Showing posts with label storyns. Show all posts
Showing posts with label storyns. Show all posts

Friday, August 5, 2011

Promises, Promises

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[133] Jinquil: Promises, Promises
Fri Aug  5 07:56:29 2011
To: Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom Thaxanos Wargar All Kyri IMM RP Zandreya
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The elven scout that had come to them the night before had warned that
there were thousands of dwarves in the forest and they were marching west to
the sea in an attempt to cut the vallens off.  Though wounded the man
insisted on continuing, warning that more refugees would be pouring through
the city gates.  He made it clear that this time they would need assistance
in reaching the city. 

Until the wee hours of the morning the elves of the vallen city rode out
continuously from it's gates, meeting the wounded refugees that had become
as steady a stream as the river that flows through the heart of Shalonesti.
Unlike many of the first refugees, these groups consisted only of women and
children.  Maimed, some were missing limbs and badly bleeding, their wounds
tended only by themselves as they had fled to escape the onslaught of
murderous dwarves.  Using her steed, Jinquil ferried the worst of them from
forest to temple, meeting all she could at the tree line to assist them
safely inside the city. 


Occasionally the elves were forced to make a quick grab of a woman or child,
narrowly avoiding the swing of an axe or sword.  Adding insult to injury...
The continued attempts at the lives of these helpless elves who had been
forced to flee wounded into the smoke shrouded forest brought her a sense of
rage she could not completely contain and Jinquil found herself growling and
picking her way through the lines of soldiers at the city walls, approaching
one of the elven archers. 


Within moments, Jinquil held the man's bow over her shoulder and was riding
back into the woods.  Halting her horse several yards from the gates, her
eyes found the form of Drondon, rolling as he rescued another child from
death by stump.  She pulls an arrow from the quiver at her shoulder.  It's
tip, serrated at the edges in a leaf shaped pattern, glimmered red gold in
the eerie light.  Arrow notched, she pulls the string of the bow back and
aims high, sending the arrow arching with a whisper through the woods.  The
emerald and golden shaft whizzes brightly through the dark night, striking
the ground just a few inches from the fleeing dwarf.  Promise sent, Jinquil
circles her steed around to follow and shield Drondon's retreat with the
injured child. 


Having volunteered to risk the current dangers of the forest to usher them
home, Jinquil spent the evening and the dark hours of the morning doing so
with the same diligence she turned to any task, working herself to a state
past exhaustion.  Fortunately the frustration and anger she felt at being
powerless to prevent such carnage fueled her and would give her strength to
continue with the plans that had been meant for the previous day. 


After giving orders to have the Sha'qelas scout ships patrol the western
coastline, Jinquil turned her attention to preparing her steed for the day's
journey into the thick of the woods.  Her mind refusing to relinquish the
image of the scout, clasping the wound at his side and demanding to return
to the forest.  She had left to guard the gate and only learned from the
Songmaster later in the eve that the man had passed away from his wounds.
With a sigh of sorrow and a prayer to Zandreya for the man's safe passage
into her realm, Jinquil left for the stables to seek out Llorana, silently
hoping she would have the opportunity soon to repay the dwarves in kind for
their transgressions. 

Promises, Promises

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[132] Drondon: Promises, Promises
Fri Aug  5 06:38:57 2011
To: Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom Thaxanos Wargar Kyri IMM RP Zandreya All
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He ordered the elves that were capable to aid the new waves of refugees
coming into the city.  These weren't the refugees like the droves.  These
were women and children.  Badly beaten some of them, others clutching
wounds, all covered in ash and soot.  Drondon made it a point to go to the
west of the Vallens, following the new plumes of smoke, and the red tinted
clouds.  He heard the cries and moans of the women, some carrrying small
infants, the children close to their mother's sides.  He noticed what the
scout had told the elves at the pool.  No men.
 

Where soot and ash covered elf came up to him, coughing meekly.  The little
girl tugged lightly at the hem of his leather and chainmail shirt.  The
Songmaster blinked, the anger in his blue orbs melting away to concern and
sadness as he crouched down to the elf's level.  The bruised and tired
looking elf spoke softly, 'There's more...  Lil babies and mama's, my
friend, Roshan, can you help him. 


All Drondon could do was nod.

Promise?   The child coughed again, covering her ashed streaked face with
the back of hand. 


The half elf looked the girl straight in the eyes, 'Promise.   He nodded
then stood straight up, looking at the little elf's mother.  'There's food
and shelter at Her temple.  Take the lil one. 


Drondon tightened the straps at the back of his head, making his faceguard
fit snug against him.  Before the disheveled woman could nod, he was gone.


The smoke billowed from the west, and by the coast.  He passed more
refugees, not a single male elf.  He urged them on, as elves from the city
came and aided them, picking up the wounded, and smaller children. 


He moved deeper into the smoked filled forest, the heat was making him
sweat, his leathers were becoming soaked.  Off a few yards a small clearing,
slowly becoming engulfed by creeping flames, he saw a little pointy eared
boy, sprawled out, bleeding, and whimpering in pain.  He broke out into a

sprint, tugging his sash off as he reached for the boy.  From the smoke,
like a creature of nightmares, a dwarf came forth, raising it's axe, aiming
it's blow at the boy's chest.  Drondon rushed like the winds of Turpa,
snatching the child, hugging him tightly to his chest, rolling before the
axe found it's mark, then breaking into a full run back to the city.
Promise is a promise.   He wrapped his sash around the child's mouth and
nose to keep anymore smoke out of his lungs.  He remembered the beady eyes
of the dwarf and would make a note to see it again soon. 

Raise Your Weapons

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[128] Drondon: Raise Your Weapons
Thu Aug  4 22:38:43 2011
To: Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom Thaxanos Wargar All Kyri IMM RP Zandreya
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They stood around in a large circle, shoulder to shoulder, their eyes
locked on the white haired, half elf.  They all wore various fashions of
armors made of chainmail, their sheathes housed different makes of swords,
men and women in the group, but they all had one thing in common: a sash
trimmed in crimson and ivory.  The sash of the Kyorl. 


Drondon saw the faces of each as he turned in a slow circle, his soft,
sapphire blue eyes met each of theirs.  They're here, and they want to kill
us.  They don't care who we are, what we believe, or what we do.  Death is
what they want to bring.


You know your prime objective, I don't have to tell you.   He walked the
inner rim of the circle of Kyorl, passing elves of high blood, wilders, sea
elves, and a couple half elves.  You also know that I don't care too much
about your aura, a gold, red, or none, the dwarves don't care either.  You
all know what I've said.  Anything necessary to do the job.  We aren't bound
by honor, there'll be no mercy, there'll be no forgiveness. 


I expect blood on your blades, and on your armors.  Some of you won't make
it, but you'll not be forgotten, and you won't have died in vain.  You'll
fall for the price of your choice to defend the Family, the Vallens, with
your life.  Respect, Kyorl. 


The Field of Song was filled with the haunting sounds of every Kyorl's song.
One voice, but all different.  He kept his pace about the circle.  Fight
like Josiuh did.  Fight til you can't raise your sword anymore.  Fight for
those who have no home now.  Fight for your loved ones, and children.  You
will give them no quarter! 


Dron stopped in the middle of the circle, glancing upwards.  'There's a
place for you all, whatever your beliefs are, you'll be in your God's
embrace when this is over. 


Prepare yourselves.  Killin' time is near. 


The eerie sounds of humming grew louder as each Kyorl drew their blades,
raising them to the sky.  The Song grew in intensity, filling the city, and
flowing out into the Vallens.  The Songmaster had to speak above it.  Sing
your Song!  Let the dwarves hear it!  Let the elves of the Vallens hear it!
Let them all know we are here! 


The Song of the Blade, the song that always was, and always present washed
over the kingdom.  The Kyorl were ready. 

Key Change

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[112] Drondon: Key Change
Tue Aug  2 19:25:04 2011
To: Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom All Kyri IMM RP Zandreya
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The elves of the Vallens were all in the circle of Heavens.  The refugees
had been moved to the palace ballroom to accomodate the masses.  Drondon was
called into the circle to give his report.  He walked in slowly, his eyes
filled with a controlled rage.  Kyorl know patience and poise, he'd get his
chance at the scout who took out a good piece of flesh from his arm, or at
least he hoped. 


He gave the full report, then looked around, his eyes rolling into the back
of his head slightly, and slumped to the ground, sliding back against a
Vallen tree.  His blood finally soaking enough through the leater and
chainmail sleeve, trickling to the ground.  Xelin was ordered by Aelthran to
take care of Drondon.  This is going to hurt like the time I kicked you in
the crotch and pulled your hair. 


Xelin grabbed Drondon's wrist, holding tightly, then poured the contents of
the bottle over the deep gash.  Drondon yelled loudly, writhing from the
intense pain.  This was something he never felt before, and it definitely
let him know he was alive. 


The half elf looked up Xelin, and through gritted teeth, a rising chest, and
sweat covered brow mustered I'm goin' to kill that damned dwarf, then I'm
goin' to kick you in the giggleberries.


He stood up slowly, elves' heads were turned to give him the respect and
dignity of letting him be in pain.  He drug his feet as his arm newly
bandaged arm went numb.  The pain in the arm was gone, but he was tired.  He
was angry.  His Song was changing from the events he saw.  All the senses of
his body took everything in.  He was ready to kill, ready to defend his
home, his friends, and family.  He was going to heal, then he was going to
prepare. 


He was going to call on his Kyorl, they were going to have a chat in a few
days. 

Too Close For Comfort

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[111] Drondon: Too Close For Comfort
Tue Aug  2 18:55:57 2011
To: Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom All Kyri IMM RP
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Drondon had just got back from the field and he saw him, the elf that always stood guard at the door, Lanac.  Can I speak to you, Songmaster? 

Oh, this isn't goin' to be good.   Drondon thought.  The Songmaster looked
at Lanac, Lanac back at him with a serious cold expression.  Absolutely. 

They both left the resting pads to speak in quiet. 

I have reports of fire and smoke to the southwest of the Vallens.  Elves
have lost their homes, they are refugees. 

Drondon cut his eyes, his anger through the weeks had just shifted to this
news.  What else? 
Lanac kept his gaze on Drondon.  Dwarves, Sir.  They've cut a path and are
here.  Dwarven scouts have been spotted. 


Drondon called on the elves to prepare the kingdom.  He clinched his jaw,
and called for Jinquil to meet him at the gates.  She was ready for battle.


Many elves saw a different side to him than most.  Only the closest to him
knew that all in all, when it came down to it, he was ready to do anything
for the Vallens, despite feelings of his bloodline. 

He let it be known to all in the Vallens, and elves that those that lost
their homes were to make it to the kingdom.  There would be food, shelter,
and needed comfort.  He ordered his Kyorl to not leave their charges, keep a
vigilant ear and eye open for anything.  The Sha'falas were to be at all
openings at the city, and at the gates, prepared. 

Talik went out to scout for stragglers, Xelin and Aynira tended the refugees
at the temple, healing the wounded, comforting the children.  The Dalars all
came and patrolled, and aided. 

Drondon walked to the city gates, giving a quick nod, accompanied with
silent orders to drop any dwarf sighted, by any means necessary.  Kyorl
didn't have to be bound by a code of honor, just do their job, and he made
sure that his Kyorl did a damn good job. 

He stepped out of the gate, and stood silently next to Jinquil.  She found
something, and he knew it.  She left quickly and with no sound made,
he followed and both rushed the dwarf. 


This dwarf was a large brute, Drondon was already bruised and cut from
previous field battles, but when it came to his home, and elves, he didn't
care how hurt he was.  Drondon didn't get much of the chance to hurt the
dwarf, as he went in for a strike, the axe buried into his arm, bleeding
though the leater and staining the chainmail of his sleeve.  He had to make
a retreat.  He was tired, sore, bloody, but not broken. 

The Dirty Dozen

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[107] Xelin: The Dirty Dozen
Tue Aug  2 13:03:42 2011
To: Shalonesti_Kingdom Shalonesti Imm RP Zandreya Religion
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Xelin stood in front of his soldiers, his cutlass gleaming in the
moonlight. 


'Alright boyo's, it seems as if we're on standby for now, but that does NOT
mean you can go galavanting off to do what you please.  As of this moment
you're on defense duty.  '


He frowned for a moment then continued, making eye contact with each one.


'They're coming from the west, so by the Mother, that's where we'll be.  Oh
yes, boyo's, should they reach our walls we'll meet 'em head on.  They'll
have their bloodlust satisfied by our blades.  '


He stopped, looked at his soldiers and pulled out a tattered cloth.  Walking
up to the standard bearer, he gave the order to bear arms.  A few minutes
later the old crimson and black flag flew from the staff.  The Dirty Dozen
was back in full force. 


'These dwarves are nothing more then animals, boyo's.  They want to try and
puff themselves up, instill fear in us.  But by the Mother be damned,
they'll pay for what they've done.  That's our land out there, Mother
blessed.  It may be that they're desperately wanting to get back at us for
the last war.  They think if they can hole us up, they'll have us.  HA!  We
are not stumps that hide in the ground.  We are ELVES, the forest is our
home.  They are roaches amongst our home.  They will be squashed.  '
Xelin grinned as he drew his blade, holding it up to the sky. 


'THEY WILL NOT BE ALLOWED TO LEAVE!  THEY HAVE KILLED OUR COUSINS.  MEN,
WOMEN, CHILDREN, THEY DO NOT CARE.  OUR FAMILIES THAT WERE LEFT OUT THERE WITHOUT WARNING.  OUR BROTHERS, SISTERS, MOTHERS AND FATHERS.  THEY WILL REGRET THIS GRUDGE!  '


Xelin snapped his collar closed, his grey eyes cold as the steel he bore in
his hand looking westward.  All around him his soldiers gathered, readying
their wicked blades he had once wielded, in fact they were all modeled after
his, he found out. 


'DEATH TO THE STUMPS!  FOR THE VALLEN!  FOR THE MOTHER!  FOR SHALONESTI!  '
they cried into the night air.  One unit, one family, defending another.

Scouting the Forest for Dwarves

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[106] Talik: Scouting the forest for dwarves.
Tue Aug  2 08:29:43 2011
To: Shalonesti Shalonesti_Kingdom Imm (RP)
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Once the meeting was adjourned Talik began preperations to meet Jinquil
near the southern gates of Shalonesti.  Jinquil had already summoned a small
battalion of Elven forces.  Talik spoke briefly with the Senator claiming he
did not wish a large number of elves to accompany him.  Talik picked two
rangers, who were skilled with a bow, and a druid for healing, and skill
with their staff.  Also with his choice came the safety of the three, all
being able to hide quite well in the forest setting that they ventured.
Talik tipped his head to the Senator and all of the brave elves that stood
in ranks, then headed east into the forest. 


As they ventured deeper into the forest, Talik's elven ears could hear the
sounds of chopping, and overall loudness of dwarves.  Though they were still
a great distance away, the stench of dwarves, and flame filled the air.
Talik knew that this was not a good sign.  Talik explained to his party,
that we will not perish this day.  If we are outnumbered, do whatever you
must to escape safely.  The elves agreed. 


The small party crept closer to the large dwarven army, all of the sounds
were much louder now.  Talik sent the quickest ranger of the two to scout
ahead of the group, while Talik and the rest remained hidden.  After 20
minutes the ranger returned.  She told Talik just what he had feared.  This
was an all out battle heading toward Shalonesti.  The dwarves were burning
and chopping and murdering defenseless elves that lived in the deep woods,
and had not received word of the refuge Shalonesti had begun.  Knowing the
slow pace that the dwarves were moving, Talik ordered the rangers, and druid
to split up.  For one hour, find all of the elves living in the deep forest,
and direct them immediately to Shalonesti's gates to seek refuge.  Tell them
that food, shelter, clothes, and toys for the children will be provided.
Just as the elves were about to head on their mission, Talik reminded them
once again.  We do not perish this day, be quick, be safe.  One hour! 
Talik who was already packing light for the trip, flew through the forest to
the south.  Knowing that he could not blend into the surroundings as well as
the rangers, or druid, he had to be fast.  Finding elves scattered within
the forest Talik directed them to Shalonesti Kingdom.  Knowing that the
dwarves would be coming soon, he kept the elves at a relentless pace, even
helping carry the smaller children.  When the hour was up, Talik returned to
the Kingdom's gates.  Where all three members of his party were waiting.

The refugees were taken inside the Kingdom where they would be protected and
cared for.  After a quick debriefing from his party members, Talik went
straight to the Speakers to tell him of his findings.

The First Sparks of War - Sunrise

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[130] Jinquil: The First Sparks of War - Sunrise
Thu Aug  4 23:45:51 2011
To: Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom Thaxanos Wargar All Kyri IMM RP Zandreya
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Shalonesti and the elves within it lived for their continuity.  Everyday,
the first rays of morning light would splinter the horizon to bathe the
forest in a radiant and golden light.  On this particular morning, nothing
in Shalonesti was within the norm.  Soldiers and Kyorl lined the gates,
having been at their stations for the entirety of the previous night that
had passed slowly for every soul within the city.  The sting of the events
from the evening before was reinforced by the soft red glow that blended
with the vivid orange of the sun to paint the sky over the forest and the
city with fire.  The heavy gray plumes of smoke that lingered in the trees
replaced the veil of silver mist usually provided by Shalinastra's falls, a
constant reminder that war was upon them. 

Having chosen the most capable elves for the task at hand, Jinquil repeated
the order the Speaker had given the night before when the elves had gathered
together within the Circle of Heavens.  "Our Speaker was clear, lose one and
we are to return.  This is a mission for scouting only.  Do NOT engage the
enemy for to do so at the moment is suicide.  " She glanced over each elf
that stood before her, nodding more to herself than them before clasping her
hands behind her back and continuing, "I am going to insist on better from
you.  We do not lose ONE.  Not one.  If you sense danger, even a shiver of
it, you return to the city with as much speed as Zandreya can gift you.  "

Talik arrived, glancing over the number of men she had gathered with hesitation
before he chose three and made his way off into the forest to begin his
scouting.  Chosing three of her own to accompany her, she continues her
orders, "You three will join me in scouting.  The rest of you are to cover
the ground immediately surrounding the city.  I want you fireproofing ever
vallen you can reach without endangering yourself.  Do what you can and
return to the city before nightfall.  " With that, she gave the men and
women gathered a crisp salute and once the gesture is returned by all fades
into the labyrinth of the vallenwoods. 

The day of scouting was long and arduous.  Jinquil and the other three elves
crept to the south through the forest, studying the dwarven army from the
shelter of the mother's trees.  It was indeed an entire battalion and no
light raiding party.  Cutting and burning their way through the forest, the
dwarves headed towards Shalonesti with no remorse for the destruction they
left behind them.  Circling around the dwarven forces to avoid detection,
Jinquil and her small group of scouts picked their way back along the
ancient vallens that lined the coast.  It was this route that drew Jinquil's
thoughts elsewhere. 

The sky in the area of the forest that sheltered the Dalar family home was
thick with angry black smoke.  Jinquil returned to the city with haste,
striding through the gates with her team as the sun's departure once again
faded the sky to colors of cobalt and crimson.  Her feet carried her quickly
to the palace ballroom that housed the refugees and she passed quietly and
mostly unnoticed amongst them.  Several wept still, each face holding a
shock and desolation that made Jinquil's heart swell. 

After several trips around the large room, it was more than obvious.  Her
parents were not among the refugees.  They had not yet made it to the safety
of the city.  Turning from the room, Jinquil went to find her older sister,
Llorana, her mind already forming a plan. 


Llorana - Awaiting the Dawn

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[120] Llorana: Awaiting the Dawn
Wed Aug  3 03:18:38 2011
To: Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom Thaxanos Wargar Kyri - Imm RP Zandreya ALL
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The smell of ash was like a fine dust upon a breeze that promised
something so much worse.  And off in the distance, as the threads of night
settled upon the elven kingdom, an ever constant glow - as red as blood -
promising the war that had sat like an itch in the palm of every soldier who
had lifted their blades against the dwarves in the past. 

There was a hush, a baited silence, upon the emerald city.  From the Temple,
the sounds of faint weeping could be heard and a fearful undertone struck
with the first hints of the rightous anger that would hopefully carry the
displaced elves. 

Dusk's pale glimmer would have been beautiful that evening, but for the
taint of ash and flame.  Rows of guards stood before her.  Men and women who had stood before the gates, had patrolled the markets and the streets, keeping the peace.  It had
been years since many of these elves had seen the sort of battle that was
headed their way, but lowering her gaze from the pale sky, she looked upon
them and saw no trace of uncertainty.  They were ready for what was coming.
"I am your liason.  Your orders will come through me when the Senator is
otherwise absorbed by pressing matters."

She could feel the weight of command settling again, as it had before the
fifty that she had lead through the last war.  She found herself missing
those elves as she gazed upon the guards before her.  She wouldn't be
leading these ones into battle but keeping the city protected this time
might turn out to be a very bloody affair.  They had to be prepared. 
Orders were issued, questions were answered. 

The dwarves were cutting a swath through the forest, their intent was
clearly the city.  They would show no mercy, they would destroy and despoil
anything they came across that was elven.  They -could not- get into the
city.  Meanwhile, refugees were trickling in at a steady pace and they would
need places to stay, food, water, blankets and clothing. 

When all was said and done, full dark had descended upon the majestic elven
city and a foreboding had taken root in her. 

Elves bearing the crest of every House in Shalonesti moved with purpose.
Groups of soldiers in Sha'falas livery marched down the main thoroughfare
and lights remained lit.  There was hope in what she saw, but there was also
anger.  A thing that danced in the eyes of everyone she saw, that tightened
their shoulders and stiffened their backs. 

She felt herself drawn into it as she moved silently, the guards dispersed.
She knew she wouldn't be able to sleep, not knowing that her parents had not
been counted amongst the influx of refugees, so she went to the stables to
make ready her steed and await the arrival of Jinquil. 


Dawn couldn't come fast enough.

Sunday, March 20, 2011

Llorana: Focus

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[ 11] Llorana: Focus
Fri Jan 14 23:47:38 2011
To: Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom ( Kwars )
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The parchment was deceptively simple in what it proclaimed but she knew
that beneath it all, it wasn't so.  Not at all. 


She'd been approached by a royal page, asked a question, to which she had
hesitated even though she knew the answer.  It was yes.  Of course it was
yes.  It was the timing, perhaps, that caught her a little off guard. 


Some people were made for war, some people were bred to it.  For some, that
held them, was their purpose.  This would be hers.  It had chosen her, in
many ways.  She liked to think she had not been intended for such things but
the deeper she trudged back through her life, the clearer it became.  Always
striving for adventure, never satisfied until she'd met her match and
overcome it.  Finding trouble or being found by it.  Thinking these thoughts
no more than a few hours ago, it was as if someone had known. 

Thus her fingers had hestiated with quill poised over the page, already
stamped with two official looking seals; one of Sha'falas and one of Kyorl.

She didn't understand why, even now thinking back on it.  If she knew her
path with such certainty, then why? 


Why hesitate? 

The question ate at her until she could no longer sit still and was drawn
from her meditations to meet old Jarri with sword to hand. 


The older elf, perhaps respecting the emotional boundries she had thrown up,
met her with quiet understanding and before long, the ringing sound of sword
play filled the Grove of Song. 


She burned it out of her, slowly but surely.  Muscles aching, lean body
coated with sweat, a dozen bruises decorating various parts of her where
Jarri hadn't spared her an inch.  Her hair had come free of its braids just
enough to lend a look of greater dishevelment. 


"You are young yet" Jarriantias intoned softly when they were done, when the
haunt had calmed, "As so many others are.  Remember this when you are alone,
when you work alongside your fellow Kyorl and when you take to the field of
battle.  Your personal feelings are not as important as the task.  Remain

focused."

It was good advice.  She did know better.  It was hard - the hardest thing
she had ever had to do yet perhaps - but she knew it was necessary.  The
question then was; How did one become that hard without sacrificing who they
were? 


She knew that was what old Jarri wanted her to figure out.  There were no
upfront answers.  Each Kyorl made their own path or fell upon it. 


A shake of her head set the difficult question to the background for the
moment and after sheathing her sword, she grabbed up a towel and headed out
of the groves, not quite able to muster her usual cheer but all the better
for the exercise. 


She would be back with her elven squad in no time, but she had a distinct
feeling that the field of battle would be a great deal changed from what she
had experienced before the Mountain

Llorana: Familial Obligations: Endurance

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[ 10] Llorana: Familial Obligations: Endurance
Thu Jan 13 03:23:26 2011
To: Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom ( Nianica Jinquil Azaros Aelthran )
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The soft, not ungentle, laughter of her mother followed and lightly did
she place her hand upon Llorana's head.  Striving, perhaps, to comfort her
daughter who had never sought it before. 


"No, dear child.  " Came the response eventually and Llorana found that she
was watching the slant of the sunlight.  "If you three have taught me
anything, it would be that no matter what prediction or demand I've set upon
any of you, you're bound and determined to go your own road - above and
beyond.  You three have proven that I am wrong.  "


Silence then, inundated with the gentle salt-scented brush of the breeze
upon the edge of dusk's fading light. 


"I say a lot of things, Llorana.  " The quiet tone of her mother had
changed.  So much had changed in so little time it seemed.  "But all three
of you have challenged me in your own ways.  What I've said to you in the
past has been said to your siblings in different ways."


"You've all disappointed me and...  " -when her mother trailed off, Llorana
took the moment to lift her head, to look at her mother through similar
green eyes- "made me more proud than any mother has ever been for her
children."

It was then that her mother, quick as ever, looked down to note the absense
of a ring upon Llorana's finger and a sort of pain passed through the older
elf's eyes.  Llorana was unprepared for the touch of her mother's hand upon
her cheek - the same cheek she had slapped perhaps months earlier. 

"I raised strong daughters.  " She murmured.  "But nothing prepares you for
this path but setting foot upon it." -she used her other hand to pat the
stone bench beside her- "Sit with me then and we'll see if I still have a
mothers touch."

                                  * * * *
Much later, Llorana sat alone in the star-lit night, gazing up at a sky that
seemed too full of stars and entirely too far away.  She hadn't been
prepared for gentleness, for understanding or comfort, but no tears kissed

her cheeks.  She had seen and done too many difficult things to shed tears
for herself.  She didn't deserve such a thing yet. 


Instead, she drew a sword from its sheath with a sound as of a single harp's
string plucked, and set its tip to the soft ground.  The haunt that came
forth, as her fingers slowly wrapped around the hilt, was changed.  It held
sorrow and joy in equal measures at first, and when it finally swept her
away, it contained only the enduring strength she had assured herself she
had. 

Llorana - Familial Obligations: Change

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[  9] Llorana: Familial Obligations: Change
Thu Jan 13 03:03:40 2011
To: Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom ( Nianica Jinquil Azaros Aelthran )
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It took longer to reach her parent's summer home on the coast than usual,
as she couldn't seem to muster much more than a dismal canter out of her
steed.  The creature seemed almost as exausted as she and, patting its
luxurious mane, she had silently commiserated with the elegant elven beast.

The idea was alone time.  It felt as if a long span had passed between the
unveiling of their Kyorl paths, their fiances... 


A deep sigh left her lips and as she rode up the earthen path, bracketed by
tall trees weeping emerald leaves, she let the memories pass through her
like dreams through a dream catcher.  Only, the threaded patterns didn't
filter the bad dreams, didn't catch the good ones.  It let them all go. 

The gentle resonating melody of a wind chime caught at her ears as she
dismounted slowly, grimacing at the strain of muscles that had been abused
for months.  She strove past the discomfort though and went about removing
her pack from the saddle before she lead the beatiful steed to the nearly

empty stables nearby.  There were two horses amongst the stalls, brushed and
at ease.  It made her frown, then sigh again.  It was probably the staff but
who knew? 

Shaking her head, she grabbed up a brush and after setting the saddle of her
horse aside, she went through the strangely meditative process of brushing
the pale coat until it gleamed.  It didn't lift her mood, which she had come
out here to visit by herself, but it did settle her and it was in a quiet,
contemplative state that she found her way later into the gardens. 

All the vibrant flowers were in full bloom.  Her mother had made something
of a hobby of it when they were children and traveling from city to city,
village to village.  The marigolds, the roses of many color and scent, the
violets, the lilies - the herbs that gave off calming scents.. 

Stepping into the center of the garden, wherein stood the ancient stone
gazebo crawling with white and red roses, she spied the only person who
could have made her feel simultaniously worse and better.  And striding
slowly toward the woman dressed in a strangely subdued style, she knelt to
set her head upon her mother's lap. 


"Have you come to bring me more weighty news, daughter?  " The tone was cool
but tired.  So tired. 


"No, mother.  " She whispered softly, hearing a new sort of weight in her
own voice that made her grimace.  "I came to be alone but, now that you're
here, I've come to tell you that you're right.  You've always been right
about me."

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Azaros - Family

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[ 89] Azaros: Family
Sat Nov 6 22:43:10 2010
To: Jinquil Drondon Nianica Yaviel
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"The Lady knows, they do as they please. "

The words practically brought back his rather impish self, before he lowered
his head with a faint smile playing at the edge of his lips. Always such a
pleasure, this table. Azaros' back was straight. He was uncomfortable.
And yet, all he could think of were dinners with his mother. Or that spare
visit from his father, Yakei.

Ill'antha had been colder to him than any, but she had also taught him the
refinement required of his family. Luhta'zair. It was more than a mere
surname. It was a curse and a blessing. Straightening, Azaros swept a hand
through his hair, drawing it back against his skull, highlighting the lines
and edges of his angular face before letting it fall back across his
features.

Running a tongue across the pointed canines decorating his mouth, Azaros
glanced from Drondon to Llorana and back again before averting his eyes,
shielding them from his mother-in-law with long locks of pink-and-crimson
tinged bangs. He had sworn all sorts of vile things to Drondon, the ways he
was going to make this trip hell for him. That wasn't something he could
bring himself to do.

The slap had taken him back. Reminded of a time where cold stone walls and
his skull had met forcefully, after a few too many choice words directed his
mother's way. That had been the day he'd had her remanded into custody on a
whim. A childish whim, at that. And now she lay dead, a cold ghost of her
former self. Yet a self-righteous one. Still, she haunted those who knew
her, whether they realized it or not.

Another look at his wife, Jinquil. A small, stunted smile as he considered
her facial features before reaching out to place a hand atop her shoulder,
lightly brushing the skin behind her ear with his thumb. This was a Home.
It was a Family. Perhaps his dead mother was the end of the "Luhta'zair
curse." Perhaps the name could be respected again.

His head lifted and Azaros' grey-green eyes fixated on his mother-in-law,
ever-watching, mostly silent.

Drondon - Dinner Time

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[ 81] Drondon: Dinner Time
Wed Nov 3 15:39:57 2010
To: Llorana Jinquil Nianica Azaros Yaviel
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Drondon quickly blinked in shock. He witnessed the Dalar sisters' mother
give a firm and surely a rightfully so, stinging slap to his future wife's
cheek.

Holy Mother! He thought, trying to make the awe and shock disappear from
his countenance. He learned through training, and being about the Vallens
that sometimes it's best not to speak, and he definetly didn't want to face
their mother's wrath.

He winced some, seeing the rosy color coming to Llorana's cheek. He felt
bad, wanted to give her a kiss on the cheek, but now was not the time. He
heard Llorana introduce him to the slapper of Dalars. The matriarch's eyes
and his met, locked in an icy stare. The stare of a predator that doesn't
take it's focus of it's prey. He felt them searing a hole into his soul
almost. He held steady, a slight grin came over his face, but nothing
that'd be to noticeable. Silence was all that evident in the room. His
ears picked up the faint traces of the others breathing.

It seemed that time had stopped, all was still, the only thing moving was
the sisters' mother towards Drondon. Oh dear sweet Mother of Nature. She's
coming to kill me.

She took a graceful, regal step towards him and placed a kiss on his cheek.
Her lips were cold against his flesh. Drondon wondered if she actually had
blood pumping through her veins. She muttered somewhat loudly so the others
could hear,

"If you are good enough for my daughter, then you are welcome amongst this
family."

Her attention turned to Jinquil and Azaros sitting at the table. She added,
"The Lady knows, they do as they please."

Drondon looked over at Llorana, he gave a her a comforting and reassuring
smile. Saying he was sorry without speaking it to her. Standing beside
her, he made the decision that he'd endure hell for her, and endure her
mother. He couldn't have been more happy to do so.

He was the Songmaster, leader of the Kyorl, the sworn protectors of the
Royal House of the Vallens. He had seen many battles. At that moment, he
prepared himself for battle. A battle agaisnt the dragon, the dragon that
was Llorana's mother. He would slay her with kindness. A tiny grin crossed
his lips, Azaros was there. He could throw him to the wolf that was the
Dalar matriarch if needed. A low growl emitted from him stomach. He could
smell food being cooked.

Familial Obligation (Part 3 of 3)

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[ 84] Llorana: Familial Obligation (3/3)
Wed Nov 3 17:03:27 2010
To: Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom Nianica Drondon Jinquil Azaros (storynote chain)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Llorana braced herself for the sting of her mother's slap, nearly
flinching in anticipation, but was taken completely off guard when the
similarly sized elf simply wrapped her arms around her and hugged her hard.

Drondon had stepped off to the side, looking almost as surprised as Llorana
felt, but not quite.

'Mother..?' Llora ventured once the stunned silence had settled. This was
followed promptly by the sharp sound of her mother's hand meeting Llora's
cheek.

'Don't ever worry me like that again, My'iat Koehith Llorana Tahl'aera
Dalar!'

She resisted the urge to touch the stinging spot on her cheek even while she
reeled at the full use of her name (which mother had never used before) and
instead looked to the table, where Nianica was already sitting. She had a
small apologetic smile upon her face and was pointing to her own reddened
cheek. It stung, it was embarrassing, but Llora couldn't help smiling
apologetically at her mother. The hug had softened the blow considerably.

'I'm sorry mother.'

And like that, it was as if a switch had been turned on. Her mother smiled,
her gaze a little moist and turned to Drondon.

'Mother, may I introduce Drondon Statheson-Lethwin'las. Regent of the
Sha'qelas and Songmaster under Speaker Talyariel Shalonost' -hesitation
followed only a beat before she finished- 'My fiance'

She wasn't sure what she expected but all she could do was stand and watch
the odd face-off. Drondon trying to be polite and steady under her mother's
dragon gaze while the stiff countenance of the woman wasn't willing to give
an inch.

Llorana thought the silence would never end, but when it finally did it was
at their mother's behest. She moved forward, kissed Drondon's cheek and
muttered for everyone to hear, 'If you are good enough for my daughter, then
you are welcome amongst this family'

'The Lady knows' -and she turned her gaze on Jinquil and Azaros sitting at
the table- 'they always do as they please.'

It was at least one quip she knew her mother couldn't have lived without that
evening.

Familial Obligation (Part 2 of 3)

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[ 83] Llorana: Familial Obligation (2/3)
Wed Nov 3 16:19:48 2010
To: Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom Nianica Drondon Jinquil Azaros (storynote chain)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As night fell on the cottage, the many tasteful torches that dotted the
estate were lit, casting the whole sprawling length of it in flickering,
majestic shadow that spurred the imagination to think of a mystical evening
full of intrigue and wonder.

Llorana quietly wished they could bypass the whole uncomfortable,
disapproving part that was bound to arise but she was resigned to it at this
point. She knew her mother entirely too well to assume anything might
possibly be different.

The thought made her look down, at the elegant dress she had chosen. It had
been something her mother bought for her long ago. All slender and sleek,
accentuating her height, her shape and the emerald of her eyes. It was dark
green with emerald embroidery. It fell in a loose assortment of bunched
cloth around her chest, revealing more than she was comfortable with but
allowing the long fall of the tasteful gold necklace with its tassled
emeralds to be fully viewed. Tall slender boots to match, visible through
slits up along either leg and an emerald diadem holding the rather simple
bun hairstyle she'd settled for. It let the locks beneath the bun fall to
cover her back, which was open from shoulder to shoulder and fell down a
little too far for comfort - again.

She was the picture of elegance that her mother had always wanted and she
held to some hope that it would please her mother just a little. It was the
least she could do, considering everything she had to explain...

That made her look over at Drondon as he slipped out of his portion of her
bedroom suite. He was pulling a little uncertainly at a cuff of his suit,
looking very smart indeed, which inevitably brought an easy smile to her
lips. He stopped short though when he looked up at her and his eyes got a
little wide. She just shook her head and moved to slip her arm through the
crook of his elbow.

They didn't have far to walk, during which they shared some low spoken words
about what more he could possibly expect from her high born mother. He
struck her as remarkably calm and composed considering how nervous she felt,
but having him with her was very much like a breath of fresh air. She
couldn't imagine not having him in her life...

Feeling a greater sense of nervousness overcome her, she found herself
gazing out at the shadows though the effort of trying to see beyond the
flickering flames of the many torches was silly. Any night vision, even
infrared, was useless now. Instead, she let out a long calming breath,
squared her shoulders and managed to gather her confidence as she and
Drondon paced out onto the raised green granite patio and the heavily
adorned table, already sitting the majority of its occupants.

Her father - blessed Lady it was good to see him! - dark of hair and
complexion, was seated at the head of the table dressed in his very best.
Everything about him seemed to point to Jinquil and her darker looks, which
was brought home again as she stopped to stare at him. She was immediately
struck by his welcoming smile but his eyes told a cautionary tale as they
shifted only a fraction to indicate her mother, who was even then rising
from her chair.

She was every inch the highborn pure blooded Shalonesti elf. From the long
golden hair to the slender form garbed in soft flowing yellow and gold. Her
eyes were emerald and when they fell upon her, Llora felt her tension
skyrocket. Flinty, cold, uncompromising. The woman was angry and had been
for some time.

...and she was walking toward her!

Familial Obligation (Part 1 of 3)

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[ 82] Llorana: Familial Obligation (1/3)
Wed Nov 3 16:14:06 2010
To: Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom Nianica Drondon Jinquil Azaros (storynote chain)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The 'summer' cottage seemed more a work of elven art to Llorana's eye.

It was a sprawling manor, one floor, with multiple wings. She could see
pale lavender silk curtains wafting in the tall arched windows and beyond,
she could hear the sound of the sea against the cliff. Pale dark green
pillars bracketed the inner courtyard and between each stretched elegant
arches embroidered with gold and emerald. Within she knew that the reading
room, the dining room, the study and even the bedrooms were furnished with
high quality vallenwood, cherrywood and wicker.

Sighing quietly, Llorana glanced away from the cottage to the thick of the
Vallenwood forest beyond. The sun was going down over the sea and the
shadows were lengthening but the shading that touched the cottage was
beautiful, inspiring. It was one of the things she loved about this place
in particular, aside from the secret grove and the paths she and her sisters
had made in their forest backyard.

Lots of memories here, though it had quite often been a place of
punishment...for her anyway. That thought made her smile. There'd been
next to nothing worse for her than being made to settle down. Cities
offered her the ability to run wild. This place had made her stop and
breathe.

Caught up in all her nostalgia she about failed to notice the presence of
Drondon as he came up beside her. The touch of his hand to her back served
as gentle comfort, even though it nearly made her jump, and she turned her
head to smile crookedly at him. He matched her smile though he was gentler
about.

'So this is it?' He asked while looking out over the estate, to which she
nodded slowly. They were both nervous and there'd been no sign of anyone
else yet. She desperately didn't want her and Drondon to be the first on
scene.

'This is it' She replied very softly and then started the inevitable trek
toward the door, her attention shifting longingly to the long many-windowed
hallway that lead to the southern most wing. She'd had ways to get in and
out that alerted no one, which was what she wanted to do. She let it go
though and lead Drondon to the front door, taking a moment to look him over
before they knocked.

The trip had taken them three days by horseback and they were both dirty,
sore and tired but he was in high spirits as always. He smiled consolingly
at her and lifted his hand to knock on the tall arched door, surprising her.
It was dark green with gold and emerald embroidery, displaying a crest of
the Dalar family below a tall, elegant vallenwood tree in dark delicate
tones.

She had to bolster her resolve while they waited and by the time the door
open, she was ready, but she was met with a very different response as a
petite elf rushed out and grabbed her up in a hug, nearly squeeling!
Looking up from the familiar head of blond hair she found an equally
familiar wisened smile and her misgivings eased and she wrapped her arms
around the form squeezing her for her she was worth.

'Little Llora' Faewen, their 'nanny' spoke her name warmly. 'I couldn't
contain my daughter. Jai'ryn has missed you all dearly.'

Drondon was glancing askance at her. She tried to set him at ease with a
smile and whispered, 'I'll explain later'

'The lady and lord of the manor are resting from the long trip.' Faewen
continued as she gestured them all into the cottage and began leading the
way down the flowing corridors lined with art that could easily be
considered ancient and priceless. With much relief, she noted that the
elder elf was leading her to her own wing of the estate. 'They advised that
you take some time to refresh. Dinner is not for awhile yet and Jini has
not arrived.

Saturday, June 2, 2007

A Last Resort

Jinquil: A Last Resort
Sat Jun 2 23:25:23 2007
To: Shalonesti_kingdom Shalonesti Imm RP ( Nianica Llorana Azaros Evandim )
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Emerald light reflects through the clear crystal of the wine glass she holds tightly between her fingers. The light dances across her face, to catch with an occasional glint in the emeralds that accent the gathered strands of her dark hair. Jinquil tilts her head, for all intents and purposes appearing oblivious to the sheer stress that flows through the room. Her eyes scan the silver twine of the fork near her plate with some interest. The fingers of her free hand toy with the golden lace that accents the waist of the silk pants that loosely cover her long legs, drifting to straighten the equally golden sleeve of her blouse. She perches stiffly on the edge of her chair, directly next to her mother. The closeness fills her with a wary apprehension, though her mother seems currently occupied in a battle of wills with her sister.


She casts a soft frown at Nianica, mentally making note that she owes her sister for choosing the seating arrangements that left her so close to her mother's possible assault. Though not afraid of the largest axe wielding dwarf, she had no wish to face her mother's wrath or her knitting needle anytime in the recent future. A soft smirk plays upon her lips, her fingers itch to draw Llorana, sitting there so uncomfortable in that contraption everyone calls a gown. The forest green thing is low cut, form-fitting and someone even had the gall to embroider it with golden flowers. Her eyes meet Llorana's and she smiles sympathetically before letting her gaze drift away.

Jinquil snorts, the rigid set of her spine the only outward sign that she's aware of the conversation between her sister and her mother. She casts occasional glances across the table to Azaros, to it's head at her father who studies her in return, his brow arching as he flicks a gaze to Azaros and back to her curiously. He remains silent, letting the conversation between mother and daughter play out without interference. Obviously knowing when to keep his silence.

"No. " The crisp word draws Jinquil's eyes sharply to her mother's face. "I raised daughters who wish to throw their futures away to bloodshed and death. "


The stem of glass snaps between her fingers, spilling wine that spreads in a crimson stain as it seeps into the fine linen covering the long table. A sliver of glass pierces the tip of her finger and she drops the shattered remnants onto a nearby plate, bringing her offended digit to her lips with alight hiss of air.

Jinquil sinks back in her chair as Llorana leans forward on the table, her eyes intent on their mother's face. "This is our last chance mother. There may not ever be time for another. Is this truly how you want us to leave this home? With your bitterness ringing in our ears as we battle for Shalonesti and everything it stands for? "

"No.. " The subdued whisper draws Jinquil's gaze from Llorana's face to her mother's. Her mother's eyes meet hers and Jinquil blinks in surprise at the tears.. Real and actual.. Tears that fill their dark depths. She opens her mouth to speak, though no words form.

Her father reaches out, his hand covers his's wife's own on the table, stilling her with a touch and speaks consolingly, "Dear... Do not forget we've also raised three beautiful, brave daughters who are paragons of what is elven. " He smiles reassuringly, "Remember, their love for us and Shalonesti is reason enough for them to take up and defend those whom they love. If we've to choose which elves represent the best of Shalonesti, I can think of no better choices than our daughters. "

He turns to his daughters, eyes touching each of their faces in turn, remembering the children each had once presented in a way only a father could. He casts a disarming smile. "Is it true you all lead a batallion or unit? "
All three daughters nod, relaxing only a small degree with the question. Jinquil's father sighs faintly, turning his assessing gaze to Azaros. "And which battalion do you lead? "

Friday, June 1, 2007

Kwars: Night Sky

Posted by Llorana
Fri Apr 27 15:08:12 2007


The night sky was beautiful and as she lay on her back, attempting to catch her breath, she realized she didn't stop often enough to appreciate such simple things.

The moment passed in a blink though and then she was rolling out of the way of another strike from her opponent's ratan blade. A peal of triumphant laughter left her lips when he spun to catch her, only to feel the lash of her ratan blade along his side as she came up from the ground.

"Close, Garan." She laughed while patting his shoulder companionably.

The others who had gathered around to watch were all smiling and cajoling Garan now. It was heartwarming and it was what she wanted. Nerves and tensions had been high since they'd started marching, she felt it was important that they remember to smile.

Garan sighed, favoring his side now and bowed his head to Llorana who chuckled and motioned him up.

"I'm all for bowing and saluting when its proper, Garan," she said, "but not now. I think its time for a bit of rest."

Looking to her soldiers, she gave off a list of commands. Some were to return to Shalonesti for an hour or two, others were to relieve scouts but the majority were to seek their rest. They still had a long way to go. She smiled as she watched them all disperse and settled her ratan blade back upon its rack, acutely feeling her aches and pains. She made it a point to train as often as her infantry, if not more so.

Looking at the sky again, she marveled at the beauty of the stars - and nearly missed her sisters passing by! They were all so busy these days, no time to stop and chat, which was unfortunate but she could understand. Standing here, staring at the sky was a form of her own procrastination and with a deep breath she turned around and began heading back to her own tent where - no doubt - a stack of parchments awaited her with varying requests,
conflicts and needs.

While she walked, she considered her Sha'falas duties and the run-in she had been apart of the day before with the curious warlock and his enslaved cat. Never a dull moment in my life! She caught herself thinking and quite abruptly, found herself interested in something else.

Deviating from her original path, following a faint sound, she scaled a gently sloping hill and nearly stumbled upon a small number of Kyorl in the process of training... as far as she could tell. She thought she recognized a few faces but the shadows were deep and she honestly did not
linger, though she found herself quite mesmerized by their slow, thought-out movements.

Feeling oddly humbled but still curious, she made her way back down the hill and didn't give in to any more bouts of curiosity.

Training

Posted by Jinquil
Tue Apr 17 12:05:02 2007

The edge of the wood was burning. Thick smoke loomed, blocking out the better part of the sunlight above. The scent burned the nostrils even as the smoke filled each mouth with a sooty taste and caused eyes to sting and water. Her archers stood, each hidden in one section of the wood. Beside her, a young archer named Eertae stood at her side. With a slight wave of her hand, Jinquil shifted one illusion into the other.

A snarl filled the air and a dwarf, fully armored and swinging a rather large axe appeared into the forest. It rushed Eertae suddenly, appearing out of no where. Though the elf had his bow at ready, he swirled, lashing out with his foot to catch the dwarf directly in the face. He whirled once more, using his bow to sweep the dwarf off of his feet. The dwarf hit the ground and vanished.

With a sigh, Jinquil canceled the illusion. She narrowed her eyes, studying Eertae silently for a long heavy moment. "We're supposed to be doing archery training here, Eertae. " The mild rebuke in her tone was belied by the smile on her face.

"Sorry, Commander. I could not resist. " He said with a chuckle.

Jinquil laughed, unable to keep herself from doing so and stood, dropping the illusion she had held for the better part of the day. The flames vanished. The heavy smoke cleared instantly. She turned away from Eertae to face the places where her archers hid. "Alright, we're done for now. Tomorrow we do more rugged terrain. Return to your tents. " Moving from tree and brush, the archers filed back to their assigned sleeping quarters.

Though they were tired from the day's training, the excitement that each felt filled the air with crackling tension. Jinquil returned to her tent, Eertae following behind to tie back the flaps before she entered. Standing at the wooden table, a middle-aged elven man waited for her.

Jinquil approached him, bowing her head respectfully. "Nietual.. " She murmured her greeting, patting his shoulder firmly before glancing at the small bundle he carried. "What have you for me? "

Nietual laid the bundle upon the table and unrolled it. Firelight reflected off the metallic surfaces of the etched arrowheads within. Jinquil picked one up, testing the weight of it in her palm.

The arrowhead was not like any other she had seen before. Holding it up to the light, she studied the razor sharp point that gave way to equally sharped ridges. "They look like leaves... " Jinquil mused silently before turning to cast a pleased smile at the elven man beside her. "Excellent
work, Nietual. " She pressed her finger to the tip as she spoke, nodding once more in satisfaction as she lifted her finger to her mouth and sucked the blood from the tip. "Excellent work, Indeed. "

The golden haired elf chuckled deeply, turning his gray eyes to study her as she addressed him. "I did tell you I was the best Arrowsmith in the Vallen, Commander. " He paused a moment, studying the object in her hand. "I designed them as you requested. They should pierce just about any type of armor those dwarves could think up. "

Jinquil nodded silently, walking from the tent to study the other nine elves that moved to and fro outside. She studied them for a long moment, watching them laugh with the soldiers they would be traveling with. "Do we have enough, Nietual? " The elf moved to stand just behind her, letting his eyes roam over his fellow archers. "Aye, Commander. We have enough to last us
through two wars. We'll not fail, Commander. "