elves mingling with humans, the thought irritated some elven purest. Holding the twelve month in her hands she tried to call out again to him.
“Idris,” she said softly, “Please my child.”
He finally looks at her, all though it was a few seconds later, only to look at her with a babies expression of confusion.Elfreda huffed in frustration.
“Why, what have I done?” Elfreda asked Idris, “Why do you hate me?”
Snap!
Elfreda jumped as one of her elven maids Mindra clapped her hands as she entered the room. Elfreda looked at her frustratedly.
“You startled me,” Elfreda told Mindra.
“I’m sorry milady, still no luck with Idris,” Mindra replied.
“He won’t respond to songs, he won’t respond to his name, he won’t respond to me, and Gruffud already talking,” Elfreda sounds tired and exasperated.
“Have you considered he cannot hear, milady?” Mindra asked.
Elfreda took a second. It’s like someone had shown her the way with fairy light. Suddenly things began to click into her head. Why hadn’t she noticed it till now? She got up quickly and Mindra looked at her, Elfreda looks back.
“He didn’t jump when you clapped,” Elfreda responds.
Mindra simply nods her head.
“I must speak with Arvid,” Elfreda says as hurriedly.
“He’s in a meeting milady,” Mindra said.
She didn’t care, handing Idris over to Mindra, who smiled at the child and made silly faces. Idris begins to laugh the more expressive Mindra’s faces were. She should have seen it, how had she not. Quickly rushing out of the room, she soared down the hallway, her green dress following her, until she pushed back the wood doors of the keep, into the counsel room. Where Arvid stood talking to a few lords, ladies,of the lands.
“Lady Elfreda,” they greeted her, though they looked as surprised as Arvid did. Elfreda moved past them all.
“Elfreda, my white blossom, what is it that you need?” Arvid asked greeting her by kissing her hand.
She wasn’t necessarily thinking in this moment, as she blurted out, “He can’t hear.” Noticing watchful eyes she covered her mouth and grabbed Arvid’s hands, “Forgive me Lords and Ladies, I’m stealing him away as we have a touch of a family emergency.”
She drags Arvid off, well leads him out into the hall. Arvid looks at her, his concern for his children great, but his dedication to tending to the matters of the land also great. Arvid looks at her with a soft, but stern expression.
Arvid takes a second. There’s a bit of silence. He looks shocked and then the realization in his face begins to turn. Arvid takes a second.
“It makes sense,” Arvid began to sputter, “I...I hadn’t thought of….I hadn’t considered it. Are we poor parents for not figuring it out? How do we confirm this? Any elven doctors we can speak to?”
“I can get the Shaman Elder to confirm for us,” Elfreda told him, she places a hand on his cheek, “But this does not make you a terrible father. You realize and you’re seeking to assist as quickly as you can. That’s a sign of a good father. Now go back in there to assure our children’s land claims.”
Elfreda smiles and kisses his fingers slightly. Arvid nods kissing her forehead.
“We’ll have a meeting family afterwards,” Arvid tells her before walking back into the counsel room. Now all that was left to do is contact the Shaman Elder.
**
“If Idris can’t hear, can we explain why Gruffud has terrible manners?” Blodeuwedd ask at the dinner table, watching Gruffud decide his fork was too difficult of a task and began to use his hands to eat tonights roast stew.
“Fork,” Elfreda barked at Gruffud, one of the maids placed his fork back in his hand.
“Bloody,” Gruffud hands her the fork.
“I don’t want it, and it’s Blodeuwedd, if you’re going to give me a nickname, it should be one more suitable,” Blodeuwedd scoffs.
“So, if Idris can’t hear, are we not going to get in trouble if we call him a bad name?” Hákon ask curiously.
Arvid gives Hákon a look, “Even if he can’t hear it's still rude and we don’t call our siblings bad names. Instead you’ll get ten times a harsher punishment.”
“Bummer,” Hákon responds.
A hand is placed on the book he’s reading, the glittering runes are slightly etched onto the book, which are nice to the touch. He looks up to Blodeuwedd. She’s talking, he’s watching her lips move faster than a horse drawn carriage. She huffs and he only catches a, -that’s right from her lips-. She points to herself -me-, and then points to him -you-, she points outside to the window -want to go to town?-. Idris stares at the stuffy book he’s been made to read by his Grandmother Gwawr. She’s says things like he has a very special kind of magic she can feel, except that his sister likes to point out she also thought he was a girl. Which Grandmother pointed out he has a distinct feminine energy. He’s not even sure what any of that means.
He also points to the window -To town- drawing a question mark in the air.
Blodeuwedd nods.
He places his hands on the book and huffs, he looks at her. A mild look of an annoyance, a bit of expressive hesitate, looking at her. He looks back to the window, he wants to go, and then he stares at the book he’ll get in trouble.
Blodeuwedd raises her hand in the air and looks like she’s screaming from frustration. Before grabbing his arms and dragging him lightly out of the chair. She points to him sternly -You!- she begins to cradle her arms like a baby -baby-. She points to herself -me- and then looks at the headboard of rules set for them during their instructions. -You’re my baby brother, you listen to my rules-
Idris shakes his head, blonde hair getting into his eyes and he has to brush his bangs back. He couldn’t go. He had to read this chapter. He puts his hands together in praying form -please- and he shakes his head.
Blodeuwedd huffs. Throwing her hands up in the air, she gives up. Storming off. Shaking the bookshelves as she did so. Why wasn’t she studying? Was she shirking her studies, again? She always thinks because she gets it faster that she doesn’t need to study these things. Sitting back down he stares towards the window. Be nice, to figure out where she planned to take him. She seemed really upset with him not going, she also may be trying to get him in trouble though,
Edmond the teacher, he’s the one who gives him lessons. He’s some really funny looking older elf, with white wispy hair, and glasses he wears on the bridge of his crooked nose. If he had disappeared Edmond might have reported back to his grandmother and grandfather. His education wasn’t just handled by his parents, but through them as well. And grandma is scary.
Edmond looks at him. Idris sinks into his chair a bit. Did he notice he moved only a slight inch? Best not give it away that Blodeuwedd tried to take him to town.
Edmond taps to the book, he runs his finger along the chapter he’s reading. Oh he hasn’t changed a page since Edmond left.
Idris looks at Edmond and shakes his head. He places his finger on the paragraph he’s at. Edmond raises a wispy brow. He dismisses him with a hand gesture, sits down and watches. He makes reading very nervous.
Running his fingers along the embossing of the runes, it isn’t necessarily like reading, it isn’t necessarily not like reading either. It conveys a thought rather than it conveys words. To adjust the practice of a rune, one must understand that a singular word conveys the secrets of language. Edmond’s still watching. Maybe he could convince his mother to go to town.
The lights are flickering there are people dancing, though he can’t hear the music, he can feel perhaps the mood. It isn’t just his family around the table, they are outside, and when you look up the tree canopy you can see the faint glittering of stars. Grandpa Tlaloc and Grandma Gwawr is here, though only the nobility seems to be deliberating giving them all dark glares. Idris tries to ignore it, as his father prepared the celebration of his birth with the people of The Oaken Fort. A big community where all caste have come together, though the Family Houses seem to be staring at the elves and peasantry like nobodies or if they are mud on their clothes.
One of the nobles grabs his father’s arm. Arvid smiles. They begin to talk, Idris tries to figure out what they are talking about, though he can’t quite figure it out as the Lord of House Briar is purposely speaking in a whisper so others cannot hear.
Idris moves along, Hákon dancing with a fair girl in town. She seems smitten with him, as do all the other girls. As Hákon moves around the dance floor, he catches Idris eye and puts up a finger for the girl to give him a second. Hákon laughs as he jogs up to Idris with a smile and still slightly dancing, grabbing him, dragging him towards the dance floor. From there Hákon explains to several girls, that he’s his baby brother. He does a cradle motion than points between the both of them as if to make the comparison. He points to his ears, telling them he can’t hear. Hákon smiles at Idris. Though all the girls look up at him with vague intrigue. They seem curious, they have questions. Idris smiles at them and waves.
They look delighted as they run over to him. They are smiling. Some hug him. They look to Hákon, how do they speak to him?
He again waves. Lifting his hand up, H-I. He points to his eye -I am-. I-D-R-I-S. He points to the girl closest to him. -You?- he draws a question mark in the air.
The girls cheers and looks delighted. Idris huffs and looks at Hákon, placing a hand on his hip and scowling. She looks at Hakon, he has to focus to read “Is something wrong?” Hákon waves his hand dismissively -it’s nothing-. He then takes her by the hand again to dance.
Idris allows them to bounce around and do loopy loops together, while he continues to walk around. Gruffud seems to be avoiding the festivities. Idris walks up to him and waves with a big smile. Pointing to the festival and pointing to himself, he then hugs himself tightly. -This big celebration for me, I feel loved-
Gruffud smiles. He moves from brooding by himself to hugging Idris tightly and ruffling his hair the way their father does. Gruffud let’s go and places a hand on his chest and then places the same hand that touched his chest to Idris. -And I love you deeply-
Idris jumps up excitedly and smiles, he tries to drag Gruffud to celebrate. Gruffud shakes his head no. I-T he points to the celebration and expands his hands out. He does an explosion expression around his head and then looks exhausted. -The celebration is too much and makes me exhausted-
Idris nods. He smiles. He points to the sky -Tonight- and points to the celebration. He points between the two of them. -Tonight me and you will celebrate together- he loops his fingers together with a smile. Gruffud smiles excitedly and nods. Gruffud points to his eye. He forms his hands in a box. -I have a gift for you-
Idris looks very excited and grabs Gruffud hands, he smiles happily. Gruffud shakes his head and then gestures for him to have fun. Idris nods and runs off excitedly. His grandmother and grandfather had gifts for him as well. He wondered where Blodeuwedd could be. He should see what she’s up to. Skipping down the wooden architecture of his town, it inspired journeys and the forest called him. There was always a tingling sensation from the trees. Grandmother Gwawr said the forest is alive and that’s how the Elves survive it. Not paying attention where he was going he bumps into someone. It’s Cedric Briar, son of Lord Hendell Briar.
He’s shouting at him. Idris frowns. He points to his ear and slides it to his mouth. He cannot make out anything he’s shouting at. He points to a spot of dirt on his rather nice coat, it must have come from one of the Great Cities. Idris looks shocked. He bows as an apology as he takes out a handkerchief. He uses a gesture to tell Cedric its to wipe his coat. He hands him the handkerchief.
Cedric knocks the handkerchief out of his hand. He looks mad. Idris takes a step back. He points to eye. S-O-R Cedric grabs his hands. He’s saying something to him. Idris watches his lips, T-A-L….”Talk.” He tries to take his hands out of Cedrics. He talks with his hands. Cedric looks upset at him. “I- can’t,” Idris manages to sound the words on his lips, is that right?
Idris tries to pull himself away, now he’s just scared and doesn’t like this person. His eyes are watering. He doesn’t want to cry in front of Cedric, but the situation is starting to sour quickly. Just as he’s about to cry out for help Cedric is distracted by something behind him. Cedric turns around and a fist is shot at his face. Cedric doubles back letting go of his hands. They are grabbed once again and he’s being dragged off down the street into an alleyway. A kid with dark, black, scraggly hair looks over the alleyway and smiles. He looks at his knuckles.
He’s begins talking. When Idris doesn’t respond, he looks perplexed. Idris points to his ear and drags it down to his mouth. He shrugs, takes out a piece of crumpled paper from his pocket and grabs a stick. He lies it on the side of the wall and writes. Handing him a note: Valentino. And I think I am going to get banished or exiled. How cool would that be?
Idris shakes his head. He points to his eye. P-R-O-T-E-C-T and points to Valentino. -I will protect you-
Valentino gives a thumb up.
The two twelve year old boys sat at the bridge’s edge looking at water winding through the city. Legs dangling through the cutouts. Valentino’s hair had gotten longer and it currently was matted in sweat. He smelled of manure from working the stables at the Briar’s, dirt crusted his face, yet he swung his legs happily. Staring at a purple, smooth stone, that glimmered. He takes a second to scribble something down and passes the paper along to Idris.
Idris smiles. Handing it back after he’s finished with his response.
Valentino takes the note. He laughs, his face crinkles when he does so, showing off his dimples. Nods his head.
Idris takes the message and laughs. He covers his mouth real quick. He makes a galloping gesture with his hands and nods. -I can see it-
Valentino takes the reply, though he seems upset by something or sad. He puts the quill to his chin in thinking position and begins to scribble something down with deep concentration. Idris wonders what that could be.
Idris takes the message and looks surprised. He blinks. Me? I did that? He begins to reply quickly.
Valentino nods and Idris leans in to hug Valentino. Valentino squeezes tightly.
A note is passed along as he’s studying one of his magic books. For his thirteenth birthday he received a staff from his grandmother that is meant to be imbued by a Gem Crafter. He wonders if that is what Valentino is talking about. Idris scrunches up his face and shakes his head.
Scribbling down a response he harshly slides it past to Valentino.
He does not like Valentino implying that he simply gets these things for free. Valentino reads it and sighs, he shakes his head as well and begins to write.
This is distracting him from his studies. His next test decides whether or not he actually has earned his staff and if he can get on with more advance lessons of magic with his sister Blodeuwedd. He makes sure Edmond isn’t around before replying.
Valentino snatches the response up and stares at the message. He gives off a smirk, and licks his lips. He’s wearing an impish smirk as he begins to write. Valentino slaps the response onto the table, which makes the table vibrate, with a huge grin on his face.
Idris is quick to reply.
Valentino reads the reply and stands up from his chair. He begins to flap his arms around like a chicken, even bobbing his head side to side like a chicken. He isn’t a chicken.
Idris stands up and waves his hands in Valentino’s face. Gesturing for him to stop. Valentino looks at Idris with a big grin. Waiting for a reply.
Idris huffs and sighs. He shrugs his shoulders. -Fine, okay, you win- Valentino raises his hands up in the air and begins to cheer. Idris is watching him punch the air excitedly.
Valentino points me and you. He does writing. -We need a plan-
**
Late that evening his mother enters his room. She has her hands behind her back and she’s wearing a disappointed look on her face. Had he not done his homework right? She throws a piece of paper on his bed and gestures towards it. She wants him to explain. He quickly snatches it up;
-Meetup at Town Square tomorrow afternoon, late you are a coward -Swap clothes
The list carries on.
His mother W-H-A-T, she points to her head and points to him very sternly. -What were you thinking- He looks at her and he tries to start to explain. He doesn’t know how to explain. He just doesn’t want Valentino to say he is a coward or that he is lucky. He grabs a piece of paper to quickly write down, Hands it to her and looks at her with an exaggerated frustrated look.
She carefully reads it. She puts down the note and looks at him with consideration. She points harshly at him -You- A-R-E V-E-R-Y- she makes a motion with her hands that looks like she is doing an action. -You are very hard working- Idris huffs and scowls. She’s just saying that, isn’t she? Because she’s his mother.
She shakes her head. She points to the both of them at the same time -We-. H-A-V-E V-E-R-Y she takes a second and words “Jobs” slowly to him. She grabs his note and points to Valentino. -We have a very different job than Valentino-
Still he frowns and looks down to the ground. Valentino doesn’t see it that way. He’ll still think he’s a coward. A coward who backs out on his word. Idris places his fist on his chest, forgive him. His mother looks at him sadly and picks his head up.
She points to him and her. -We- W-I-L-L she gestures with her hands from her mouth and drops it low -Speak- T-O she points to Valentino’s name again and puts her fingers together. -We will speak to Valentino together-
He picks his head up. Really? He points to his eye. W-O-R-K he makes a shoveling gesture. -I can work the stables-
She frowns for a second. She points to him and her She makes a gesture, hands over her brow like she’s looking around. -We will see-
He nods excitedly. If his mother comes along than Valentino cannot call him a coward and he has to do what his mother says.
At first the job was hard, mom and dad had always made sure him and his siblings found at least one chore in the Grand Oak Keep to do with the help. What made the job hard was not understanding Lady and Lord Briar despite them being talked to prior. His mother worded it as advance learning. Except Lord Cypris Briar insisted he speak, that was the hard part. Not being able to use his hands. It was frustrating if he was allowed to speak the way he was use to he could be a lot more useful. It got easier over the course of a few weeks, but he was glad Valentino and his days were going to go back to normal. He missed his siblings and his mother. Polishing silverware in the living room for the final celebration between his family and Briars as peace offering between the houses after he stayed in their service for a month.
Cedric walks in, though Idris has learned since living here Cedric is not the apple of Cyrpus’ eye much either. He prefers his daughters Silva and Dahlia. He has seen the arguments, though not heard them. Cedric is already yelling something at him. Then knocks on his head like his head is a door. This part he would not miss being treated like he lacks intelligence. Idris scowls.
“Helllllloooooo” Cedric’s lips sound out. How Idris wanted to hit him right now. While he might be Cyrpus’ favorite, he probably wouldn’t take kind to Idris hitting his son.
“Ca-nn I h-h-elp you?” Idris feels the syllables on his lips, they feel funny even still. He doesn’t know if he’s making the right words, but Cedric laughs. He doesn’t know if he makes him talk on purpose. He’s making fun of him. Idris sinks his head low a little. He promised he wouldn’t cry in front of Cedric, yet it hurts his feelings.
He pushes Cedric back only to run away. It’s the one thing he hates about this job. He never looks forward to dealing with Cedric. He doesn’t know how to do so. Fighting back tears he runs into the only room he has found solace in this house, and it is a damned library. He hesitates as he sees Lord Briar reading a book. Cedric and Lord Cyprus don’t actually look very alike. Cedric got an ugly, bumpy nose, and his features are more rounded and he’s slightly average. Lord Cyprus looks elven, though he doesn’t have the ears like him or his siblings, they look like humans, yet his facial features are pensive and slim. Cyrpus looks him.
“Sss-orry,” his lips try hard to make the S sound he has been so told of.
Cyprus continues to stare at him with sharp violet colored irises. Idris is about to turn and leave when he sees Lord Briar pat a seat next to him. He wants him to sit? Idris hesitates and sits on the cushion next to Lord Briar who is slimmed figured, very slimmed figured.
“I,” Idris begins, but Lord Briar puts up his hand for his silence. Cyprus stands up and rummages in an old desk that doesn’t befit their status. It’s old, beaten up, it’s not polished. Cyprus takes out a piece of paper and walks over with a quill.
He hands him a letter Idris reads it.
At first he doesn’t understand what these words mean. It isn’t that he doesn’t know what they mean, it’s more who they are coming from. He looks at Cyprus with wide eyes, a bit of a shock and tears stain his gaze. Cyprus doesn’t emote anything just hands him his quill and holds the inkwell.
Handing the letter back with shaking hands to Lord Briar, the man nods and carefully reads. He reads a lot longer than it should take, before replying back. Also taking his time. He hadn’t been more impatient in his life to see what Lord Briar meant. Lord Briar doesn’t look at him when he passes along his response.
Idris reads it. Of course he’d forgive him. He said sorry, he seemed genuine despite trying to cover it with a veil of aloofness. Instead of writing a message Idris tried to show him he forgave him in his way by hugging Lord Briar, who instantly tensed up when he did so his whole body went completely rigid. Their family never hugged each other likes this. Lord Briar doesn’t ease up simply pats his head before pushing him off as if even thirty seconds is too much contact.
Itzal the Shadow Hunt’s Messenger, paces across the tree line. Though not in a way that would worry any of his mean. In horned helmets, distinctly elven designs that were shadow, warped, and distorted like horns. Itzal stared upon the Oaken Fort with disgust. He raised a slender ashen hand, with long manicured nails and pretended to grasp it, only to crush it. He turns to the army that lie await in the mist of the forest fog.
“Dad ennas na- mín coth. Hain remmen a gwaur mín agar. Gwaur ha with firen a gwerio i iar gondobar. Sír mín iôl othrondwen in diiâr,” he tells his men, who raise their jagged shaped, curved, elegant, and blacken blades in the air. Silently cheering for the death of the impure blooded. Itzal turns his attention to the town and raises his own blade.
“Ai Eldanor!” he says as trebuchets are released, sailing forward round balls of what look like a mixture of twisted roots, branches, stone, moss, and vines that banned them together. They crashed into the Oaken Fort with a loud explosion sound, the aftershock sent some commoners back into the wall. The ball of wood, branches, and stone began to unfold itself to show arms and legs. They stood as tall as the smallest buildings around 6ft to 7ft tall, with glowing eyes, a magic core inside of them syphoned life through them.
Their feet sent vibrations through the earth as they walked. One of the guards immediately begun to run to the nearest towers, in a hollowed out tree with wooden stairs, he began to grab onto the rope and began to ring the alarm. Ding. Ding. Ding.
**
The family’s sat together eating dinner. It wasn’t quiet, Idris watched as the families exchanged words. He caught words from Cyprus to his father as “enlightening”. His wife, Lady Primrose reminded Idris of a walking pig, she had a button in nose, her hair was always up in a tightly curled bun. She was on the rather bigger side, The only few that exchange words with him were his brothers and siblings, but looks from Primrose and Cyprus meant they didn’t necessarily care for goofing off at the table. Something his parents allowed them. Still things weren’t exactly what he called ideal, yet peaceful. Though that changed as his father and Cyprus both stood up at the same time. They seemed on alert. Idris felt his heart racing, his father seemed worried.
Arvid ran towards the window without a word. What’s going on? Arvid quickly turns and points to his mother, he catches his father’s lips, “take the children.” Their mother gets up quickly and stares at him, and curls her fingers for him to follow. Putting her hands on her lips, she looks to Cyprus. “Escape passage” he says as he walks over to the fireplace. He knew it had a weird energy to it! Cyprus places his hand on the fireplace. It glows blue, the fire inside of it goes out, as the wall splits in half to show a passage. His mother bows.
She grabs his hand especially. His brothers and sister are behind, Cedric, Silva, and Dahlia are also following. Neither of the girls are very pretty. None of them inherited Cyprus looks though Silva is prettier than Dahlia. The passage is closed behind them. What’s going on? He doesn’t have time to ask as his mother is fully sprinting down a passage of stone, will o wisp lights glowing at every step they take. Even if anyone was talking he couldn’t hear them. The stone was blocking it, but he could feel a weird energy. It was palpable. Powerful. Twisted even through the storm. They continued to run. His lungs were going to give and without an explanation.
His mother seemed proper afraid. As they came out from an iron gate, there was the small of firewood burning. The oak in the air. He could taste blood mixed with the smoke of fire. The Oaken Fort is burning. As they ducked out of an alleyway. Bodies lay scattered across the earth. Walls splattered in blood. Idris could feel his heart racing. He felt his body shaking. His mother won’t engage, she won’t tell him anything. She expects them to run. Hákon picks up a sword from one of the guards, who has been ripped into parts. An arm scattered, entrails strewn out. He’s going to vomit.
His hand slips from his mother’s grasp. She looks frightened as they separate. She tries to grab for his hand as he trips on uneven ground. His hands get scuffed up, dirty, he nearly touches the guards dead corpse. The thought alone makes him wretch. Blodeuwedd bends down to grab him. She looks at him, he tries to save face looking away losing dinner. Blodeuwedd I-T W-I-L-L she gives an okay gesture and takes his pink with hers. -It will be okay I pinky promise-
She helps him up.
He holds onto her hand. His mother hand is extended out waiting for him to reach her. When he stops, she turns around quickly. Blonde hair whipping in the air like the flames flickering. A large wolf, with sharp canines comes running at full speed, at such a speed on all fours it loses its grip taking the sharp corner it does. As it leaps from its back legs, his mother raises her hand, a shield forms and pushes the wolf into the wall in front of her. It merely shakes the damage off as it recovers, wobbling. She points to Blodeuwedd. Blodeuwedd nods and grabs his hand, taking him to the other side into another alleyway. More bodies. More blood. The magic in the air is a nightmare. It keeps filling his head with the images of ancient cities. Stone that glittered in magical light. And blood. Hatred. He could feel clinging onto his skin the way sweat might.
Where is Hákon? Idris turns his attention to him engaged in an individual with blacken armor. That’s it, that’s the source of magic. It’s made of a metal no one has seen before. Not steel, not iron, it’s magical, black sleek, shiny. His helmet is elvish, but it looks funny, it looks twisted, warped. Elvish Deamons. Swords clashing. Sparks flying. The black metal vibrating every time it’s struck. Idris calls out to Hákon as someone in black leather, and two daggers jumps from a burning roof to engage with Hákon, “L-O-O-K!” as he does another man in blacken armor engaged with one of their soldiers, turns his attention to them. The soldier sees an advantage, striking the blacken Elven knights in between the plates of his armor. The Elven Dark Knight grumbles and turns his attention to the soldier, taking his blacken, twisted mace into the soldiers neck. The man’s neck gives way.
The knight is coming this way. Gruffud stands in front of Blodeuwedd to block her. He words “Go.” Blodeuwedd nods, holding onto his hand. Her hands are actually shaking. He tries to keep up with her pace. She’s scared. They are trying to get to the Grand Oak Keep, he can see it sitting on a hill overlooking the town. It too is on fire. There are more men in black armor on the drawbridge, riding those wolves. There’s a blast of magic on the drawbridge as Edmond, and some Elven soldiers tried to defend the Keep. They are intermingling with the human soldiers. Swords clashing. Idris is dragged down into rocks, that squeeze between a sewer system and the town mill. Blodeuwedd opens the grate and has him enter the tunnel.
It’s not what he expects actually. Instead of a dingy sewer, which it is, there’s stone steps leading upwards. Blodeuwedd guides him to those steps. The stone here feels different. It’s cool in here and the chaos of the battle seems way up there. The ancient passage his family talked about, though he had never been in here. Only seen the manuscripts. There’s no one here. It’s like the battle is far away down here. They continue to walk through smooth stone tunnels. Till he sees light. He squeezes Blodeuwedd’s hands, he doesn’t want to see her go either. She squeezes his hand tightly too as reassurance.
A soldier in armor stares at the both of them. He’s talking to Blodeuwedd. He’s talking fast. They have laid defenses down here. Their last defense. The soldier has them follow him, there are some soldiers down here. Do they think they will reach down here as well? Blodeuwedd nods and guides him to a wooden door. The Service corridors must connect to the passage as the manuscripts had laid out. She opens the door, to see the maids packing their things in small bags. They say somethings to Blodeuwedd. They smile at him. Nodding. The soldiers are escorting the maids and service out from behind here, that’s what the defenses are for.
Blodeuwedd continues guiding him. He wants to fight too. He tugs at Blodeuwedd hand. She looks at him for the first time in this whole scenario. The smell of smoke is filling the hallways. It’s created a thick fog. He points down the hall. He knows that’s where the armory is. Blodeuwedd nods. They have to be quick, they are already coughing and all that running has made it difficult for his lungs to give much more. They hand down to the armory. She opens the door. She smiles as she grabs her staff, she stops shaking the moment she touches her staff. He looks at his white birch staff, that has been finished more recently, grabbing it, it felt right. Like home. He saw the memories of the Deep Forest Elf from this staff.
She still holds onto his arm though. He tries to pull her back towards the entrance. She turns to face him. She shakes her head no. She continues to force him down the hallway, away from the passage they came from. The smoke is thick and hard to see through. He can feel himself hacking a lung, but his staff is illuminating a faint light. As they get into the grandhall. The steps in front of them, they can hear the keep’s larges doors being slammed against. Soldiers are trying to keep the doors from giving way. Fire is spreading through the throne room. Blodeuwedd creates a little bit of water to break through the path of fire.
His Father’s advisor, Andah is holding the door with his magic. He seems tired. He’s been holding the door for a long time he figures. His sister has him lead up the stairs. Why? What aren’t they telling him? They could be helping them keep the door. The smoke is worse up here, actually most of the top floor is illuminated in orange flames. It’s hot up here. He sees some soldiers bodies, burnt to a cinder, the smell of burnt flesh, and ashen hair threatens to make him throw up again. Expel what he doesn’t have. Blodeuwedd takes him towards his room, she ices the door down with some of her ice magic to repel the flames before shattering the door open. He’s never seen his room like this. Orange. Like the Abyss. Smoldering and burning. Blodeuwedd looks shocked, but grabs a bag that hasn’t been smoldered. She hands it to him. She begins looking through his dresser, that the flames are threatening to.
Now he understood. No. He shook his head at Blodeuwedd who has stopped the flames for now with her water. He hands her the pack. Shaking his head No again. Trying to get her attention, as she’s just shoving whatever clothes aren’t burned into his pack. He waves his hands in her face, and tries to stop her. She pulls her hands away from him. Handing him a full pack.
She puts her two fingers to her eyes and points to him sternly -You see-, and points to the window, then does a gesture with her pointer finger and middle finger. -You see out there, you have to run- No he didn’t want to run. He lifts his staff up and gives her a stern face. I am fighting. He shows her his staff. She shakes her head and points again to the window very forcefully. -Run-
She stops, she looks afraid. She hears something he can’t. She grabs him, hold her breath entering the smoked filled hallway again. She’s walking slower now, having him go down with a simple gesture. They are crawling on all floors on a runner rug that use to be purple, now it’s blacken and turning sooty. She peaks over the edge of the stair railing. They have busted through the door. The soldiers are fighting the Black Knight.
Andah is dead, crushed underneath the weight of the door, alongside some other soldiers. Those wolves are sniffing the air. She grabs his hands and looks at him. She knows he’s scared, she seems scared too, despite hiding it. She looks at him. Her brows furrow, and she seems to question him with a look. Do you see why you have to run? He doesn’t want to run. Doesn’t she understand that? He can help. Tears are coming from his eyes. What if he never sees them again? She looks at him also about to cry. She words very slowly for him to read her lips “Then - I - love - you” she said and drags him into a hug very quickly.
He finds himself breaking out into tears. Trying to be silent. Blodeuwedd looks at him. She points to herself and the stairs. {Heading downstairs} She points to him and points down to the hall. {You run to the passage}
He watches as she heads down the stairs. She begins tapping her staff on the stonewall. The wolves look toward the sound. She gives him one final look. Now. He has to run now. He runs down the stairs. One of the wolves tries to run after him, a bit of his sister ice spikes the wolf. The wolf changes its mind and he sees that two of them are beginning to approach her on the stairs. There’s fire behind her. He’s about to step in. But he sees her look. Go. He feels his heart racing. His body shaking. He begins to bolt down the passage. Turning to see on warg spiked by ice through the belly. Blood begins to run down the ice pillar, before freezing into dollops of ice red. As she’s casting the other warg grabs her leg. Dragging her down to the ground, another wolf noticing the commotion goes to investigate. He can’t look anymore. He’s sorry sister. Goodbye sister.
He continues running down the passage. Fast as he can. He looks behind him to make sure nobody's following. He already sees a Black Knight coming down the hall. He must have noticed him. Idris places down a rune on a ground in front of him throwing out Slick onto the ground. He turns his back and runs faster, even though everything hurts to do so. He runs through the kitchen. He runs through the maid service corridors. Everything is empty now, the door is about to close a soldier is quickly ushering him to come quickly. He runs faster. The soldier taps him on the back and slams the door shut. He can see the way the door jiggles on its frame.
Idris puts a pointer finger up for a second. Placing thorns to a wall next to the door. He follows the soldier down the tunnel.
He almost expected to see his father standing at the grate. Instead a soldier stood, waiting. He hands him a paper. Idris nods his head. Perhaps, his mother and father would make it and meet them at the woods. His brothers too.
Midnight
They hadn’t shown. The forest felt different no longer in the city. A wagon of horses lay beside tree and mostly children and woman, the elderly had been left behind. None of them could sleep he was sure, even if they had all gone into their tents for the night. Ever time he closed his eyes he was brought back to the burning village and Blodeuwedd. Tears streamed down his face. Why hadn’t mother and father shown yet? Then as if this whole entire time they had been in the eye of the storm, Idris felt the magic of the black metal clinging to his skin. The pouring hatred, the burning sense of betrayal. The smell of burning tents. As Idris quickly got out of his camp, tiny tents dotted through the forest were slowly lighting one by one on fire. He saw the Black Knights mounted on the wolves. Saw isn’t the word though he had an image of them in his head by the way their magic felt. Idris looked away as a woman fled out of her tent, a running human silhouette on flames.
He couldn’t look at anymore death. The forest beginning to light quickly to orange. Turning the even dusk into orangish midnight. He grabbed his bag and his staff. He needed to find his grandfather. He wanted to fight, though he knew from these images in his head. That he would not be able to defeat an army. Remembering the look in Blodeuwedd’s face. Run. Go. He saw it in his head. Idris trying to keep his breathing calm as he began to flee. This time not turning to look at the burning tents. He couldn’t continue to watch slaughter and not have the strength to help.
Idris began to wander through the brush. He had only visited his Grandfather’s home once, he was very small and didn’t quite remember the path. His Grandfather said that because of his blood, that he would know the path when he felt it. Idris wasn’t so sure he was in the mood to feel anything else. Something is muddled it clings to his skin, like kindred spirit, yet is warped and corrupted. He looks around someone is here. Someone has found him. He wants to know who. As if understood his command the staff illuminates a figure in the brush. The figure seems to notice they have been found out so they walk out in an iron twisted helm like the black knights. He doesn’t like the way their magic feels. It’s both of the Deep Forest, but it feels more dark than that, cloaked in shadows is the image he gets.
He thinks the individual is talking. They seem confused to why he hasn’t responded. Idris won’t say. Not to this person. They take their runic, dark, corrupted steel sword and raise it up high. He raises his staff to block it and closes his eyes. When he opens it again, a soldier of his fathers’ is holding the individual back with their blade. He uses a moment to gesture for Idris to go.
Idris starts to run again. Why are they after him? Why do they want to kill him? All these messages are fragmented in his head. Their magic is twisted. He just keeps going.
Early Morning
Sun kisses his skin. He opens his eyes. There is blood on his forehead. His ankle is twisted in a root of a tree. Where is he? He’s in the forest. His head hurts. He has to get out of here. Doesn’t matter where. He just has to go somewhere not of the forest. That’s what his instincts tell him. He doesn’t want to. He wants the comfort of family. He has to leave the forest. Idris weeps a little. Why did all of this happen?
He manages to take his leg out of the roots of the tree. Nothing seems broken. He just sits on the root of the tree and cries. He wants all of this to be a bad dream. He doesn’t want to see these images. Blodeuwedd. Gruffud, he didn’t get to tell them goodbye. I love you is stuck in his head. He just wants to go home. He just wants all of this to have not happened. A horrible nightmare, but he isn’t waking up. He isn’t waking up. Mother and father, they never showed up.
He holds onto his knees and sobs into them soaking his breeches with tears.
He lost his bag somewhere along the way. He doesn’t know what day it is. How long had he been wandering the forest? His hair has grown long, dirt sticks to his skin, his hair matted in mud. He limped across the forest, his legs are sore, his head hurts. He’s not hungry. Or he doesn’t feel hunger any more. Using his staff to help lean on. Idris eyes are blurry. Trees are beginning to go double. He just continues on. Not knowing where his destination is. He just knows he can’t go to the Deep Kingdom. He feels he’s suppose to go somewhere. Being drawn to somewhere. He feels sick. He just continues walking. There was an urge to throw up. Idris sees something in the distance glittering. Is it a hallucination? A mirage. He heads into that distraction. It couldn’t be? One of the Great Cities? He had heard stories. It was his father’s dream to turn the Oaken Fort into one of the great cities. He’d have called it the fourth great city. Idris wanted to keep that dream alive. Trying not to remember that night.
He pushed the thought back. He stands in front of a glittering shining barrier. Looking into the blurred visions of bright pastel buildings. They look nothing like the wooden buildings he was use to. A man in a funny looking cloth cloak that didn’t look like it protect him from much of anything carrying a spear stares at him. He’s talking. Idris doesn’t have the strength to tell him he can’t hear. The world is turning into a swirl of pastel colors.
**
When he came around it was in someone’s house. It smelled nice, flowers wafted in through the window and the sheets felt soft. For a second he was lulled into the sense he was back home. He knew he wasn’t, he saw the glittering barrier. The house wasn’t even made of wood.
An woman walks in, she has graying hair, and she is carrying some water in a pot. She says something and he looks at her. He points his ear and slides it to his mouth. She looks a bit perplexed. Idris huffs in frustration. He looks around, and makes a gesture for paper. She grabs some from a dresser that she bumps slightly, hands him a quill. He begins to write. It hurts to do so. His head is sluggish, yet he manages, handing it to her.
She reads a few times. Then nods her head.
She writes down her reply, hand it back.
He carefully reads it. It dawns on him, she’s offering him a place to stay. He recalls bits of that night making that realization. He looks at her sadly, and nods his head.
She smiles at him and places a hand on his shoulder. It reminds him of his mother’s touch. He doesn’t want to cry in front of this woman. He had already done so much crying. He had already done so much walking. He had already seen so much the horror the forest wrought. Idris just nodded and swallowed the sadness down like bitter medicine.
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