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In Realms of Sun & Shadow → 4 mos ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay

Time: 7:00am; Location: Travelling to Dawnhaven → Communal Hotspring

The air was still and calm, save for the soft ticking of a pocket watch, the hands counting out each second as glassy eyes blinked to take in its information. It was morning alright, not that Céline could tell from the movement of the heavens. How long had she been wandering under this sunless sky since she heard of Dawnhaven? Weeks now it felt like, weeks of careful movement, of evading Lunarian forces and even those of her kind that went feral. The world was a dangerous place and the blight had only made it moreso. Danger like that never stopped the young doctor however, it never stopped her from diving headfirst into the belly of the beast if it meant she could save lives. It was for that very conviction that she found herself in Lunaris, despite hailing from Aurelia, despite being ‘re-born’, even if it meant she was to be run out of town for just existing. The concept wasn’t new though, just rehashed.

Closing the pocket watch and hoisting her travel pack up tighter, Céline crunched through the light snow making her way down the incline. From her vantage point she couldn’t see the town itself, but the thin plumes of smoke from fireplaces was present. Dawnhaven, she had first overheard some soldiers speaking of it, a town where humans and blight-born co-exist, where the prince and princess of both kingdoms preside. It sounded almost too good to be true, not many humans had shown her much kindness after her transformation. Céline had been fortunate enough to retain most of her human features, though the massive hairy ears protruding from the top of her skull placed her square in the realm of uncanny. To be entirely fair, even when she first awoke to her new form it was unsettling, even more-so when she discovered that the new protrusions had entirely replaced her ear. Adjusting to her new level of hearing was the most difficult, but once she got the hang of what to tune in on, she found them to be incredibly beneficial.

She stopped walking, she could hear something to the right of her. Her ear twitched and rotated around in its socket, picking up the minute sounds of flowing water, footsteps in the snow and something being brushed around…covered over? Whatever it was, curiosity had her coloured and stealthily Céline made her way through the trees, careful not to cause too much noise. As she approached the clearing, she sidled up to a tree and what she saw next filled her with shock, awe and a sense of hope. There he was, another man and yet not a man, some could say an angel or perhaps a demon, but he was just another result of the same cause; blight-born. Strangely pale, covered head and body in feathers, holding some sort of…sign post? He seemed thoughtful, happy, beautiful even in the moonlight silhouetting his frame. Had the winged man stayed any longer, Céline might have felt compelled to approach. Alas, the powerful wings launched the man upward, whatever trance she was under gone as she watched the form head towards a small town below. Was this Dawnhaven? Has she finally arrived? The other blight-born could have been a hunter on the prowl, but something about his demeanor told Céline that it couldn’t have been the case.

Emerging forth from the treeline Céline stepped to where the winged man had been, finding a small gathering of his feathers on the ground. Crouching down to inspect, she picked up one of the feathers, it was sleek, oiled, perhaps for water resistance? Though she was curious to inspect it more, Céline decided to collect it in a pouch for now and save it for future study when she had access to more equipment. Returning to an upright position she began to walk towards the town when a sudden realization hit her. Turning she saw what appeared to be a hot spring, she had been so enthralled in gazing at the winged man that she failed to notice the steaming pools of water nearby. At the very least she knew where the running water was coming from, and standing by them, she could feel the heat emanating from them. Weather and temperature hadn’t bothered her since the transformation, more than likely a side effect of it along with her other features. Even so, she could still feel cold and warmth and right now, Céline knew she was more than just a little frigid. Would it be considered uncouth? A stranger to this place, without even introducing themselves, happily taking advantage of what is more than likely a local commodity for the public to use. Taking another look at her watch only some fifteen or so minutes had gone by; was anyone even awake at this point? Céline gazed at the inviting warmth, weighing her options…screw it.

Céline approached the springs, careful to take off her traveler boots before unceremoniously chucking them to the ground and rolling up her pant legs. She’d been walking for weeks now, taking only a few hours at a time to rest at most. She stepped into the water, taking her time to adjust to the temperature before standing knee deep at the water's edge. Sighing the hare like woman sat on a flat rock by the edge, massaging her fingers into her calves and soles. People weren’t awake yet, as far as she was aware anyway, even if someone caught her at the spring, it wasn’t like she couldn’t outpace them. If the rumors behind this town were true though, would she really have any reason to need to run though?

Mentions: Pleiades @The Savant
In Realms of Sun & Shadow → 4 mos ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay

location: just outside of Dawnhaven

Ivor dug his heels into the earth, each step forward as he walked steady and strong; his quarry a sturdy pine that he chopped down throughout the night. Despite the tree's size, Ivor was confident that, under normal circumstances, he could probably cut it down in a few swings with his battleax. Were the inclinations strong enough he could have done so, but there was something worthwhile about taking the time to do a task. There was a rhythm to chopping at wood, a peace of mind came with it, as did some sense of normalcy of bygone days. Though Ivor could have felled it quickly, a hatchet is what he did bring and though it took some hours to complete, the twelve meter tall pine was his to turn into a door. Ivor thought there could probably be other uses for the wood, but first replacing the tavern door was his first priority.

As the town’s gate came into view for a second day in a row, Ivor breathed out a sigh of relief. He wasn’t entirely sure if he could sweat anymore, whether it was the cold air around him or the lack of clothing on his upper body, he was unsure. One thing he was certain of though, despite his strength, hauling a tree this old and big was difficult work and he was grateful to not have wandered too far away this time. As Ivor traveled the road, he noted the many different footsteps along the ground, including what appeared to be multiple horse hooves and a set of carriage tracks. It seemed there were already a number of individuals up and about, as well as maybe some new arrivals. The guards that kept watch over the gate recognized the giant blight-born, but their mouths were still agape at the sheer size of the tree he dragged behind him. If there was any doubt as to how strong one of his kind could be, one would only need to gaze in his direction.

Ivor dragged the pine all the way to the front doors of the Beholder, only letting the ropes slack around his shoulders once he made it close enough to the entrance. The new horses along with the carriage all but confirmed there were newcomers in his mind. Taking a look around him, Ivor noted the rather large trail he carved into the earth with the tree trunk. The giant scratched his head, figuring there was another project to work on after the door had been fixed. He spotted Kira as she was going through the markets, glad to see she made it back to town safely he gave a small wave. Not wanting to delay any longer, Ivor quickly set to work hacking into the trunk’s base. Doors were not an entirely unfamiliar thing to the tribesman, but making sure they fitted well was not in his list of good skills. Still the inn needed something that could withstand him, at least a little bit; perhaps a thicker door would be better this time.
mentions: Kira @The Muse
In Realms of Sun & Shadow → 4 mos ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay


In Realms of Sun & Shadow → 4 mos ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay

A collab by @The Muse & @BeastofDestiny


Why could she not stay dead?

Desya’s thoughts echoed in Kira’s mind endlessly. Her psychic connection to him had not been broken when the thought had entered his mind, and now it tormented her. Though he had spared her, his thought felt like he had driven a dagger straight through her heart. For two years she had not been aware that her heart could still feel the things that humans did so frivolously, but now it was painfully clear. Her heart ached as she watched him leave, as if he had ripped it from her chest and walked away with it, squeezing as hard as he could.

She stayed there for a while after the sound of the carriage faded into the distance, sitting on her knees where he had left her. She listened to the nearby chirping of crickets and the rustling of leaves in the wind, gazing up at the full moon above while her mind replayed his words in her mind. Why hadn’t he just killed her?

Finally, refusing to let herself cry, Kira stood up and tried to steel her heart against the pain. Her former lover had clearly moved on, and she needed to do the same. She was no longer the person he had known, and he was no longer the person she had known either.

Forcing her legs to move, Kira walked aimlessly deeper into the forest. Thoughts of hunger had dissipated, overshadowed by the ache in her heart. Her mind raced with questions she had tried to ignore for two years. What had become of Desya’s life after she had turned? Did he look for her when her death was announced? Did he find someone new? Start a family? Did he ever think about her at all? The life she had tried to let go of was suddenly right back in her face. Why?

“Why, Seluna?” she whispered aloud, stopping in the middle of a small forest clearing and sitting on the ground, her back resting against a fallen log. She gazed up at the moon again, feeling too emotionally exhausted to keep moving. Perhaps she would stay here for a while. It was cold, but not cold enough to kill a blight-born. Not yet.

Pulling her knees up to her chest, Kira hugged her legs and rested her forehead on them. Closing her eyes, she tried to focus on the sounds of the forest instead of the disdain in Desya’s thoughts. He hated her. Her eyes began to well with tears.

Before she could start sobbing, Kira heard the crunching of snow and a low, happy voice singing something in the distance. Snapping her head up toward the sound, she quickly wiped her eyes and pulled her cloak hood over her head. From the tone of the voice and the slight trembling of the ground as he drew nearer, she knew it was Ivor approaching.

Rising to her feet, Kira dusted herself off and began walking toward the road that led to Dawnhaven, where she had found Desya. She wasn’t eager to talk, though she was certain Ivor would have noticed her by now as well.

Ivor found himself once again outside of Dawnhaven’s walls and only so soon after arriving. It was only fair that given the damages and distress that he caused earlier in the day that he procure materials to fix the Beholder’s front door. Despite the agreement he made with Sya to give her the stag kill, along with several rabbits, the compensation didn’t sit right with the giant. So here he was on this magical winter night,hatchet in hand and a song in his heart, Ivor the wild made his way deeper and deeper into the woods. He’d seen the several light sources of what appeared to be a traveling caravan off in the distance, but paid it no mind as he had other priorities that warranted his attention; namely a new door.

Not long after passing the caravan he found a spot where some kind of scuffle occurred. There was no visible blood and nothing metallic hung in the air, just signs of movement, two sets of footprints side by side in front of a large space; had someone fallen? To their knees perhaps… Those same footprints turned back towards the main road; the caravan that passed by? A third set seemed to haphazardly meander deeper into the woods. Regardless of anything that he could discern, the strangest was how everything seemed to almost appear and originate in this spot, almost as if it poofed into existence. Either way, the unknown set of footprints was a mystery Ivor couldn’t help but be curious about, and if luck would have it, he might even find the right tree for Sya’s door.

The entire time he tracked Ivor didn’t let up on his song, the gravelly tune of his people, spoken in his native tongue, reverberated through the tree trunks. Whoever was out here, he wanted them to know he was coming and that, ideally he was friendly. If they didn’t want to be found, they could obviously flee, but it didn’t take long for him to find the source of the footprints. Despite her cloaked appearance, fiery shades of her hair and the piercing crimson gaze that accompanied it gave way to the familiar blightborn underneath. Even if the physical features weren’t apparent, an odd benefit about becoming a blight born, was that it made him acutely more aware of other blightborn. A small smile crept on Ivor’s lips as he hefted the hatchet over his shoulder. “Hello, Ms. Kira! Good to see you! What brings you out into these neck of the woods so late?” The giant asked, delighted to use a reference so accurately, even if the question came off somewhat inquisitorial.

“Evening, Ivor.” She greeted, pausing in her path to Dawnhaven as she tried to push her thoughts of Desya to the recesses of her mind. “Hunting.” She answered his question, which was true, until she had tried to hunt the Priest of Seluna. She almost turned to walk away again, but a nagging thought reminded her that she needed to eat—lest someone in Dawnhaven wake up with her fangs in their neck.

“What about you?” she asked, her orange eyes finding the hatchet he held over his shoulder. Not a typical hunting weapon.

The giant followed her gaze to his hatchet before returning back to her with a sheepish grin. “Logging, er…I broke Miss Sya’s door…I believe Miss Eris said it was not..subtle.” he nodded remembering the word right, “I wish to right the wrongs I have done, but hunting, ahhh…” he trailed off as his gaze wandered the woods, sharp and stoic. “Hunting..has been difficult, the coming cold is making it harder and the blight does not make it any easier.” As he scanned the horizon his eyes burned like fire, a remembrance of the hardships his village faced, the famine and disease, the pyres filled with starved corpses. Ivor hadn’t gotten a chance to tell the prince yet just how little he had found or how there soon may be nothing left. Dragging himself back to reality, he turned his eyes down towards the smaller blightborn, a small reassuring smile on his lips; an offer, “Allow me to assist you, they say after all two eyes are better than one, yes?” He hesitated slightly afterwards, counting off his fingers before shaking his head; better to worry about filling his companions belly than proper colloquialisms.

Kira nodded in agreement as Ivor commented on hunting. He wasn’t wrong—even she had noticed the animals becoming scarcer as the days grew colder. It worried her about the harshest winter temperatures ahead. How would she sustain herself when all that was left were the humans in Dawnhaven?

“And four eyes are even better.” she said with a half-smile, endeared by his struggle with the common tongue. “I’d like that, thank you.” She decided to abandon her retreat back to Dawnhaven for now. It was better to hunt while she still could, and Ivor was providing a necessary distraction for her. She did not want to see Desya in the village again—not so soon, anyway.

“You’ve gotten much better with your language since we met.” She commented, recalling barely understanding him when she first came to Dawnhaven. “The sage must be a good teacher.”

Moving closer to Ivor to begin their hunt together, Kira wondered how he managed to hunt so well. The man was monstrous in size, and his very steps would alert creatures to his presence. Her method of hunting relied on stealth, but he clearly had other talents.

“Hah! Very good, jabool,” Ivor didn’t mask his emotion, however he knew well enough to keep his voice low, lest he scare whatever potential wildlife there may be. Now with a new purpose, Ivor’s footfalls almost seemed to lighten in the snow as his eyes sharpened into a hawk-like gaze. Though he wasn’t nearly as quiet as the crimson wraith beside him, the earth rumbled less in his wake.

“You think so?” He smiled at the compliment, “it was…is, difficult to learn, but Miss Eris, she has been very patient with me, she takes all the time in the world to explaining everything.” He remembered first coming to her at the Prince’s request, how most everything for the first two weeks was just pointing. “She was scared at first, of me I think, but we have become good friends, this I feel.”

As they walked and spoke quietly amongst one another, a familiar marking caught Ivor’s attention. The two found themselves in front of a particularly tall pine tree, Ivor approached it’s base, scraping off a brown substance from the bark with his fingers. Pressing the rancorous filth to his nose, the scent was all too familiar as he inhaled deeply. “There is boar in these woods,” a smile as he wiped the excrement on his clothing. “This is good find, he was not here before.” Ivor’s eyes scanned the environment, looking for any signs of the creature, “There,” he pointed, “the trees will show the way, see the scratch markings? This will not be only way, hoof tracks, crushed plants and grass; all lead to boar.”

Kira followed Ivor’s lead, studying the way he observed things. She had been a hunter all her life, but her prey had always been humans, not animals. Admittedly, she had not attempted to hone her animal hunting skills much in the last two years since becoming blight-born. However, as the days grew colder and distant military patrols became scarcer, this skill was becoming more necessary. “Impressive. I should always come to you when I need a bite to eat…” She whispered back to him playfully, though it was only half a joke. He was already much more successful at this than she had been earlier in the day. If they managed to catch it, the boar would be able to satiate her for an entire day.

Gesturing toward the path that the boar was leaving, Kira nodded to Ivor to continue leading the way. Grabbing the dagger strapped to her side, she prepared to seize any opportunity the boar might give them for a fatal blow.

Ivor smiled sincerely at his compatriot, “Come anytime at all, Miss Kira.” The two moved forwards through the underbrush, searching for any signs for the position of their quarry. It was amazing what just the environment itself could tell one about their prey. A broken twig meant something stepped there, parted grass showing the path it cut through, even the birds changed their tune to subtle disturbances.

Some half a kilometer or so, the boar presented itself. Haggard and starved it was pawing at the ground for what could have been the very last truffle of the forest. Regardless it was distracted, but outside of his hatchet, Ivor didn’t bring anything with him, not expecting the impromptu hunt. As the light of the moon glinted off Kira’s dagger, however, he was reminded of her speed and strength.

“If you are quick enough,” Ivor spoke in hushed tones, “aim just behind its shoulders, you will be able to pierce both the heart and the lung.”

Kira’s eyes met Ivor’s for a brief moment as he instructed her, a smirk slowly rising on her lips. If she were fast enough. Ha!

In an instant, Kira ran from the brush and pounced on the boar before it could react.The kill was swift, her dagger striking precisely where Ivor had directed. The boar barely had time to squeal before its life ebbed away, and Kira held it until its legs buckled beneath it. Carefully, she guided it to the ground. She grinned at Ivor, proud of her accomplishment. It wasn't as exhilarating as hunting humans, but the prospect of a substantial meal tonight excited her nonetheless. That, and she realized that she missed being instructed to kill something, which was regrettable.

“Thank you for the help.” she said to him, holding the smile on her lips triumphantly. Ivor had helped her in more ways than he knew. “You’re quite the tracker.”

Kneeling beside the boar, Kira withdrew her dagger from the animal. Blood began to flow from its wound, causing her eyes to dilate. She glanced up at Ivor, a slight pang of embarrassment hitting her at that moment. She had not fed in front of someone like this before. Having someone witness her doing this made her feel like a feral beast. Just as Desya had called her. Though Ivor was a blight-born, it still felt odd. He did not share the same type of affliction that she did.

“If you don’t mind, I…” she glanced at the blood, her fangs aching to sink into the boar. “I haven’t eaten all day.”

As if Ivor had loosed an arrow, Kira was upon the boar, a clean kill if he ever saw one and instantly the volume went up, “Yes! Very good!” The pride he felt in that moment very nearly mirrored hers. Yet as he approached her and the creature, the blood spilling from its wound, there was hesitation, doubt, maybe even fear in her gaze. “Why is this? Was this not reason we hunt together?” The man lowered himself in front of her and the boar, legs criss crossed, his behind reverberating the ground as he plopped in place.

“We are friends, no? Friends, eat together,” he looked at the boar, its life fading rapidly and began inhaling. Soon a white mist emerged and found its way into Ivor’s gaping maw. Though it appeared he was breathing in air, it didn’t look as though his chest expanded until the mist entered his body, as if he finally caught his breath. Exhaling both a relief and a satisfaction, he extended his hand towards the boar in a gesture, “please, eat.”

Kira studied Ivor in silence for a moment, stunned by his comradery. He wanted to feed with her? This felt intimate in a way she hadn't experienced since her turning, perhaps even longer. Friends? She pondered the notion, feeling an emotion stir within her that she could not yet recognize. Whatever it was, it made her heart ache—differently from the way Desya had.

“Friends.” she affirmed, a faint smile returning to her lips as she observed the mist seemingly drawn out of the boar and into Ivor’s body. It was fascinating to watch another type of blight-born feed, though her primal instincts quickly refocused her attention on the boar.

Leaning in, Kira’s fangs sunk into the animal's neck as easily as a hot knife through butter. Closing her eyes, she savored the taste and the rush of endorphins that surged through her body along with it.

As Ivor sat and watched Kira feast on the boar, he was reminded of his tribe. Some of the men from his village believed that eating the raw heart of a strong animal would lend them its strength. Ivor wondered how they would feel if they could consume an animal's soul. In essence there was no true power to be gained, just the strength to carry on and the memories housed within the meal consumed. “I wonder something, Miss Kira…Do you…feel as I do?” The words were a bit difficult, that wasn’t quite what he wanted to say, but it was close. “When I eat something, I feel…what they felt,” he nodded towards the boar, “in its last moments of life, it felt..scared…I have been feeling this in many animals, everything is scared.”

For a second, Kira almost ignored his question, her primal instincts urging her to continue feeding. Fighting against that urge, she forcefully pulled herself away from the boar and sat upright. Her eyes were fixed on Ivor again, her lips now stained crimson with fresh blood dripping down her face.

Kira furrowed her brow sympathetically as Ivor spoke, though she couldn't fully understand his perspective. She shook her head, wiping a drip of blood from her chin. “No, I don’t feel anything from the animal…” She glanced at the creature, pondering why it had been frightened. It hadn't sensed their presence or known it was being hunted, as far as she could tell. “It’s usually the opposite for me,” she explained, turning her gaze back to Ivor. “I...” She hesitated, unsure of how to simplify her condition. “I make them feel.” she gestured to her fangs, “Poison. It makes people feel... happy.” she downplayed it slightly. The poison she could inject from her fangs made people elated and euphoric, but it could be lethal.

She looked back at the boar, licking her lips clean of any remaining blood. “Do you know why it was scared?”

“I see,” the response was somewhat deadpan, though Ivor wasn’t really sure what he was expecting for an answer. While blightborn were becoming more numerous, those who shared similar abilities were few and far between, especially those with abilities like his. “If I had to be guessing, it is probably the blight,” he looked upon the animal’s remains, “the cold makes food hard to find already, but if the blight poisons the only good soil around, it forces the animals to move outside of the normal hunting grounds.”

Ivor moved towards the boar, running his hand along the side of it, feeling its ribs poking through its hide. “A scared animal is a dangerous animal, it is best you put it down, otherwise it could have hurt someone.” Ivor sighed, “I cannot blame them for being scared, I was too once; how could you not be afraid of something you do not understand?”

Kira frowned as Ivor explained, her eyes looking over the creature. It was certainly skinnier than what a healthy boar should weigh, which was seeming more common in most of the animals Kira had been hunting down over the last two months. She suddenly felt guilty for stealing the life it had left.

How could you not be afraid of something you do not understand?

His words lingered in her mind, tugging at her heartstrings. She no longer understood herself. Was she the scared animal that needed to be put down? She was dangerous and could hurt someone—that much was certain. She had nearly taken the life of their moon Priest and her former lover. She had been inches away from making one of the biggest mistakes of her life.

Snapping back to reality, Kira gently placed a hand on the boar and closed her eyes. "Thank you for providing us with this meal. May the moon goddess guide you in the afterlife." she whispered, echoing a ritual she had seen small tribes perform during her missions.

Opening her eyes, Kira met Ivor’s gaze again. “That must be difficult, to always feel what your meal felt right before death.” Her thoughts drifted to the humans she had hunted over the years—the terror they felt in their final moments. If she had been afflicted with Ivor’s condition, she likely would’ve preferred to starve.

Ivor smiled, appreciating her respect for the boar and concern for his well-being, “It is not all so bad, sometimes taking on the bad helps us grow to be better.” He thought for a moment, “It is not always easy, but life was already hard, how could I not expect new life to be just as hard!” Ivor laughed strong and hard, the sound echoing through the woods. “I thank you, Miss Kira,” the giant gazed into her crimson eyes, “we blightborn, may not be easy to understand, but I like to think, on nights like these, that we are all not monsters, that life here is possible, together.”

Kira took a deep breath as Ivor spoke, trying to steady her fragile emotions that threatened to burst from her chest. She had already been in a vulnerable state when Ivor found her. The barrier she had worked so hard to build had been broken down, and he had caught her off guard. Of all the people she thought she’d allow herself to cry in front of, she never imagined it would be Ivor. Yet, tears began to well.

Feeling like something was caught in her throat, Kira remained silent for a few moments, averting her gaze to the frozen ground beneath them. She tried to think of anything but what he had said, but her mind had turned against her tonight.

we are all not monsters

Did he truly believe that?

YOU ARE DANGER!

The memory of Desya screaming at her with fiery hatred in his eyes flashed through her mind.

You do not belong in civilization. You belong to a class of undead that need to be eradicated.

Kira closed her eyes tightly, as if she could shut off the torturous memories. Tears began to roll down her cheeks, silently she cursed herself and clenched her fists. Not here!

She took a trembling breath, overwhelmed by emotions she had tried to bury long ago. “I- I’m sorry, Ivor.” She wiped her eyes, refusing to make eye contact with him until she could get ahold of herself.

She chuckled then, somewhat of a nervous habit from embarrassment. “We are certainly not easy to understand, are we?”

Ivor wasn’t sure if he had said something wrong or something right at that moment. From tearful to composed, Ivor wasn’t sure what to do other than to continue on with the conversation as if nothing happened; No, that wasn’t right. Perhaps to continue was to draw attention away from something that was clearly painful to Kira, something that Ivor wasn’t meant to know or understand, at least not now. So, he smiled and replied, “No, we are not. The village elders, they had this saying ehhh…if I had to translate it would be… ‘Ignorance begets strife, understanding begets fellowship’. I like to think, Dawnhaven is the first step to fellowship.”

Ivor then stretched before hefting himself up and offering a hand to his friend, “We must do this again sometime,” quoting directly from one of Eris’ tales as he lifted Kira with ease, “but in all un-jesting, if you need anything Miss Kira, you come to Ivor, he will help or listen.”

Finally able to meet Ivor's gaze again, Kira steadied her breathing and looked at the massive hand he offered. Gently, she took it, her hand completely dwarfed in his. Though her hands had known labor in the past, his were rougher, the callouses along his palms telling their own story. She allowed him to haul her to her feet, a faint smile on her lips as she ignored the ache in her chest. "Thank you," she replied softly.

The giant then looked around spotting a solid wide trunked pine, “I think I have found my tree, I would ask if you will be alright on your way back, but I has a feeling you will be okay on your own.” Ivor’s gaze turned to the now evaporated boar before returning to Kira, “Eh, is the meat..safe to eat now?” He used an index finger to point towards an incisor, “The poison, I mean. I could bring it back and make jerky?” Would salt even counteract a poison?

Her fiery orange eyes found the boar once more, her smile growing in amusement before she returned her gaze to Ivor. “Yes, it’s fine. There’s no poison in it,” she assured him, gesturing to her fangs for a moment. “I can control it.” It was one of the few aspects of her transformation she was able to control, luckily.

“Thank you again, Ivor.” She gave him one last glance as she started towards the road to Dawnhaven once more. “I’ll see you around.”
In Realms of Sun & Shadow → 6 mos ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay


The giant of a blight-born nodded in affirmation as he waited for the rider to hop on his sled. As soon as she was secured enough he started trodding forward, the sled gliding after him after a jerky start. Each step impacted the ground with a dull thud as he trudged forward, his eyes moving side to side, taking in his surroundings. Ivor had only been in Dawnhaven for a month now, having heard of the settlement that allowed blightborn to coexist. He didn’t want to live there originally, moreso was just curious at the idea of a town full of monsters and people; yet somehow the place had managed to win him over. Both the prince and princess had certainly tried to get him to stay of their own accord, but it was the people who lived there and that odd determination to make it work, despite the adversity. That thought alone made him more than a little homesick, but it was enough to convince him to stay and help in his own way to keep the township afloat.

“It not much now, was not much when first got here either, but town has big heart,” he tried to emphasize that last bit as much as he could, facing away from her. “People here are good too, like Sy’a, she will give you good food, but do not stare..it is..rude, or there is Sunni boy he has…things for…things.” Ivor didn’t remember exactly what Sunni’s job was, only that sometimes people visited him with things and they would get other things in return. “The prince and princess live here too, always followed by that serious one and the little moon lily.” Ivor had enough trouble trying to pronounce most words without trying to do names, so he would often refer to them in nicknames or brief descriptors. Even if he were to use anyone’s real name, there was no guarantee that Rider would have any idea about who he was speaking of.

“Fear not Rider, we are coming to the place soon, you will get much rest and hot food and,” he paused for a brief moment as he saw two figures ahead, both recognizable; yet the social cues were not. Ivor laughed heartily, a deep laugh that came from his belly, “MY FRIENDS! Kreztchimar nozemme jabool!” the giant exclaimed as he picked up the pace, dragging the sled ever faster behind him and nearly forgetting his occupant in the process. Nevertheless he stopped some feet away before Eris and Pleiades to greet them, “Good day friends! I come back with much stuff, is good, VERY GOOD!” He emphasized with a big thumbs up and another hearty laugh. He lowered himself on one knee to be more at level with the two of them, “Is good to see you, Miss Eris,” Eris Hightower, a woman far more intelligent than Ivor, with a generous heart to match as she had volunteered her time teach him basic reading and writing. His head turned to the other blightborn present, “and you as well…er”, it wasn’t that Ivor didn’t know this man’s name, but he didn’t have the capacity to pronounce it yet. Try as he might, the words didn’t come through, instead the name ground down into a paste like simulacrum and was spat back out as, “...Boird man..” he looked at Pleiades rather sheepishly, before standing back upright and sighing, “Good to be back…”

Interactions: Persephone @PrinceAlexus, Eris @The Muse, Pleiades Porter @The Savant
Mentions: Syraeia @PrinceAlexus, Flynn @The Muse, Elara & Orion @Qia, Octavia & Sunni @The Savant
In Realms of Sun & Shadow → 6 mos ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay


Ivor’s gaze shifted between the woman and her horse, neither trusted his sudden presence, which was fair given his outstanding gait, but he wasn’t here to make enemies. As the woman tried to calm her steed, Ivor began to remove his kills from his body. Each corpse slowly draped down onto the deer and as Ivor slowly lowered himself into a crouch on all fours, his eyes never left the steed. Each move he made was deliberate, careful, he spoke to the creature in his native tongue, a noise comparable to rocks and stones being slurried through a river. His voice, still gruff, was now fluent; it sounded harsh, rough, direct, but its tone was affirmative and somehow calm like a low rumble. Some could consider what he was doing witchcraft, but this was the man, Ivor, trying to reach out to the beast, to look past his blighted form.

“Calm, Agnar. I come to you in peace my brother,” Ivor bowed respectively, like a servant would to a king, acknowledging this creature’s strength and majesty. “You are tired, your master is tired, we are here to help and make you whole again.” Ivor inched ever closer, the steed stamping its hoof in protest, but lessening with each word spoken. Once close enough, he closed the gap and gently stroked the horse’s mane. Where there were panicked noises, was now replaced with the heavy breathing of a stallion realizing it was out of steam, and allowed this giant to touch him. “Good Agnar, good calm,” Ivor spoke as he shifted back to the common tongue, “Jabool!” He exclaimed as he nodded to the guard before turning his attention back to the rider, taking a knee in front of her.

He listened as best he could to her words, he’d only been here for a few months and barely knew the common tongue beforehand. While he’d certainly made leaps and bounds in progress and basic grammar, if it wasn’t obvious before, the common tongue was not his first language. He placed a hand on his chest, “My name, Ivor, this is Dawn Haven, our home,” he said, extending it out to the settlement. “You are Lunaran? Yes? I take you to other Lunarans, but first you see, Syraeia.” He paused for any of her protests before continuing deliberately, “You. Need. Rest. Rider…” Standing to full height he walked to his makeshift sled, picking up his kills to drape around his neck again. “I do not…err what is word..presume, yes? That you want to be carried, but you are can not stand, so…” picking up the stag from the sled, he hauled up the body like a sack of potatoes, “A lady… needs a chariot, yes?” Or so he thought, at least that’s what the story books he was reading said anyway. He gestured for her to get on, at least this way he could bring her to the inn where Syraeia was sure to have something warm and filling.

@PrinceAlexus
In Realms of Sun & Shadow → 6 mos ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay


“Do you remember what I taught you?” a whisper in his left ear, no, more like a low rumble, “about exhaling before you shoot yes?”

“Yes, pater,” A young boy crouches with an older male behind bushes, the air is cool, a light snow drifts towards the earth below. The sun shines through the trees, illuminating the blanketed ground and silhouetting a large stag pawing at the snow for any signs of life to consume. The boy begins to notch an arrow into his bow, “breathe in for strength, breathe out for accuracy,” his voice barely above a whisper. The man nods, “good, now show me what you can do.” The boy’s eyes remain firmly affixed to his target, his head barely nodding to acknowledge his father’s words.

breathe in
breathe out


The bow shifted to eye level, a steady hand gripped firmly ahead of him, another prepared to pull on the taut string. The boy imagined himself as the arrow, gliding swiftly from his cheek, to pierce the heart of this majestic beast.

Breathe in


Pulling with all his might, the tension increases as the arrow is brought from rest to against the boy’s cheek. The fletching extends out from his eye into the shaft, the tip of the arrow planted firmly against the stag’s heart. In his mind’s eye, he could see his target and in his heart he was prepared to take this life, to further extend his own.

Breathe out


In one fell swoop, his grip laxed and the arrow loosed. Straight and true to its intended target, the unsuspecting stag cried out to the heavens and collapsed to the ground; silent. The older male exclaimed in joy, “Yes boy! Well done!” A firm hand clapped against the boy’s back, “Now we tie him up and bring him back to the village, your mother is going to make stew again!”

The boy got up with the man and nodded, trodding through the snow to claim their prize. As the boy got closer, the sky slowly turned darker and darker and as he grew in height, so too did the stag decrease in size. From the lovely, muscled and healthy stag the boy had slew, now stood a towering giant of a man before a pathetic, famine wretched creature, barely clinging to life. Unlike the child who believed in a clean shot, this hunter had grown into something that couldn’t afford to be human about food anymore.

“Forgive me, little one, know that while you suffer this pain now, your body shall nourish others soon. I only hope that will be a small comfort for what I am about to do to you, and for this I am truly sorry…” The man knelt beside the stag, its labored and sickly breathing silenced quickly as Ivor drew his knife and slit its throat.

Ḅ̴͕̓̾ŕ̶̛͚̥e̴̛̘͓͗ȧ̷͊͜t̴͈̬̉ḣ̴͈ḙ̶̋ ̵̙̅͂ͅĮ̴̗̔Ņ̴̻̄͝


As Ivor opened his mouth a wispy white mist emerged from the beast’s neck wound and found its way to him. As if he were drawing breath, the mist entered his body and filled his lungs. A soul’s energy was unlike anything he had experienced as a man. It felt like an instant shot of energy, like adrenaline without a hard crash, it filled him with vigor. However, the drawback with such raw life is to also feel its raw emotion as well. Hunger, pain, fear, survival, kill, there were no cohesive thoughts, only engrained feelings that had welled up during the creature’s life and amplified near its end. The feelings were similar to the other creatures he’d slew over the last week and a half. Everything from pheasants, pigeons, rabbits, squirrels and this starved stag, only confirmed what he had been seeing visually.

“Food is becoming scarce…” It wasn’t something he wanted to admit, but even with his heightened senses it was becoming more difficult to track down any game. On top of that, the game he did find was struggling as much as he was with food. Ivor noted the ribs protruding a little too much for a beast of this size as he removed the arrow. Stag were hearty creatures, feasting on the forest floor, an abundance of grass, nuts and berries and fresh vegetation wherever found. Such a wild assortment of food creates the unique and gamey taste that so many crave. While this beast wouldn’t taste nearly as good, he was sure that Syraeia would be able to make it edible for the townsfolk.

As Ivor roped up the stag to haul it with his other kills, he took in his surroundings. He said he would be back in a few days, a week at most. It had already been longer than that, far longer than he had intended and though he didn’t expect a rescue party to come after him, he didn’t want to cause any distrust for his extended absence. A couple dozen smaller animals, plus one barely average stag, a disappointing hunt for him personally to be sure, but whatever food he would bring back would be appreciated, he knew this much. A day and a half of continuous travel at most, it’d be a long trek, but he had plenty of time to kill now that he was dead…

~ 2 Days Later ~


The heavy snow that came in slowed his progress, but Ivor had trudged his way back to civilization, to Dawn Haven. The cold was something he had been used to as a man before, but now as a blight-born, he was practically immune to the biting chill, his only adornments the tied carcasses of small mammals that draped round his neck. Behind him, the stag was being dragged on a makeshift sled. While Ivor could easily have dragged it back as is, this would preserve what little flesh the creature had left on it from being damaged by the ground and the people would be happier for it.

The small settlement slowly grew larger in size as Ivor approached, grateful the sky was as clear as it was considering the last few days. As he approached the village, he spotted the guards at the gate, they appeared to be tending to a rather antsy Lunarian heavy and what he surmised was its rider. His slow trudge soon turned into a slightly faster gait as he lifted his legs to go into a type of run. The earth shook beneath him slightly with each heavy footfall, the shuddering ground gaining him the attention of the gate’s keepers.

“Hail! I come back from the hunt with lots of great things!” Closing the distance between him and the guards, he noticed the short haired woman, exhausted and catching her breath, “Who is this? What has happening here? Hm?” Though Ivor’s intentions were usually good natured, his low guttural voice and thick accent often left a worse than desired impression of him. “Speak quickly friends, the stag will not dry itself!”
In Realms of Sun & Shadow → 6 mos ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay



In The Nameless City → 1 yr ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Zavala Zeras


All was quiet and still, nary a whisper was to be heard, no sound seemed to pierce the confines of the stone chamber deep beneath the palace. Even the torch Zavala had placed in a holder on the wall made no cracks as the flames licked the air, the brilliant light casting a long shadow that loomed large behind the prince. Within the hallowed halls the prince stood amongst his ancestors, kings and Regia of the past who had been given the greatest of honors, before being laid to rest here, their duty fulfilled. Even now his own father sits upon the throne, the latest host to the great king, yet no time was wasted in constructing a statue declaring his legacy. Zavala's fingertips touched the cool slab of granite, tracing the edges of the casket that would serve as his father's final resting place.

"Father...", Zavala's eyes traced up the length of the statue, to the features that had been painstakingly crafted by artisans and masons to reflect the benevolent nature of their king. To Zavala however, in this moment, he imagined his father staring down at him disapprovingly, disappointedly. How could he not? The storm was going to encroach upon the walls again, wiping away another facet of their civilization, further driving his people into despair. Enemies without was one thing, but with the revolutionists being even more active, dealing with enemies within at the same time was more than arduous. Zavala leaned over the stone slab, his grip tightening hard around the mineral before softening as he raised himself up with poise and grace. Like a child to his father, he addressed the statue as such, "Father...I know not what to do..." he stated aloud, his voice speaking as honestly as he could, "The storm encroaches upon our city once more and yet I find myself embroiled within petty politics." Petty might have been an understatement, but the uprising felt more of a distraction from the true enemy that slowly gorged itself upon them.

"I am expected to make a choice, to deal with the revolutionaries, to set an example for those that would follow the path to chaos...this feels not unlike madness. That our people should be so divided when faced against a common enemy, that I cannot walk the streets unaccompanied for fear of my life, that merely greeting another in the street could result with a knife in my back...tis truly madness. Yet am I any better? I am expected to make a choice, to hold another's life in my hand, to condemn their choices with capital punishment..." Zavala felt weary, his tired eyes gazing up at his father and seeing...understanding and commiseration. "Father? How am I to save our people?" It was an answer that would not come and yet it was a question Zavala wised to prose nonetheless.

The silence in the chamber was broken as the audible clang of steel to stone slowly grew louder, a member of the Regia guard making his way into the chamber called out to Zavala. "Your grace, it is time..."

Zavala sighed audibly, the weariness had not abated, and as he looked up to the statue one final time before leaving the chamber, it's expression was as it always was; one of benevolence.

The large double doors cracked open as the guards opened the way for Prince Zavala to make his way to the council chambers. His footsteps echoed across the marbled tile, a group of men and women, the council of 12 all present and standing by waiting for him. His eyes quickly scanned the room, but it appeared his mother, the queen regent, was nowhere to be found. The one part of the room he had the most difficulty with looking at was where the Regia sat, where his father's body 'lay', but Zavala knew where he was in relation to the Regia. With practiced motion, down to the final 42nd step, Zavala presented himself before the Regia and kneeled in reverence, his head bowed low. "Oh Great King, I do humbly present myself before thee, may I serve forevermore."
In ~ Welcome to Sanctuary ~ → 1 yr ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay
Mitch & Barry

interacting with Zachary Snypes@Viciousmarrow and referencing Reya Parker@The Muse


Mitch's eyebrow raised up a little, a small smirk forming on their lips as Zack seriously considered their innocent little quip. An opportunity to tease the older boy presented itself and Mitch latched onto it like a croc, "Hmmm~ not too hot, not too cold, but just right. Sounds like a real goldilocks kind of situation," they pondered affirmatively, their head nodding as if to agree with the statement. "It's just a shame that I'm not into redheads," Mitch winked at Zack, a playful smirk on their lips. Before they could go any further with the banter, one of the other band members came staggering through with some equipment in hand, not before making a dig at Zack first. Though Mitch didn't know the other band members personally, Mitch knew of them and that they were all related to some degree and that felt like sibling fuckery that felt so nostalgically familiar.

Barry followed behind the other two, his head shaking and eyes rolling every so slightly at Mitch's playful and mischievous behavior. A lot of the town had shown up to the festival, along with plenty of out of towners he didn't recognize right off the cuff. One face that stuck out as they passed the crowds was Reya Parker, seeing her made him realize that it'd been weeks since he'd stopped by her tavern. Today was the anniversary, wasn't it? Shit... he made a mental note to make an effort to visit her soon, if nothing else to just check up on her or at least prose about building maintenance... Barry nearly didn't register that he was about to walk into someone as another red head, who seemed to know the first one, forced her way by.

“Don’t pay her any mind. She’s drunk, sure, but for some reason she plays and sings better that way…"

"Hey man, I'm not one to judge. Everyone's got a boat they use to float, so long as it gets them downstream, who am I to complain?" Mitch smiled understandingly, giving a thumbs up for reassurance as Zack lead the three of them over to the truck. After some brief instruction, the trio got to work and Mitch set about grabbing onto a couple of different drum stands and attachments, the stand for the keyboard was grasped in their other hand.

“So you two got names? Feel like I’ve definitely seen you around town before. Definitely sorta remember seeing you around school.”

Barry set about hauling out the bass drum, hoisting it up onto one shoulder as another hand reached down, and with some impressive grip strength, snagged the floor tom out of the truck bed. "Name's Barry kid, I run around and do the odd job here and there, figured that's why you approached me," he shrugged, "guess you lucked out today." He smirked a little as began the trek towards the stage, hauling the main drum kit components up and setting them down center stage towards the back. Risers had been set up specifically for the drums so they could sit higher up behind the rest of the group, really demand the presence of the crowd as the drummer sets the speed and rhythm of the song. As Barry finished setting up the bass and tom next to it, he couldn't help but notice the girl from earlier struggling with setting up the cymbals. "I Don't suppose you could use an extra pair of hands?"

Mitch smiled as he attempted to remember their familiarity, "I'm surprised you remembered honestly, I'm Mitch, Mitch Kowalski. I was a couple of grades behind you so it's not like we had any classes together, but you certainly left an impression on me." They beamed brightly at the young rocker, open and honest with their opinion. He was incredibly impressionable, a vibrant and charismatic soul, who despite his fiery temperament, could bring people together with his music. "Though to be fair, I think you left an even bigger impression on Principal Sheffield," Mitch started laughing as they carried the equipment over to the stage, "I remember her looking about 10 years younger the semester after you graduated."
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