Vithkun Almear
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 437
Age: 84
Physical Description: Vithkun is a tall guy extending about 1.9 m in height and has long flowing white hair as is often seen in his family. He would appear to be around 30 years of age.
Clothes and Equipment: He is royalty and likes to show it which is why he wears a thing braided silver band on his head which value can likely not be descriped in mere numbers. In his travels he will go for his plated armor, one which is both extremely light and quite durable, enabling him to retain much of his agility. For more formal matters he prefers robes in various colors and patterns.
He carries his sword with him most of the time and it is a slim long sword forged by the elves. The metal - like his armor - is hard but light and the sharpness of its edge knows few peers. He carries a dagger of similar quality too.
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:46:39 GMT -8
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Post by Vithkun Almear on Apr 1, 2019 13:32:01 GMT -8
The sweetness of the lips touching and their tongues connecting was sweeter than any nectar, any song or any star Vithkun had ever experienced in High Haven. Having her this close was pure bliss and opposed to the time with the dwarfs it felt exactly right. It felt like he could shed any fear or doubt right now... But then it ended. Not by lack of air while drowning in each other but by the will enacted by the drow.
"Myra..?" he asked perplexed feeling her palms putting distance between them yet again. What had gone wrong? How was it, that when he was ready and sure she wasn't? Of course she was right, he was betrothed to his fiancee - at least that was what he had made her believe. "Myra... Myra..!" he said trying to get her attention smiling at her words but saddened by her expression. "She is indeed my betrothed... but in High Haven one can be betrothed to many at the same time and only the one proving him or herself worthy will marry this person. She is not chosen by my love but by the throne!" he said firmly trying to explain things as clear cut as he was able to while his feelings were in such disarray.
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Myralthrine Host
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 478
Age: 56
Physical Description: Avatar is accurate, 5'6 height.
Clothes and Equipment: Wanderers cloak in a material resembling vantablack in that it does not appear to be a real color. Beneath it she generally wears black leather boots to her knee, charcoal breeches and shirt, both fitted, and black bracers upon her forearms. She carries a morningstar upon her hip and satchel that crosses over her shoulder and chest.
Allegiances: None
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:13:41 GMT -8
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Post by Myralthrine Host on Apr 1, 2019 16:03:21 GMT -8
Her grief was meant to be rather quickly extinguished by his explanation and his joy took her aback. Rather when he smiled she shifted her position hands dropping from his chest to his forearms keeping him literally at arm's length by the action for he could not lean forward without them moving. Watching him as he spoke he smiled with such glee like it solved everything and yet it did not.
"So therefore if you want to ascend to the throne you will have to marry this woman that was chosen to be the future Queen?"
It did not take much to clarify that question, a simple yes or no. Vithkun was quite set on obtaining the throne. It had been proven quickly by his earlier words about his commitment to the cause of finding the jewel itself. How many times had he attempted to talk her out of it, offered her coins or some other trinket she might find worthy in return, how often had he simply put on a front in order to achieve his goals. Was she gifted enough to pick apart the truth from the falsehoods he had shown her? Right now, here, in the dark he had shared so openly and she felt this was truly who he was but who was she to deny him what his birthright was?
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Vithkun Almear
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 437
Age: 84
Physical Description: Vithkun is a tall guy extending about 1.9 m in height and has long flowing white hair as is often seen in his family. He would appear to be around 30 years of age.
Clothes and Equipment: He is royalty and likes to show it which is why he wears a thing braided silver band on his head which value can likely not be descriped in mere numbers. In his travels he will go for his plated armor, one which is both extremely light and quite durable, enabling him to retain much of his agility. For more formal matters he prefers robes in various colors and patterns.
He carries his sword with him most of the time and it is a slim long sword forged by the elves. The metal - like his armor - is hard but light and the sharpness of its edge knows few peers. He carries a dagger of similar quality too.
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:46:39 GMT -8
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Post by Vithkun Almear on Apr 1, 2019 23:14:14 GMT -8
The explanation Vith offered her was true, but even he himself had not yet pondered its consequences and it struck him like a fist hearing it come from her mouth. Just a few moments ago that was but a theoretical problem and he had been ready to stay inside that cave with Myra until the last of his days - keeping their taint and forgetting all about the jewel. It was such a naive sentiment.
"Yes." Vithkun replied reluctantly now understanding fully what kind of situation he was in. If he chose the throne, he would not get Myra. If he chose to pass on the throne, Myra would likely not have him for abandoning his duty and destiny. "Yes it is true that my path - and your path - is evidently set to divide when all this is done." Vithkun said as his heart grew heavy for the burden it was to once again have to deny his true feelings and face the cold facts - but this time it was different. He knew he could not just stop these emotions but had no clue how to change his situation - although a fire of revolt towards this whole mess was starting to slowly ignite inside him.
"We... better go get some sleep for the night." he said with a soft but tormented smile as he briefly brushed her cheek and nodded towards the shore.
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Myralthrine Host
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 478
Age: 56
Physical Description: Avatar is accurate, 5'6 height.
Clothes and Equipment: Wanderers cloak in a material resembling vantablack in that it does not appear to be a real color. Beneath it she generally wears black leather boots to her knee, charcoal breeches and shirt, both fitted, and black bracers upon her forearms. She carries a morningstar upon her hip and satchel that crosses over her shoulder and chest.
Allegiances: None
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:13:41 GMT -8
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Post by Myralthrine Host on Apr 2, 2019 11:05:41 GMT -8
Divide because of poor decisions on both parts, she thought. It was not a relief to know they would be separated, rather the opposite, for the past four weeks and been the greatest of her life. Despite the danger and plotting and his rather annoying countenance at first she knew that after this she would be lost for a time. Returning to help Annonnai might ease some of her pain but not relieve it fully for it would take decades to forget all that she had lost in such a short period.
“That’s probably for the best,” he touched her cheek and she wanted so badly to take the hand that did so, to pull it downward and him closer and to forget their problems until the morning. Frankly it would have been the easiest approach for the moment but much harder to know what more she lost from it.
Retreating to the shore they had not spent long in the pools but their clothes seemed to have been dried spectacularly by the dryer heat on land. Drawing back on everything but boots and socks for they were still quite soaked they bedded own for the night. The ground was hard but her heart was growing harder at the tasks before them. They laid not much distance from one another in the darkness but the silence was quite more deafening and more distance than either could elaborate on. She fell asleep the last thing she saw his face in those few moments. In the morning she rose first the light barely filtering in from above. It appeared without the lights they would have been left in total darkness. Grabbing her boots she had no weapons as he did as they had been laid down but she doubted that any test they faced now was one of physical strength because the first last time had not been.
Waiting at the entrance of the hall she carried with her a nervous energy. Her hair left out of a braid for once she was constantly tucking it back behind her ears to keep it out of the way. And to give her hands something to do. “Ready?” She asked him once he appeared to be so.
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Vithkun Almear
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 437
Age: 84
Physical Description: Vithkun is a tall guy extending about 1.9 m in height and has long flowing white hair as is often seen in his family. He would appear to be around 30 years of age.
Clothes and Equipment: He is royalty and likes to show it which is why he wears a thing braided silver band on his head which value can likely not be descriped in mere numbers. In his travels he will go for his plated armor, one which is both extremely light and quite durable, enabling him to retain much of his agility. For more formal matters he prefers robes in various colors and patterns.
He carries his sword with him most of the time and it is a slim long sword forged by the elves. The metal - like his armor - is hard but light and the sharpness of its edge knows few peers. He carries a dagger of similar quality too.
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:46:39 GMT -8
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Post by Vithkun Almear on Apr 2, 2019 22:35:44 GMT -8
"For the best..." Vithkun echoed Myra with a whisper. Before this he knew what was for the best and claiming the Crimson Ascend was certainly for the best and so was ascending the throw but now he was torn. The drow had shown him so many things, things that could not be shown by stars or story, things that only such a thing as 'love' would reveal.
Coming back to the shore he was surprised at how quickly his other clothes was drying up too and lay down on the hard rocky bed content with this for now and waited until he could hear Myra's breath slowing down and becoming deeper. He slowly sat up and folded his hands looking up at the dim light source in the cave wondering what he had to do to make things right. What kind of elf king to be would he be, if he had let Myra come this far only to take the jewel for himself and part ways with her?
There were so many questions and only after hours of pondering and walking around the place did he finally find the peace he needed to rest. Not out of a clear mind but out of exhaustion. The dreamscape that unfolded was however not one of tranquility as normally with elves, but one of strife, doubt and bitterness. Waking up his body may be rested but his mind was hardly much better off than yesterday.
Both elves were too preoccupied to do anything but getting ready and looking at Myra it was clear that she had suffered at least the same amount of stress that he had - but her words about him being ready was a sobering question. He had to be ready and give his best now - Vithkun could give much care to what lay beyond the jewel at this moment.
"Yes." he replied straightening himself as he carried but his sword on his side.
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Myralthrine Host
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 478
Age: 56
Physical Description: Avatar is accurate, 5'6 height.
Clothes and Equipment: Wanderers cloak in a material resembling vantablack in that it does not appear to be a real color. Beneath it she generally wears black leather boots to her knee, charcoal breeches and shirt, both fitted, and black bracers upon her forearms. She carries a morningstar upon her hip and satchel that crosses over her shoulder and chest.
Allegiances: None
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:13:41 GMT -8
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Post by Myralthrine Host on Apr 3, 2019 4:50:30 GMT -8
“The entrance is hidden to the naked eye and would have been beyond my own capabilities to discover normally as I do not work in illusions but eventually I did find it,” the time had come for them to enter the halls of which she had spoke very little of. They walked for a time turning left, and right, and passing different halls and moving through a maze. She had been here for some time on her last visit but thankfully she’d had supplies then to soothe her. Coming to what appeared to be a dead end she would explain, “Every hall that I came to seemed to dead end. I knew there had to be some trick to it but it took me a time to feel it.”
Nerves did not betray her in her hands as they reached out searching for the break in the fabric. It was as if there was a loose strand settled along the lightest breeze and by plucking it the whole spool would unravel from where it had been threaded revealing the doorway, or lack of one, as there was only an entrance. Like a tent where the wind ripped at the opening the veil between these two places could have transported them anywhere but at her request it would take them to where the gem was located.
“Through here,” wasting no time for assumptions or for questions he had followed her this far, what was one step farther into the unimaginable, her hand extended for his assuming that he took it she advised him to, “Take a deep breath and hold it,” before drawing upon him as they passed beyond it.
A chill settled into their bones very briefly. Pouring through their veins as if ice itself had been released among the heat of their blood as their heart pumped it swallowing the tendrils of the frozen onslaught as it surrounded the very vessels on the outside of it. Had he not held his breath he would have certainly felt it within his lungs. It was one small relief but not enough to entirely forgive the ordeal itself as they landed flat footed. Their skin felt as if they had walked through water but none lingered upon them, no sign of the shifting of planes noticeable now but the feel of it would never be forgotten.
Myra let go of his grasp leaning forward with hands on knees as she struggled to breath the free air now. Gasping and gulping Vithkun would have no time to assist her as he himself would feel as if he had been suffocated briefly and only then given relief. Myra had been aware of the result of their passing but feared he might hesitate if he had known, or if he knew what he would see then when his eyes raised.
The floor had been polished smooth as glass, dark in appearance but reflecting the very world above it, the ceiling was if they were in a cave with mineral deposits thrusting downward crystals broken and growing with no rhyme or reason. The area itself was wide with no visible walls at first until he might realize they were reflecting inward as well making it appear as if this world was endless. It was not the vastness that would be bothersome but as it could be explained away by the mind but what accompanied it, what remained there for them to walk through. There were statues, each of an elf and each holding a torch within their hand or hands held aloft and spitting blue flames. Further investigation would reveal these statues to be beautiful, the details almost impeccable. The clothing styles of each were different and if he recalled his history most would be dressed in the current style of all of the ages before his. It was not until he might pass one he could see the solemn look of melancholy each possessed. None seemed pleased or indifferent, only burdened by the fate of forever waiting, and holding their own light.
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Vithkun Almear
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 437
Age: 84
Physical Description: Vithkun is a tall guy extending about 1.9 m in height and has long flowing white hair as is often seen in his family. He would appear to be around 30 years of age.
Clothes and Equipment: He is royalty and likes to show it which is why he wears a thing braided silver band on his head which value can likely not be descriped in mere numbers. In his travels he will go for his plated armor, one which is both extremely light and quite durable, enabling him to retain much of his agility. For more formal matters he prefers robes in various colors and patterns.
He carries his sword with him most of the time and it is a slim long sword forged by the elves. The metal - like his armor - is hard but light and the sharpness of its edge knows few peers. He carries a dagger of similar quality too.
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:46:39 GMT -8
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Post by Vithkun Almear on Apr 3, 2019 8:50:13 GMT -8
They walked quite a ways before finally reaching the place Myra had talked about being hidden. The pure elves weren't bad at spotting illusions, but these illusions that were more mechanical in nature and not based upon nature itself was something he was more unfamiliar with. "Is this made by the dwarves I wonder? They tinker a lot with hidden entrances and illusory doors - I honestly don't know if it's a drow art also?" he asked Myra curiously as he saw her prove that she knew indeed some way of dispelling illusions.
"Well done, I hadn't spotted that." he complimented her with a professional tone seeing the thread unravel. "Is it...? A portal?" he asked and hesitated to follow Myra. "Portals are not to be trifled with, you could end up in the nether regions beneath the dining table of demons far worse than Volypdaktos." Vithkun said firmly waving his finger indicating caution although it seemed like there was no talking her out of it - or getting a proper explanation. "A deep breath?!?" he asked deeply skeptically but obliged and took the hand of the drow knowing that coming this far would only mean that the challenges would rise and he would be in for a steep learning curve.
The cold was unforgivable yet not malign but coursed through Vithkun's veins seemingly attempting to freeze his very blood from the inside. Holding his breath he followed Myra hoping for the torturous frosty grip upon his soul to end very quickly - and so it did as they stepped out of the dimension door and he could finally breath again. A quick but gasping glance of acknowledgement was sent towards Myra as Vithkun now understood what will she possessed - because a lot was needed to guide one to the right place under such circumstances between the shifting planes. Typically wizards and warlocks would create multiple wards and incantations upon themselves to prepare for this and they had just walked through it all exposed and Vith gave a wry smile thinking about the recklessness they had just shown.
Slowly shaking off the feeling of suffocation his eyes started to scan the place while his body straightened and he noticed the obsidian and polished floor, the vastness of the room and the odd crystals in the ceiling. What struck Vithkun, and had his jaw hanging but a little open, was the immaculately made statues that were clearly put there to show a path. "This is... unbelievable." he said and looked at the ones with the torches and then those with the blue flames. "Their clothes... This place is ancient!" he said and turned to Myra stunned not only by the vastness in space but also by the vastness of time this place had been here.
"However... What is this... sadness I seem to feel in my heart when I look upon them? This burden they carry?" he asked himself but also put the question in a way so Myra might chip in.
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Myralthrine Host
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 478
Age: 56
Physical Description: Avatar is accurate, 5'6 height.
Clothes and Equipment: Wanderers cloak in a material resembling vantablack in that it does not appear to be a real color. Beneath it she generally wears black leather boots to her knee, charcoal breeches and shirt, both fitted, and black bracers upon her forearms. She carries a morningstar upon her hip and satchel that crosses over her shoulder and chest.
Allegiances: None
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:13:41 GMT -8
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Post by Myralthrine Host on Apr 3, 2019 9:11:37 GMT -8
“A portal,” she echoed but an air of uncertainty lingered in her words as they fell through on the other side, “I have no talent with it but I did as much research as possible before coming here. Aligning my path with the stone itself meant that there was much I had to learn and when I came to it I knew it was a test as well as any that might have come before it. The leap into the cavern was perhaps meant to be done from the top instead of sliding down a rope but I still could not see it. Considering that some light comes in from above I think that there is some spell upon the entrance. Enough to make one believe it is never ending.”
Explaining further it was the most she had said in some time but if trust was to be given to her he needed more explanations than, take my hand and hold your breath. Here on the other side without precaution taken when passing through she gave him a more thorough one. “I knew at the very least that passing through would not harm us for my intent is different from most that entered here.”
The statues that they faced ran the length of the hall. The very place was about 6 meters wide, at least a hundred long, and spanned upward in the range of 30-40 with the crystals filling the gaps of the space. No dwarven lights existed here, only the fires that they held within their hands and above them. Each stone face carried an expression that he had noticed immediately, commented upon further, cared about their pain in the way it gripped him.
It had chilled her as well the first time.
“I looked at them all before,” she told him looking down the expanse each statue approximately a meter apart both from the side and front and situated with varying positions but none reaching their arms out to the side only forward. Medusa herself might have been proud of the arrangement, “As near as I could tell none seem to be before the jewel itself was taken and not all are elven. It took me some time to learn such for the only real difference was the choice in clothing for some of them. Our kind carries no distinctive marks from one another it seems when all is said and done.”
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Vithkun Almear
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 437
Age: 84
Physical Description: Vithkun is a tall guy extending about 1.9 m in height and has long flowing white hair as is often seen in his family. He would appear to be around 30 years of age.
Clothes and Equipment: He is royalty and likes to show it which is why he wears a thing braided silver band on his head which value can likely not be descriped in mere numbers. In his travels he will go for his plated armor, one which is both extremely light and quite durable, enabling him to retain much of his agility. For more formal matters he prefers robes in various colors and patterns.
He carries his sword with him most of the time and it is a slim long sword forged by the elves. The metal - like his armor - is hard but light and the sharpness of its edge knows few peers. He carries a dagger of similar quality too.
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:46:39 GMT -8
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Post by Vithkun Almear on Apr 3, 2019 10:39:08 GMT -8
It made sense that the entire place was enchanted in the different places and Vithkun did not doubt that he would be unable to ascertain even half the illusions that were put onto this place.
"A long time ago the reclusive and mystical Nature Elves that excelled in memories and dreams and the more sophisticated and aesthetically interested Skyborn Elves found each other and soon they were marrying back and forth between the clans gaining great knowledge and learning countless abilities from the opposing clan. Over only a few hundred years they started settling and living in the same land and the Skyborn, who were known for being masters of elemental creation through magic, and the Nature Elves, who were peerless at conjuring up illusions of extreme beauty and accuracy became as one race. Later they became known as 'Pure Elves' and the land as 'High Haven'." Vithkun told Myra in a very elaborate response.
"However among the Pure Elves no one has been born with proficiency in both creation and illusion yet and one will only master one of the arts - never both. I was of course born as one who can do physical creation which ties me to the Skyborn, and even putting in hard work the illusions I can do are only very rudimentary and requires my greatest effort and concentration. For some of the best of my kin illusions are conjured with a natural effort like that of breathing." he said nostalgically thinking back on his proud ancestry. "Also..." he said and smiled. "You can usually tell by my branch having somewhat less pointy ears..!" he explained and pointed to them indicating them to be shorter and less curved then those that had inherited the skills of the Nature Elves. "So never trust what a long eared elf shows you - if you ever pass one from High Haven." he said jestingly and winked.
Later when Vithkun was examening the statues closer he couldn't but think of what Myra had said about her intent having protected her from harm through the portal. "You're right, not all here are elves and some of these clothes could easily be from after it had happened. But... why erect statues after that event? Are these people some kind of champions? Golem protectors of this place that might awaken when attacked?" Vithkun asked and shivered slightly as he walked along the path with his hands on his back trying do feel if there was any magic that might indicate inherent life to these beings. "As I explained I'm quite good with creation magic but I can't sense that these should start moving because of inherent life." he said and frowned as he continued to move forwards scrutinizing the statues as he paced along them.
Suddenly Vithkun came to an abrupt halt looking right at one of the statues. "Th... this is..!" he said as his eyes scanned the details of the face before he turned to Myra and pointed at it. "This is Maexar Almear, my great grandfather!" he said taken aback by the lifelike presentation. "Wait..!" he said and stumbled a few steps back. "My great grandfather was an adventurer and he vanished in this area as it was recorded and was never found. It makes absolutely no sense, that anyone would have made a statue of him - and much less with this degree of accuracy!" Vithkun argued feeling almost frightened. "Unless..." he added and almost didn't want to finish his deduction out of fear that it was indeed correct. "That it was once him..." he said with a grim expression and tilted his head looking at the statue knowing it was true. "He must have sought what I'm seeking..." Vithkun said and felt his own story mirrored when looking at his ancestor - but also a warning that in some way his grandfather had evidently failed a test. Failed it along with at least a hundred more down here as suddenly a profound sadness caught onto Vithkun and his shoulder fell along with his otherwise determined gaze.
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Myralthrine Host
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 478
Age: 56
Physical Description: Avatar is accurate, 5'6 height.
Clothes and Equipment: Wanderers cloak in a material resembling vantablack in that it does not appear to be a real color. Beneath it she generally wears black leather boots to her knee, charcoal breeches and shirt, both fitted, and black bracers upon her forearms. She carries a morningstar upon her hip and satchel that crosses over her shoulder and chest.
Allegiances: None
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:13:41 GMT -8
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Post by Myralthrine Host on Apr 3, 2019 11:04:51 GMT -8
Listening to his explanation he would have made a fantastic teacher in expressing history in a way that could be easily understood as well as with humor implied into it that made even the sourest of Drow smile within the darkness of the shadows cast upon them. His speech eloquent there was no opening in which to interject for some time and when she did so it was with a hand placed on the shoulder of another, a woman, to say, “This one is Drow, Usharan I do believe.”
His own explanation much longer she would elaborate a moment later coming to another, a male this time, “And this one of Baleoc,” her fingers touched a pendant placed upon the collar in order to show them, “The land of the Drow is but a small corner of the world but we are separated by choice. A line of death surrounds us, ash that has been borne of the world surrounding it. Born of war and death that came from the very destruction of those who opposed us. Declared to be our border by the intensity of such a magic. Born of stars and yet seeking shelter in the darkness our skin is still darkened from a time that we saw no light. Now we are more akin to yourselves in our respect for what lies within the boundaries, there are forests and mountains, and the citadel that I spoke to you of before. The land is separated into factions where great families take ownership and form the council of the King. The Drow were meant to be protectors of the night. I know much that I should not from the council. We once lived as one people separated only by the intensity of the sun as your brethren guarded our sleep and when we rose so did we guard them. Nature and Sky combined over time and some of the Drow were combined in their ranks. There are still a few in High Haven I am sure who have Drow blood within their history whether they choose to remember it or not. We have the same past but not the same future it seems. Our differences were enough to divide as your skills were kept in the lighter places of the world and a faction of my own decided to dip into dark magic, pale magic as it were for Ashborn were formed of it. I was told that all had been extinguished long ago but not before it tore a rift between us and caused a Great War. One we eventually were able to draw a peace from and from where the Crimson Ascent itself was offered in good faith. Peace only lasts so long with such deep seated emotions and with true separation of our lands how could we expect much to change.”
Reminiscing as well his history lesson sparked her own.
The rendering of ever piece he passed was immaculate. Perfection in the sharp planes of their faces, in the wide slant of their eyes, even minute noticeable flaws such as a hair out of place here or there and clothing with small holes torn into the fabric as it laid against their skin. The chill of the portal was nothing compared to his realization that the passageway they walked through now was not some great mural or piece. This was a graveyard. One committed to capturing likeness by freezing the very passage of time in solid stone and each represented here was truly not a representation but the person themselves.
She knew this from her first passing but to know that a relative of Vithkun’s was trapped here, that she never could have been aware of. The instant that he began to speak, that he declared himself knowing of the man she joined his side. It was swift, the way she flitted between them with a purposeful walk. His shoulder dropped and she supported it hand on his upper arm making him take heed of her intense gaze, “You are not he, and you have not come alone, we will not make the mistakes of others because we are together. Whatever comes we will face it as one.”
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Vithkun Almear
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 437
Age: 84
Physical Description: Vithkun is a tall guy extending about 1.9 m in height and has long flowing white hair as is often seen in his family. He would appear to be around 30 years of age.
Clothes and Equipment: He is royalty and likes to show it which is why he wears a thing braided silver band on his head which value can likely not be descriped in mere numbers. In his travels he will go for his plated armor, one which is both extremely light and quite durable, enabling him to retain much of his agility. For more formal matters he prefers robes in various colors and patterns.
He carries his sword with him most of the time and it is a slim long sword forged by the elves. The metal - like his armor - is hard but light and the sharpness of its edge knows few peers. He carries a dagger of similar quality too.
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:46:39 GMT -8
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Post by Vithkun Almear on Apr 3, 2019 12:47:57 GMT -8
Myra's own explanation that followed had Vithkun's ears immediately interested. 'Usharan' and 'Baleoc - Myra was 'Host', which he knew to be the least flattering of the surnames you could be granted so he saw no reason to dig any deeper into what kind of nobility those two were - because they were certainly seen as much higher in drow society than her. However the facts that she put on the table had Vithkun surprised. "As one people? Are you perfectly sure? Nothing in our annals says anything about that, and our lands are so far apart that I hardly see it being possible?" Vithkun said and shrugged although he wouldn't want to be too rude about her - probably - having been sold a lie.
But for his skepticism at least this had made him think because obviously things were not as clear cut as he had thought previously. The two people must once have had reason to go into war with each other, and may have even lived closer to each other than they did now. "I suppose there is more to find out - at least I now have some questions to seek answers to." Vithkun said although he kept it to himself which questions that was to be exact.
The realization was a tough one for Vith and biting his own lip he had to muster all the willpower in his soul in order to not cower and lose his faith. However as to not lose himself completely Myra's support was crucial as she touched his arm and had him look at her through that steely gaze that now looked at him firmly - almost as if they wanted to scold him and yet... such caring and merciful love they showed him once again.
Her words were empowering and nodding to Myra he looked at his great grandfather silently paying him the respect that was due - but the real respect Vithkun felt was towards Myra. Such a difficult time they had had together with the rampant emotions they still carried and she was still brave enough to catch him when it mattered. He was grateful.
"Thank you, Myra. We will indeed!" he said with a smile that was now stronger and brimming with intent. "Let's finish this march of death and see what the old drow had in mind for us!" Vithkun said determined and started pacing down along the people eternally frozen in time but himself feeling suddenly very much alive and energetic with Myra by his side being such a strengthening of his will and soul.
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Myralthrine Host
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 478
Age: 56
Physical Description: Avatar is accurate, 5'6 height.
Clothes and Equipment: Wanderers cloak in a material resembling vantablack in that it does not appear to be a real color. Beneath it she generally wears black leather boots to her knee, charcoal breeches and shirt, both fitted, and black bracers upon her forearms. She carries a morningstar upon her hip and satchel that crosses over her shoulder and chest.
Allegiances: None
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:13:41 GMT -8
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Post by Myralthrine Host on Apr 3, 2019 13:30:42 GMT -8
Half a conversation led before his discovery she answered before needing to rush to his side, “The elders that spoke to me were blinded by the starlight. Perhaps they knew what I was but they did not speak upon it nor elaborate other than to express that there was a great power that had split us on both sides,” forlorn in a sense at the loss she added not unkindly, “I think both of our people want to view things as the best from their own point of view.”
It was a fair enough assumption or the history of the world was written by the victors. Those victors would declare themselves as the righteous, or at least more righteous than the others. It was simply to the benefit of elves that their long lives allowed them to see more clearly. Surely some knew the truth even if their seclusion meant a lack of currently knowledge of the world.
“That’s the spirit,” she stated following him with a wry smile. He had a way of bolstering himself that she felt almost unnecessary. Surely he might have done the same without her aid and marched off with enough confidence to start his own private war.
Following him along the path they would come to the end of the hall, a rough wall surrounded the far side, not reflective as the rest with a center doorway. Two doors that were of grand size, enough that one would struggle to open both by themselves for they were of a staggering height. The doors were made of a white stone, Myra recognized it as the stone of the capital city, a rare find in Drow lands much less outside of them. The handles were of the same polished obsidian as the floor. At least a foot in height and long narrow tubes that were hollow should one bang on them. The doors came together in the center with no locks, only a line of silver that plated the edges of the doors going to the top where it met in a half circle, and then down around the sides to the bottom. One one door there was elven script, long, flowing, beautiful, but missing words. On the right there was Drow, a harsher tilt to the way the letters were formed but definitely related to the elvish. It bore the same odd style where there were spaces for missing words between them. The rock had been carved out in those places, roughly, as if chisel had met stone.
The elven side stated, ”Enter - and - that - you -. For - you are worthy it - be yours. - be, - alone you - -, together - rise.”
The Drow side was in an older dialect, which was difficult to read even for one well versed in the language but for what was not scratched out stated, “- Friend - find - which - - seek. - if you - worthy - shall be yours. Weary -, for alone you fail* - you rise.”
*The word fail is almost unreadable.
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Vithkun Almear
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 437
Age: 84
Physical Description: Vithkun is a tall guy extending about 1.9 m in height and has long flowing white hair as is often seen in his family. He would appear to be around 30 years of age.
Clothes and Equipment: He is royalty and likes to show it which is why he wears a thing braided silver band on his head which value can likely not be descriped in mere numbers. In his travels he will go for his plated armor, one which is both extremely light and quite durable, enabling him to retain much of his agility. For more formal matters he prefers robes in various colors and patterns.
He carries his sword with him most of the time and it is a slim long sword forged by the elves. The metal - like his armor - is hard but light and the sharpness of its edge knows few peers. He carries a dagger of similar quality too.
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:46:39 GMT -8
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Post by Vithkun Almear on Apr 4, 2019 23:01:38 GMT -8
As the two elves had finally paced through the 'walk of death' they arrived at a dead end where a huge non reflective wall stopped their path along with a couple of equally impressive doors that seemed to have been made from the most impressive craftsmen. Vithkun immediately noticed the writing on the doors that seemed to indicate some kind of puzzle was meant to be solved to open the doors.
"With no locks and the text on the doors I would assume that we have to solve this riddle to make it open. Everything about this door brims of magic enchantments - but not one that I could hope to break with my own inscription I'm afraid." he said and briefly glanced back at the statues wondering how many of them had tried to force their way through.
Perhaps... Just perhaps if he used the ring he still had in his pocket he might be able to rearrange the composition of the doors and the enchantments to... No, it carried a huge risk and he could feel several layers of magic here that might mean unexpected surprises for both of them.
Vithkun leaned in closer to inspect the finely inscripted words. "I assume that one is drow?" he said and looked at the slightly more crude writings opposite to the clearly elven ones. "You can probably read what it says on my side, but I don't recognize what it says there?" Vithkun admitted hoping Myra might be able to translate it if they were to make sense of it.
"Do you have any idea of what the missing words are all about? Are we supposed to rearrange them or know some kind of code passed down through time?" he said and looked around for clues to the puzzle that might be just in front of them.
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Myralthrine Host
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 478
Age: 56
Physical Description: Avatar is accurate, 5'6 height.
Clothes and Equipment: Wanderers cloak in a material resembling vantablack in that it does not appear to be a real color. Beneath it she generally wears black leather boots to her knee, charcoal breeches and shirt, both fitted, and black bracers upon her forearms. She carries a morningstar upon her hip and satchel that crosses over her shoulder and chest.
Allegiances: None
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:13:41 GMT -8
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Post by Myralthrine Host on Apr 5, 2019 5:15:53 GMT -8
“When we first met I told you I had seen this place, knew the words that were written, this is what I meant,” wistful in reminiscing about the fact he had not believed her she touched the door without fear.
The world here was based on illusion and fantasy. Some things were real and some were not and judging which was which was impossible for her when surrounded by such strong magic. Its presentation was certainly beautiful in the aching hearts of those trapped behind them, “I can read both,” he already assumed such and so she openly said it, “Though it took time to figure out what this word was,” her fingertips brushed the word fail. It. Had been sanded down to but barely a semblance of what it was, “When I first arrived I attempted to figure out the gaps in each. I took paper and brushed ink over each. The others were scratched out, but this one, this one I was able to infer the true meaning. The word is fail.”
Both doors loomed, great in height above them and it was true there was no discernible locks. If tried they would open should he pull on his respective side and she had on her last visit. Attempted at least and it had budged but fear of the words upon it made her stop something frightening in the unknown and the sudden chill that ran down her spine. The little it had moved there was no light, but shadow, that came from the opening. Stretching like a hand, reaching, asking for release it seemed. Slamming it back into place and leaning against it she almost believed she’d seen one of the figures before her move but passed it off quickly when neither did again. Informing Vithkun of this not to frighten him but to reassure him that it would take the two of them to dispel whatever lay behind it.
“They match one another,” she finally told him backing up a step for a clear view, “It took me a time to understand it but where there are gaps on the left they are filled on the right, some words are the same as well. To the best of my knowledge it says, “Enter friend and find that which you seek. For if you are worthy it shall be yours. Weary be, for alone you fail, together you rise.”
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Vithkun Almear
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 437
Age: 84
Physical Description: Vithkun is a tall guy extending about 1.9 m in height and has long flowing white hair as is often seen in his family. He would appear to be around 30 years of age.
Clothes and Equipment: He is royalty and likes to show it which is why he wears a thing braided silver band on his head which value can likely not be descriped in mere numbers. In his travels he will go for his plated armor, one which is both extremely light and quite durable, enabling him to retain much of his agility. For more formal matters he prefers robes in various colors and patterns.
He carries his sword with him most of the time and it is a slim long sword forged by the elves. The metal - like his armor - is hard but light and the sharpness of its edge knows few peers. He carries a dagger of similar quality too.
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:46:39 GMT -8
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Post by Vithkun Almear on Apr 5, 2019 12:31:50 GMT -8
Vithkun carefully traced her words about the doors and put his own hand on the door slowly wrapping his fingers around the handle only to feel as if a shadow simultaneously gripped a handle on the other side wanting him to open - wanting him to step into his doom. He quickly released the handle. "This is a foul enchantment..!" he exclaimed and unconsciously took a step back.
While Myra explained how the two texts matched Vithkun nodded and in some way the simplicity of this puzzle was also its beauty. "So this is the proof that elf and drow most work together in order to be able to enter safely. Two incomplete sentences that complete each other when put together." he said while a faint smile acknowledged the brilliance of the maker of this riddle - but also slightly loathed what the consequence failure would present them.
"How would you go about it? Do we speak the sentences together and then open the doors in unison?" he asked thinking perhaps it did not have to be much more difficult than that. Or perhaps it was.
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Myralthrine Host
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 478
Age: 56
Physical Description: Avatar is accurate, 5'6 height.
Clothes and Equipment: Wanderers cloak in a material resembling vantablack in that it does not appear to be a real color. Beneath it she generally wears black leather boots to her knee, charcoal breeches and shirt, both fitted, and black bracers upon her forearms. She carries a morningstar upon her hip and satchel that crosses over her shoulder and chest.
Allegiances: None
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:13:41 GMT -8
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Post by Myralthrine Host on Apr 5, 2019 20:36:46 GMT -8
“The enchantment I believe is the test, most of our kinds are susceptible to feeling that sensation,” a chill still ran down her spine even when he touched the handle as if to pull, “I do not believe that we have to speak it,” drawing back a step she looked up to the horizon of the door, “If it is truly about understanding the others speech perhaps we have to open the opposite door?”
The statues behind them told a story of failure. Perhaps with this door, perhaps with the next, perhaps with the failure of not understanding and simply waiting long enough for something to slink past the door that could be harmful in its very nature. Myra had been here for some time and never attempted to open them other than once. It had been enough to deter her from doing so again.
“The simplicity of the problem was only the start, making two work together that generally despised one another was the true trick to it,” wistful again she touched his shoulder and said, “But we did not come this far to back down now. Together?”
If he was prepared she would move to the elven door.
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Vithkun Almear
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 437
Age: 84
Physical Description: Vithkun is a tall guy extending about 1.9 m in height and has long flowing white hair as is often seen in his family. He would appear to be around 30 years of age.
Clothes and Equipment: He is royalty and likes to show it which is why he wears a thing braided silver band on his head which value can likely not be descriped in mere numbers. In his travels he will go for his plated armor, one which is both extremely light and quite durable, enabling him to retain much of his agility. For more formal matters he prefers robes in various colors and patterns.
He carries his sword with him most of the time and it is a slim long sword forged by the elves. The metal - like his armor - is hard but light and the sharpness of its edge knows few peers. He carries a dagger of similar quality too.
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:46:39 GMT -8
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Post by Vithkun Almear on Apr 6, 2019 5:40:37 GMT -8
Vithkun stroked his chin looking to the other door. Myra was making sense, but how could they know, that they were to open the opposite door? "So just opening the opposite door? It seems awfully risky..." Vithkun declared looking twice at Myra. Was she prepared to take such risks to get the jewel or... were there other reasons he didn't know about?
"Well if you're prepared to try it, I am too." Vithkun said determined smiling as she touched his shoulder and switched sides with Myra. He put his hand firmly on the handle trying to feel whatever magic may be behind the door - but this time nothing revealed itself to him. This might be both a good or a bad thing. Locking eyes with Myra Vithkun nodded and gave her a tense smile. "Let's do it..." he said and continued his sentence silently '...right.' as he would pull the handle at the same time as Myra.
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Myralthrine Host
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 478
Age: 56
Physical Description: Avatar is accurate, 5'6 height.
Clothes and Equipment: Wanderers cloak in a material resembling vantablack in that it does not appear to be a real color. Beneath it she generally wears black leather boots to her knee, charcoal breeches and shirt, both fitted, and black bracers upon her forearms. She carries a morningstar upon her hip and satchel that crosses over her shoulder and chest.
Allegiances: None
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:13:41 GMT -8
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Post by Myralthrine Host on Apr 6, 2019 9:27:17 GMT -8
“Nothing comes without risks,” she echoed his word back to him surprised at his determination for it was only a moment of hesitation that he showed before switching her sides. Whatever lie in wait they would face it together and though her reasons were no longer clear nor were they in the forefront of her mind. Only the next task.
Gripping the handle it was chilled from the air but not as cold as the portal. Both hands required the wait for him to declare it was time had them both yanking back perhaps harder than necessary. The door was easy to open, it slid forth as if the invisible hinges were well oiled and what was revealed was nothing. At first. It was pitch black.
Then it blew out the door in a torrent. Like black sand within the air swirling and surrounding them and flying through the poses of the others covering the light of the flames that they held aloft. It wrapped around the nape of both of them like tendrils soft and sweet caressing the hair and tugging on it lightly, covering their ears. Never invading their lungs they could breath, and it shifted away from their mouths to allow them to do so. Both would be unable to see the other as it occurred but they could hear whispers. Whispers that sounded as if they came from all directions surrounding Vithkun and Myra separately. They spoke as if they were the sand, silted and sweet, drawing in as if attempting to sound alluring, “Little Prince,” they whispered in his ears, “You seek to challenge us but what right do you have... you sit second for the throne and yet you whisper deceit to yourself claiming it will be yours. Wanting something you shall never have and denying your other desires in order to seek a falsehood. You break tradition by ignorance of what fate has in store for you Little Prince...”
If he tried to speak it would swallow his words, no sound emerging, but laughter in his ear, the cold cackling making his blood burn hot instead of cold, attempting to get a rise out of him, “Do you think you will succeed? Perhaps you shall but you will lose that which matters most and yet you cannot admit that it matters even a little. You lie to yourself and replace your mask even as it cracks around you. Put your lies on the line Little Prince, see how far they take you...”
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Vithkun Almear
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 437
Age: 84
Physical Description: Vithkun is a tall guy extending about 1.9 m in height and has long flowing white hair as is often seen in his family. He would appear to be around 30 years of age.
Clothes and Equipment: He is royalty and likes to show it which is why he wears a thing braided silver band on his head which value can likely not be descriped in mere numbers. In his travels he will go for his plated armor, one which is both extremely light and quite durable, enabling him to retain much of his agility. For more formal matters he prefers robes in various colors and patterns.
He carries his sword with him most of the time and it is a slim long sword forged by the elves. The metal - like his armor - is hard but light and the sharpness of its edge knows few peers. He carries a dagger of similar quality too.
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:46:39 GMT -8
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Post by Vithkun Almear on Apr 7, 2019 0:09:49 GMT -8
"True, risks are what's needed when trying to move things forward." he chimed bracing himself as he pulled the handle. The door slid open in an almost welcoming manner although what lay behind it could hardly be described as such. An obsidian black space of nothingness awaited Vithkun's gaze and as he turned his head towards Myra to ask what to do now, suddenly it seemed like it was animated into life.
Black dust and crumbs came towards the elf like a gale and he instinctively raised both arms to shield his himself from whatever harm it meant to put on the elf. Only a few moments after when he realized that it would not invade neither mouth nor eyes he saw that Myra was enveloped in the exact same way and he instinctively stretched out his arm towards her. "Myra..!" he cried out but at that point it was already too late and the darkness had completely enveloped him leaving him with nothing but throbbing silence.
The thoughts raced through his head. Had they misinterpreted the puzzle? Was this how it was like being turned to stone? Of course it was, there was no way that they were smarter than the hundred or so others that had tried gaining entry - what had they been thinking? But as everything happened so quickly the whispers started to emerge - sweet little voices - but their words as venomous as Vithkun remembered the sirens being.
"...!" Vithkun tried to open his mouth and retaliate as it spoke about his right to covet the throne but his very words were suppressed. He wanted to shout out that it was indeed his and that he had more right than anyone else - he just needed the jewel to make it happen. The voices in his head seemed to persist in its mockery of the elf. At least he interpreted it as such although the words most painful were the ones his heart knew had truth to them.
Trying once again to shout out with all the power he had he was unsuccessful and his voice was smothered like a drop in the lake. Yes he was going to get the crimson ascend and with that he was going to become king for sure, discard his scars and... and... Sit on the throne reigning... - and then he saw the dream from last night that had been so blurry and made him restless. Him on a throne of ice holding the Crimson Ascend while the ice was slowly making its way through his limbs and towards... his heart.
Vithkun opened his eyes wide as now it was painfully clear what his vision did not contain - it was his love. "Myraaa!!!" he tried to shout out as a tear ran down his cheek. 'To hell with the jewel, the scars, the throne..! What I can't afford to lose is what I had all a long. You idiot elf!' he thought to himself the words inside his head burning strong and firm knowing that no matter how his ended he could not let it end in such a way that he lost Myra. She was the center, she was what was truly precious to Vithkun and had managed to do so in just the very few weeks they had been on their journey.
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Myralthrine Host
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 478
Age: 56
Physical Description: Avatar is accurate, 5'6 height.
Clothes and Equipment: Wanderers cloak in a material resembling vantablack in that it does not appear to be a real color. Beneath it she generally wears black leather boots to her knee, charcoal breeches and shirt, both fitted, and black bracers upon her forearms. She carries a morningstar upon her hip and satchel that crosses over her shoulder and chest.
Allegiances: None
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:13:41 GMT -8
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Post by Myralthrine Host on Apr 7, 2019 9:04:09 GMT -8
Encased within the sands they slid across his skin like a lovers caress the sweet nothings it whispered fading, but not by his own design and when he spoke her name it came from his lips clearly. Ringing and reaching out in order to guide her. The hand outstretched was met fingertips reaching and slipping on the bottom of his hand until they grasped his wrist. The instant that it made contact the sand collapsed like a sheet blanketing the ground in its pitch the depth of the black broken by shimmering ones of white the mixture to where it sparkled like the stars themselves. The flames reappeared within hand and torch and they were left standing before the open doors, her clinging to his arm with her own a mixture of fear mingled with the somber realizations the sand had whispered to her captured in her eyes.
Her failure had caused such a realization to come over him from its whispers. He had immediately reached for her, stretched forth and attempted to protect her, and she had drawn inward. Caving in like a sinkhole her first instinct had been to go to Vith but the darkness frightened her. Not of her own creation, its appearance reminded her of Annonai and she shrank back like the little mouse she’d killed so long ago. Tears stained the edges of her eyes the pale blue iris being drawn upon by white making it appear as if it were jagged instead of smooth and round. It whispered such things and while his intentions became known to him hers were thrown into disarray. He was now her lifeline as they stood clear of the sand, which did not remain in the doorway. It had fallen and shrank back leaving the pathway clear into the room and behind them.
The doors now open they could peer inside but still there was nothing. Vithkun would not be able to see in the pure sheet of night but Myra could. It was an odd presentation to be sure, as the hall seemed to be lit by sconces along one wall and it was oddly straight. The walls of dark rock and the floor of the same hollowed stones that presented like the walk to a dungeon. Glancing downward the stones were laid flat but in them was carved symbols. Not all, but enough that they formed a pathway in a zigzag pattern. They were the symbols of the citadel, for she recognized them, but some next to one another were not in the right order for the climb. If one followed the path as far as she could see you could take them as they came in succession within the citadel itself.
Shooken by the third task presented she did not immediately share the sight, nor tear her eyes from Vithkun. No words came from her mouth though it opened and shut quickly a wavering in her form and her confidence shaken.
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