Roleplayer Guild - Roleplay Forum

Reliynia- Kingdom of Melchior, Capital city Meloss, outside of palace, in front of barracks/inside barracks/tree near the training field-

She heard everything Aerandir said, she didn't want to interupt him so she stayed silent while listening to him talk and answer her question. While he talked though she absentmindly touched her leg gashes and scars on her the skin of her legs. Memories flooded her mind, her grandparents whipping her, the clouded memory of her parents dying, surrounding flames, screams of agony and pain. EVen though she thought of all that had happened, she heard him talking in that soft voice. "Guess all purebreds have soft voices." she thought to herself. After a bit she heard him wish her a good night with a reminding of the orders for tomorrow morning. She noticed him bowing his head to someone new she turns her head to the right side of the tree and sees another elf, female this time walking up to the barracks. Nodding her head to the elf she moved her legs to the right side of her body, piveting her full frame from the knees up to the right she placed her hands on the ground in front of her and pushed up. Once standing she walked slowly to the door while brushing the leaves off of clothes. She had not realized she was tired. She placed her right hand on the door knob and pushed it open. She turned around now facing the door and seeing the female elf walk by, she shut the door and turned on the ball of right foot toward the bed. Not bothering to take any clothes off she sat on the bed fully dressed with swords still strapped to her back and sides.

Upon closing her eyes she saw a bright flash of red, orange, and white fire burning a house. She saw a blackened corpse crawling out of the building waving his hands at her. Being so young she felt herself get up off the grass in same manner as she did tonight and walk clumsily toward the corpse. She heard crying as though coming from a small child as sleep overtook her. She did not slump, fidget, or move an inch, she just stayed sitting up on the bed sleeping with her eyes closed.

Several hours past when she felt a sharp pain her legs, as her eyes opened both her hands flew immediately toward her legs. She started inspecting them at first then realized she was much older than six years. Letting out a deep sigh of relief she let her body slump a little on the bed before finally getting off the bed. She opened her door and looked around no-one was up yet or at least it looked that way. Turning from the door she checked the room, realizing the bed was now a tab bit messed up she left the door open and walked toward it her footsteps light and soundless. Straighten the bed and walked out the door closing it behind her without a glance.

Looking up at the sun she determined that it was at least 0500. While walking towards the training grounds she found a tree that was just begging her to sit underneath it. And she of course obliged the tree by sitting underneath it. The sun was shining it's radiant rays on her slender frame and long red hair that was still in a lose bun. She sat there waiting .underneath the tree for the others to show up, that's when she would leave the comfort of it's branches, trunk, leaves, and bark to actually be on the training field.

Deedlit- Empire of Haltia, Capital city Arcada, Palace, A bedroom

“Mistress Deedlit?”

The girl closed her eyes tightly, hoping the voice would go away leaving her to lie in the warmth and comfort of the huge bed. One chestnut coloured eye squeezed open to get a glimpse of the lady standing at the foot of the bed. The young girl groaned and pulled herself up in the bed to face the handmaiden, an old but loyal figure. A small hand roughly pulled back the mass of untidy golden hair, signifying to the aging lady to come and brush her hair. A gentle hand took a handful of hair while Deedlits slumped onto the bed, the maiden began softly combing her hair through. Deedlit closed her eyes, letting the softness and gentleness envelop her when the woman began to speak. She only spoke when big news echoed through the palace.

“The mistress’s baby is healthy. Damien his name is. And the mistress is healthy too; she just needs some rest she does.”

Deedlit’s eyes popped open and she jerked her head forward causing the handmaiden to gasp in surprise. “I must go see them at once to congratulate them!” Deedlit pulled back the covers on her bed, gracefully jumped out of the bed and marched for the door when the old lady grabbed her arm gasping, “Not in your undergarments you don’t!” With another groan, she let the estranged woman pull her back from the door.

Deedlit- Empire of Haltia, Capital city Arcada, Palace, A hallway

The young elf wondered the hallway, not certain where the King and Queen would be found. She had not been at the palace long enough to know her way around as well as the servants. Usually she could find a page boy to guide her, but today the servants were in short supply. She pressed on, her feet making little sound as she made her way through the hallways, her lips pursed and eyes narrowed as she tried to decide on where to go.

It hadn’t been long ago when Deedlit’s father had been requested at the border to help the military. Deedlit had been given permission to stay at the Palace while her father was away. She tried not to think about the old elf, but found her thoughts wondering to him on a daily basis, he was after all the only one that mattered in her life. Until recently, she did not fear for him being a seasoned warrier that he was, but when a scout came to the palace with news, well, she found out shortly after from the maids. Her father, the last of her family was missing – presumed dead after a brief fight on the border. Since that day, she had hardened and closed herself off. The joy that used to light her eyes and take hold of the way she presented herself was gone. Deedlit let the innocent, naive image fall away replacing it with another of firm resolve. She shook her head, clearing her thoughts and fighting back the imminent tears, Deedlit moved onwards with the new glint in her eyes.

A moment later, she turned the corner to see Aaron standing, staring at the door. She stood a moment, shocked and still before forcing herself forward to present herself with a small curtsey.

Wicker - Capital city Meloss, kingdom of Melchior, Palace, Throne room ~

Wicker stood on the balcony rehearsing what he would say to the king. He thought it would be best to start with a bow, to show respect, then move on to apologise,
"Your Majesty," He mumbled under his breath, "Many apologies for keeping you waiting. I was forced to travel far on foot after my mount died. No, no, don't say died. ... after my mount became unavailable. Much better. I travelled on and for the last stretch of my journey, I ran as if a dragon nipped at my very heels! I have made it, M'lord. I am your humble servant, Baril Wickson." He nodded and smiled to himself. Surely the King would be understanding and all would be well.

"Baril Wickson..." A voiced from behind. Wicker turned. The King!
"Your Majes--" He began.
"Give this to your Capitan tomorrow morning at 0800 hours sharp!"
"Uh, many apolo-"
"DON’T BE LATE!"
"Y-yes, I was forced to travel-"
"Your room is at the barracks, you can find someone who would lead you to your Chambers. But most likely get the worst room because of your tardiness. I do not want this to continue…there are no excuses." And with that he was gone. So much for the big speech.

Walking to the barracks, the young Baril Wickson felt like he was a young boy again, caught stealing ale from the brewary and getting the scorning of a lifetime. He shuffled quietly with his tail between his legs past everyone in the courtyard, taking no one into account, and entered the barracks. A single guard pointed him in the direction of his quarters and it seemed the king was right; this indeed was the worst room. Damp, cold and with the entire barracks toilet facilities only a few, upwind steps outisde. He could maybe even fit through the hole in the wall, cut out going around. He sniffed the air and hacked a little,
"What... what is that smell?" he let out a long sigh, "This is what you get for keeping a King waiting. Could be worse. Stupid, stupid, stupid..." He slumped down onto the bed and put his head in his hands, feeling 2 inches tall.

He hadn't realised until he hit the bed how tired he was. Wicker removed the plate metal from around his chest, legs feet and arms, took off the ring mail chestpeice and the green silk tunic that covered it. He lay back on his bed and was in a deep slumber within minutes. Unless someone interruped his sleep, he would sleep soundly until 0710 hours the next morning.

Reliynia- Kingdom of Melchior, captial city Meloss, outside of place, training yard-

After about an hour and 30 minutes of sitting underneath the tree, Reliynia finally looked down at her clothes and decided it was time to change. Not wanting to walk back to the barracks she looked for a place where she could change and no-one could possibly see her unless they were face to face. After looking for bit she found the perfect place a little building not to far away with a side wall that was partially enclosed and facing the building. She walked over to the building and looked around. The building appeared to be the place were tools for keeping the lawn were stored. Quickly pulling out a bag she dumped out her armor. The armor didn't look worn and in fact it looked new even as she unceremoniously dumped it on the ground. The first to go on where her boots with rawhide on the inside for comfort. Then she put on full plate leggins again with rawhide all around to protect her skin from being pinched. After that she donned her full plate brest piece. Carefully folding her clothes she stuffed them into her bag and took out a plain helmet that matched her plain armor. She restrapped the white and black pommeled swords onto her back, and put the chaotic and blue pommeled swords back on both sides of her hips, wrapping the bags string about her leather belt and tucking her helmet under her left arm she walked back towards the tree waited for everyone else to arrive.

After waiting another hour (0730) Reliynia finally caved in to her curiousity and started walking around the training field. As she walked she looked around, at nothing in particular, a stick lying on the ground, grass growing in little spots here and there on the training field. Watched the birds fly to the field then to a tree. She kicked a stick and watched it fly just for the fun of doing it. Smiling to herself she thought, "I feel like a child again learning how to kick a stick.". Finally after a while she went and stood in the training field; after all it was almost time for the meeting.

Selena ~ Kingdom of Melchior, Capital City Meloss, training yard ~

The girl patted the older guard upon the back after an hour of working out together. " Thanks for the help tonight. I don't know what I would do without you guys when I am training. " She said spoke lightly with a smile gracing her lips.

" Any time you know that the lads and I enjoy our break time practicing with you." the guard replied when reaching out he patted her on the back. He picked up his discarded items from next to her items before continuing on with his route.

The girl watched the guard continue on his route once the break time was over. She turned to her sword taking it up from were it had been left beside the training field. Sword in hand she reenter the training yard to go through some slow thrusting, then blocking motions as if she was in a battle. Each move was filled with grace through each of her thrusts, and steps making it appear as a dance even though it was a hard work out.

The work out would last through the night into the early morning hours when she finally would take notice once more of the world around her. She noticed how low the moon was riding in the heavens a signaling that morning was coming. At the notice of the late hour did she leave the field quickly towards the barrack not noticing if there were others around. Entering the barracks to continue a path towards her room giving a nod to each person she passed along the route. Returning nods, and waves were seen as she entered into her room before the door was shut to give her some privacy.

The girl quickly washed up with the available water in her room, then changed into some clean clothing. She pulled on a grey skirt and red shirt to protect her skin from the rubbing of her armor. Picking up her chest plate did she pull it on to let it settle over the shirt before fastening on the plate that covered her from the waist down to mid thigh were the skirt ended. She sat down upon the bed to draw on one boot then the other before clamping on her leg guards that went up over the knees.

The hour of 0800 was nearing swiftly once the girl was finally dressed and ready to return to the field. She lowered her hand to pick up the scroll as a frown marked her face at the thought that had troubled her all night. The king had said to keep an eye on the captain, and see that he followed his orders, and this had plagued her all night making her work harder in training. Selena lifted the scroll hating this request from the king that she alone seemed to shoulder for it went against her nature to spy on people, her head shaking did she step out of her room to shut the door. Exiting the barracks with her steady steps not looking back at the place, but ahead at the point were the meeting was to take place.

She stepped again upon the training field, her eyes settling upon the girl already there awaiting for the arrival of others. Selena nodded in greeting in her direction as she took up a spot to await the rest of the group to appear.

Sarah~ Barracks
Apparently daydreaming came a bit too strongly for Sarah. Her soft blue eyes were not focused on anything, although a smile did trace her soft lips. She did not pay much attention to where she was going, other than she did not run into a wall. Her fingers slowly ran along the cool stone wall as she pictured her home. She remembered the warmth of the fire as a blazed underneath a pot of stew. The smell of the stew was so clear within her mind, it actually caused her stomach to growl. She had had nothing but traveling rations since she left home. She closed her eyes as she remembered all of this so clearly. This was until her fingers hit a knob along the wall that her fingers traced.
With a sigh, she slowly pushed open the door that had so rudely interrupted her daydream. She did not turn on a light, nor did it occur to her that there should have been a light on at her entrance. Her steps were actually silent, but that was a simple talent of her own. She blindly unlaced her leather boots, putting her bow very carefully down next to her boots. She did not truly undress, although she did relax her clothing by undoing her belt causing her tunic to loosen into an almost skirt fashion. Her belt found a resting place beside her bow, although within a comfortable distance. She was not completely without weapons, as she had one rater small dagger strapped about her wrist in a comfortable fashion.
Covering a yawn, she slowly moved to slide into the bed. She felt the course material of the mattress only dip with her weight. She barely stifled a groan, for she missed a good mattress. She did not yet realize the body that was beside her, that was until she turned. Her slender frame moved to slowly shift onto her side and felt the breath of someone in her face. Her eyes snapped open, adjusting to the lack of light. She could not make out everything but she could make out a man’s face quite clearly. Her eyes widened as she stumbled out of the bed as quickly as she could and a crash could be heard. She had tripped over a large amount of armor, which would surely leave a mark within the morning. From the breathing within the bed, she could assume the man was human, for he was too loud to be much else. ((Note: If you cannot guess, she has slipped into Wicker’s bed…))

Wicker - The Barracks

Snoozing heavily, Wicker had not felt the girl slip into his bed and he continued to sleep until the bed jerked and his armour clattered and crashed. Startled, he kicked out instinctively and shot upright to stand on the mattress,
"Wh-what?! Who goes there?!" He shouted, whipping his chestnut hair from his face. The bed sheet had become tangled in his feet now, so when he tried to take a step to balance himself he was sent sprawling to the floor, chin first.

A moment later, he was back to his feet, clutching his chin with his left hand and making for the hilt of his sword with the right.
He clutched the weapon and directed the blade towards the shape before him. Until now he hadn't been able to make out the intruder, but now his eyes had focused enough to see a shape before him.

So there he stood, half naked, chin bleeding, sword raised. Normally, Wicker would welcome a girl to his bed, but on this occasion he had been taken off-guard and was paniced and defensive.

"Who goes there? What are you doing??" He questioned Sarah.

__________________
"Morality is temporary, wisdom is permanent." -- Hunter S. Thompson

Sarah~ Barracks/To Practice fields~

Sarah was still scrambling to her feet, her leg actually beginning to throb from having hit the armor so harshly. She rubbed the back of her calf. Although his shouting did not take her off guard, the fall had. He had given her enough time to scramble well out of reach of his weapon. Her breathing a bit hitched and her fingers on the dagger kept in her wrist sheath. Her eyebrow rose before she spoke. Her voice was soft, quite obviously female and chances were good that he could detect a rather heavy elven accent. “Keep that sword pointed at me…and we will both have problems…”
Obviously her words were both meant as a threat and a promise. She did not move too far because she knew that her weapons were closer to him than anything. Her eyes watching the shinning off of his blade before she spoke once more. “Put your weapon down… I meant you no harm.” She did move to slowly grab her gear, not caring that she was about to leave the room barefoot. Turning to leave, although lighting a lantern as she moved toward the door. “You should take care of your chin…before you cause a bloody mess.”
She did not give him enough time to get to know her, although he would be able to tell she was petite in frame. She did not face him in the light, so he had no idea what her face looked like, simply the natural sway of both her hips and rather thick hair. She left him to his own devices to go find a room to sleep. She did finally find a room which was not occupied. It was about three doors down from the previous one. She finally slipped into bed, but she actually slip into the bed for the last remaining hours of sleep.
Unfortunately those few hours slipped by far too quickly. When she woke up, a groan left her lips at the thought of going back onto the field. She looked down to her calf, rolling up her legging to find a nice large welt had developed from the armor. Cursing under her breath, she moved to continue to get ready. Soon wondering out onto the fields at this point. Her thick honey hair was held back by simple ribbon to keep it out of the way. Her bow was slung half hazard over her right shoulder.

Aaron – Empire of Haltia, Capital City of Arcada, Palace, hallway out side of bedroom –

Aaron was about to walk to his office when Deedlit… The daughter of the missing Capitan walked up to him and presented herself with a small curtsey. Aaron blamed himself for her father’s disappearance; it was going to be his last campaign before Aaron released him from his duties as a Capitan with full honors. He meant to search his daughter out and apologize himself but he was always too busy.

Aaron bowed deeply to her and said softly, “Good evening M’lady Deedlit. May I ask how have you been since your father’s disappearance. " He would wait for her to answer fully then say. “I wish to apologize for sending your father to the boarder. If you could find it with in you to forgive me? I would feel more at peace of what had transpired.“ He would bow again, more so than any emperor would have done. His body was at a full 90-degree angle to her.

Aerandir – Kingdom of Melchior, Capital city Meloss, outside of Palace, barracks -

Aerandir’s room was sleeping deeply enough as well as far enough from the commotion during the night that he did not wake. Though he did not sleep well that night, He dreamed of wars, unlike the one that will be fought soon. This war was in his past… He knew the dream by heart for it was the only dream he had for the past fifty years. He saw it in a third person view, a castle was in flames, and Orc’s were fighting the occupants inside and were winning. Suddenly a small group was running on the walls towards a tower. A roar could be heard and a black dragon fell from the black mist above the castle at the small group. “NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” Aerandir bolted awake and grabbed his dagger in one fluent movement he threw it at the dragon. Which happened to be the door to his room. He looked around the room trying to remember where he was. He had a cold sweat and his entire body was shaking. His left arm burned horribly now and as he looked down at it he saw his horrible scar. The scar looked like it was just given to him moments ago because of the bleeding. But in reality it was about fifty years old.

Aerandir muttered a few words under his breath and the blood stopped pulsing out of the gash that started at his wrist, wrapped around his forearm twice before ending on his elbow. He got up slowly and walked over to the washing bowl and splashed his face and hair with his right hand before placing his left in and cleaning off the blood.

Once he was done he whipped his hands on a towel and his face as well. He then ran his hand through his hair a couple of times before walking over to the Armor rack and pulled his Elvin chain mail over his bare skin. He quickly pulled his dark green tunic over his armor, by the way it was made, it covered the mail perfectly. He then picked his belt up with his sword attached and cinched it around his waist. He then placed slipped his left hand into the golden gauntlet and tightened the straps on it. He decided not to place his leather gauntlet on his right hand and so he picked up his dark green cloak, draped it over his shoulders leaving the hood up.

He then walked to the front door and stopped as he saw the dagger he threw. He closed his eyes and sighed. He reached up and pulled it from the door with a sharp yank. He then slipped the dagger back into a sheath hidden under his cloak. Then he reached out and pushed the door open with his right hand’s palm. The rising sun greeted him not to kindly, making him close his eyes. When finally ready he closed the door behind him and walked towards the Training field. As he walked he saw the same woman he talked to last night and the girl he saw sparring with the night watch guard. He decided to let them know that he was the Capitan when the others would get here. Hopefully he would have at least eight men or women to command.

__________________

Kill count as a SeeD Cadet: 4

Wicker - The Barracks

Moments ago he had been in a deep slumber now Wicker had his weapon unsheathed in his own quarters, defending himself from what he thought was a murderer coming in to get him while he slept.

"Keep that sword pointed at me…and we will both have problems…" the intruder told him. A woman? His squinted his eyes to focus on her more definatley and lowered his sword slightly.
He went to speak to her before she interrupted, telling him she meant no harm so he backed off slightly. Before he could even reign his tounge to speak, she had left the room, but not before he could get a good look at her behind as she went. Nice hair, and a nice bum too. Also, she was roughly a foot shorter than him. He let out a short chuckle dispite the fact his heart still pounded in his chest.
"What the hell just happened??" He asked himself.

A few moments later, Wicker sat back onto the bed. Now he felt the singing chorus of pain emanating from his chin. He cupped it with his left hand and checked the blood flow. It would heal by itself, probably by tomorrow, but it would probably continue to bleed throughout the night unless he fixed a small bandage to it. So nothing to worry about. He took out a small bolt of cotton wool and taped it to his chin. It still hurt like hell, but he'd live.
His eyes caught sight of a pair of leather boots by his bedside, not of his own. He looked to the doorway the mystery girl had left by and chuckled again,
"Crazy broad."
He gave himself a few minutes to gather his thoughts, then drifted off to sleep again.

This time there was no interruption. He rose from his bed with about half an hour to go before he was set to meet the others.
His morning routine went as usual. He began by replacing his chestpeice and tunic, then fastened the silvery breastplate into place. Then he tied the plate thigh and shin guards onto their respective places, slotted his feet into his thick leather boots and finally, clipped his long green cloak into place.
The ice cold water he used to splash his face felt bitterly refreshing and washed away any lingering feelings of fatigue. He shook his head and ran a damp hand through his hair, then picked up his shield and sword and headed for the door to face the day. Along the way, he picked up the boots left by the girl from the night before.

Once he hit the training field Wicker took a deep breath and smiled to himself. "Not a bad day," he thought.
He picked off the makeshift bandage from the night before and checked if the bleeding had stopped. It had, so he flicked the old thing away and walked to the centre of the training field.

While he walked, the sun's rays caught his shield and made it shine brilliantly. A beautiful, medium-sized shield, pearl white in colour and adorned with thin blue markings, Wicker's family heirloom was flawless. No scratches, not even so much as a spot of faded paint. It was as light as a feather and looked like it had been made of coloured glass. Most definately of Elvish origin. Wicker had nicknamed it, "The Wall."
On his right hip, sitting patiently in it's beautiful white sheath was Wicker's shortsword, "The Barb." When drawn, the blade sang and shone in flawless silver. Perfectly balanced for Wicker's fighting style and made especially for him, The Barb was created by Hardy Wickson, expert blacksmith and Baril's uncle.
These two beautiful weapons betrayed Wicker's scruffy, slapdash appearance. All his other armour and cloathing appeared worn and dulled by time and the elements, but to take the lean human's physicality into account would reassure any critics; he looked like he could use them, no doubt about that.

In the training field, he could see three others. A man, elvish, taller than him. A blonde girl, and another too. An Elf, shorter than him. This girl was most definately the one from last night so he moved to her first.
He tossed her boots down at her feet and smiled at her,
"You forgot those." He said, examining her with his soft brown eyes, "I'd just like to say sorry about the way I acted. I was startled, it was dark. You could have been anyone, you see?"
He looked around the field. Something wasn't right. Four of them? "The others are running late," he thought absentmindedly. His mind had already wandered from the conversation he had just started with the girl. He snapped his mind back to focus on Sarah and stood with his hands on his hips, awaiting a reply.

__________________
"Morality is temporary, wisdom is permanent." -- Hunter S. Thompson