What can be said about Roan? His personality is pretty stock standard when one thinks about his up-bringing. He has been characterized as a gentle bastard by some of his more... unpleasant acquaintances, but don't be discouraged! He can be very accommodating if he's in a good mood. This usually happens after clearing a quest or making it big in one of the capital's many gambling dens he so loves to patronize - mostly they love him instead but that's a story for another time...
Aside from that, though, Roan is a decent communicator and as far as humor is concerned... let's just say that he tends to keep his wit about him around new people. To his friends and close ones, however, he's very open and straightforward, not beating around the bush when it comes to serious matters and pretty good company when it's time to be merry.
ＢＲＩＥＦ ＢＡＣＫＳＴＯＲＹ
Roan was born in a pretty peaceful village close to the eastern border of Estival. His family consisted of his mother, Lea, his father Grezen, and his two siblings Trey and Calum, 4 and 5 years younger than Roan respectively. His father worked as the sole blacksmith of their village, supporting his family of four decently well. Despite the fact that with the money his father earned, he could be the sole earner of the family and they still would not have problems living a respectable life, Roan's mother insisted that everyone should contribute however they could. Due to this, Roan and his siblings learned the value of work at a very young age.
By the age of 12 he had become an apprentice in his father's smithy, helping around and learning from him the art of the blacksmith. Of course, his father's skills would never measure up to the standards of dwarven metallurgy, but Roan nevertheless loved doing what he did and, or course, his father loved teaching him. This peaceful life lasted for about 4 more years before the incident happened.
The incident is what Roan has dubbed the sudden disappearance of his mother and his two siblings. One fateful day, the then 16 year old Roan returned from the smithy to celebrate the end of his apprenticeship, only to find his home ransacked and empty. The front door had been broken down, the inside of the medium-sized house vandalized and his family members where nowhere to be found.
The incident changed Grezen, and Roan saw a side of his father that he had never seen before. From the proud, stalwart man that treated everyone around him with kindness and hearty laughter, Grezen turned into a deadbeat alcoholic that squandered all their money to feed his newfound gambling addiction. Roan pained to see his father in such a state, however, and tried his everything to keep a semblance of the life they previously had. Since his father had quit working the forge, Roan took up the mantle of village blacksmith. For a few years, he supported his father and himself with his work, and even managed to repair all the damage that their house had been subjected to. Alas, fate had more in store for Roan, however, as one day his father decided to leave as well. Suddenly, one day while he and his father were eating dinner in silence, as they always did after the disappearance, his father pushed his chair back, stood up and walked out the door, never to be seen again.
For several days after, Roan functioned almost mechanically, waking up in the morning and going to work before returning home. He made dinner for himself, ate it in silence and went to sleep. Rinse and repeat. Finally, one day he too realized that he had nothing tying him to the village anymore. His family was gone and the blacksmith position could be easily replaced by someone from the capital.
He boarded up the house and the smithy, bundled up a set of clothing, collected the last bits of gold he had and one of the swords he had made and took off as well. He wandered around, traveled to multiple towns, cities and villages within the borders of Estival, and eventually he found himself passing through the gates of the country's capital. He made his way to the Adventurer Guild's building and joined up. The rest is history...
ＥＱＵＩＰＭＥＮＴ ＆ ＳＫＩＬＬＳ
In battle, Roan is used to being lightly-armored, just enough to have the basic protection needed in order to adventure. Below his hooded cloak and clothing he wears a stiff chain-mail vest that has protects his vital points. His sword, made of good quality steel, is one he had made himself years ago and had yet to fail him. Of course, he takes good care of it and thus it's still razor sharp despite its age. Aside from his weapons and armor, he also has a backpack with assorted adventuring items.
Roan is a Rank 5 Sword adventurer. He has been a part of the Guild for over 8 years and has built up some decent reputation as a quality swordsman. Although having received the basic training the Guild provides to all new adventurers, he's realistically all but learned his swordsmanship through the battles he's faced as an adventurer, slowly growing into the man he is today. He is agile and quick on his feet, able to jump from enemy to enemy with relative ease, while his years of training as a smith has built up a body full of strength, giving him the ability to explode with power whenever he needs to overcome a difficult opponent. His style of swordsmanship is one of relative unpredictability as he's always on the look to exploit a moment of weakness in his enemy's defense in order to finish the battle as fast as possible.
Aside from his fighting abilities, he's an actual quality blacksmith by trade, despite not really practicing the profession all that much in the last few years. His eyes still retain the keenness of one who knows his way around metal, and thus he can identify if a weapon or armor is of good quality from just looking at them for a few moments.
He is also a very bad gambler, but I don't know if this counts a skill or not... he certainly impresses those that run those gambling dens he frequents, he's basically a walking money bag for them, the gift that keeps on giving!
@Caasicam I just realized that I coincidentally made the male form of your character, albeit with small differences lmao. I'm curious to see what will happen...
What can be said about Roan? His personality is pretty stock standard when one thinks about his up-bringing. He has been characterized as a gentle bastard by some of his more... unpleasant acquaintances, but don't be discouraged! He can be very accommodating if he's in a good mood. This usually happens after clearing a quest or making it big in one of the capital's many gambling dens he so loves to patronize - mostly they love him instead but that's a story for another time...
Aside from that, though, Roan is a decent communicator and as far as humor is concerned... let's just say that he tends to keep his wit about him around new people. To his friends and close ones, however, he's very open and straightforward, not beating around the bush when it comes to serious matters and pretty good company when it's time to be merry.
ＢＲＩＥＦ ＢＡＣＫＳＴＯＲＹ
Roan was born in a pretty peaceful seaside village to the east of Venne, the capital of Estival. His family consisted of his mother, Lea, his father Grezen, and his two siblings Trey and Calum, 4 and 5 years younger than Roan respectively. His father worked as the sole blacksmith of their village, supporting his family of four decently well. Despite the fact that with the money his father earned, he could be the sole earner of the family and they still would not have problems living a respectable life, Roan's mother insisted that everyone should contribute however they could. Due to this, Roan and his siblings learned the value of work at a very young age.
By the age of 12 he had become an apprentice in his father's smithy, helping around and learning from him the art of the blacksmith. Of course, his father's skills would never measure up to the standards of dwarven metallurgy, but Roan nevertheless loved doing what he did and, or course, his father loved teaching him. This peaceful life lasted for about 4 more years before the incident happened.
The incident is what Roan has dubbed the sudden disappearance of his mother and his two siblings. One fateful day, the then 16 year old Roan returned from the smithy to celebrate the end of his apprenticeship, only to find his home ransacked and empty. The front door had been broken down, the inside of the medium-sized house vandalized and his family members where nowhere to be found.
The incident changed Grezen, and Roan saw a side of his father that he had never seen before. From the proud, stalwart man that treated everyone around him with kindness and hearty laughter, Grezen turned into a deadbeat alcoholic that squandered all their money to feed his newfound gambling addiction. Roan pained to see his father in such a state, however, and tried his everything to keep a semblance of the life they previously had. Since his father had quit working the forge, Roan took up the mantle of village blacksmith. For a few years, he supported his father and himself with his work, and even managed to repair all the damage that their house had been subjected to. Alas, fate had more in store for Roan, however, as one day his father decided to leave as well. Suddenly, one day while he and his father were eating dinner in silence, as they always did after the disappearance, his father pushed his chair back, stood up and walked out the door, never to be seen again.
For several days after, Roan functioned almost mechanically, waking up in the morning and going to work before returning home. He made dinner for himself, ate it in silence and went to sleep. Rinse and repeat. Finally, one day he too realized that he had nothing tying him to the village anymore. His family was gone and the blacksmith position could be easily replaced by someone from the capital.
He boarded up the house and the smithy, bundled up a set of clothing, collected the last bits of gold he had and one of the swords he had made and took off as well. He wandered around, traveled to multiple towns, cities and villages within the borders of Estival, and eventually he found himself passing through the gates of the country's capital. He made his way to the Adventurer Guild's building and joined up. The rest is history...
ＥＱＵＩＰＭＥＮＴ ＆ ＳＫＩＬＬＳ
In battle, Roan is used to being lightly-armored, just enough to have the basic protection needed in order to adventure. Below his hooded cloak and clothing he wears a stiff chain-mail vest that has protects his vital points. His sword, made of good quality steel, is one he had made himself years ago and had yet to fail him. Of course, he takes good care of it and thus it's still razor sharp despite its age.
Roan is a Rank 5 Sword adventurer. He has been a part of the Guild for over 8 years and has built up some decent reputation as a quality swordsman. Although having received the basic training the Guild provides to all new adventurers, he's realistically all but learned his swordsmanship through the battles he's faced as an adventurer, slowly growing into the man he is today. He is agile and quick on his feet, able to jump from enemy to enemy with relative ease, while his years of training as a smith has built up a body full of strength, giving him the ability to explode with power whenever he needs to overcome a difficult opponent. His style of swordsmanship is one of relative unpredictability as he's always on the look to exploit a moment of weakness in his enemy's defense in order to finish the battle as fast as possible.
Aside from his fighting abilities, he's an actual quality blacksmith by trade, despite not really practicing the profession all that much in the last few years. His eyes still retain the keenness of one who knows his way around metal, and thus he can identify if a weapon or armor is of good quality from just looking at them for a few moments.
He is also a very bad gambler, but I don't know if this counts a skill or not... he certainly impresses those that run those gambling dens he frequents, he's basically a walking money bag for them, the gift that keeps on giving!
The Southern Jungle of Kalgrun was quiet, save for the occasional sound of one of the Gemstone Gardeners - the same creatures Kalmar used for the feathers on his arrows. It was they who had planted this forest, and little else existed here. The climate was too hot for the species elsewhere on the continent; the vegetation too thick and unfamiliar. A change was long overdue, and looking down from above, Kalmar couldn’t think of a better place to teach Melantha how to create.
“Alright, just think about what you want to create - what it looks like, how it will function, what purpose it will serve, and then will it into existence,” he reminded her. For days and weeks he had taught her the basics of her abilities, and now it was time to move on to something more complex. “What it will eat, what it will drink, when and where it will sleep… You can do this.”
Melantha looked at Kalmar, then back at her hands and then to the forest below her that expanded in all directions. They had traveled across Kalgrun, Kalmar showing everything that his little creation had to offer. Melantha chuckled every time he made a stop to showcase to her a creation he was especially proud of, like the direwolf packs roaming the grasslands of mainland Kalgrun or the griffins that made the skies of the continent their domain. However, she had to give credit where it was due; Kalmar had managed to create several balanced species that managed to survive and thrive among the high variety of other fauna that existed alongside them.
Indeed, it would not be a stretch to say that Kalgrun was infested with beasts capable of rivaling a direwolf or a griffin in a fight. From giant trolls to ferocious lizards and savage bears among other dangerous beasts, Kalgrun was filled with all kinds of nastiness. Thus one could imagine her surprise when they had visited the southern part of the continent and the jungle forest that mostly covered it. It’s inhabitants consisted of only one single notable species which in and of itself consisted of about four other subspecies, parrots he had dubbed them. From what Kalmar had told her, they basically built the jungle from the ground up with their strange abilities.
They protected the forest and nourished it with their strange, magical auras. So Melantha could not help but wonder why such a rich environment was not more densely populated by a larger variety of animals. Of course, there were the insects and small animals, but Kalmar had spread those across the whole continent so finding them in this jungle was not something unexpected. What was unexpected was the absence of larger animals. Animals that could take advantage of the terrain and thrive, just like how Kalmars other creations had.
Melantha found herself deep in thought, ruminating Kalmars words to her about taking into account everything before creating her very own first species. All that time they had spent together, Kalmar teaching her about the basics of her abilities and then delving deeper into what it meant to be a god would be tested with this creation of hers. In some sense, this was her initiation into godhood.
“I am thinking… about a creature that would take advantage of the jungle terrain. Use it to camouflage itself as it sneaked behind its victim, ready to pounce on a moments notice. Kind of like those felines you showed me some time ago, that used the grass to their advantage in order to get closer to their prey.”
Melantha flew down, past the canopy and into the jungle, coming to settle upon a tree branch. Kalmar followed her, hovering in the air nearby, watching with some level of interest what she would do next.
“What better way to bring the environment to your aid than being able to blend among the leaves, bushes, and trees, watching your prey from above and waiting for the right time to swoop in for a successful hunt. A flying creature would be ideal for this.”
Kalmar nodded, with a small approving smile. “A common tactic among flying creatures. Good choice.” Melantha smiled at Kalmar’s words and got back to thinking. “Hmm, speaking of felines… If I could modify it… The ears… Yes, the body would have to be lighter…”
Melantha devolved into incoherent mumbling at some point and only after a long while did she emerge from her thoughts, her eyes now clear, indicating she had come to a decision.
“I think I have it. Let’s see…” With that, Melantha closed her eyes and concentrated on the mental picture she had created in her mind. She thought about how she wanted her creation’s anatomy to work, building it from the ground up in her mind. Simultaneously, she held her hands in front of her and cupped them, feeling the now familiar godly power emerge and flow, pooling between her palms. There slowly, she felt her first creation take form. From bones to organs, to flesh, skin, and fur. The whole creation bit took a little while to finish, and by the end of it, Melantha found herself relatively tired, mostly mentally. Nevertheless, she sighed, her face donning a smile of content. Two faint mewls emerged from within her clasped hands, prompting Melantha’s smile to widen even more.
As she slowly opened her hands, two little furry heads emerged from within, immediately scanning their surroundings before locking in on Melantha, upon which they started mewling even louder than before and started clumsily crawling along her arms, one on each. Melantha turned to Kalmar, evidently excited about her new creation. “What do you think?”
Kalmar studied them closely. “A good start. Sharp teeth, wings, good senses I assume. Well done.”
“Thanks, It was actually easier than I thought it would be. Must have been because I based them on your feline design before making my own changes to fit this environment.” She turned to look at the one that had managed to crawl up to her shoulder and found it starting at her straight in the eyes before letting out another barrage of mewling that devolved into a kind of faint vibrating sound as it started rubbing its face on her cheek. The other one seemed to be a little more clumsy as it took longer to reach her shoulder, but eventually, it also nestled next to Melantha’s face and, almost copying the first one, started sniffing Melantha’s face instead of rubbing on it. That one seemed to be the more curious of the two, and perhaps the more cautious.
Even Kalmar was moved by the sight. He blinked, visibly taken aback, as he felt a strange, unfamiliar tug at his heartstrings.
“I can’t just leave them as they are though… They are essentially defenseless, brought in a world unknown to them and clinging to the first person they laid their eyes upon.” Images of Melantha’s first waking moments flashed through her mind once again, and she immediately identified with her two new creations. “No, definitely not,” she said out loud, talking to herself. “I have to stay and protect them, prepare them for the world… But not like this...”
A few silent seconds passed, but the proverbial gears inside Melantha’s mind were nothing but silent. They turned and turned until, eventually, a solution dawned upon her. She then turned with a sudden clarity in her eyes to look at Kalmar. She gently picked the two newborn creatures by their necks and handed them to Kalmar. “Hold them for a moment.”
Kalmar took the two creatures in either hand. One began to protest immediately, looking back at Melantha, while the other fixed its eyes on him, simply staring. Kalmar met its gaze, and, unsure of how to respond, simply nodded at the small winged kitten.
With that, Melantha flew off the branch she had been sitting on for a while now and hovered a few feet away from Kalmar. She then took a deep breath in, before closing her eyes and focusing once again on the godly power inside of her. This time, however, what she was attempting was something completely different. Something she had honestly never tried before and did not even know if she was capable of doing. She brought the image of the creatures in her mind once again, and this time focused her power onto herself. A faint sheen of darkness, unbeknownst to her, emerged from within her, covering her skin and clothes. Within this “cocoon” of shadows, Melantha’s form started to change dramatically. Big, bony growths started sprouting from her back, her arms merging with them and coming to a point where her hands used to be. From her armpits, thin leathery membranes grew outwards, connecting her arms with her torso to form a pair of wings. Her clothes sank into her body as she started bloating, and soft, black fur started growing from her skin, eventually coming to cover her whole body from top to bottom. Her legs shortened and her feet transformed into a talon-like shape, with strong, sharp claws at their tips. A strange pattern formed along the sides of her legs, coming to an end at the middle finger of each talon.
She grew a long appendage from her back that resembled the ones that her two creations had, and her face molded into one resembling that of a cat, albeit with a longer tongue and two larger and longer sets of ears. Her whiskers glowed a faint golden color, however, unlike the two newborns. Once the transformation had finished, the dark cocoon dissipated and a transformed Melantha emerged. Folded as they were, her new wings covered most of her new body and made her seem deceptively small. As she opened her eyes, however, she unfolded her wings as well, and what a sight it was.
Her wingspan easily measured fifty feet across, covering the canopy above and casting a large shadow below as she hovered there, a little dazed by the transformation. Eventually, she came to and looked down at Kalmar before speaking into his mind. “What do you think?” She could not help but let a hint of proudness leak into her message.
It took a moment for Kalmar to take in the change. “The wings will make flying easier, and your creations will think you are one of them. Though…” he hesitated for a moment, before looking down. “Visually, I preferred the way you looked in your old form. But there are merits to this one as well.”
“I do not intend to stay in this form for long. Just a few days, maybe a week. Until I feel confident they are ready to be left to roam in the wild on their own. Then…”
A strange emotion filled her as she thought about her next words, but she suppressed it before continuing. “Then I will be leaving.”
Kalmar nodded understandingly. “Letting your creations go when they are able to fend for themselves is an important step,” he acknowledged. “I will help you teach them how to survive if you want.”
“Of course, any help you can offer is going to be appreciated. Although I have learned from you… I can’t really say I am also confident in my teaching skills…”
“Teaching is what I do, I suppose,” Kalmar realized. “Let’s get started.”
Melantha let out a laugh telepathically at Kalmar’s joke. “Yes, let’s,” she said and flew closer to pick up the two from his hands. During all this time, they had remained silent, simply staring at her humongous form. However, once they found themselves snuggling inside her thick fur, the two immediately awakened from their little reverie and started mewling like crazy. Eventually, however, they fell asleep, tucked in there, safe.A few weeks later…
“They’ve grown fast,” Kalmar commented, looking down at the two Catats, each now three to four feet in height, as they feasted on a Gardener. Melantha had decided to leave the naming rights to Kalmar, as a compromise for helping her with their training.
“Haven’t they?” Melantha looked at them from above, a happy smile on her face. She had assumed her humanoid form now and was hovering next to Kalmar.
“I’ll admit, I had my doubts when I saw their size. But seeing how large they’ve grown, you’ve done a great job,” Kalmar told her.
“To be honest, I too did not expect them to grow to this size. Caught me off guard as well, but I can’t be more happy with how they ended up.” Melantha had been distancing herself from her two creations gradually since they had grown and acclimated to hunting on their own. However, the whole situation was not as hard as she thought it would be. As if programmed into their instincts, the moment she started distancing herself, they too began to do the same. At first, it would be a couple of hours, then a whole night, then two nights. Their little duo hunting trips would last longer the more they grew up, up until the present day. They had been gone from the “nest” for close to four days, with no sign of wanting to return. The whole thing raised a bittersweet feeling inside Melantha, but she knew this is how it should be and did not complain.
It seemed it was time for her to let them fly away.
Kalmar glanced over to her. She had assumed her old form, and he knew what that meant. As if reading her thoughts, he reached over to put a comforting hand on her shoulder.
Feeling his hand, she half-turned her head, glancing at him. She hesitated for a split second, but ever so slowly ended up putting her hand over his. At that moment Melantha realized that she, subconsciously, had forged a connection with Kalmar. All this time spent together, getting to know him as a god through his words and actions, and as a person through the thoughts and feelings he had shared with her that night at the cave, when he seemingly had poured his heart out to her about his problems with the other gods and with himself, made her understand that she wanted to know more about him, to know more about Kalmar the god, as well as Kalmar the person.
These feelings were, honestly, a first for Melantha. She knew she viewed him as an ally, even a friend by now. But these feelings… Melantha found herself unable to explain to herself what these feelings meant. Very quickly, she found herself slowly starting to become overwhelmed by these, very new to her, emotions.
Kalmar looked away and took a deep breath, as if steeling himself for something, before looking back. “I need to say…” he said at last. “I… greatly enjoyed spending this time with you. I…” his voice trailed off as if he was unsure how to continue. But then, mustering all the determination he could, picked it back up. “I’m not familiar with these feelings, and you know I’m not good with words, but I’ve started to care deeply about yo-Ithinkweshouldpartwaysforsometime!”
The sudden outburst stopped Kalmar's words dead in their tracks. The Hunter blinked, leaning backward an inch as if recoiling from a strike. His eyes widened, and his brows raised. “W-what?” he managed to utter, beneath the shock.
It’s a good thing that Kalmar said exactly what was in Melantha’s mind, cause right at that moment, her brain had frozen over in equal shock. She looked at him for a few seconds, her eyes never leaving his. Multitudes of emotions and several changes of facial expressions later, Melantha finally asked in a shaky voice. “I-Is that… What you said, true?”
“I…” the Hunter began, his voice adopting a nervousness that Melantha had never heard from him before. He took a deep breath to recover, and then, with a much calmer voice, spoke one word. “Yes.”
Melantha let out a sigh, lowering her head for a few moments to recollect her thoughts. “I… have been thinking about my place in this world. From the moment I woke up, you’ve been there, by my side, helping me, saving me even.” Kalmar raised his eyebrows, this time in anticipation rather than shock. “But lately I’ve been thinking that maybe, just like how I will be leaving these two,” she said and briefly looked at the two Catats below, now having had finished their meal and grooming themselves, before continuing. “Just how I will be leaving these two, I think it is time I also leave your side. I need to expand my horizons and see what the rest of the world has to offer. You said it yourself, I am a goddess. There are no limits to what I can do. I need to do this… alone.
Kalmar turned away, his gaze seemingly fixed on a tree. He had exposed himself, and left himself vulnerable, only to be struck in the process. It was not intentional, he knew, but it stung nonetheless. For a long time, there was a tense silence as the God of the Hunt worked through his emotions. He took another deep breath and turned back to face her, his expression once again calm and stoic “I unde-”
Kalmar’s voice was cut off as Melantha’s lips connected with his. She stayed like that for a long while, an instinct she did not know she had suddenly welling inside her and forcing her to move her body against her will once more. After a few seconds she pulled back, and now in a weaker, fainter voice, told him. “Y-you did not let me finish my sentence. I need to do this, alone, as I said. However, I have, too, also realized that my feelings for you seem to run deeper than a simple friendship… I think we are not ready for this just yet… I still intend to leave, but I will come back, and when I do, I will bring with me an answer.”
Once again, the shocked expression had returned, mingled with confusion. She had seemingly rejected him, and then went and did this? A gesture which he didn’t fully understand the purpose behind, but instinctively went along with anyway. Perhaps one of his fellow gods, who were better with words or empathy, might have understood what was happening, but this was completely alien to him.
Then she explained herself, and the Hunter sighed with relief. His hands instinctively sought out hers. “Then go. Do what you need to do. And when it’s done, we’ll meet again,” he said, offering that small smile of his.
Melantha looked at him in the eyes, returning the smile before slowly extracting herself. She gradually hovered up and away from him, towards the sky, and right before she broke through the jungle canopy she threw one last look at him. Then, Melantha turned around and took off, the brief light from the Lustrous Garden that had peeked through as she shot through the canopy quickly being blocked again by the thick branches and leaves of Kalgrun’s Southern Jungle.
Kalmar flew upward through the canopy as well but followed no further. He remained where he was, his eyes focused on her back as he watched her leave, growing ever smaller in the distance.
Only when she disappeared over the horizon, vanishing from sight, did the Hunter finally turn away.
Kalmar continued to teach Melantha the ways of godhood. After running her through most of the basics, he decides it is finally time to teach her to create life, so he takes her to Kalgrun’s southern jungle. There, he asks her to create a species, and she goes ahead and creates the Catats - a cross between a cat and a bat.
However, there are only two of them, and they are both too young to fend for themselves. Melantha decides to stay with them and teach them to survive on their own, with Kalmar agreeing to help. Melantha assumes a Catat form, presumably to help with the process.
A couple of weeks pass and the catats grow in both size and independence. Eventually, it is time for Melantha to leave them behind. She and Kalmar bond over it, and they both begin to realize that they have formed a connection with each other.
Just as Kalmar is in the process of confessing this attraction, Melantha blurts out they should part ways, explaining that she needs to experience the world on her own. Kalmar is hurt, but just as he is about to accept her decision, she proceeds to surprise him once again, with a kiss this time. Unable to understand the mixed signals, he is left dumbfounded, but Melantha quickly explains herself further, joking that he did not let her finish what she was going to say.
In the end, she tells him that the feelings are mutual, but that she still intends to have her little solo adventure. She promises him that she will be back and that she will have an answer for him at that time. Kalmar accepts her decision, much more relieved this time, and watches her as she flies away.
Melantha let out an audible sigh as she sat on the ground, her eyes aimlessly wandering about. The bow that Kalmar had left behind was leaning against a large, protruding rock, the quiver sitting atop it. Melantha did not really know why he had left her his bow and arrows, the explanation he had given her not really sitting well with her.
Even if you are stronger than both weapons' powers combined that does not mean you should discard them, especially when heading into a potentially dangerous situation... Melantha grumbled to herself as she absentmindedly dragged her finger on the ground, drawing random shapes on it. Whenever she didn't like something that she had drawn, she would just mess up the soil, covering it up and leaving her with a blank canvas to start again from scratch.
Nevertheless, one can only repeatedly do so much of something before they become bored with it. With a sigh, Melantha stood up and strolled around the cave while all the while looking for something to do. The cave was, for all intents and purposes, quite large. Hmm, I bet Shynir could fit in here if he could squeeze himself through that entrance, Melantha estimated. Thinking about the griffin, however, made her remember all those things Kalmar had told her before he had created it as a demonstration of his powers. About the deities of this world and how she was also one of them.
Remembering how she had failed in her attempt to fly and how Kalmar had, so casually, rushed over to catch her when he had realized she was not going to make it made Melantha understand exactly how weak she was without access to her supposed godly powers. Although he had acted all stern and serious, Melantha had seen and felt the disappointment in his eyes, how he had expected better from her.
She allowed herself a thin smile as she rubbed at her eyes with the palms of her hands, the realization that she had unknowingly put a lot of meaning behind how Kalmar viewed her striking her as quite odd considering it had only been a day or so since their meeting. The sound of water dripping into water entered her ears, however, breaking her off her brooding state.
Tugging the wolf cloak around her tightly, Melantha surveyed her location. Unbeknownst to her, she had wandered quite a way into the cave, absorbed as she was in her thoughts. The light from the entrance was nothing but an afterthought at that point, the darkness having claimed its place as the dominant presence inside the cavern.
Still, Melantha found herself able to traverse the cave’s dark interior chambers with relative ease. Her sight, previously somewhat hindered by the presence of the sun above, was now unfolding a whole new world to her, allowing her to have a crystal clear view of everything inside the cave.
Around her, everything was lined in a subdued film of water due to the moisture in the air making everything damp. Rows of stalactites, hanging from the ceilings like giant icicles made of stone and spikey stalagmites poking up from the floor took up much of the space inside the cave, however, making traveling to some places physically impossible. Melantha even came across a cave wall with some interesting carvings which, she assumed, were created by the water dripping down the side of the stone, eroding it with the passage of time and creating those patterns.
She traced her fingers over the patterns on the wall in some kind of childlike wonder, immersing herself in it for some time. Soon enough, however, she grew bored with it as well and moved on. Like this, Melantha explored the cave and everything inside it before deciding to return back to the entrance, where she and Kalmar had dropped the wolves off.
She stiffly stared at the wolf carcasses for a moment before passing by them, walking to the entrance of the cave. Seems like Heliopolis is almost gone, Melantha thought as she peeked outside. The sun had moved from its previous position of right in the middle of the sky, and she could feel the difference. The light coming from it was relatively subdued and, although still not able to stare straight at it, Melantha was no longer irritated by its presence.
She walked outside the cave and took a moment to stretch her limbs and take in some fresh air. Closing her eyes, Melantha inhaled a deep breath, holding it in for a few seconds before exhaling. She repeated this a couple of times before opening her eyes once more, a satisfied smile plastered across her face. Ahh, getting cooped up in caves is definitely not gonna cut it in the long run. I'll need a reliable way to shield myself from the sun...
Looking at the drifting clouds above, Melantha's thoughts went back to Kalmar. He's sure taking a long time. Hope nothing's wrong with the other god he's meeting...
Melantha explores the cave and has some thoughts about stuff. She then comes out of the cave and has some thoughts about stuff. No might spent.
The night sky shimmered with the flickering light of stars. The sound of the wind whispering through the trees, coupled with the occasional calling of nocturnal birds gave the coniferous forests of Kalgrun a peculiar but beautiful ambience that could very well be dubbed “nature’s singing voice”.
It was this gentle voice that slowly brought to wakefulness the unconscious form that had so suddenly appeared amidst the trees and bushes of the island in the middle of Hunter’s Eye. The being shifted and moved as it lay there on the cold and lumpy soil. Its long, black hair was damp and clinging to its body, which upon a closer inspection identified the being as female.
And then her eyelids, which until this time were drooping and leaden with sleep, suddenly snapped open, followed by a deep inhalation somewhat akin to a drowning person desperately clutching for air to breathe. Her eyes darted around from tree to bush to rock and back, never staying on one thing for more than a few seconds. She suddenly felt an intense urge to run away, but soon realized, to her dread, that her body would not obey her commands. Her muscles felt stiff and unresponsive, and her head pounded with the most unbearable of headaches. She moaned in pain as she forcefully willed her body to turn around from where she lay.
Now on her stomach, she slowly brought her arms forward, one at a time, and started dragging herself towards a closeby tree. Even with crawling as she was, she could not help but stop multiple times in order to catch her breath and recollect herself, the pain dangerously threatening to overwhelm her.
After what seemed an eternity to her, she managed to sit up by the tree, her back leaning on it for support. She had to look twice to make sure she didn’t carry two logs instead of arms, that’s how heavy they felt to her. The woman sat there, gasping for air, the only thing she could realistically do without feeling much pain. She looked around, taking in her surroundings. The forest canopy emerged as a towering beast above her, a beast with countless twisted and squiggly branches for arms and thick roots for feet. She stayed quiet for the most part as she tried to grasp the situation she had found herself in.
In the distance, a low, pained howl could be heard, drowning out all other sounds. It went on for quite some time, and when it stopped, the forest was completely silent. The woman’s head snapped towards the direction of the howl’s origin, while her heart started beating faster. The first thought that came to her mind was to get up and run away as far away as possible, but that would be unrealistic; she reckoned she could barely stand up as she was, much less run. But then the howl emerged in her mind once more, and the woman was subconsciously moved by its uniqueness. As if it was calling out to her, somewhere inside of her she could weirdly identify with the being that would let out such a sound, for both of them were wounded, both of them were in pain.
After a few moments of consideration, the woman gritted her teeth and, whilst clutching the tree behind her, slowly pushed herself up into a standing position. When she let go of the tree, she teetered dangerously but soon found her balance. With shaky steps, the woman started to slowly walk towards the direction the howl had come from.
The forest began to thin as she neared the destination until finally, she stepped out of it completely. In front of her was a beach, and at the far end of that beach lay a beast hundreds of times her size. It was a massive wolf, with dark fur. Slowly, it lifted its head and turned toward her. One of its eyes was missing, the surrounding flesh was torn and scratched, blood dripping from the empty socket. The wolf tried to growl, but instead, the growl turned into a high pitched whine, and it set its head back down.
It wouldn’t be an understatement to say that she would be abjectly terrified by the sheer size of the thing if it wasn’t for the fact that its current appearance was equally as pitiful as it was intimidating. What could possibly injure such a beast? The woman audibly gulped before she hesitantly started walking towards the giant wolf.
The wolf’s remaining eye watched her every step with wariness, and the beast let out another whine, but it did not move an inch. Perhaps it recognized that she was not a threat, or perhaps there was simply no fight left in it.
It was only when she’d finally reached the wolf’s location that she was able to really gauge its size. It was, well, huge. From afar when she first saw it, it did look large but not as large as it looked from up close. Its head was almost the size of a large boulder with how tall it was. The woman looked at the wolf’s uninjured eye for any signs of aggression but there were none. Feeling an inexplicable boost of confidence, she reached out and gave the beast a shaky pet on its head.
The wolf’s fur felt soft to the touch and the more she petted it, the more she felt like rubbing herself all over it. She slowly descended with her hands towards the front of the wolf’s head, petting behind its ears, or what parts she could realistically reach from where she was standing. She refrained from touching the injured parts of its face, the gruesome wound coupled with the beasts warning growl when her hands strayed a little too close for comfort sending a good enough message to her to stay away from that specific place.
The woman moved closer to the wolf, coming to kneel beside it. With one hand on top of its snout, she looked at its sole, uninjured eye. “Seems like you and me both have seen better days, haven’t we?”
“Have you?” a gruff voice interjected.
The suddenness of the voice nearly gave the woman a heart attack. She miraculously jumped up like a spring despite her body being exhausted as it was and scurried a few meters away forward before dropping back down, her tired body catching up with her racing heart. Turning her head around, she laid her eyes upon the origin of the unannounced voice.
Standing behind her was a blond-haired man with a thick moustache, dressed in animal pelts with a cloak of black fur. One hand gripped a bow, while the other was empty. He eyed her warily. “The Goddess of Darkness,” he observed.
“W-wha-who?” She subconsciously let out as she moved closer to the wolf, figuring that the size of the beast would be enough of a deterrent for the man to not approach her further.
“I’ve been meaning to speak with you,” the man said, his brow furrowing. “I am Kalmar. The God of The Hunt,” he introduced himself with a nod.
The woman processed his words in her brain for a few moments, repeating his name. “Kalamar, Kalar,Kalmar,” she muttered a few times as she memorized the name of the person in front of her. “Kalmar,” she said once again, with more confidence this time, yet still keeping a guarded stance.
“Okay,” she called out at him. “It would be best you didn’t come closer, Kalmar. This beast here is injured and deadly. I would suggest you slowly left this area and went back to where you came from, else who knows what might happen to you,” she told him after some thought.
Kalmar gave her an amused smirk. “Melantha, you’re more of a threat to me than he is. I’m the one who created him.” The smirk faded. “Why are you here?”
Now that was a shocking revelation. That man was the one responsible for the creation of this gigantic beast? She felt conflicted as her brain and her body told her two different things.
Her brain urged her to move away from the wolf, since if the man told the truth it could mean he could order it to attack her at any moment, yet at the same time her body did not want to leave its vicinity; she had practically hidden herself inside the wolf’s thick fur, with her head being the only thing revealing where she was. “Who is Melantha?” she asked him in the end. “I assure you I am not a threat to you or your little friend here if what you are saying about creating him is true after all…”
Kalmar frowned, his expression shifting to disapproval. “Is this an act? You are Melantha. We were all given an understanding of each other when we were first brought to this world. I know who you are, and you know who I am.”
“No, I don’t know who you or ‘we’ are. I woke up in this forest, alone and hurt. I heard this beast howling from afar and so I came here to see what was happening. I didn’t expect to find something like this, however…” She replied, her expression softening a little as she remembered the wolf’s wound and the pain it conveyed with its howls.
Kalmar’s frown deepened. “You woke up in the forest… where were you before that?” he asked curiously.
”Before? Before that I was… I was…” The woman tried to remember, but alas she could not. At that moment, the splitting headache from before that had by now abated came back with a vengeance. She moaned in pain and clutched her head with her hands, curling up into a ball and rolling out of the wolf’s fur. She writhed there as she lay on the ground, unable to make the headache stop.
One second and a few steps later, Kalmar was kneeling beside her, an expression of what seemed to be concern on his face. For a moment, he only watched, uncertain. Then, he removed his cloak and wrapped it around her.The bout of headache lasted for close to an hour in real time before alleviating, and it left the woman completely and utterly drained. She was from head to toe drenched in sweat, her breath shallow and ragged. Her eyes wandered around aimlessly as she tried to regain her senses. The first thing she felt as she stirred was something thick but soft covering her whole body. She slowly brought her arms out of the cover and over it and shifted to the right where she found herself face to face with a campfire. The dancing flames of the fire helped her focus, allowing her to sort her thoughts.
Kalmar was not far. He sat next to the fire as well, his bow resting on the ground next to him. In each hand he had a stick, and at the end of each stick was a fish. With a focused expression he held both over the fire, and the smell of cooked fish reached her nose. He looked over to her. “You’re awake,” he observed.
“Yes I am, and so are you,” she replied in a cutting manner. “Did you watch over me the whole time?” she asked, her eyes darting to the fish and back at him.
“Only most of it,” Kalmar shrugged. “I had to look away to make the fire, and to catch these,” he raised one of the sticks to indicate the fish. “I still need to talk to you.”
“Ugh,” the woman shifted back to lying on her back and looked at the stars in the night sky. “Talk, talk, talk… what is the point of talking? I can’t remember anything before my awakening in this place,” she said with a sad tone on her voice. “And you saw what happened when I tried to recall something. There’s no way I am doing more of that anytime soon…”
Kalmar was silent. Wordlessly, he pulled the sticks away from the fire, stood up and walked over to her, offering one of them. She grabbed it wearily and muttered thanks before sinking her teeth into the fish. Then, the Hunter spoke. “So you remember nothing? What if, instead of remembering, I told you?” he asked.
“Told me?” She questioned between bites. “And how do I know that what you say to me aren’t lies?”
”You don’t,” came the blunt response. The woman stopped and turned her head towards him, looking at him straight in the eyes. After a few moments, she sighed and turned back to eating. “I guess I don’t have much to lose by hearing you out. I want to learn what is going on as much as you do…”
“Before we came here, this land was just water,” Kalmar began, taking a bite out of his own fish. “Then the Architect brought us here, pulling in countless souls from elsewhere. For some reason, some of us stood out from the others, so he made us into gods. He gave us the ability to create and alter the world, and we did, but we each had a different name and a different purpose. Your name is Melantha, and you are the Goddess of Darkness.”
She listened as she ate, taking in the new information. The Architect? Souls? Gods? She did not recall anything of that sort. “So you say my name is Melantha?” She asked absentmindedly as she repeated the name in her mind just as she did with Kalmars. “Melantha, Melantha, Melantha… I like how it rolls off the tongue.” Melantha thought to herself with a small smile. She finished the last of the fish and threw the bones and stick into the fire before swallowing. “What is a god?”
“It is a good name,” Kalmar acknowledged, before deciding to address her more important question. “A god is a being that can shape the land and create life. This land that we are on now, I raised from the sea. And as I said, that wolf, Fenris,” he gestured to the massive form of the wolf, which was now fast asleep, “is also my creation. I made other things as well. You probably made things too, before you lost your memory, but I don’t know what.”
“Yeah no. I doubt I can raise land out of nothing like you claim you can,” Melantha said dismissively. She then turned her head towards the sleeping form of the wolf and looked at it for a few moments before turning back. “Show me,” she told him.
Kalmar frowned. “I won’t be raising another continent, if that’s what you’re expecting,” he said. “We have enough land already, and the last time took a lot out of me. But I can make something…” and with those words, he turned his back and stepped away from the fire. Closing his eyes, he concentrated.
The creature that materialized before him was similar one he had made before. It was half lion, half bird, and more than twice his size, but where the feathers would have normally been brown they were instead a shiny black. Perhaps that alone might have been enough to impress her, but he did not stop there. The creature began to grow, and grow, and grow until it was roughly half the size of the wolf.
Then, it stopped, and Kalmar opened his eyes. The giant griffin looked around, expanded its wings, and let out a screech that jolted Fenris awake. The wolf immediately rose and began growling at the strange creature, but Kalmar raised a hand. ”Down!” he ordered, and Fenris obediently laid back down.
If even the wolf was surprised by the appearance of the strange half-lion, half-bird beast, imagine Melantha’s surprise to see something so extraordinary happen right in front of her eyes. She never in a million years expected to be proven wrong in her assumption that Kalmar had been faking it all. And to top it all, the wolf’s obeisance to him, it staying down when ordered, also gave validity to what he said earlier about having created the beast.
Melantha was shooketh. She laid back down, trying to make sense of everything that she had experienced up until this point. From waking up alone inside a strange forest, having forgotten everything before that, to finding a giant injured wolf lying by the side of a lake, to meeting a strange man that claimed both he and her were superpowered beings with reality manipulating powers and finally finding out that all this was seemingly the truth and not some joke was a lot to take in.
She eventually stood up, fur cover and all, and walked towards Kalmar and the strange beast he had created. “What is it? Can I pet it?” She asked him curiously.
“A griffin,” Kalmar answered with a smile. “I’ve made them before, but not this big. It needs a name...” the Hunter stroked his chin, thinking.
Melantha tentatively put her hand on the griffin’s feathered neck and slowly petted the lion-bird. She found herself especially drawn into its dark feathers and how they would shine when reflecting the light from the stars in the night sky. “What about… Shynir?” Melantha suggested.
“It works,” Kalmar agreed. “Shynir it is…” And then his feet lifted off the ground, and he was floating. He reached out a hand to Melantha, clearly expecting her to grab on.
“What? You can’t expect me to get on that thing now, can you?” She told him with an incredulous look on her face. “No, I’m fine just looking at it, thank you very much.”
Kalmar frowned. “I could just leave without you,” he suggested with a shrug.
“And you would leave your wolf over there all alone and wounded? That doesn’t seem like something a responsible owner would do…” Melantha replied.
“Fenris is far stronger than he looks,” Kalmar countered. “He will be back to health soon enough.”
“Ugh, fine…” Melantha conceded in the end. Kalmar was seemingly intent on getting her to ride the griffin and she was running out of excuses to prevent it from happening. She reluctantly grabbed Kalmar’s hand and was immediately floated up and towards him. “Whoa,” she exclaimed as she saw the ground distancing itself from where she was.
“You have the power to do this yourself. I will show you later,” Kalmar informed her as they rose higher. He set her down on the griffin’s back and then sat down in front of her. “Hold on,” he advised.
“Hold on from where? This thing doesn’t exactly have much to hold on to” she complained as she got herself comfortable atop the griffin.
“To me,” he advised, with a slight shake of his head. “Alright,” Melantha said and put her hands on either side of Kalmar’s waist. “I’m ready,” she informed him.
Kalmar coughed. “Alright,” he said after a moment, trying to remember the griffin’s name. “Shynir, we head west!”
The griffin let out another screech, and with a flap of its wings it took off, much to Melantha’s dismay.
Melantha awakens on the Hunter’s Eye, in deep pain and lacking any memories. She hears a wolf howl and decides to investigate it. She finds Fenris, lying prone on a beach and missing an eye. She decides to comfort him, proceeding to pet him all over.
Kalmar interrupts the petting session and begins questioning her. When she claims she doesn’t know who she is, he asks her to remember where she was before she woke up. She tries to find out it only gives her a horribly bad migraine.
While she recovers, Kalmar wraps his cloak around her, builds a fire, and cooks some fish. When they speak again, Kalmar suggests that instead of her trying to remember, he could simply tell her about the ways of the world.
It quickly becomes apparent that Melantha isn’t just unaware of her own identity. She is also unaware of her own ability and doesn’t even seem to grasp the concept of what a ‘god’ is. Kalmar tries to explain it, but she doesn’t believe him, so he creates a giant griffin in front of her.
Just as humans grow and change with time, interests change as well. I wish I had the urge to roleplay like I used to...
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;">Just as humans grow and change with time, interests change as well. I wish I had the urge to roleplay like I used to...</div>
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Savo
Kalas
Scrawl Banditta
JFK
Not a Sayan
ActRaiserTheReturned
Stanifly
Lord Zee
Rekkuza
