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.
I was told to do a review and honestly I was kind of avoiding doing so. So I remember the conversation we had about getting straight to point versus my long sheets. And while yes, my sheets were long, my descriptions are minimal a paragraph, and max two paragraphs. It is detailed, but it is simply detailed to get the picture. I am not trying to compare myself to you, what I am trying to point out is your simple philosophy bit you in the ass.
All your character right now is Magic and Battle Profile, without a name. Who is Simon? Because I do not know who he is. Your description is great, but flat. You forgot all the emotions and hand gestures and body language people use. You forgot to make your character alive because we present our appearances physically. His personality is painfully plain.
Generic flaws and generic strengths. And the tale. Makes me feel nothing. You just sum up stuff in the dryest exposition history that makes me shrugs. Who cares? Because I do not care. If you read the actual explanation of Arrival, it ask for their trials and tribulations. I got none of that from this sheet.
Simon does not make me excited. And it is probably, and I mean no offense, why he hasn't been included in much of other's CS. Because no one knows who Simon is and to be honest, I really do not care at the state he is. Cool an engineer. But he has no personality.
For the most part I love Astraea I got a sense of her soul when we were writing our collab. The history was well thought of and well detailed and I love the lore you have setup. Your skills and spells are well thought out and I really don't have very many criticisms so I won't force critique that isn't needed. However, I do have 1 minor nitpick and it's two of neutral personalities feel like they belong in her strengths;
She doesn’t like bullies and she definitely does not appreciate unnecessary cruelty. You do not have to be hateful. There are better ways of doing things. Astraea cannot stand when other people only think of themselves. It makes her feel frustrated that the one person's selfish actions affect everyone but they don’t care. It is all about them and she just can’t see why anyone would do this.
And they both seem kind of redundant. Find a way to condense these two sentences together into one thought and move them off to the strength or split them to flaws.
Otherwise, I loved the sheet. Can't wait to see more of the character in the RP.
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.
Written by Myself and Akaya
Things were slowly getting easier. There were other kids here and he was trying to assimilate with each one of them. Today, Astraea was his target. Target made it seem like he was going to be doing something bad or horrible to her. He only wanted to get fresh bread for breakfast from the bakery. He liked it piping hot, it brought back memories of doing so back at home. Idris stared at the carpet for a second before approaching the blonde female. She had wings, then again so did another orphan here. Orphan, felt like a funny word to him still. He had a home. He had a mother and father, a sister, and brothers. Now he didn’t, orphan. He tapped her on the shoulders to get her attention first.
Astraea’s head turn, slightly startled that anyone else what up just yet but it was a welcome surprise. She smiled gently, giving a small wave of her hand to let him know she was greeting him. She wanted to see what it is he had to say, wanting to be of help if possible. “Morning, how are you?” she asked, hoping he would be able to read her lips. It would not be the easiest task if the roles were switched but she knew he could read a bit as long as the speech was clear and not quick in pace.
While it did take Idris a second to read her lips, when he did get it he looked a bit like he made a realization. Smiling at her. He stretched out his arms above his head and made a yawning motion. He wiped his eyes as you would when trying to wake up. He then gives her another big grin and gives her a thumbs up. -Good, but waking up-
She nodded in understand before lifting to a simple teapot and point to it before doing the same with the kettle, in her own way trying to ask ‘would you like tea or coffee?’. It was what usually helped her wake up in the morning when the land of dreams was tempting her to go back to bed.
Idris nods his head yes excitedly.Time to see if he can ask this proposal right. He grabs the bread basket that sits a centerpiece and shows it to her. Dancing around the table he’s looking for something to write with. Meanwhile he’s spelling with his hand B-R-E-A-D. He finds a napkin lying around. Uh, he makes the motion to write on the napkin. He needs something to write with.
He looked excited, the bread basket that was the normal centerpiece for the table being the first object to show her. She was a little confused, trying to see where this was going as he spelled out the word ‘bread’ with his hands while his eyes seemed to be scanning for something else. It took a moment for a napkin to be found when he made the motion to write. Astraea quickly moved to one of the kitchen drawers, opening it up to pull out a quill and grabbing the inkwell from the counter before placing it front of Idris. She laid her hand flat, doing a sweeping like motion before looking like she was writing, trying to let him know to please go ahead and use these to write. She wanted to know what it was he was trying to convey and writing was a good way for clearer communication even thought she didn’t mind the hand motions.
Idris nodded and took the inkwell with a smile. He began to write on the napkin, through it probably wasn’t the best because the ink would bleed through a little. Still he managed with excitement and handed it over to Astraea, he thinks that’s her name. He looked at her like an excitable puppy, his whole body is practically trying not to move around too much and his face is jovial, light.
Astraea took the note within her hands, taking a moment to read what it said as it had bled a little bit here and there but nothing too illegible. She smiled brightly, happy that it was her that he wished to go with into town. She gave a nod, motioning to come with her as she headed for the front door with a skip in her step. A heavy cloak on the coat rack by the front door was taken down and quickly wrapped around her shoulders before being tied into place. She gave him a thumbs up before pointing to the door, seeing if he was good to go.
Idris nods excitedly and runs from the table towards Astraea, nearly tripping off the leg doing so and smiling extremely bright. He wanted to show her that he is very happy that she has accepted him, in some fashion of the way acceptance. He grabs her by the hand a little dangling it side to side before trying to eagerly take her out of the door. He always enjoyed company going out to town. His sister or his brother would have went to town with him. Often racing each other to their next destination. He missed them, though he’s trying now to let this new one in. It hurt sometimes they felt like replacements and not individuals of their own degree. Still he points his finger ahead down a path towards town. It is afterall an adventure.
“A-hoy,” Idris spells out with his lips, he tries talking a bit too. Especially for the youngest, he doesn’t seem to understand sign. Idris has no concept of the word, he just assumes it is something adventurers would say. He just wish he knew what it sounded like. Or if she just thought he sounded funny. That be embarrassing.
She almost asked if he was alright when he nearly tripped on the table’s leg but he looked happy that she decided that it was fine leaving that question aside for now and just smiled with him. Astraea hadn’t expected him to take a hold of her hand but it made her feel glad that he was coming around. Idris was always friendly but there seemed to be a kind of distant feeling that reminded her of her own guardedness. He pointed to the distance, drawing her eye to the path ahead and the town now in sight.
“Oh!” Astraea yelled, punching her free hand in the air. She felt a little silly but that was part of the fun. She started to move to lead Idris down the hill and onto the path. She was excited to get to the to town and watch it come to life while they set up or started the day.
She seemed to be having fun already, punching the air, her lips making an O. Wasn’t sure what that was about, but he let go of her hands only to start going down the hill. He finds himself hoping that she understands that he wants to race down the hill. Even taking the position of running, and pointing all the way down.
Her grin grew and her eyes sparkled with delight as she gracefully moved into a racing position. She couldn’t remember a time where she had gotten to do this. The kids in her village had never wanted to be near her or made fun of her for being different and the others at home had never offered. It looked to be fun and she felt childlike wonder and a rush at the thought of racing someone.
The feelings were all the same, as wind rushed through his hair. Legs going, but only really his control taken from him by gravity as the hill pushed him down by itself. He was worried he was going to trip considering the steepness of this hill. He manages to stumble a little to the end, but he made it. Looking around, he searches for Astraea, she’s only a few seconds behind. Idris waits for her and when she’s finally down, looking windstruck, Idris gives her a thumbs up. T-H-A-T W-A-S F-U-N he tells her.
Astraea smiled, trying to push her hair back into place with not much luck and wasn’t to disappointed by it. That had been so much fun and she gave Idris a thumbs up before replying back, probably not as smoothly, with a I-T W-A-S. She looked towards the town, waving her hand for him to follow and pointed towards the path. She was really looking forward to getting some fresh bread with Idris and checking out the town.
Idris followed with a nod of his head. This place still felt odd at times. The colorful homes of pastels, the stone streets. It felt like he were in an entirely different world. The barrier glittered and made the blue sky look like stars at times when the sun hit in just the right spot. Tapping her to get her attention.
He points to a building, than to himself. H-O-M-E he spells with his hands and points to a tree. W-O-O-D and he makes a hammering motion with his hand. -My home was made of wood-
Astraea was always dazzled by the pastel colors of the homes, making the town cheery. It was nothing like she knew when she was younger and it was always nice to appreciate them and the feeling of the stone under her feet. She would usually sit outside at Gertie’s place, watching the sky as the barrier shimmered and at times the sun even made it look like glittering stars. It made her wish that her mother could have seen it. A tap drew her out of her thoughts, her blue eyes focusing back on Idris as he pointed to a building and then back to himself, the look of confusion on her face probably being clear as day since he continued by spelling out the word ‘home’. She nodded, understanding what he meant about his home and watching as he continued to explain the rest to her. She smiled and pointed to herself and then to the stone path before pointing at the tree. She was trying to let him know that she lived in a home that was both stone and wood. The roof had been made of simple thatch and straw but the structure was wood and everything else was filled with stone. She wondered what kind of wooden home that Idris had grown up in. She didn’t know much about elves and thus probably would imagine something not even close to reality.
Idris took a second looking between the stone and the tree. What did they have in common? Idris drew a question mark in the air and cocked his head to the side lookings confused as day. He spells T-R-E-E, S-T-O-N-E.
Astraea bit her lip lightly, trying to think of a way to explain without spelling it out but it seemed like that might be the only solution since she hadn’t thought to bring anything to write. She tried one more time by pointing to herself, then the buildings as he had done before making the same hammering motion before pointing at the stone path and then the tree. She spelled out the word W-O-O-D so he wouldn’t get stuck on the fact that she pointed to a tree.
Idris raises his eyes and nods, Ah. He points to the buildings, S-T-O-N-E and points to the tree W-O-O-D. He puts up his thumb. -The buildings were made of stone and wood, got it-. Idris laughed and he looked at Astrea. He points between the both of them and makes a writing gesture. He scratches the back of his head as well, making sure to emphasize the nervousness. -We should have brought paper, haha, oops-
Valentino and him use to exchange letters as they walked. Valentino never bothered to learn proper ways of signing to him. He didn’t mind it. How long had he been reminded of that? Only a year ago. He never had seen the fate of Valentino, though if his family were any amount of evidence it meant nothing too good for him either.
It was painful and exciting at the same time trying to recover. Trying to heal wounds that were still fresh. The woods were so close still. Though the trees told him not yet, not yet. When then? When could he go back? They were so far away. Yet, there was a part him that somehow knew his grandfather was looking for him. He had family. He didn’t like the word orphan. And yet here he was with orphans as an orphan.
He taps her again to gain her attention, before pointing to her. L-I-K-E and he circles around. -Do you like it here-
She returned the thumbs up as it would have been hard to spell a whole sentence out. She noticed that he had the same thought about the paper and quill which made her nod, feeling a little silly that they had even forgotten it. It had been exciting, the thought of going to town. Astraea looked to Idris, about to point at something when she notice the pain and confusion there. She had no idea what he was thinking about but his eyes told a story and it made her look away. She drew her attention to the shops, looking at the merchandise that was for sale. She still got nervous in market places after her childhood even if this place was nothing like Fort Halloway.
Astraea felt a tap and turned her gaze back to Idris before looking around them. Did she like it here? She looked back to him again and nodded softly. The town she had lived in hated her and had killed her mother. This town didn’t make her out to be horrible. They didn’t attack Gertie’s because she didn’t do exactly what they wanted. She then spelled out, Y-O-U, before adding a question mark after since she was curious. Did he miss his home?
Did he like it here? He wasn’t sure. The forest feels distant, despite being a step out of the main gate away. It probably had to do with the barrier. His home was of the woods and the homes were made of trees. The defenses were the trees. The forest gave them everything. He wondered how many people survived that attack. Had he left them behind? Some Prince he was. He left his home burning and the people too. An image he can’t get out of his head. It was the one that repeated in the forest when he walked, walked for so long.
Idris didn’t know how to convey this pain that grasp at his heart. He didn’t know how to convey this sense of lost. This not knowing in his heart. He points to himself, and holds his chest. He makes a gesture like shattering. -My heart is shattered- He looks around at all the buildings. He does a circular motion to convey around here. Pointed to himself again. B-U-R-N. -My home burned- Idris looks away. He abandoned them. It’s all he could feel.
Astraea could have froze at that statement, she felt like she was back on the hill with her bare feet in the grass and taking that last second to look down at her burning home while the town cheered with joy. She didn’t think and just reacted as she gave Idris a gentle hug. She knew it would not take away the pain and it would not fix anything but it was the one thing she had wanted while the world was crashing down around her years ago. She pulled back, waiting for him to look at her before signing, M-I-N-E, T-O-O. He was not alone in his pain of losing others to a fiery death. Yes, he lost more than she had but she understood what it was like to have your heart shatter while everything around you burned.
Idris was startled by the hug at first, though he accepted. It seemed they had something in common after all. Perhaps why he was drawn to her spirit. Was this okay? Was it okay to accept others in? Was he betraying them? He wondered these things a lot. He tried not to look sad when their embrace left. He just smiles a wordless thank you. As if to deter himself from this moment, he taps her shoulder. He puts on a smile. He’s fine. T-A-G he spells with his hand. He points to her -you’re it-
Astraea laughed, before signing a quick N-O-T, F-A-I-R and went to tag him back. She could have thanked him for the distraction in her thoughts. They both had something in common and if they felt the same then she knew the burden of guilt. It now made sense on why he was distant for them a bit. She was still guarded herself whether she wanted to admit it or not. He ran away from her and stuck out his tongue. Have to be quicker than that. He just like the sense of rushing. Rushing wind. Rushing breeze through his hair. It kept him from overthinking. It kept him from the feeling as if he were running away from it, not really Astraea. He didn’t even really consider to play the game he preferred to just keep running from whatever he was running from. Till he stopped at the bakery. He tried to catch his breath. Hoping Astraea was quick enough to catch up.
She quickly rushed after him, making sure to tuck her wings close to her body since there was still a little bit of a crowd and she didn’t want them hurt. This meant that she would be a little slower as she was use to gliding or use them for a little bit of levitation. He kept just out of her reach, every time she went to tag him would just end in her stumbling a bit from missing him by just a hair. When he finally stopped, Idris had arrived at the destination they had planned all along, the bakery. Astraea tapped him, tilting her head towards the bakery door, asking him in a way if he was ready to go in.
He nods enthusiastically dragging her along. After all she is the one who can talk to the baker.
The bell over the door chimed as it signaled the two’s arrival in the shop. The air was filled with so many wonder smells of different styles of bread and it was so comforting. She could have found herself in here for the whole day if it wasn’t weird or didn’t put her in the way. It reminded her of her mother and watching her bake and cook. It is where her own skills came from but she was not good enough to think she could do any of the fancy things that this shop held. The baker’s wife smiled at the counter, greeting them with a friendly welcome and asking the two what they would like. She wasn’t even sure herself. It would depend on how much she actually had in her coin pouch. Astraea looked to Idris, curious on what he wanted to get.
Walking into the bakery shop, the scent of fresh bread instantly hit his nose. It was a smell that took him back honestly. Look at the hearth, burning with coals, and the fresh loafs being taken out on shelves. The building may be made of stone with a pastel coloring, but it reminded him of a time back at home. He use to do this with Blodeuwedd a lot. Even Valentino. Though more Blodeuwedd. They’d go down with the Maid Doddy to the bakery. His parents would never allow them to get away from not helping with the service. You had to understand. You had to have care and compassion. They’d always get the long bread, where Idris’ hand was hovering.
Mom complain. There are other types of bread Blodeuwedd. Doddy would laugh because she’d never give them instructions in picking out bread just overseer them. Back then it seemed happy. Like nothing could happen and their family blessed. Then the unthinkable could happen. What if they were alive? He had only seen Blodeuwedd die. What if? Hakon, Gruffud maybe. His father? Why was he still denying it when they never came back?
All because of the smell of bread. Idris felt tears streaming down his face. Would they forgive him? Could they forgive him?
He turns around and charges out of the bakery store. He doesn’t know where he’s going really. He just hates to cry and he hates this feeling. He hates this feeling of guilt. This feeling of regret. This feeling. This tightening in his chest. He finds himself near a fountain, collapsing on his knees to a crying fit. He didn’t care if strangers were watching him. He just wanted this nightmare to be over. To have vanished. To stop aching.
Astraea watched as he jetted out, excusing them and apologizing to the woman as she exited the building and chased after him. She remembered the feeling, fear and guilt as she ran through that dark forest. She wouldn’t let him be alone while his world started to crumble. He finally stopped near a fountain, knees collapsing and tears spilling down his cheeks. She sat on the edge of the fountain next to him, rubbing his back gently and just letting him cry. She would be there for him if he needed it and at least he could let it out and know that someone was on his side, looking at the crowd to make sure they kept walking. Idris didn’t need on lookers and people judging him while he let go of some of his pain. She wished she knew some elvish songs but sadly she did not so she just started to hum a soft calm tune.
And so the journey begins. To look for the Golden Set, with the other orphans. What things will he find? What adventures will he get into? What dangers will come? We'll find out certainly won't when the told is woven.
Theme Song:
Misc Info:
When it comes to the way Idris communicates. He will have four main forms of communication;
Hyphens will be used to break up sentence structure to communicate or translate his responses and gestures in everyday conversation
In everyday conversation he will fingerspell what he cannot gesture out symbolized by spelling out the letter R-a-b-b-i-t
When Idris needs to convey something quickly, complex, he will usually write down notes, but is not against writing notes in everyday conversation either
In combat I will be breaking up action with brackets { } these tend to convey quick action and gestures. Such as he’d point between him and another party members which is understood as me and you. And he make a circular gesture to the person he’s pointing at {tag, you go around}
Generally when Idris is in everyday conversation, he expresses his meanings through gestures, but also exaggerated gesticulation and exaggerated expression to give people into the tone and insight that he is “speaking” in with his gesture. A stern scowl and a point may be addressed as a forceful You. While a genuinely point with a smile may be a general You.
In Combat his gestures are usually commanding, though not in a forceful or angry way. Though he leads the charge in an assured general way. As if conducting and strategizing a plan of attack.
Idris fifth way of communicating is through “speaking”. It’s his least favorite form because he doesn’t know if he’s saying the right things. He also speaks slowly, he speaks like he lip reads, feeling the letters on his lips because that is the only indicator for him that he may be able to address others appropriately.
Idris is a royal and with his family crest he can claim land in the Deep Forest once again, as long as he has the proof that he is the last of the Beorhtric line.
Idris Bloodline
House Beorhtric
Arvid Bloodline
Beorhtric Exempt
It was Bárðr who opened the Oaken Fort to compromising with the Deep Forest Elves. Becoming good friends with Tlaloc Aldamir in their adolescent. In order to show good faith between the Elves of the Deep and the Human race, Tlaloc and Bárðr decided to unite their clans and heritage through their families. Offering their first born children to be wedded in the near future. Eirian and Bárðr had two sons Hanslett and Arvid and one daughter Margaret. Margaret fled to join a group of Deamon worshipers at fourteen an act of rebellion against her mother and father. Margaret's fate was never known and Bárðr forbid anyone to speak of her. Some say she was devoured by a Deamon. Others say she still lives today. The fate of Bárðr other son Hanslett was more regularly spoken. During the time Elves were brought into the Oaken Fort, Hanslett killed one of the elves and laid a rally against the elven visitors with a group of individuals he had rallied under one flag. Bárðr furious with his actions exiled his son instead, in hopes his fate would be worst than death. Arvid has always been Bárðr blessed son, is what many in Oaken Fort called. He experienced many years of good wealth, fertility, and a happy marriage. If Bárðr had lived through Arvid's accomplishments he would have been proud.
Clan Aldamir
Afon's Line
Clan Aldamir is a name given to a long standing clan that proceeds Tlaloc. It goes back to as far as one of his great great great great ancestors line and it was a name blessed by them by their people to say their beauty was as beautiful as the forest itself. "Tree Jewel" is what it translates to and they are the jewel of the forest with their beauty and grace. Tlaloc has always been a blessed and praised Grand. He has been grandmaster of the Deep Forest Kingdom for several years now, praised by his people to tame the forest in a way others could not. He exudes what the forest is all about Tlaloc says the forest will change, and thus the Elven people must change. A thought that probably occurred to him more during his childhood friendship with Baror. Tlaloc probably would have never mingled with the Human folk if not for Baror's vision of the world. It isn't that Tlaloc didn't like humans, the thought never occurred to him. He says sometimes the Elven people are like trees, they stick in place, but humans are like seeds that are carried by the wind and bring new diversity to the land. Tlaloc welcomes them and adored his Half Elf children, he saw it as welcomed change. As after all the Deep Forest Elves were once Sun Elves who mingled with the Moss Wood Elves. You cannot prosper if you do not change.
And a few out of place lines in history. Which I have demonstrated.
The pair had managed to conceal their partnership for the better half of a year, but when the baby started to grow in Viola's belly.
This comes off silly. Nobody would write this beside a small child. This could be better written as I gave given the example of "They kept their relationship concealed for half year, till Viola fell with child." Sounds much nicer and cleaner than belly.
It was either they dragged their child around the land with them as they ran from Vampires and humans alike, or leave him on the doorstep of Granny Gertrude.
You don't explain how they know Gertrude or why this would be an option they would choose. You don't need to have a crazy Arisen history, however, you do needs detail. Which are lacking here.
However! I love everything about Archy and he seems like a great character. Besides those two little gripes of mine which can easily be fixed.
The shuttle began to circle around to a car park. Trafalgar Square seemed to have transformed overnight into a splash of streamers, golds, yellows, and blue streamers decorated the street lights in spiraling designs, loud music, and several several vendors were spread across the large square hall. Furthermore to emphasize the theme of the park it seemed several people, not a good portion of the crowd were semi naked or completely painted in various different shades of blue, green, violet, yellow. Some wore partial halloween costumes, devil horns spray painted white. There were even some people who had spray painted their body to look like Bridget, though none of them stood as tall as she did.
Those not brave enough to dawn facepaint, wore t-shirts and jeans. Many of them said, New Breed Ally, or I <3 SYNBAD, others said New Breed is my Spirit Animal. So and so forth. The smell of many different kind of vendor foods all collided together into one “parade smell”. A smell you couldn’t describe unless you were at a parade to realize that certain particular smell. A DJ sat on the stage blasting music as a crowd of people off tune and out of key with each other.
“You guys have fun!” the DJ shouted.
The crowd hollered in joy, “YEAH!!”
Bikes were decorated with different colored streamers. Some creative folks had decided to turn said bikes into different types of monstrosities. As if they were meant for another parade, and yet they didn’t seem to recognize the disconnect.
At times like this Viorel felt like he still experienced culture shock. He never remembers parades being so. Well he wasn’t sure the right word to use to describe his feelings on the matter were.
“Well there are several convincing Bridget cosplays, though she may stand out of the crowd due to her height,” Viorel said an attempt at humor in the car park, though his delivery was so dry no one actually caught the humor aspect, “Keep in contact with with each other. We’ll meet back here later when the festivities have begun to die down. Have fun. Don’t get into any trouble and to remember to support small local businesses that have remained open.”
Angelica hops out of the drivers side and leans on the shuttle.
“Make it sound real boring Viorel,” Angelica tells, “Awight listen up you fuckheads. I want this to be nice and clean. You will kiss the public’s hand if they ask. Fuckin’ kiss their babies forehead. If they ask for a photo. You give them a photo, Bridgett. I want this to go nice and clean. And you will all behave like fucking kiss asses. This could go good for us. Get a lot of sponsorship and funding. And if any of you fucking wankers ruin this for me. There will be a titty twister waiting for you. And now Luka you won’t enjoy it because I’ll fucking tear your nipples off cause I got fucking bear hands. Do all of you shit stains understand?”
It was a rhetorical question because she dismisses them with her hand. Viorel escorts Gemina out of the car park. While the rest of them are wandering off, with a look of fear and confusion. The parade is upon them, and they have become the public’s face. It was a social due or die situation. Where every action they took would be used to judge them. For better or for worse.
As they scattered with their plans in mind. There was this overwhelming daunting feeling about this event. On one hand it was meant to be fun. On another hand there was a lot of pressure to perform appropriately.
Affliction would have responded to the individual whom he disregarded his violent reasoning, if not for the fact that he blacked out with the others.
In any normal circumstance, someone might have been terrified at the idea of seeing visions of death, cosmic horror, annihilation of the world. Though it had become a familiarity to dream about the abnormal these days.
**
When he came around, his head felt a bit fuzzy. He couldn’t tell if it were from the trigger event or the fact that a wall of meat was calling him quietly. He took a second. Before switching his attention to Swarm. Something had bothered him about the earlier interactions.
“Do you always make decisions impulsively?” Affliction ask him, slowly recalling what a response even sounds like.
This was a strange dive this event. Normally Affliction would be spending the time with his cats at home. Gaining a following. Or find some way to further his invest in the people. It would be the people who would create an uprise. Not a lone vigilante. People need an image to aspire to, like a Buddha or a God. He hadn’t yet found the Buddha or the God he could persuade others to. Not quite yet that is. But chaos only caused scattering, they needed a unification. Or that is the way he saw it.
Sure you could cut the snake’s head off and that certainly would destroy an organization. However, what that man failed to realize was that an organization was more like a tree. The leader was the base, and the branches the organization. Go ahead and cut the tree, a tree lays a seed in the ground and rejuvenates over time. Instead you took the tree, you took whatever was heading it and you find a way to stimulate yourself into the group. Take down their highest structural pillars. Become those pillars replacements and have the leader under your thumb.
Sometimes the best course of action was one so subtle you’d barely knew it was an action. So many people want these spectacular displays of their power. Vials. And the inability to see that random chaos had no end goal. You would not erect or change the course of society that way.
He knew he should be following the others behind, but something had caught his eye. A strange log out of place with the large trees that the others seemed impressed with. He was still feeling nervous about all the events that had happened. Anxiety clashing and even though the tightening his chest had faded, the pain was still there. Often the only thing that eased this sensation was to draw. This log seemed different, broken cracks reminded him of stain glass. Stain glass made from bark. A dryad must have made these broken, mossy colors, and put them into the image that it presented itself. That or it could have been a natural programming flaw to look more authentic. Though he tried to push that aside. Taking out his sketchbook and beginning to sketch what was in front him. Conjuring up the silhouette of a jovial, kind face of a dryad. He had forgotten Kokomon was even here or that there were others. Drawing a dreamland to escape the uncomfortable dark thoughts that had begun to surface. Until Kokomon sat on top of his sketchbook.
“We’re going to lose the others,” Kokomon tells him.
He looks towards the pathway the trees were creating. Indeed he was losing them. But he was hoping that if he stayed behind that all of this would fade to black and be a weird dream. Kokomon looked at him and he looked back.
“I am really not,” Kei mumbled, “a hero.”
Kokomon takes a second.
“I think Dorumon has high expectations, but we cannot runaway from the threat,” Kokomon tells him.
“I know,” Kei replies, he stares at the grass, “I know, but I’ll just bother everybody. I’m younger than them and this whole entire time, I have behaved like a baby.”
Kokomon says nothing just stares at him. Kei looks away.
Rachel had already been walking ahead of them. Her eyes, narrowing at what could happen to them. It wasn’t like this was simply easy to figure out. They didn’t really know exactly where they were going. They had just gotten separated from everyone a bit ago.
Sunmon bounced behind her, “Hey Rachel, how much longer do you think until we’re over there.”
Rachel felt a vein pulsed in her forehead, twitching. Just why was her Digimon asking her? Didn’t he know exactly where they were, “You’re not around too much here, are you?”
“Well, not really.” Sunmon muttered to himself, “I don’t really know this area. I was too busy trying to find you.”
Rachel sweatdropped, “Well ain’t that lovely.” She remarked sarcastically, “Just our luck.” She stretched her arms out, yawning before realizing Kei and Kokomon were a bit behind her. She turned over to them, “Hey, we really need to keep moving!” She told him, crossing her arms across her chest. They couldn’t dawdle in a situation like this.
“Reicheru-san,” Kei calls out, he looks at Kokomon, then back at her, he gets up from the ground. He didn’t want to be made fun of. Just a stupid kid. He walks a bit closer to Reicheru, he supposed he hadn’t met her new friend now. Kei looks up at her, “Sorry. I uh.”
He scrunches up his face, “Do you still think this is all still a dream? Or is it really real?” Kei pauses, “Oh hello. Do you know Kokomon?” he ask her new watch friend.
She looked over at him, blinking at the nickname. Ah, yeah, Japanese name she had to remember that. She didn’t know too much about Japanese culture, but she knew they had honorifics. She decided that was fine, but the kid was pretty young once she thought about it, very young in fact. It made her note that she’ll have to help him if needed. She wasn’t fond of kids, but she knew it was pretty traumatic even more for him.
She sighed, shrugging at him, crossing her arms across her chest, “Unfortunately. It’s probably real.” She stated, “I don’t know about this whole prophecy thing, but it’s pretty bad they just slammed us into this world. Almost sadistic, really.” She paused, stopping herself. Damn, she shouldn’t be saying things around this kid. It was only going to get him even more freaked out, “Sorry, I really shouldn’t be saying that. It’s just that these guys strike me as pretty crazy if they just kidnapped us here.” Dorumon was a odd one and while Rachel still didn’t trust people from this Digital World, it wasn’t like they had much of a choice but to follow in order to survive.
She looked down at the other Digimon, “Oh no, I don’t know him. Hello Kokomon.” Meanwhile, Sunmon was hiding behind her leg, “Hey, introduce yourself. It’s alright.” She told him before Sunmon hopped over to Kokomon.
“Hi, I’m Sunmon.” He grinned nervously, being a little shy. He wasn’t good at interacting with other people.
That was something Kei could have agreed with this. This could have been done in a much different way and thinking about it, he was still anxious, but he was also growing irritated with the situation. If Dorumon wanted their help then he needed to make more of an effort. Balloons don’t sooth over the fact they were taken from their homes.
“Hi,” Kei told Sunmon, “I’m Kei and this is Kokomon.”
Kokomon smiles, “Hiya Reicheru-san.” imitating the name that Kei had called her. Kokomon looked impressed with himself that he had paid attention.
Introductions aside Kei nodded his head. There was no point in being mopey. Reicheru-san was right, they had no other choice. That’s fine, but he was going to give Dorumon a piece of his mind.
“We should catch up to the others,” Kei told her, “I have somethings to tell Dorumon if he wants our help.”
Rachel smiled at his comment, resting her hands in her long black short sleeve sweater, “Yeah, I got a bone to pick with him myself.” She rested her hand on her hips and sighed, “Let’s keep going. The last thing we need is to get lost more so than what we already are.” She knew that damn dinosaur had something. Purple dinosaurs were always suspicious just look at Barney. Dude in the costume was apparently a drug dealer.
Kid got a little bit of bite, she noticed. That was good. Showed her that he wasn’t much of a delicate kid despite being the youngest of the group.
Storming passed the hall of trees Kei convulsively rehearsed out loud to open air, “Next time you take people you have to explain clearly what you want from them. You can’t just expect people to help you because you….you...you look...like a sad puppy.”
Kei nods his head at his own convictions. While a minute ago he felt emotional vertigo, now there was agitated storm brewing inside of him. He points at the air to no one in particular, “You listen here Dorumon. If you want our help, you have to tell who is involved, why we’re fighting and why we truly have to help you. You….know what...you can’t just give the droopy...dog eyes at us and expect us to feel sorry for you.”
Kokomon stares directly at Kei. What is he doing? Has his master already lost his mind?
“What are you doing?” Kokomon ask Kei.
“Yelling at Dorumon,” Kei replies quickly.
“He’s not here,” Kokomon looks around, “they are up ahead.”
“In my mind, I am yelling at Dorumon in my mind,” Kei replied.
“Why are we mad at Dorumon?” Kokomon asked.
“Would you like being taken and locked up, not knowing that someone took you somewhere with potential danger without saying goodbye to your family?” Kei asked Kokomon.
“Probably not,” Kokomon replies, “Okay. What’s a droopy dog?”
“It’s when someone gives you a pity look and wants your forgiveness,” Kei replies.
He’s absorbing everything Kei has said. Now he’s mad at Dorumon and he’s not sure why. But Kei seems mad. So, it’s natural right, that he should be mad too?
Wow, this kid was weird. Rachel scratched the back of her head nervously. Not that she wasn’t thinking about how she was going to tell off Dorumon. He definitely had a backbone for sure. Very fiesty kid. Honestly, she was glad that she got lost with him and not any of the others. He seemed like the easiest one to get along with, honestly.
“Why do people argue out loud, Rachel?” Sunmon asked curiously, looking a little nervous. For such a small human, he was really feisty.
“To let out their emotions.” Rachel assumed, shrugging, twirling a lock of her brown, curly hair, “Kei, are you going to give Dorumon one heck of a chew out that I won’t have to?” She asked, chuckling. She wanted to mess with him to lighten the mood. She couldn’t stand everything feeling so damn dark.
“Why would he want to chew out Dorumon?” Sunmon asked.
Well, so much for lighting the mood now. She was getting annoyed.
“Well, he fucked our lives over pretty much.” She shrugged, “Could get us all killed.”
“What do you mean by fucking our lives over?” Sunmon wondered, looking confused, “We can’t die, the prophecy probably doesn’t say anything like that…”
“For the love of all that is good, you’re really an airhead, aren’t you.” Rachel twitched, sighing to herself. And this timid, odd little Digimon is her partner? Are these people for real?
When Reicheru pointed out he was arguing with nobody Kei flailed his arms around a bit nervously. Feeling the heat of his cheeks he had a bad habit of behaving weird in front of others. He must have looked like a mess crying then yelling at the air.
“Aaa, I am sorry Reicheru-san,” Kei said nervously, “I...must look weird. I am sorry.” He looks down at the ground a bit. He really wasn’t made for interacting with other people, is he?
Kokomon watches Kei.
“Kei? When are we going to get snacks?” Kokomon ask.
“Eh, I’m not going to judge you for that.” Rachel shrugged turning back away from him before continuing to walk along, “No need to apologize, Kei. It didn’t bother me at all. It just took me by surprise is all. She sighed, “Besides, we should worry about more important things at the moment.”
“Like saving the digital world!” Sunmon piped up.
“Nah, to get ourselves back home and back to safety.” She stretched her arms out, “Didn’t think I was going to play the heroine role here, but guess it’s been thrusted upon me.” She sweatdropped, looking down at Sunmon who looked happy that she said such things, “Yeah, I just admitted I have to deal with you. Are you happy now?”
“Of course I am!” Sunmon cheered happily, bouncing happily, “Means that you’ll save our worlds.”
Get me out of this anime cliche. Rachel thought to herself, groaning mentally to herself.
She seemed nice like Kyasari-san earlier. No one has really made fun of him yet, at least he didn’t get the feeling. Despite him being a baby upon their first meeting.
“Thank you,” Kei mumbles, “For not making fun of me that is. I get made fun of a lot, so it’s good not to be. I know I do odd stuff, but I promise I’ll…”
He really had no choice. Couldn’t really make a promise based on a task forced upon him. Yet, here he was.
“To help save the world too, but I am mad because we needed to know that beforehand, I’ll do it, but because…..I want to,” Kei mumbles that didn’t come out as he wanted it to come out.
“Oo, I like the sound of that, but on the way, snacks,” Kokomon throws his hint out once again.
“People tend to let out the negativity out of their lives and onto other people.” She crossed her arms across her chest, “Granted, that doesn’t give them the right to do such things, but you won’t have to worry about anyone messing with you.” Because she’d kick the crap out of them if they did, “Don’t worry, I don’t intend on watching a friend of mine get hurt. It’s not like me to sit back when someone’s getting pushed around.” But it has gotten her into bad situations, but that was okay. She was still going to do it, regardless.
“Ah, I got a sister I really love back in our world.” Rachel nodded, “I wanna get out of here to be there for her. I can’t be dying if she’s around. She needs me, after all.” She turned over to Kokomon, “We really shouldn’t be worrying about snacks when our lives are on the line and we don’t know where we’re going.” She sighed. Man, they are really doomed, aren’t they?
“Can’t save the world on an empty stomach,” Kokomon retorts, “Food is important to keep up one’s strength.” Kei looks at Kokomon.
“Where did you get that from?” Kei asked Kokomon.
“Hopmon,” Kokomon says happily. It sounded wise to him.
Coming through the clearing now the group becoming visible, though they were scattering away as a loud explosion could be heard. As the two of them reached the clearing, they caught the end of an orange Dinosaur attacking a Dorumon, grabbing him by his tail. Something like a beam came from Dorumon’s mouth and the orange dinosaur was blown away through the clearing of the forest.
Rachel put her arm in front of Kei as she saw the orange dinosaur being blown away through the clearing of the forest. Her eyes widened at the sight, startled, “Okay, what the hell just happened?” She covered her face before looking over at Dorumon. Was that orange dinosaur being blown away done? Or did they have to worry about that thing trying to kill them?
“Ah, that was an Agumon.” Sumon squeaked, “And if Dorumon is actually fighting him, he must be an enemy.”
“Well no, I thought he was on a nice little stroll.” Rachel remarked sarcastically, “We shouldn’t just rush in though. What if he isn’t done yet?” She pointed out. She didn’t want all of them dying already.
Witnessing Agumon’s attack was the first realization that this wasn’t a dream. It was like slowly connecting the dots together. Kei looks at Reicheru, “What about the others?”
Rachel looked around, trying to see if she saw the others, taking a few steps forward before looking around, seeing nothing really. She looks like she’ll have to go and see for herself. That would be pretty dangerous though.
She gulped, “Well, I can’t see them, but I’ll take a look at them.” She looked at Sunmon, “Let’s go!”
“Ah, but you said it would be reckless to rush in…” Sunmon began before she was cut off by Rachel.
“Don’t think we have much of a choice at this point, honestly.” Rachel sighed, “Dorumon might chew my head off, but I’m not intending on just rushing while he’s helping. I’m gonna try to navigate around. Let’s hope there isn’t any other ones running around here intending on hurting us.” Sumon popped on her shoulder.
“I’m going to help,” Kei utters quickly following after Reicheru. Even if they couldn’t see the others they had to be here, somewhere, right?
“I’ll help too,” Kokomon says with a bit more enthusiasm than the situation should call for.
Looking around as the dust settled, it seemed like the others were not here. Only a handful maybe, in the bushes. Was it safe now? What if there was a second attack? Further exploring the surroundings Kei paused as he saw a shoe. Tristan was lying face down in the dirt, with the back of his head bleeding slightly. Kei could feel a squirming in his stomach.
“Reicheru-san,” he calls out, as Dorumon seems to be confused looking around for which direction the kids had went.
Rachel was running back over to him, taking the scenic route that she had planned beforehand before hearing Kei’s voice in the distance. She quickly ran forward before she panted.
Her eyes widened at the sight of Tristan. She looked over at him before she covered her mouth with her hand, trying to keep herself from freaking out, “Oh God…” She breathed. Did that dinosaur do that? The one that Dorumon fought earlier? It had to have been him.
Sunmon felt tears going down his face, “Oh no, one of the children has died. This isn’t...this isn’t supposed to go like this…” This was horrible. What could they do? How were they going to tell the others?
He couldn’t stop his body from shaking he couldn’t tell if he were really sad or if there was another emotion bubbling from within. Torisutan didn’t get to say goodbye to his family, his family didn’t say goodbye to him. They didn’t know, they didn’t know that today could have been the last day. Dorumon just took them and now and now and now. Kei turns his head to glare at Dorumon though tears are blurring his vision. Dorumon’s head is low in that sad droopy looking face he gave earlier explaining nothing.
Dorumon looks sadly at the Digidestined. He didn’t want this to happen. He told them to run. What was he supposed to do now? What about the other Digidestined, he told them to run, he didn’t know they would run in different directions. Things weren’t going the way they were supposed too. Wiping a tear for the Digidestined Dorumon went to reach for the human’s arm.
Whap!
Dorumon was hit much harder on the head by the same book earlier. The tiniest Digidestin was glaring at him fiercely with angry tears in his eyes.
“This is your fault!” Kei shouted, “You took us here. You don’t get to make that expression or that face when you’re the one who took us here! You never explained this world to us. You never asked us! And now look!”
Dorumon was taken aback that this human boy was fiercely shouting at him. Shame and regret panged his chest. Rubbing his head where it stung, also where he had been burned from Pepper Breaths earlier. Dorumon says in a solemn voice, “I know it is, but I can make it right.”
“How?” Kei asked, “Tell me how. Because right now everyone is out there in the forest. Lost. They could get hurt. And Torisutan parents, his family, what about them? Can you give them that back?”
Dorumon looks to the ground. The longer they were here, the other Digidestin may have gone too far. The boy was crying and yelling and Dorumon couldn’t tell if he were angry or sad.
Rachel watched Kei smack Dorumon in the face in the sketchbook, watching the kid get angry at Dorumon. She clenched her fists, shaking, gritting her teeth. She couldn’t utter any crying, but she was angry. She didn’t like feeling this fucking useless. She hated being useless more than anything in this world. She was angry that this kid had to die. She was angry at the enemy for hurting him. She was angry at herself for not being strong enough. She needed to do something to make sure nothing happens to the others. She could do something about it. She needed to take this as something that she needed, no that was absolutely unable to happen again.
She wanted to tear their damn boss apart for doing what he did. He was partially responsible. If he wanted a battle, she’ll fucking give him one.
Dorumon, as much as she wanted to yell at him too, she finds herself unable to. She knows he’s suffering as well. This was hard on him as any of them, and that, was punishment in of itself.
Something suddenly went off on her digivice, her eyes widened before she noticed that Sunmon was being encoded with light. Was this….?
When the light faded, it showed a Coronamon. That’s what it said in her Digivice anyways. Did he just Digivolve?
“Whoa, I digivolved.” Coronamon grinned, “Which is awesome. See, Rachel, we can really get stronger. My digievolution happened. Just like your heart wanted.”
Rachel’s eyes widened, not believing this, but it happened, and she nodded, “We’ll do more than that, I promise.”
“I like that fighting spirit in you.” Coronamon grinned, punching his fist into the air.
She looked over at Kei, “Let’s go after the others. Let’s find them and make sure they’re safe.” She rested a hand on his shoulder, “It’s what Tristan would’ve wanted.”
Kei looks at Dorumon than Reicheru. Sunmon’s evolved before their eyes. So it is true? All of this is true. Real as well.
Dorumon tucks his tail behind his legs, his ears droop, “I’m sorry I failed you as a Guardian of the Digidestined. I have to get Tristan’s Digivice so that way I find the next candidate for the crest.”
Kei looked at Reicheru. Then back at Dorumon.
“How does that work?” Kei asked.
“Well the Digivice will create a portal to this world, but not yours. It gets the Digidestined here, but it can’t take them back,” Dorumon tells Kei as he removes the Digivice from Tristan’s wrist. Dorumon looks sadly at the body.
“So, we’re going to get another, Digidestined?” Kei ask. He didn’t like the idea that Toristan could so easily be replace. This world is callous.
“Yes,” Dorumon responded, “I will speak with them and convince them to come.”
Kei didn’t like those prospects. Dorumon speak to the person he was going to bring into here. Dorumon, the one who tried to smooth this over with balloons and thought he was doing a good job communicating with them.
“Anyone can speak to them?” Kei asked.
“Yes, in a way,” Dorumon replies.
“I’ll do it, I’ll speak with them and I’ll tell everything they need to know,” Kei told Dorumon.
Meanwhile Kokomon looks sadly at the Digidestined who didn’t make it. Poor thing, he felt bad, he wasn’t sure what to do. Noticing Coronamon Kokomon with respect simply says, “Congratulations.”
“Thank you, but I couldn’t do it without Rachel’s strong determination. Hey, I feel a lot less scared now and it’s all thanks to you.” He scratched the back of his head, “Just don’t do anything rash, Rachel.”
She sighed, knowing fully well that someone like Kei probably didn’t like how replaciable Tristan was, and she couldn’t blame him. However, she did see Dorumon’s point as well. It was what they needed. As grim as that really was, she understood it. They needed someone to fill the slot and that, unfortunately, meant that someone else was going to get involved in this.
“Kei, let’s make sure we find the others.” Rachel turned to him, “And let’s make sure someone doesn’t share the same fate as our friend just did.” It was hard to call him friend, really. She didn’t even know him.
“That’s why we have to,” Kei pause, “Bring the other person in. The right way. To find the others. And keep everyone from…” he didn’t want to say it so he simply trailed off. It’s when he noticed Seven standing up from his hiding position. Oh. Oh that’s embarrassing. He probably saw what happened with his artbook again. Kei turned his attention away from Seven. Looking at Reicheru, “We...have to be.” he shook his head she’s the who’s Digimon evolved, “After this. You should...guide us.”
Koray is an odd one indeed, it’s hard to begin to describe him. Those who know him have a hard time explaining him. On one hand he probably has more energy than them, seemingly moving nimbly and acrobatic with such a large weapon. As if movement doesn’t restrict him. Another hand the young man is wearing half plate armor, but he moves with speed that shouldn’t be possible. With a strength that should slow him down. A fierce fighter and a stronger personality Koray is as fiery as his name suggest, but as enigmatic as the mysterious of a full moon.
To even begin to detail Koray’s strange odd fashion would be lengthy and take days. Many question how someone can own so many catsuits and be able to get in and out of them everyday. Or how he can find plated armor and a bodysuit comfortable. His outfits are slightly various, and he’s seen with an interesting array of looks. The picture above this shows Koray wearing a tunic, with two loose tassels at each corner, with a bodysuit and plated armor. Though there is something interesting with Koray and his plated armor. At least for most of his outfits with gems, he wears them as bicep bracelets and knee shin guards. When the gem is activated, the plated armor is retracted out.
Mostly straight, long white hair often kept neat and tied in the back, beside a few times that it may be styled by someone else. His eyes are often highlighted by a starkly contrasting red and blue eyeliner close to his red and blue heterochromia eyes. For someone who wears partial plate armor, his body frame is wiry, lithe, thin, and lean with slight muscle definition, but nothing that would indicate the hardy warrior he is. Somewhat ambiguous body features, but mostly still pretty beauty masculine. For seventeen he stands relatively tall at 5’10”, 177cms, and weighing a solid 135lbs, 61kg. His lean build betrays his otherwise hardy skillset.
“You’re one weird little freak”
“Thank you”
“It wasn’t a compliment”
“Then why would you say it”
“I’m more worried that you’re serious with that response”
-continues to look perplexed-
At looking at Koray you would assume some hardened warrior with the voice as steel as the sword at the side of their hip. You probably expect more facial hair too and maybe a bit older, and a scar across their eye, but we digress. Koray is none of those things. Instead he sounds like someone who doesn’t have a complete grasp of the language, most of the time he’s either lost the meaning entirely of your point, or sounds confused at to its meeting. In fact Koray sounds about as an adolescent boy would sound. It’s silvery and light, it has a grace in it’s cadence steps like that which would indicate even compliment his pretty, but masculine features.
It has a boyishness and charm to it, that’s horribly butchered by broken up sentences when speaking in the common tongue. You won’t hear him compound words like doesn’t and wouldn’t. He’ll say wood not and do not. He’ll likely call someone who’s name is Ray, Rye. Amy might turn into Ah-my. It’s clear that he comes from somewhere far away. Though despite his funny way of pronouncing things, he’s boyish, with a soft spoken tone. Another contradictory upon many of his contradictories.
Awake Mode
“You are done here. Meet annihilation. I will erase you.”
His head drops low as he falls to his knees. Has he given up? Has he finally understood his place in this world?
“Hahahah, giving up already, I guess I will put an end to you and here I was excited for a sheer second. Truly you sent a shiver down my spine,”
A wind begins to pick up, his white hair is blowing in the wind, the hair tie he had been wearing had come off long ago. His hair was beginning to be overtaken by red, crimson began to spill across a white canvas that way you would see ink spread on paper when it was spilled. He began to be surrounded by an overwhelming aura. Wait, was he this strong when you first fought him? You assumed his only magic was still developing. He continues to utter to himself, digging his hands into the earth. He slowly raises his head. Standing up the gem in his chest had begun to glow golden.
“Mock all you like. I meant I will end you.”
He doesn’t sound much different from the boy enjoying himself a minute ago, except angier. The white of his eyes are slowly turning black, as his blue and red eye become golden in color. His aura a forewarning of what you’re in for. His magic, gold like flames. He stares at you with a seriousness he has not otherwise shown earlier. You realize now with that stare, with that aura, that shows you clearly what he will do. He truly meant what was said. This is your end.
Personality:
To say the least Koray is...odd. Part of that probably has to do with the language better, he’s certainly has gotten better with his communication over the years. Though still has a tendency to confuse the meaning of some words for other words. As he is under the impression Alien is used in the same term as beautiful or handsome. Though this doesn’t mean Koray doesn’t communicate well with others, he communicates well enough despite the oddities in his pattern of speech. A habit to use insults like they are adjectives without realizing their negative context. Some who wouldn’t know Korays backstory might read him off as some seventeen year old with manners, while Koray lives in a world where his words are genuinely meant in a positive way. Except how you call someone an alien positively is still confusing to most.
Koray is never purposely mean to others or malicious, it’s his lack of awareness at times that he doesn’t recognize his own slights. Though he’s working on it, he’s genuinely seen as a curious person with a sense of adventure. He rather desires exploration. His goal in life is to see everything the world has to offer. He doesn’t necessarily desire the battles that come with it, however, it is something that he sees is necessary. It isn’t necessarily something he enjoys, though Koray’s own personal resolve means that he will find something in it to enjoy in it. Perhaps it is the sense of freedom it gives him when he’s able to move in a way that defies logic. Though battle is no way to motivate Koray. He rather avoid it, not so much avoidance that he isn’t half the time being the one leading the charge.
He’s actually quite competent on the battlefield. Koray who is an otherwise, somewhat airheaded, but never really dumb off the battlefield, quickly switches gear when it comes to life or death. Everything Koray throws into the fray is for the means of surviving the ordeal. It’s why you’ll see him be the one to strike the first blow. He doesn’t like loud mouths, people who talk a lot about themselves, but have yet to prove themselves. He’s not usually, at least when it comes to combat, one to let another person finish his sentence. Long monologuers beware, you might get a spear thrown at you mid sentence. Act or do not. But if you don’t act someone else will. He will.
Koray is quite intelligent, despite the impression that people would get that he isn’t. It’s probably the language barrier that creates a false narrative. While Koray may look lost and confused with what others have to say, the fact that he’s even learned to communicate as “effectively” as he can now is because he’s a quick learner who picks things up rather quickly. Those who do get to have a conversation with Koray recognize behind the odd speech is someone who is quite rational, with a profound philosophical point of view. Perhaps it's indicative of the culture he originally came from. Someone who respects the mortality of others and honors their enemy as much as their honor their ally. Though that’s not something he’ll talk about on a constant. It’s seen more in his actions than anything else. Koray would never intentionally someone off the battlefield, as he won’t intentionally insult the enemy on the battlefield either. Though Koray isn’t much of a talker on the battlefield. Battlefields are for the clashing of weapons, not ideals.
Koray’s curiosity can get the better of him, he has the type of personality who recognizes both the danger of doing something and yet will do it anyway. If a button says don’t press it, he’s already probably worked out it’s a bad thing. Yet, he’ll do it anyway because an adventure isn’t an adventure without the thrill or taking risk. And perhaps someone has set something up in a way to make it look dangerous, but there could be a great reward behind those who take bold action. He’s also known for doing really weird things as well. There’s a story about a piece of fruit that fell in front of the path they walked, not even a large fruit, probably the size of a pebble and Koray sliced it in half and continued walking forward. People are not necessarily so sure what goes on in Koray’s mind during these moments.
In Sleeping Mode he’s quite docile. The best way to motivate Koray is not through battle, but expressing the adventure he is about to embark. The journey is more important to Koray than the end. Koray is quite social and doesn’t let his lack of proper language get in the way. Though few people are patience with him as patience as he is with them.
In Awake Mode, it’s not quite a personality shift, but Koray’s usual demeanor changes from the curious adolescent to a much more serious individual. While his views of battle may have not changed, as Awake Mode is not a separate personality, Awake Mode can be quite cold and callous to life and death. In Awake Mode you are only set for death when you face him. Koray doesn’t necessarily care in this mode and seems blinded by whatever emotion has been the one to awaken this mode. Whether it to be to protect his friends, that is his singular goal. Or that be that he’s really pissed and wants you dead, that is his singular goal.
Koray is aware of all his actions. Though he’s not necessarily how he should process the things he does in Awake Mode. Should it be guilt and shame? Should it be regret? In those states Koray doesn’t necessarily care for the individual and a part of him will always be unclear, as he is blinded by the state of emotion that put him in that mind frame in the first place.
Skills:
Language Barrier Mastery
Koray has seemed to master the language barrier with not only butchered sentence structures, but complimentary words that actually have negative context to them. He uses the word Alien and Idiot in the same context you use Beautiful and Handsome. He’s also mastered to get him lost a few times in the city because of his inability to read the signs properly. There’s a story about how he got lost going to the Dragons Cry Club and ended up at the Dragon Port Tavern.
Valiah [Vah-ly-ah] Tribe Warfare
Before a clansman can become a titled Guide, they go through rigorous training of the mind, body and spirit before they are put up to the task of the Virtue of Mortality. And even then not all make it through the training and each training is different depending on the responsibility expected of you in the clan. It is these lessons that are the answers to Koray’s uniqueness. Young boys and girls who are to be expected to be the clans protectors are put through harsh physical training. Taught to swim with weights on their ankles, or to climb trees with acrobatic finesse wearing heavy jackets with weighted plates. Their minds and spirits constantly tested with states of depravity, hunger, isolation, and abandonment. Their spirits put to the test through nightmares induced by tribe witch doctors that they must overcome. If the test are not passed through either death or that your mind breaks, you are abandoned from the tribe and not qualified for the ritual of titled Guide. Not only are they trained, but they given the knowledge of various based weaponry upon the understanding the Virtue of Mortality will drain them of their vigor. That war is about sacrificing a part of oneself for power. Power comes at a cost and the cost is a part of yourself. If you do not understand tribulation then you will not be able to protect others.
Minor Weapon Repair
Part of his training was learning how to repair his tools on the spot with quick fixes. He’s no blacksmith or craftsman, but if there is a crack or chip, he can easily find a mend or repair that would be serviceable until he could get it appropriately fixed.
Quick Solutions
Koray is also pretty quick at coming up with solutions to the a problem or scenario. Again do to his training in his tribe, sometimes you were thrown out into the forest with no plans. You had to keep your wits about you and come up with quick on the spot solutions to any number of problems that could occur. While Koray’s lack of language may make others think he’s dumb, it is quite the opposite. Koray is sharp and cunning, he sees the world with a near limitless amount of possibilities and opportunities.
Survivalist
Sometimes when you’re thrown out into the wilderness to fend for yourself, you have to learn quickly how to survive that scenario. You need to learn where to make your camp, how to start a fire, how to tie a knot, how to fish, and how subsist off of nothing. Koray is a sufficient survivalist, if you are to get lost in the wild you’d likely want to get lost with Koray, His ability to come up with solutions combined with his ability to utilize survivalist knowledge means you’re least likely to die with him around.
Magical Items Carried:
Embrie [Em-bree] - Spear Pointed Polearm
When he survived the Virtue of Mortality, he was gifted upon the Embrie. A golden spear pointed polearm, with his name carved into its shaft from his Father. When inactive the spear looks about as ordinary as a spear gets, despite it’s ornate design, a spiraling prong, and spike head. When the spear is activated unsheathed, it lights aflame.
Ounderous [Oon-der-us] - Bow n Arrow
An enchanted bow of his clan, gifted to him by the Grand Guidance when he decided to set out on his journey. The bow charges every arrow that is drawn with its string with a slight bit of electricity. Though the electric arrows have another feature, which is used to act like a conduit to each other. He may strike an enemy with a singular arrow, or surround them with arrows, to release a supercharged arrow for it to arc to every other arrow as well. Having the enemy receive a shock of their lifetime.
Magic:
Virtue of Mortality - Lost Magic
In the Valiah there is one thing that grants all life secret, knowledge, and power, and that is the Godiah’s Stone. These Stones are said to be the origins of magic, at least in their clans lore it is. It is the tears of their Goddess Creator left behind in this world when her lover left her. And this stone grants those that bond with it a great boon for a great cost. Their bodies become host to the crystal so it may be harvested again to repeat the cycle. A cycle that has been going on for many years when the Guidance found the power of the crystals serviceable to the people. Depending on one’s expectations and duties in the tribe, the Godiah, Goddess Eye Stone, is inserted in different parts of the body.
For the Pedagogue a symbol of their knowledge is to accept the Virtue of Mortality inserted in the center of their foreheads. The Crystal will eventually fuse with their skulls and in the temples, the Ruby Skulls are erected in their honor after death. While the Crystal is parasitic in nature, it is a symbiotic relationship with the one that host it. Connecting itself to their bloodstream and subsisting off the same components a human life might need. Thus removing the crystal after a while becomes dangerous as the body compensates for the crystal.
For the Vanquisher the crystal is placed in the individual's heart and displayed in the center of their chest. The Vanquisher earns the title Ruby Heart if he or she makes it through complete fusion with the Crystal. While the Crystal for the Pedagogue is a concern, they have more expectation to fuse to adulthood with the crystal without issue. The Vanquisher could die before the ritual is complete for a number of reasons;
The initial cause of death would be during the ritual itself, when the chest is cut open and the surgery to perform the fusion is taking place. Some end up bleeding out before they can be closed up.
The second cause of death would be after the ritual during the first phase of fusion. The first phase of fusion begins in the first year of the crystal being placed inside their chest. This is often when the body rejects the crystal and begins an autoimmune response in the same way it would if it were to reject an organ.
The third cause of death would be the year after the first phase of fusion when there was something that went wrong during the first phase of fusion that the fusion fused in the wrong way and begins a painful process of heart failure or even the heart fails to beat properly at all.
And even if the Vanquisher makes it through all of that after the ritual. There are still trials to face as the crystal takes five years to fully phase to the Vanquisher.
Though due to the nature of the ritual. The training before the insertion is considered crucial, fail to pass it, then you will never be given a Godiah Stone. And those in the tribe are heavily screened by their Witch Doctors in order to find those most susceptible to magic in order to handle the ritual better, As death is not the end goal of this ritual. But it is a way to bless one with the boon of their Goddess.
Within the tribe there are other professions that would be honored for fusion. Witch Doctors are given Crystals in their hands, a symbolization of their healing and abilities to connect with the world with merely a magical touch. And Overseer, the one who looks over the whole of the tribe. His crown would be made of the crystal fusion surrounding his head and fusing into it, his heart is the God’s center, and his hands are the Gods touch. To earn the position of Overseer one must be durable. And every few centuries the Foreseer the one to look into the future may have a crystal fused to one eye.
Koray’s Boon from the Godiah Stone is Demonic Inversion.
The two main states of Koray’s magic are Sleep Mode [Inactive] and Awake Mode [Active]. Inactive the Godiah Stone passively records any spell directed towards him. It doesn’t record any spell that has not directly come into the stone and the stone does not absorb damage. Koray is still affected by spells like an ordinary person. Instead the spells the Godiah Stone records becomes Koray’s spells during Awake Mode.
Sleep Mode
During Sleep Mode Koray struggles to make his own magical powerful. For those who are not aware of his Demonic Inversion, they would probably write him off as a struggling lesser mage who just learned to practice a few spells. But Koray’s Godiah Stone inactive makes it difficult for him to conjure enough powerful spells to take down powerful opponents. It’s why Koray relies heavily on his physical combat in Sleep Mode. Though it is best not to underestimate Koray as an incompetent mage. With what little magic he does have, he uses to enhances the enchantments in his blades. The stone absorbs or perhaps blocks too much of his own magic to make his magic worth fighting with.
There are other issues that are more prominent in Sleep Mode than they are in Awake Mode which allows him to block and ignore most things due to having a singular drive. Due to the fact that he is only on his second year of fusion he suffers from sharp chest pains. Though they don’t bother him as much as they use to, not when he was first given the stone. Still they come from time to time and they can be like someone is stabbing him every heartbeat.
He also is drained of all of his magic coming out of Awake Mode and requires time to recover his magic beforehand.
While in Sleep Mode though he has all the natural durability a mage might, he simply has a hard time conjuring his own spells.
Awake Mode
Unfortunately Koray does not have the ability to access Awake Mode on himself. It is often awakened by a strong, powerful, desire or emotion i.e. the emotion to protect friends, the desire to survive, etc. The stone in his chest is often affected by a strong adrenaline rush in which he transforms into his demonic state. When the Stone is activated Koray has access to his own magic, which has been sealed and stored in the stone when Inactive and has access mainly to all the Spells directed towards him in battle. Because Koray was never taught or knows any spells of his own, his own combat in Awake Mode heavily relies on the amount of Spells he has acquired over the length of the battle.
Even with that said Koray’s awake mode is vast and quite powerful. Near rivaling the strength of Slayer Magic, due to the fact that it is a Lost Magic. Koray power is overwhelming, it is a heavy aura that sits in the air like a heavy weight. It’s hard to breathe through and turns his stone gold. In this mode Koray is driven by his emotions and usually it is a singular goal. A singular base emotion that doesn’t allow him to see reasoning in this moment. It is eliminate X in front of me to achieve Y that I desire, want need, etc.
Awake Mode may only last upwards of five minutes, but Koray only really needs three to overwhelm his enemy with a relentless power. When coming out of Awake Mode, depending on how long Koray had lasted in Awake Mode and how much of his own magic he used to conjure his opponents spells, Koray may have a migraine, sometimes chest pains, and other times he may collapse coming out of transformation. He had been known to sleep for two days afterward in one scenario. Awake Mode is draining and takes a toll on Koray mentally, and physically.
This is my final word. You are correct I didn’t want you in this RP because you are rude, combative and cannot take a lick of Criticism. I saw the way you treated the other GM, but I gave a you chance. Two chances in fact. And you continue to insult me and those in this RP by stirring up shit in the OOC. I was transparent with my criticism and you threw that back in my face too. So here’s some advice Sleeping, before you join another RP. And it’s the same damned advice I gave you last night. Put the pride aside. Sit down and get the fuck off your high horse because you’re not as important as you like to think. Now you’ll be banned from this RP and blacklisted from other RPs. And I know you don’t care. But I’ll let you know because I am that type of GM. You threw my members under the bus. I am the ONLY ONE who did my post correctly. Well fuck you too. Don’t ever treat me, my CO-GMs, or my members like that. Because you’ll be in for a reckoning to realize I am not always a nice person. And what I think of you, that’s the only reason why I didn’t PM. Is that you are a shit stain who needs to grow the fuck up before they can get online. So maybe come back on the internet when you’re mature adult and not walking around in diapers. Goodbye. And Go Fuck yourself.
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