Location: Guest House Time: 1030am Mentions: Layla @Potter
In the brief moments before Layla spoke, Farim felt an all too familiar tinge of emotions almost seep from under the door. As if to warn him to "stay away", he could feel Layla's general discomfort at his arrival, but he paid it no mind. His family was...eccentric and sometimes outright cranky, but after a good meal even the fiercest of animals can enjoy a moment of peace......he hoped.
He took a brief moment to fetch Thara from his quarters, only a few steps down from the door he had been placed at, and gently propped the door open before leaning down to pick up the several wooden boxes that were packed with flavorful scents that would likely fill the room. He figured that a high-energy greeting would likely get him the meanest stink eye he'd seen, comparable to his father's, so he opted to speak in a mellow tone that was still filled with that selfsame jolly nature of his.
"Layla, my cousin. I hope you are doing well. I couldn't help but notice you were gone this morning and still hadn't left your room." He organized the food and gently shushed Thara as she began to make slight coo's and caw's at the delicious looking food that was surely for her. "Not that it's any of my business. It has been some time since I've talked with most of you, and I do miss you all. How have things been in the days coming here?" He slowly and gracefully unpacked the plates and cutlery that were provided in the boxes and laid the meal out before them.
For the appetizers, beef kebabs and a chickpea platter. The main course was split into two main dishes: Lamb chops for Layla and Chicken Curry for Farim. To round out the meal, Farim had gotten some Caramel Crisps he figured Layla would enjoy as well as some Coconut Bites for himself, although he had a feeling there would plenty of sharing going on. He did not mind it any, though.
"Well? What do you think? I've yet to try any of their food but the presentation is something else, at least."
Time: 2:20pm Location: Odds and Ends Interactions: Annya @princess, Ismael @Th3King0fChaos, and Bron @GingerBoi123 Equipment: Leather armor over smallclothes, tooth necklace, warm boots, winter cloak, halberd, and
One bedroll a mess kit a tinderbox a waterskin 1960 amas
Bardulf felt a slight tinge of pride and accomplishment seeing this little event of his come together. He would've been fine with any pairing honestly, but thinking on it Annya likely made the best call. Having a hunter with each group would prove to be effective, and Bron was clearly in his element here. As a huntsmen himself, however, he did have some experience with snowy winters and heavy forests. The German winters from his home were none the kind to him and his village. Even in snowfall he had to make the trip with his dad to hunt game and gather what could be found, for food was much more scarce in the winter time. This town seemed to have no such problem, however he still found it somewhat nostalgic if he would be able to bring back a big elk...maybe even some smaller game to give something back to this lovely neck of the woods.
Bardulf took a single coin from his pouch and flicked it into the air, letting it fall into his palm before turning it over on the back of his other hand, hiding the result. "Right...if it's heads, Annya and I get the East Path. Tails, we get North." Slowly, he lifted his hand and smile grew on his face as the symbol of the face of the king of the Light Elves minted onto the coin was what graced their eyes. He nods and puts the coin away, packing his other things in a swift motion and looking to the group. "Well then, let's head to the starting point together then!" He took a few broad steps towards the door, heading out in to the frigid winds that were complete opposite to the warmth of the shop. He made sure everyone was following before leading the group towards where he had marked earlier in the morning.
Tanithil Malaggar
Time: Afternoon Location: Outside Ironhold Interactions: Sivaros @GingerBoi123, Kaleb @FunnyGuy, and Amisra @Tae Equipment: Leather armor, and two backpacks.
Blanket 3 days of rations (roughly) First aid kit Change of clothes Waterskin Tinderbox 30 amas
Rolled up Tent 3 days of rations (roughly) Small dagger with purple hilt (gift she doesn’t know about) Waterskin Tinderbox 20 ft of rope
Tanithil spun around towards the Light Elf who had thrown around the term "we" so casually. "Hey woah woah woah there buck-o. 'We' did not forge any pact or agreement. All I said is that we plan to get the hell out of here." He pondered for a moment as he spoke. The addition of two more fighters, both of whom seem plenty capable to hold their own, would increase their chances if they got into an ambush. The human alone could probably punch well above his belt in terms of firepower. He let the shadows of his gauntlet recede onto his back, almost cloaking his clothes in a weird perception-defying magic that seemed to hide him from the back. He slung the pack of his front and thrusted it onto Amisra, making sure she held onto it before letting go.
"That being said. It would seem we all want to just simply leave the premises, and it makes perfect sense for us to travel together. Strength in numbers and all that. As for where the Princess is, I haven't the faintest clue. I hardly want to travel the land looking for her, so what I can promise is that we can maybe come along until it's best for the two of us to skedaddle." He looked at every one of them for a few moments before letting out a sigh, as if to signal he's finally relaxed some, despite the impending threat of being scorched standing about 15 feet to his right. His gaze fell onto Amisra, speaking in a much more calm and jovial demeanor.
"I mean...that's all assuming you're okay with that and don't want to go running off into the sunset to gods know where. Think you can quell the spirit of vengeance for sometime until we have an actual army to face off against the...actual army?"
Blanket 3 days of rations (roughly) First aid kit Change of clothes Waterskin Tinderbox 30 amas
Rolled up Tent 3 days of rations (roughly) Small dagger with purple hilt (gift she doesn’t know about) Waterskin Tinderbox 20 ft of rope
Tanithil felt a growing vein on the side of his brow. However, sensing the lest hostile energies between the two, he lowered his hand and straightened his posture. As he stood up he slung the bag draped over his front side towards Amisra. "You talk as if you can take on an entire army single-handed. You're good, sweetie but not that good. Now take your things so my back doesn't give out." He rolled his shoulder as the light elf spoke to them, almost confirming Tanithil's suspicions. He knew that woman fairly well despite his misgivings for her. She wouldn't be marching on something like Ironhold unless she had the means to rip it from the very mountain it rested in. He turned to Sivaros to address him, still wielding the darkness on his hand, yet not pointedly at him. "Don't look at me. My 'plan' is to get her and split like a log. I have no intentions of staying here with that crazy bitch running around wreaking havoc. Fuck the Dark Elf Army, fuck Zarra, and fuck this whole war to be honest."
He heard another voice trickle into his ear drums, along with a sudden rise in heat. He turned on his heel and saw what looked like a light elf, yet they wielded fire magic as a human would. Well fuck me. The summoning rumors are true and on top of that, one of the bastards is staring us right in the face. He stepped a few paces out from the other two to properly face the self-proclaimed human who was walking towards them. "Sorry to say you all have the wrong crowd. We aren't looking for any humans and we certainly aren't looking for any dark elf generals whom we wish to separate their heads from their bodies." He glares at Amisra before gesturing towards Kaleb with his shadow gauntlet. "Whatever business you have with them, count us out. They could all drop dead for all I care, save the few who have the sense to realize this war is stupid as hell. Now, can I help either of you with anything else or are we going to stand around flashing our bits and bobs until we're riddled with holes from dark magic and arrows?" He stood there, keeping a slight stance about him, but wanting to keep the two lesser-known men guessing what his next move could be. Truth be told, he hardly had an idea what his next move would be himself if things decided to flip upside down.
Location: Guest house/The Gossamer Time: Around 10am Mentions: Layla @Potter
Farim, having properly learned of Saiya's intentions and somewhat of her plans, decided to go on finally start to explore the capital of the Caesonian kingdom. He had read in the paper before leaving for the hall something about a place called 'The Gossamer'. Farim really enjoyed well made food, and he read they were holding a special event filled with the cuisine of his homeland. He felt it only necessary to see how others saw his nation's food, and how well they would emulate it. He made his way to a nearby stable-hand to have them ready a carriage to take him across the noble district. Luckily, the driver who had taken him into the city originally was also available for him today. He flashed a smile to the man and gave a slight bow in his direction before stepping into the small carriage.
It proved to be a smooth ride, and much less noisy considering it was just him riding. He took a moment to reflect on the previous night, and despite his best efforts, only saw fuzz and haze when he recalled anything beyond getting into the carriage with Saiya. He shook his head slightly, giving up the fruitless endeavor and turning his eyes to the sight of an elegant building he knew to be the very place he was looking for. The gold-lined architecture and marble pillars were all fine choices in his mind. His carriage came to a stop just before the front entrance, and Farim stepped out to take a look around. "Taslim, I'll be just a moment, no need to find a stable for her just yet." He turned and walked into the restaurant with a slow pace, taking those extra few moments to absorb and appreciate the atmosphere. It was hardly a few moments after walking in before he was addressed by a bubbly young woman.
"Why hello, sir! Welcome to the Gossamer, where every guest is treated like royalty~. Do you have a reservation with us today?" Her stance was proper, and her speech annunciated and polite. Her tone was pleasing to Farim's ears and he took a slight bow in her direction, as was his custom. "Why hello, miss. My name is Farim Hafiz, and I regrettably do not have a reservation with you all today. I had simply heard of your lovely 'Taste of Alidasht' special and wanted to see if I could bring some back with me to where I am staying while I visit."
The woman paused for a moment, a slight break in her positive character as she flipped through her book, as if to find the name 'Hafiz' by miracle. "Um, sir...I am very sorry but we don't usually do orders to be taken out. I....uhh.." She became slightly flustered, unable to think of a response in the moment before a slightly stern tone pierced the general hustle and bustle of the restaurant. "My my! If it isn't one of the lovely Shehzadi whose culture is the reason behind this whole event! I do say, it is an honor to even see you here interested in my chef's finest cuisines! Rachel! Do not worry about the logistics, let us take this fine man...you said your name was Farim?...Let us take Farim's order at once! I demand it for the best customer service I can provide!" The large man approached with a quick yet friendly demeanor and immediately stuck out his hand. Farim met his eagerness in kind with a firm handshake of his own as he locked eyes with the Caesonian man. "Simon's the name! I run things around this lovely establishment. Don't mind Rachel here. It's her first day and she is doing splendid! We normally don't do any kind of dining out however for someone of your nobility I can only do the best for you all today. Am I too assume you are bringing it back to another daughter of the Sultan? The Grand Vizier? Pardon my intrusiveness but I must make sure every customer is cared for with all of my power and precision!" Simon spoke loudly, yet kindly as he pulled a menu from nearby and handed it to Farim.
Farim was rather taken aback by the almost aggressive hospitality, and offered a gentle but quick nod to the man. "Please, you do me no disservice by offering me this kind gesture. I was not aware taking food out was not usually available, but I am humbled that you would allow me this kind favor. I shall pay a fine gratuity in kind for your generosity." He took a moment to look over the menu, reading quickly until he stumbled upon the 'Taste of Alidasht' section. He took a few moments to properly think and remember what exactly his cousin may like, and hoped that his memory would prove the best of him. "If I could....I would love to have some beef kebabs and the chickpea platter. I think Layla would appreciate those...and could I get...Chicken Curry and some Lamb Chops? Finally for desert....Some Caramel crisps and coconut bites...oh I love some coconut bites~." Farim spoke slow enough as he noticed his words being written down eagerly by Simon, wanting him to capture everything properly.
"Right away! My top chef's will have this ready in no time at all! As for the total..." Simon was quick to make sure payment was upfront, and Farim obliged. He paid double the price for the food, soliciting a wide-eyed reaction from Simon who dashed into the kitchen. "This order is NUMBER ONE PRIORITY!!" Farim's wait was not long, and after what felt like a dozen or so minutes Simon came rushing from behind the kitchen with small, yet sturdy wooden boxes, four total, brimming with smoke and wrapped in clothes to help hold the food and contain the heat within. Farim reached for the boxes but Simon insisted he carry them to his carriage. Farim reached behind his head with an almost embarrassed expression on his face as he scratched at his hair. "You are too kind, Simon. And you as well, Rachel. You make lovely conversation and will be an excellent host. I will be sure to recommend you all highly." Simon's eyes watered and it began to seem like the grown man could sob right then and there. As he packed the food into the carriage and bid farewell to the Alidasht noble he quickly turned and gave Rachel a rather enthusiastic hug. Many townsfolks could hear the words 'promotion' and 'head of house' being uttered over and over.
The carriage made another smooth ride back, the aroma from the food filled the cabin easily. Farim's stomach grumbled at the promise of warm and delicious appetizers and desserts to be had, yet he staved off the temptation to look at the food. He wanted to preserve it and let Layla have first choice after all. The driver came to a very smooth stop, as to not disturb the contents of the boxes, and jumped to the back to help Farim carry the boxes up to the guest house. "Thank you Taslim. You are a big help, as always." Taslim nodded in appreciation and the two men brought the boxes up to the door to Layla's room. Farim placed them down next to one another and reached into his pocket and grabbed a couple more gold coins. He placed them into Taslim's hand and smiled. "For the trouble." He chuckled softly at Taslim's enthusiastic nod and pep in his step as he made his way back outside for whomever would need his services next. Farim turned to the door and gave it three gentle knocks. "Layla, my cousin. I know you haven't left bed all day and I would like to bring you some food. May I come in?"
Time: Afternoon Location: Ironhold gates Interactions: Sivaros @GingerBoi123 and Amisra @Tae Equipment: Leather armor, and two backpacks.
Blanket 3 days of rations (roughly) First aid kit Change of clothes Waterskin Tinderbox
Rolled up Tent 3 days of rations (roughly) Small dagger with purple hilt (gift she doesn’t know about) Waterskin Tinderbox 20 ft of rope
Tanithil felt the cold wind rushing against his face as his wings continued to carry him over the city. Luckily with the cover of darkness, the natural sources of light from the city below barely illuminated him, if at all. A few scared children or sharp eyes is about all the attention he would garner. He scanned from above to see if he could possibly find Amisra, but with how high he was his vision proved to be insufficient. He only hoped he would make it to the gates before her. Calculations began wracking his mind as he thought about her travel time, how long she'd been running, if she'd take breaks, if he would be fortuitous enough to have someone stop her mid-sprint for a moment. Many factors to consider as he sped towards the gates. The light of day bled in through the hollowed-mountain face, and through its massive gates Tanithil could see the cloaked figure of Amisra running through the crowds, a dead sprint quickly becoming a more focused trot as she weaved around crowds of people making their way in and out of the city.
"At least she is trying to be discrete." He spoke softly against the whistling winds. He followed her as closely as he could without gaining attention, swooping below the top of the arch that was the main entrance. He waited until she made a break towards what he believed was the direction of the dark elf army. He gazed along the horizon and could not make out any obvious bodies at a glance, but still opted to begin his descent to stop her from going any closer. As he tucked his wings and let gravity and velocity control the major portions of his fall, he noticed another figure step deliberately in front of her. He groaned as he saw their attention was clearly on her, and she would likely cut him down where he stood if she felt it necessary. You better not... He thought to himself, as if to telepathically speak to her.
The distance between them closed rapidly, and he flipped his body so that his feet were facing the ground and his wings fanned out to slow his descent. He clapped his hands together and two dark-purple blobs of darkness formed around his legs and feet, bracing his lower body for the slight impact he would have upon reaching the ground. A hundred meters became 50, then 20, then 10, his feet hit the ground at an angle, sliding and kicking up a cloud of dust and dirt as he swung his body in between the two elves. One hand outstretched towards Amisra, the other forming a claw as his wings dissolved and crawled along his arm to form a shadowy gauntlet around his hand. His fingers became much more dangerous as the shadows crested to the tips of his digits and coming to a point, ready to strike at a moment's notice as Tanithil took notice of the situation. He would certainly look quite distinguished and likely threatening if not for the two large and bulky bags that were draped over his front and back.
"Nobody move or do anything crazy." His eyes stay locked onto the light elf, wanting to make sure he didn't make any suddenly hostile moves towards them. His mouth however, addressed his friend in a slightly aggravated tone. "Mind explaining to me what the hell you're on about? If you think you can do what I think you're trying to do, you're not only suicidal but you're nuts. Today is not the day to be the hero."
Tanithil is above all things, joyful. He sees the world as a dull and un-entertaining place, and that's because of how many boring snobs run things! He wants there to be freedom and happiness in his life. He does exactly what he wants, all other factors be damned! That being said, he does have a soft-spot for those that he deems to be "lights amidst a dark and slightly depressing world". His friends and some family are key examples of people he will care for. Those who are innocent of wrong-doings (to his knowledge) get a pass from him as well.
His own form of magic seems to juxtapose this belief, but he finds it to be a blessing rather than a contradiction. "If I can wield the darkness and have good in my heart, so can all you other bolt-heads" he would often say to those who brought it up. To Tanithil, life is about balance. You need some good and unfortunately some bad to make it all equal. The bad comes on its own, since the world is the way it is, but thats why he believes its up to the rest of civilization to come up with reasons and ways to notice and appreciate the good. Even if it means stealing some bread from a vendor to give to a beggar.
His only dark-sided trait is what comes when he feels like his own way of life is threatened or the way of life of those around him. He never stands for someone being repressed or held down simply for expressing who they are or what they want. Having literally given his own limb to defend it, he will happily do it again, or take some extra limbs if needed. That is the one area in his life he will play no games, explore no shortcuts, or take any work-arounds. It's the side of him he thinks he's inherited from his mother's side, and is the side of him he likes the least.
Occupation: None, he mainly looked after the house with his parents while studying magics to become one of the war casters for the Dark Elven Army.
Living Immediate Family Members: Mother and Father - Ayla and Arlen Malaggar Grandmother (though not to him anymore) - General Zarra Malaggar
Dead Immediate Family Members: Grandfather - Thallan Malaggar (killed by a drunk vagrant who broke into his home in the middle of the night).
Current Companions: Amisra Keyrel
Current and Past Lover(s): None, but he certainly has eyes for someone ;)
Tanithil Malaggar was a bit of a jokester. Always playing pranks and sneaking about, looking to cause slight mischief here and there, but also serve his own means in a way. He would often peddle stolen goods to those less fortunate or perhaps even give said goods away if his heart was feeling it. He wasn't a perfect soul, but he did his best. Where his father would admire his honesty and his mother would enjoy his clever use of stealth and cunning to get out of oh so many situations. If he wasn't causing havoc, he was likely watching a particular favorite of his practicing sword work from afar before approaching her and tempting her with skipping practices. Sometimes it would work, other times he'd be chased around by her father Taerel who wanted only the best for his precious daughter.
His own brand of "powers" came with his manipulation of shadow magic. A skill that he likely inherited from his grandmother, the Grand General Zarra Malaggar. From shrouding himself in plain sight, to teleporting away in a blink, to crafting little tools and weapons to use in a scrap, Tanithil didn't really shy away from danger. He was, after all, a trouble maker. And trouble often becomes much bigger than you would expect. This proved to be words he would learn the hard way as he read a note on his grandmother's desk instructing her to assassinate a batch of "light-elf enthusiasts". As he scanned the words and read "Keyrel family" and his gut sank. He blood felt like iron spikes in his form, forcing him to stay still for what felt like dozens of minutes. Each ticking second he knew he was wasting was only sealing a fate he simply did not want to happen. He and his family disagreed on many things, often silly things. But killing their own kind for expressing their will and opinions...no. He couldn't just sit by and slink in the shadows. He grabbed his trusty cloak and silent-padded shoes and ran like he never ran before.
The scene before him was horrific. He saw piles of bodies, people he had known, talked to. His grandmother...no...he couldn't call this monster his family anymore. General Zarra stood over his childhood friend, her wrists bound behind her as the final blow was poised to strike. He called out to her in that moment..."Gramma!" He said with a pause, her faltering for just a moment as she turned to look at who dare speak so casually to her. She seemed to soften slightly at the sight of her grandson walking idly across the room. None of the guards put up a fight as, this was another member of the general's family, they wouldn't dare raise a finger to him. That was until he reached her, arms stretched out to hug her. He spun wildly around and kicked at the woman's mid-section, drawing a flimsy blade to stand between her and Amisra. He scowled at the woman and shouted all kinds of insults, denouncing her and removing the title of "Gramma" from his vocabulary.
What he didn't show however, was his backhand, gracefully working shadow magics against the ropes that bound his friend, cutting the ropes just barely enough before he would make his next move. As much as he was full of surprises, so was General Zarra. In a similar candor she walked up to the boy, not an ounce of aggression in her stance. In the blink of an eye she swung her ring-blade down towards her grandson. The guards gasped, and Tanithil's eyes widened at the sudden hot rush of pain in his wrist as he turns and hugs his friend. A strong and sudden gust of black wind enveloped them both, hiding and changing their form to match as they were whisked through the cracks in the nearby window. Zarra stood as she looked at the small cut along her hand from the shadowy mists her grandson had made. "Potential...wasted..." was all that could be heard from the guards before being barked at to find the missing traitors.
A voice, one familiar and cherished, caught Amisra’s attention as she briefly glanced over to see her beloved friend and grandson to the monster in front of her, Tanithil. What was he doing here? Would he be loyal to his grandmother? Could she truly expect him to betray his own flesh and blood? She felt her heart sink as she realized that he would be insane to do so, but it seemed she was in for quite the surprise. She watched in shock as Tanithil kicked his grandmother and Amisra felt the ropes around her wrist loosen. She had to move quickly.
In the blink of an eye, she pulled her wrists free and grabbed the two shortswords from the guards that were holding her in place. In a moment, both those guards were on the ground dead beside her. She spun in time to watch Zarra attack her own grandson. Fearing losing another person tonight, she attempted to push herself off the ground to lunge at the woman as she screamed, “Get away from him, you bitch!” Unfortunately her actions caused her to take her eyes off of those around her and a loyal guard took a swipe at Amisra. She jerked back just in time to keep from being hit with a fatal blow, but not before the blade sliced down her face. She cried out more in shock than pain just before Tanithil grabbed her and they winnowed away.
Appearing in a small, shadowed alleyway not far from the house, Amisra found herself quickly looking at her friend. “You saved me…” She whispered to him as she felt her heart swell some. It was at this moment that she noticed two things. The vision in her left eye was becoming blurry from the trickle of blood streaming down her face. The other was Tanithil’s injury. “By the Goddess, Tanithil, your hand!” She gasped out before realizing she needed to take action quickly. Without much thought, Amisra removed her top, leaving her top half in her undergarments, before tearing her shirt into strips quickly. She needed to stop the bleeding and then they needed to move and get out of there. She didn’t wait for him to respond before she grabbed his arm and made a tourniquet with one of the strips. She then went on to wrap a strip around his wrist where a hand once was. “I’m so sorry Tanithil, but we need to keep moving. Will you be okay for a little longer?” She’d completely forgotten about her own injury, not even registering the pain yet.
He couldn't help but laugh in the face of this situation. He had practically thrown every bit of his life away the second he kicked the General in the stomach and yet she still found a way to take a little more from him. His senses were dulled in the moment, a sharp ringing sensation pulsing up his arm as he clenched his teeth. Beads of sweat formed at his brow and throughout his face as he felt the burning pain of his wrist constantly remind him of his grave wound. He looked up and saw his friend had taken a grave wound herself.
"Amisra...your eye...ow, fuck!" He shrilly spoke for a moment before gaining his composure. He had given them a way to escape immediate danger, but he had to secure their escape too. He looked around and thought out the best path, the streams of adrenaline starting to finally kick in as Amisra bandaged his arm. "Of course I can move. She took my hand, not my leg. Let's get the fuck out of here!" He reached for her with his dominant hand, sighing to himself for a moment before grasping onto her hand with his left hand and pulling her along towards his residence. It would be the last place the General would think to check. He quickly snuck into his room and past his parents, all too worried about his sudden departure and even more sudden arrival. From there he packed a small bag of necessities, barely managing to dodge his worried mother who began knocking at his door. "Mom can't you see I brought a girl home?! A little privacy pleaaaase!"
He knew that being honest would only get him in trouble and cause more grief, so whatever he could say just to get her away for the time being. "Amisra, we can't stay here. We have to leave. I hate the idea, but my ... that woman is a crazy and relentless assassin. We're lucky to even be alive so, for now, pack what you think you'll need here and lets...fucking....go." He threw together some outfits for himself and some looser clothes for her as he did not really 'know' what would fit her, but literally anything would do. He threw in some first aid supplies he always kept on hand and gave her the knapsack to carry. "With my magic we can slip by but its only a matter of time before they start sending the magic drakes out. They sniff through my magic so let's book it."
"Of course I can move. She took my hand, not my leg. Let's get the fuck out of here!" Amisra couldn’t contain her eye roll as he’d said it, but then seeing him reach for her with his missing hand caused her heart to ache. “I’ll be fine, you’re worse off than me. You’re losing a lot of blood, I wanted to make sure you weren’t going to pass out on me.” She said with a sigh as they took off towards his house. It was a smart move as they would need supplies before trying to escape the city.
She helped gather supplies, trading out her bloodsoaked clothes for some of his. They were a little big on her, but she easily ignored it. She jumped, however, as she heard the knock at his door. "Mom can't you see I brought a girl home?! A little privacy pleaaaase!" Tanithil got quite the look from Amisra as he said this, smirking at him with a shake of her head, before going back to the task at hand. "With my magic we can slip by but it's only a matter of time before they start sending the magic drakes out. They sniff through my magic so let's book it." He said as they were finishing up hastily packing and she found herself nodding. “We’ll keep magic use to a minimum until we get to the border. From there we need to try to not use it at all until we’re far enough away. It’ll be hard to identify where the drakes are once we cross that border, better to be safe.” She said, knowing that it would be mostly him using magic as her own wasn’t nearly as strong.
She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and for some reason the sight of her blood caused an image to flash in her mind of her sister being killed. She dropped the bag in her hand, causing a loud thud, which only drew the attention of Tanithil’s mother again. She could hear the woman’s voice from behind the door and her head whipped towards it as she realized the door handle was turning. “Oh, Tanithil!” She moaned out loudly, adding on to his bit from earlier as she made a few more thumping noises. There was a gasp and the door clicked shut again before hurried feet scurried away from the door. She quickly picked up the bag she dropped and turned to look at her friend. “Let’s go.” She said as she went to reach for his right hand this time, wincing as she realized once more it was gone. “Sorry…” She said before grabbing his other hand and slipping out the window with him.
He nodded while hearing her plan for their escape, simply accepting her daggers for eyes as he made his quips. He looked on as he saw the color and emotion drain from her face. She had experienced great loss, something Tanithil knew very little of. He was about to reach out to console her when the thud of the bag brought him back to reality. The door handle turning made him even more panicked as he started to cast a spell. “Shit Amisr-“ “Oh Tanithil!” His face turned a beet red as he looked up at her, then back to the door handle clicking back into place. “Clever.” He spoke with a smirk, noticing her missing his hand and sighing. “Never gonna drop that habit I see.” He made sure they had their things and slipped out the window.
He knew magic needed to be low, but he had a plan. He weaved a small cloak of shadows over themselves as they ran, shielding their presence and making them almost invisible to the untrained eye. In a slightly uncouth manner, he “aimed” his nub of a hand and coalesced small orbs of shadow, shooting them off in random directions before letting them explode into fog-like mist. It was one of his classic pranks to mess with townsfolk that served as a smokescreen and a distraction for the “magic sniffers” as he made sure to make his smoke extra potent. They ducked through alleyways and narrowly missed several patrols, sometimes ducking into a luckily vacant house or in one case, stumbling into a home with a small family preparing dinner. Neither one spoke a word as they did every possible maneuver to reach the country’s border. In the distance Tanithil could hear broadcast orbs going off with the familiar voice of Zarra. “My grandson Tanithil and the daughter of Taeral Keyrel have been deemed traitors to this country. If seen, bring them to me. Do not fall for his tricks, he must face judgment for what he’s done.” He rolled his eyes and turned to her as they made it the outskirts of the city proper, far far away from any action and finally spoke. “Where now?”
They weaved through the city, sticking to the shadows and utilizing Tanithil's magic when shadows were lacking or they felt it was too much of a risk not to. They startled a few residents of a house, but it didn't stop them as they diligently worked to make it out of the city and avoid being caught. Neither one spoke a word as they did every possible maneuver to reach the country’s border. A broadcast could be heard in the distance with the familiar voice of Zarra. “My grandson Tanithil and the daughter of Taeral Keyrel have been deemed traitors to this country. If seen, bring them to me. Do not fall for his tricks, he must face judgment for what he’s done.” What a load of bullshit, Amisra thought as Tanithil turned to her once they made it to the outskirts of the city proper. “Where now?” A question she had been pondering as they fled. Amisra scanned their surroundings momentarily while thinking, but then her eyes landed on his missing limb and she knew where they needed to go.
"Ironhold. They likely won't expect us to go there and the dwarves used to be more tolerant of dark elves, though I doubt that's much of the case now. We may even be able to find someone to help with…." She couldn't bring herself to say it, but gestured to his hand. Deep down, she blamed herself for his injury. If only she hadn't taken her eyes off him when he saved her. Perhaps she could have pulled him out of the way. Either way, what was done was done and they needed to keep moving. They needed to get somewhere they could settle for a moment in order to really assess their injuries and Ironhold seemed as good a choice as any.
Best Abilities: Tanithil's abilities mainly lay in his magical prowess. He has an array of standard tricks he will use to his advantage, including his: - Shadow Cloak - provides moderate to extreme levels of invisibility to himself and more if needed, but more people means more effort/strain - Shrouded Advance - shrouds himself and nearby allies in black mist that temporarily transforms them all into misty figures that quickly dash off in whatever direction he chooses. More people = more strain/more energy needed - Shadow Weapon - his most versatile tool, Tanithil creates a weapon of his imagination using the shadow forces around him. His particular favorite is to make a dagger that he throws and turns into a "grenade" that shoots out darts of shadow shrapnel in every direction.
His erebokinesis is his bread and butter when it comes to getting out of sticky situations. If it isn't a "named ability" that he loves to showboat, he can easily whip up some form of tangible object in order to slide his way out of trouble...if he can.
Time: 2:20 pm Location: Odds and Ends Interactions: Ismale @Th3King0fChaos, Annya @princess, Bron @GingerBoi123 Equipment: Leather armor over smallclothes, tooth necklace, warm boots, winter cloak, halberd, and
One bedroll a mess kit a tinderbox a waterskin 1915 amas
Bardulf wandered the shop, picking out his cloak and boots, having paid for them and began to practically pace the shop as he waited what felt like a half hour for any others to show. After the 6th time checking out the window, a slight sigh escaped his mouth and he gathered the attention of his friends that had made it to the shop."Okay you guys...it would seem it is indeed 'just us'. I think the others must be off doing their own fun things." He did his best to hide the slight anxiety in his voice. Was I too forward? I hope I didn't pick a bad day to do this. Do the others even wanna be here? All thoughts he shoved aside after a brief moment of doubt. It was their day off after all. They wouldn't be here if they didn't want to be, so Bardulf resolved himself and pulled out a small hand-made map.
"The idea for today is to split into two teams. I will lead one team on the Eastern path I've drawn here. Bron, if you wouldn't mind, you could lead a team on the Northern path here. Since there's four of us, that actually makes travelling quieter a lot easier. I went ahead and scouted out the area this morning..." He pauses as he's sure Annya would give him a tongue-lashing for doing something alone at the crack of dawn, and then would continue with his explanation. "...and tied a red-piece of rope onto a tree trunk here." He points to an arrow drawn at the apex of where the two "paths" meet on the topmost part of his map. He then moves his finger to the southernmost arrow. "We will start here and split up, it shouldn't take more than, say, 30 minutes to fully move along the path. The Eastern path takes slightly longer since we need to duck through some heavy trees partway through." He pauses for a moment, allowing for them to process the information he was giving and making sure that there wasn't any errant confusion before continuing.
"Finally....the more fun part. A competition! Between the two teams whoever brings back the biggest game has the 'losers' do their chores for the following week!" He let a smirk cross his lips, something he quite hardly, if ever, did. He looked to Annya for a brief moment of approval before "sealing the deal" with a clap of his hands. He rubbed them together to generate a small amount of heat between them. "The mid-way checkpoint just kind of serves as a way for us to make sure none of us are hurt, and the competition 'ends' when we come back to the starting point. I appreciate you all coming today, by the way. I've been meaning to be more social lately and this seems like a fun little thing to talk about over dinner." He smiles warmly, looking around to the group and nodding before finally concluding his little speech.
"Right...any questions? Objections? If not....I'll let Ismael and Annya decide who their 'hunter buddies' are." He says with a slightly awkward chuckle to follow.
Farim had left the entrance hall along with the others, but had taken note of Mayet’s words. He knew his cousin was rather hot-blooded but she wasn’t stupid. Her viewpoint held some truths and he knew that there was likely some weird conspiracy of sorts going on. However, as he was, he lacked the means, the power, or the motivation to look further into it, so long as his family was truly safe at the end of the day. He would still keep a sharp eye out for potential threats and dangers. He nodded towards Mayet and quietly excused himself back to the guest house for some preliminary discussions he felt needed to be had.
Farim made his way in a carriage, a silent ride with his father that was likely due to Hafiz’s own internal scheming and ruminations. With what seemed like a rather dull and uninteresting ride back, Farim stepped from the carriage and went into the main lobby of the guest house. The familiar doorway gave him a slight flashback to the way it was last night, only Saiya still in the fireplace wearing a beautiful gown that Farim couldn’t help but point out was much more revealing than she’d typically enjoy. He smirked at the memory, and looked around to see her, yet again, in the main lobby. She seemed to be in a slight hurry, walking briskly along and almost straight into him as he reached his hands out to grasp her arms.
”Woah, Saiya! Always in such a rush. Is everything okay?” He chuckled while speaking to her in a slightly teasing manner. He scanned her facial expression for a moment, not sensing anything weird outright but wanting to make sure she hadn’t been given a hard time while he was in the entrance hall. ”If you aren’t too busy, may we talk in private? I have some questions if I may.” He relinquished his slight grip on her, patting her sleeves for a moment and stepping back to give her some space.
Saiya had been so focused on heading out from the guest house, from the letter she held in her hands that she wished to send to Prince Auguste, that she hadn’t entirely noticed Farim until he grasped her. She blinked up at him for a moment, but then a soft smile crossed over her face. ”Everything is perfectly fine, my dearest Farim.” She said with a small nod, knowing here wasn’t the place to say anything more than that. She’d expected him wishing to speak eventually, she just wasn’t sure when it would happen. She glanced at the letter once before back up to him. ”Of course, I’m never too busy for you. Where would you wish to go to speak?”
He felt a slight smirk run across his face, and although he wouldn’t admit it, a faint rush of color to his cheeks. ”Dearest, huh? You flatter me so. But come, we have a good amount to discuss.” He gestured for her to follow him, leading her to the door of his quarters. His falcon, Thara, would squawk and caw at his arrival, followed by his shushing gesture as he locked the main door and moved to let the bird out of its cage. He let her rest on his wrist, her talons only just barely scratching along his skin as he rubbed the back of his finger against her feathers. ”It is okay, Thara. No need for hysterics…..Now, Saiya….what have you told who about last night?” He calmed the falcon down and turned his attention to her, giving her his full attention while still casually petting his pet bird.
The color in Farim's cheeks would have gone unnoticed by most, but to Saiya's perceptive eye she caught it. There was a brief moment of confusion as she was unsure why her words would have caused such a thing. She then realized that calling him 'dearest' could be interpreted in many different ways. A slight blush of her own crossed her cheeks before she followed him to his private chambers.
She gave Thara a calm smile, doing her best to help calm the bird, as she patiently waited for Farim to calm her. Once he had turned his attention to her, she opened her mouth to speak. "I have told the Sultan the most and I have told him only the truth. The others had received an invitation, I was told about it and opted to wait for you, then I brought you there. After that everything gets fuzzy. I know I didn't have a drink, yet somehow I still don't remember much. It is odd. I also told Hafiz that I don't remember anything." She explained to him with a small shrug, but it was obvious that she was concerned about not remembering things.
Farim nodded at her explanation, still using the back of his hand to brush Thara’s feathers as he listened to her experience. ”I am unsure if I partook in drinks, but knowing me I likely did. So it’s interesting that we ended up with the same result…” Farim pondered a moment before setting Thara onto his bed. ”Then if I am asked, I shall share the truth, since it seems no one will have your head for it. I have no idea what he plans to do, but be careful and if you sense danger, please let me know.” He gets up from his bed, likely followed by a slight coo from his bird as he walks over to Saiya to embrace her for a moment. His hand patted her shoulder before he stood back and spoke again, slightly more upbeat. ”I do not wish to take up too much of your time. You seemed busy after all, but I will still leave you a seat at the Gossamer for a while should you decide to join me for brunch there.” He moved to open the door, waiting to see if she had much more to say before throwing the door open.
”Oh I’m sure he has nothing good planned, but as always I shall always let you know if I hear anything or sense anything.” She said as she embraced him back before turning towards the door. She tapped the letter on her hand for a moment as she grinned at Farim. ”Perhaps I will join you in a bit, for now, though, I must see a prince about a date.” She said with a small giggle as she waved the letter around before heading out the door and heading towards the castle to find someone to deliver said letter to Prince Auguste.
Farim nodded, a smirk on his face as he opened the door and spoke softly. ”Then don’t keep the lover boy waiting. I will see you soon enough…Go! Have fun!” He would watch her leave his quarters and question himself for a moment. Why are you reading so much into it, Farim? Surely you aren’t jealous. You are above such notions. Yet why does it feel weird when she mentions….forget it. I will drive myself crazy thinking about it.
He turned to see a nearby servant coming from another direction. He ushered them in and politely asked them to simply check on Thara every once in a while until he returned, placing a small token of his gratitude in their palm in the form of two gold coins. ”I don’t want to alarm folks with Thara but I do not wish to keep her locked up all day. Could you watch over her today until I am back? Just for a few hours while I grab some food.” . He respected the people that diligently waited on their every need and want, and only wished to provide some level of courtesy to a rather thankless job.
The servant meekly nodded before peaking into the room to see Thara peacefully sitting on the bed, not a worry in sight. He quickly took the coins into his pocket and bowed to Farim, causing a slight bit of embarrassment to wash over the man as he assured him that the pleasantries weren’t necessary. Farim gave a slight bow of his own before asking the man if he had seen Munir or Layla. The servant nodded and mentioned neither had left their room this morning, save for a brief outburst for Layla. Farim figured Munir would be out cold knowing his cousins 'party hard' lifestyle. But, Farim nodded and took note as he thought to himself. Perhaps Layla could use some…friendly company for a change today. He thought as he made his way out the door and towards an available carriage. He beckoned a nearby driver over and asked to be taken to the Gossamer, ready to finally have his first meal of the day.
Tanithil is above all things, joyful. He sees the world as a dull and un-entertaining place, and that's because of how many boring snobs run things! He wants there to be freedom and happiness in his life. He does exactly what he wants, all other factors be damned! That being said, he does have a soft-spot for those that he deems to be "lights amidst a dark and slightly depressing world". His friends and some family are key examples of people he will care for. Those who are innocent of wrong-doings (to his knowledge) get a pass from him as well.
His own form of magic seems to juxtapose this belief, but he finds it to be a blessing rather than a contradiction. "If I can wield the darkness and have good in my heart, so can all you other bolt-heads" he would often say to those who brought it up. To Tanithil, life is about balance. You need some good and unfortunately some bad to make it all equal. The bad comes on its own, since the world is the way it is, but thats why he believes its up to the rest of civilization to come up with reasons and ways to notice and appreciate the good. Even if it means stealing some bread from a vendor to give to a beggar.
His only dark-sided trait is what comes when he feels like his own way of life is threatened or the way of life of those around him. He never stands for someone being repressed or held down simply for expressing who they are or what they want. Having literally given his own limb to defend it, he will happily do it again, or take some extra limbs if needed. That is the one area in his life he will play no games, explore no shortcuts, or take any work-arounds. It's the side of him he thinks he's inherited from his mother's side, and is the side of him he likes the least.
Occupation: None, he mainly looked after the house with his parents while studying magics to become one of the war casters for the Dark Elven Army.
Living Immediate Family Members: Mother and Father - Ayla and Arlen Malaggar Grandmother (though not to him anymore) - General Zarra Malaggar
Dead Immediate Family Members: Grandfather - Thallan Malaggar (killed by a drunk vagrant who broke into his home in the middle of the night).
Current Companions: Amisra Keyrel
Current and Past Lover(s): None, but he certainly has eyes for someone ;)
Tanithil Malaggar was a bit of a jokester. Always playing pranks and sneaking about, looking to cause slight mischief here and there, but also serve his own means in a way. He would often peddle stolen goods to those less fortunate or perhaps even give said goods away if his heart was feeling it. He wasn't a perfect soul, but he did his best. Where his father would admire his honesty and his mother would enjoy his clever use of stealth and cunning to get out of oh so many situations. If he wasn't causing havoc, he was likely watching a particular favorite of his practicing sword work from afar before approaching her and tempting her with skipping practices. Sometimes it would work, other times he'd be chased around by her father Taerel who wanted only the best for his precious daughter.
His own brand of "powers" came with his manipulation of shadow magic. A skill that he likely inherited from his grandmother, the Grand General Zarra Malaggar. From shrouding himself in plain sight, to teleporting away in a blink, to crafting little tools and weapons to use in a scrap, Tanithil didn't really shy away from danger. He was, after all, a trouble maker. And trouble often becomes much bigger than you would expect. This proved to be words he would learn the hard way as he read a note on his grandmother's desk instructing her to assassinate a batch of "light-elf enthusiasts". As he scanned the words and read "Keyrel family" and his gut sank. He blood felt like iron spikes in his form, forcing him to stay still for what felt like dozens of minutes. Each ticking second he knew he was wasting was only sealing a fate he simply did not want to happen. He and his family disagreed on many things, often silly things. But killing their own kind for expressing their will and opinions...no. He couldn't just sit by and slink in the shadows. He grabbed his trusty cloak and silent-padded shoes and ran like he never ran before.
The scene before him was horrific. He saw piles of bodies, people he had known, talked to. His grandmother...no...he couldn't call this monster his family anymore. General Zarra stood over his childhood friend, her wrists bound behind her as the final blow was poised to strike. He called out to her in that moment..."Gramma!" He said with a pause, her faltering for just a moment as she turned to look at who dare speak so casually to her. She seemed to soften slightly at the sight of her grandson walking idly across the room. None of the guards put up a fight as, this was another member of the general's family, they wouldn't dare raise a finger to him. That was until he reached her, arms stretched out to hug her. He spun wildly around and kicked at the woman's mid-section, drawing a flimsy blade to stand between her and Amisra. He scowled at the woman and shouted all kinds of insults, denouncing her and removing the title of "Gramma" from his vocabulary.
What he didn't show however, was his backhand, gracefully working shadow magics against the ropes that bound his friend, cutting the ropes just barely enough before he would make his next move. As much as he was full of surprises, so was General Zarra. In a similar candor she walked up to the boy, not an ounce of aggression in her stance. In the blink of an eye she swung her ring-blade down towards her grandson. The guards gasped, and Tanithil's eyes widened at the sudden hot rush of pain in his wrist as he turns and hugs his friend. A strong and sudden gust of black wind enveloped them both, hiding and changing their form to match as they were whisked through the cracks in the nearby window. Zarra stood as she looked at the small cut along her hand from the shadowy mists her grandson had made. "Potential...wasted..." was all that could be heard from the guards before being barked at to find the missing traitors.
A voice, one familiar and cherished, caught Amisra’s attention as she briefly glanced over to see her beloved friend and grandson to the monster in front of her, Tanithil. What was he doing here? Would he be loyal to his grandmother? Could she truly expect him to betray his own flesh and blood? She felt her heart sink as she realized that he would be insane to do so, but it seemed she was in for quite the surprise. She watched in shock as Tanithil kicked his grandmother and Amisra felt the ropes around her wrist loosen. She had to move quickly.
In the blink of an eye, she pulled her wrists free and grabbed the two shortswords from the guards that were holding her in place. In a moment, both those guards were on the ground dead beside her. She spun in time to watch Zarra attack her own grandson. Fearing losing another person tonight, she attempted to push herself off the ground to lunge at the woman as she screamed, “Get away from him, you bitch!” Unfortunately her actions caused her to take her eyes off of those around her and a loyal guard took a swipe at Amisra. She jerked back just in time to keep from being hit with a fatal blow, but not before the blade sliced down her face. She cried out more in shock than pain just before Tanithil grabbed her and they winnowed away.
Appearing in a small, shadowed alleyway not far from the house, Amisra found herself quickly looking at her friend. “You saved me…” She whispered to him as she felt her heart swell some. It was at this moment that she noticed two things. The vision in her left eye was becoming blurry from the trickle of blood streaming down her face. The other was Tanithil’s injury. “By the Goddess, Tanithil, your hand!” She gasped out before realizing she needed to take action quickly. Without much thought, Amisra removed her top, leaving her top half in her undergarments, before tearing her shirt into strips quickly. She needed to stop the bleeding and then they needed to move and get out of there. She didn’t wait for him to respond before she grabbed his arm and made a tourniquet with one of the strips. She then went on to wrap a strip around his wrist where a hand once was. “I’m so sorry Tanithil, but we need to keep moving. Will you be okay for a little longer?” She’d completely forgotten about her own injury, not even registering the pain yet.
He couldn't help but laugh in the face of this situation. He had practically thrown every bit of his life away the second he kicked the General in the stomach and yet she still found a way to take a little more from him. His senses were dulled in the moment, a sharp ringing sensation pulsing up his arm as he clenched his teeth. Beads of sweat formed at his brow and throughout his face as he felt the burning pain of his wrist constantly remind him of his grave wound. He looked up and saw his friend had taken a grave wound herself.
"Amisra...your eye...ow, fuck!" He shrilly spoke for a moment before gaining his composure. He had given them a way to escape immediate danger, but he had to secure their escape too. He looked around and thought out the best path, the streams of adrenaline starting to finally kick in as Amisra bandaged his arm. "Of course I can move. She took my hand, not my leg. Let's get the fuck out of here!" He reached for her with his dominant hand, sighing to himself for a moment before grasping onto her hand with his left hand and pulling her along towards his residence. It would be the last place the General would think to check. He quickly snuck into his room and past his parents, all too worried about his sudden departure and even more sudden arrival. From there he packed a small bag of necessities, barely managing to dodge his worried mother who began knocking at his door. "Mom can't you see I brought a girl home?! A little privacy pleaaaase!"
He knew that being honest would only get him in trouble and cause more grief, so whatever he could say just to get her away for the time being. "Amisra, we can't stay here. We have to leave. I hate the idea, but my ... that woman is a crazy and relentless assassin. We're lucky to even be alive so, for now, pack what you think you'll need here and lets...fucking....go." He threw together some outfits for himself and some looser clothes for her as he did not really 'know' what would fit her, but literally anything would do. He threw in some first aid supplies he always kept on hand and gave her the knapsack to carry. "With my magic we can slip by but its only a matter of time before they start sending the magic drakes out. They sniff through my magic so let's book it."
"Of course I can move. She took my hand, not my leg. Let's get the fuck out of here!" Amisra couldn’t contain her eye roll as he’d said it, but then seeing him reach for her with his missing hand caused her heart to ache. “I’ll be fine, you’re worse off than me. You’re losing a lot of blood, I wanted to make sure you weren’t going to pass out on me.” She said with a sigh as they took off towards his house. It was a smart move as they would need supplies before trying to escape the city.
She helped gather supplies, trading out her bloodsoaked clothes for some of his. They were a little big on her, but she easily ignored it. She jumped, however, as she heard the knock at his door. "Mom can't you see I brought a girl home?! A little privacy pleaaaase!" Tanithil got quite the look from Amisra as he said this, smirking at him with a shake of her head, before going back to the task at hand. "With my magic we can slip by but it's only a matter of time before they start sending the magic drakes out. They sniff through my magic so let's book it." He said as they were finishing up hastily packing and she found herself nodding. “We’ll keep magic use to a minimum until we get to the border. From there we need to try to not use it at all until we’re far enough away. It’ll be hard to identify where the drakes are once we cross that border, better to be safe.” She said, knowing that it would be mostly him using magic as her own wasn’t nearly as strong.
She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and for some reason the sight of her blood caused an image to flash in her mind of her sister being killed. She dropped the bag in her hand, causing a loud thud, which only drew the attention of Tanithil’s mother again. She could hear the woman’s voice from behind the door and her head whipped towards it as she realized the door handle was turning. “Oh, Tanithil!” She moaned out loudly, adding on to his bit from earlier as she made a few more thumping noises. There was a gasp and the door clicked shut again before hurried feet scurried away from the door. She quickly picked up the bag she dropped and turned to look at her friend. “Let’s go.” She said as she went to reach for his right hand this time, wincing as she realized once more it was gone. “Sorry…” She said before grabbing his other hand and slipping out the window with him.
He nodded while hearing her plan for their escape, simply accepting her daggers for eyes as he made his quips. He looked on as he saw the color and emotion drain from her face. She had experienced great loss, something Tanithil knew very little of. He was about to reach out to console her when the thud of the bag brought him back to reality. The door handle turning made him even more panicked as he started to cast a spell. “Shit Amisr-“ “Oh Tanithil!” His face turned a beet red as he looked up at her, then back to the door handle clicking back into place. “Clever.” He spoke with a smirk, noticing her missing his hand and sighing. “Never gonna drop that habit I see.” He made sure they had their things and slipped out the window.
He knew magic needed to be low, but he had a plan. He weaved a small cloak of shadows over themselves as they ran, shielding their presence and making them almost invisible to the untrained eye. In a slightly uncouth manner, he “aimed” his nub of a hand and coalesced small orbs of shadow, shooting them off in random directions before letting them explode into fog-like mist. It was one of his classic pranks to mess with townsfolk that served as a smokescreen and a distraction for the “magic sniffers” as he made sure to make his smoke extra potent. They ducked through alleyways and narrowly missed several patrols, sometimes ducking into a luckily vacant house or in one case, stumbling into a home with a small family preparing dinner. Neither one spoke a word as they did every possible maneuver to reach the country’s border. In the distance Tanithil could hear broadcast orbs going off with the familiar voice of Zarra. “My grandson Tanithil and the daughter of Taeral Keyrel have been deemed traitors to this country. If seen, bring them to me. Do not fall for his tricks, he must face judgment for what he’s done.” He rolled his eyes and turned to her as they made it the outskirts of the city proper, far far away from any action and finally spoke. “Where now?”
They weaved through the city, sticking to the shadows and utilizing Tanithil's magic when shadows were lacking or they felt it was too much of a risk not to. They startled a few residents of a house, but it didn't stop them as they diligently worked to make it out of the city and avoid being caught. Neither one spoke a word as they did every possible maneuver to reach the country’s border. A broadcast could be heard in the distance with the familiar voice of Zarra. “My grandson Tanithil and the daughter of Taeral Keyrel have been deemed traitors to this country. If seen, bring them to me. Do not fall for his tricks, he must face judgment for what he’s done.” What a load of bullshit, Amisra thought as Tanithil turned to her once they made it to the outskirts of the city proper. “Where now?” A question she had been pondering as they fled. Amisra scanned their surroundings momentarily while thinking, but then her eyes landed on his missing limb and she knew where they needed to go.
"Ironhold. They likely won't expect us to go there and the dwarves used to be more tolerant of dark elves, though I doubt that's much of the case now. We may even be able to find someone to help with…." She couldn't bring herself to say it, but gestured to his hand. Deep down, she blamed herself for his injury. If only she hadn't taken her eyes off him when he saved her. Perhaps she could have pulled him out of the way. Either way, what was done was done and they needed to keep moving. They needed to get somewhere they could settle for a moment in order to really assess their injuries and Ironhold seemed as good a choice as any.
Best Abilities: Tanithil's abilities mainly lay in his magical prowess. He has an array of standard tricks he will use to his advantage, including his: - Shadow Cloak - provides moderate to extreme levels of invisibility to himself and more if needed, but more people means more effort/strain - Shrouded Advance - shrouds himself and nearby allies in black mist that temporarily transforms them all into misty figures that quickly dash off in whatever direction he chooses. More people = more strain/more energy needed - Shadow Weapon - his most versatile tool, Tanithil creates a weapon of his imagination using the shadow forces around him. His particular favorite is to make a dagger that he throws and turns into a "grenade" that shoots out darts of shadow shrapnel in every direction.
His erebokinesis is his bread and butter when it comes to getting out of sticky situations. If it isn't a "named ability" that he loves to showboat, he can easily whip up some form of tangible object in order to slide his way out of trouble...if he can.
Great...Farim thought to himself in the moment. He could tell as the words left his lips and countless eyes bore into his back as he held fast to his bow, only straightening as the Sultan spoke to him.
"I have not called for anyone's death so there is no need to guilt me with such..."
Farim's blood froze as the only man who he felt genuine respect and admiration for seemed to scold his choice of words. He knew his "father" would likly be snickering, cringing, or some foul mixture of both expressions at his actions. Despite his call for tact, he immediately went too heavy on the pleading, thinking there was a life at stake.
He waited a moment for everyone's piece to be said before responding in a brief moment of sincerity before he would find himself in a deeper hole than before. "Sultan, perhaps my words were hasty. I should've known better, and for that I am sorry. I trust your judgement more than any." He gave one more slight bow with his hand over his chest as he would turn to hear his cousin berate him slightly.
"Besides... There were already countless attempts to poison members of the Alidasht Royal Family and all of them were dealt with swiftly. The fact that we do not remember anything that happened last night would be enough to warrant the execution of every single person who was directly responsible for the party and the drinks if we were in Alidasht."
But this is not Alidasht Mayet.... He wanted to fight back, but now was not the time. He was already earning more and more negative attention. He certainly wanted to draw some towards him, but not piss everyone off in the process. He simply nodded to acknowledge her statement before begrudgingly turning his head towards his fathers voice.
The man's calculated ferocity and insistence on respect was something Farim knew he would take to his grave. It took every ounce of self control he had to step back as he listened to the prattling spew of words that his father so ungraciously spat. Even if the words were as well-knit as a fine silken robe he would like to toss the entire "garment" into the fire of his disdain.Same old song and dance. 'Respect me or die'.His father was a relic of the past he sought to hopefully one day overwrite. However his face remained neutral, despite the mention of an event he oh-so wished he could have bore witness to.
"Your duke still needs to be punished for humiliating and injuring my family last night. My brother may be merciful… but I do not forget nor easily forgive my enemies."
He simply stayed put, not a single smirk on his face, nor a remark from his mouth despite every cell in his body screaming to sass and belittle his father. Another time...another time... He looked on as he awaited for this overall awkward display of power and politics to simply just end already, slightly embarrassed at his own mishandling of words.
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Ojo chan 42
