Daris'Fall, The Rising Blade
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 167 
Age: 19
Physical Description: Small for an orcish warrior Daris is just over six foot six, a good 6 inches below average height. Despite his height, he still has the build of a warrior. He is surprisingly light on his feet and very flexible. Like most orcs he has a powerful jawline, heavy brow, and protruding tusks. By orc standards he is considered to be quite the looker. Coupled with his status in the tribe, he has more than a few young orcish woman looking to win his eye.
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Clothes and Equipment: Like most warriors Daris prefer light simply armor for his day to day wear. This armor allows for freedom of movement in combat, essential to his fighting style.
His weapon is a slightly curved sword, with a long grip. It can easily be wielded in one or two hands, and is designed for slashing attacks. His sword is made of a single carved piece of living stone. A gift from the earth, the blade is preternaturally sharp, durable, and bound to him. He can summon it to his hand, and use it channel his magics.
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Registered: Mar 12, 2016 16:09:38 GMT -8
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Post by Daris'Fall, The Rising Blade on Aug 12, 2016 13:12:34 GMT -8
Daris watched as nothing happened. Dura seemed to be channeling some magic, but if anything was supposed to be happening he couldn't tell. Then suddenly Theev'nok moved and spoke. Based on Dura's reaction and Thorok's words she had been successful. The brute lived once more. As Dura breathed his name he wrapped an arm around her. Wondering what the future held now.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 21, 2024 15:25:21 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Aug 15, 2016 10:37:16 GMT -8
From there, the once-Chieftan held a happy, parted smile, that is, until he saw them pair. An arm, thrown around her, not in that of assistance, nor needing of it. Not an arm that was there for assuring or comfort, or even praise for what she'd just achieved. No, this arm was something much more sacred. His face closed in, his eyes settling and glazed with a hardness once more.
Married, he could see now, with a quick glance to their hands and then their faces. The Chieftan continued to sit there, his knees digging into the ground. Looking to Daris'Fall, and then to Zar'Dura, he didn't know what he felt. Of course, this was expected, but he never actually thought about it, for in the realm he was in, that time was sacred. Standing there, he stared in between them, his mind going adrift. There was one time, yes, one time.. when he used such an arm as that.
His eyes fluttered back into consciousness as they faded from his vision, staring back to the two standing there. Clearing his throat for a moment, he looked back up to them. "I see..." He paused for a moment, standing up, turning to his side as he would look to their feet. "And I would assume you've..." He paused there, imagining now that Zar'Dura bared child.
And that was the next question he asked. "Then you bare one of us?" He questioned, waiting for her response, soft fists to the sides of his body as he awaited a response from her. Currently, he didn't know how he would react, he didn't know if he was mad or happy or anything for them. His graciousness seemed to fade and be replaced with just, observing them.
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Zar'Dura the Listener
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 250 
Age: 19
Physical Description: At 6'3", Zar'Dura is somewhat small, even for a female Orc, and she is not as muscular as most. Her skin is a greenish-brownish-grey color that is common to her race, and her features, while not what humans would consider beautiful, are delicate for her kind, with full lips and two small tusks protruding upward from behind her lower lip. Her eyes are a startling amber-gold color, and her hair is black, worn in tightly-bound ropes often adorned with charms and rings carved of wood and stone.
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Clothes and Equipment: Most frequently, she can be seen wearing a set of fur-and-leather robes, adorned with fangs, claws, and a single wolf femur, with a single strap that lays across her right shoulder, leaving the other bare. Occasionally, she wears armor of leather and iron, created for her by her parents. Her usual equipment consists of a simple wooden staff carved with runes.
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Player's online availability : Evenings. (EST)
Registered: Feb 10, 2016 19:17:02 GMT -8
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Post by Zar'Dura the Listener on Aug 15, 2016 10:59:49 GMT -8
A fraction of a moment too late, Dura realized that Daris putting his arm around her - and her leaning into his embrace, her head against his shoulder - would make it far too obvious to their chieftain what kind of relationship the two had. Her gaze flicked over to Thorok just in time to see the light of knowledge cross his face. Then the male spoke to them and stood, and his words made her heart sink. He thought she was with child? She wasn't sure whether she should be offended, that he thought they'd wed simply because she carried a babe, or worried that she would disappoint him with the truth. Slowly, she shook her head as she replied.
"No, chieftain. After our travels together.. we realized that we held feelings for each other. Strong ones. And when we found Falkreath gone.. all we had was each other. So after we moved here, built our home together.. it seemed only natural to marry." She looked at him, her golden eyes imploring, and continued in a softer tone.
"Please.. do not try to part us. Daris'Fall is everything to me."
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Daris'Fall, The Rising Blade
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 167
Age: 19
Physical Description: Small for an orcish warrior Daris is just over six foot six, a good 6 inches below average height. Despite his height, he still has the build of a warrior. He is surprisingly light on his feet and very flexible. Like most orcs he has a powerful jawline, heavy brow, and protruding tusks. By orc standards he is considered to be quite the looker. Coupled with his status in the tribe, he has more than a few young orcish woman looking to win his eye.
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Clothes and Equipment: Like most warriors Daris prefer light simply armor for his day to day wear. This armor allows for freedom of movement in combat, essential to his fighting style.
His weapon is a slightly curved sword, with a long grip. It can easily be wielded in one or two hands, and is designed for slashing attacks. His sword is made of a single carved piece of living stone. A gift from the earth, the blade is preternaturally sharp, durable, and bound to him. He can summon it to his hand, and use it channel his magics.
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Registered: Mar 12, 2016 16:09:38 GMT -8
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Post by Daris'Fall, The Rising Blade on Aug 15, 2016 11:29:33 GMT -8
"We followed the traditions of Falreath as closely as we could, in our relationship."
Daris added keeping his arm around Dura almost protectively. There was a time when the shame of being caught like this would have made the warrior try to hide the truth. That time was long past. Their adventures and the simple act of living without support of the village had hardened Daris. He was no longer a boy in his own eyes. He was a man who had risen through adversity. No longer beholden to the whims of his elders as he had been when he was young. Not that he no longer carried respect for them or his people. Rather he had come to believe that he could be his own person now. Capable of making his own decisions and standing by them.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 21, 2024 15:25:21 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Aug 15, 2016 12:03:01 GMT -8
The realization came to him. But surely.. if they had such love, wouldn't they have..?
And from there, he would only assume what sort of life they would life. Their sentences forged together were only a kindle, igniting something deep within. Something that clawed it's way towards Thorok's heart. But his eyes intensified as he stood there, staring to them from his side, his fist facing away from them hidden as it gripped mightily as his other loosened to show softness. What was this fire meaning?
The fact that she spoke as if he had the power.. that could've been what set him off. His body turned with a swift step, eyes suddenly igniting with a pent up anger, as if speaking about it before was not enough nor the sorrowful vibes coming from his pathetic state. His fist balled as he looked straight to Zar'Dura, and from there, he would bark with a ferocious tone.
"Do NOT speak to me as if I am your Chieftan!! Do you truly believe the coming of me could restore ANY authority over you that I have lost? To crawl into some hut and consider yourselves of a people who've been reaped from this world!? I HAVE, NOTHING!! And yet you still speak to me in such audacity!?"
His chest pumped now, a mighty stinging growing evermore in his eyes as his pupils dilated from the adrenaline pumping through him, his entire body aflame internally and veins protruding from the rage built up within him. "And you! Daris'Fall!" His body shifted to the warrior who clung to his lover. "You, you speak of tradition! What tradition, who of the Frok'Nold were here to witness you, Rising Blade? You followed no traditions of my people, for there were NONE of my people! You were and still exist as a pup, growing in the world without its pack." From that last word, strains of saliva shot out from his mouth, staring to where they fell with sudden focus.
Staring back up, he felt tension around his mouth. Had he dared to bare fangs towards the last two of his once-tribe? His face suddenly caught realization, calming down now, eyes glossed with regret as he looked to them, and then turned back over his shoulder to Theev'Nok, who lied there weak and asleep. ".....There are no people, there are no traditions..." Turning back, he stared to both of them, a reddish-pinkness coming to his eyes now. "And I, am not, your Thuri." His hand pointed to the ground with the last sentence, fidgeting with the last two words. He grew silent, expecting no response after waiting for a second or two, huffing as he walked his way at least eight feet back to where Theev'Nok was, crossing his legs as his spear was nearby him now, staring to Theev'Nok's limp body as he pondered the words he spoke. One could only guess the turmoil the Chieftan was going through now. But then again, one could also guess such an orc had made up his mind.
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Zar'Dura the Listener
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 250
Age: 19
Physical Description: At 6'3", Zar'Dura is somewhat small, even for a female Orc, and she is not as muscular as most. Her skin is a greenish-brownish-grey color that is common to her race, and her features, while not what humans would consider beautiful, are delicate for her kind, with full lips and two small tusks protruding upward from behind her lower lip. Her eyes are a startling amber-gold color, and her hair is black, worn in tightly-bound ropes often adorned with charms and rings carved of wood and stone.
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Clothes and Equipment: Most frequently, she can be seen wearing a set of fur-and-leather robes, adorned with fangs, claws, and a single wolf femur, with a single strap that lays across her right shoulder, leaving the other bare. Occasionally, she wears armor of leather and iron, created for her by her parents. Her usual equipment consists of a simple wooden staff carved with runes.
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Player's online availability : Evenings. (EST)
Registered: Feb 10, 2016 19:17:02 GMT -8
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Post by Zar'Dura the Listener on Aug 15, 2016 12:52:30 GMT -8
The Listener tensed as Thorok began to yell at them, her lips curling back ever so slightly from her teeth as she growled. He yelled at her, at them, at her husband, and it took everything she had to repress the instinctive urge to protect Daris, who was her mate. Thorok was upset. It was understandable. He'd lost everything, he had only them and Theev'Nok, and they just reminded him of what he'd lost - of the wives who were trapped in a realm so far from him, of the sons he would never have now that he was gone from them. She slowly let the tension leach out of her body, reaching to grab Daris' hand and give it a slight squeeze.
"We did what we could. We thought we were going to be alone forever. But we are not. As long as some of the tribe exists in this world, you will always be our Thuri." She grabbed her staff and turned wearily toward the hut. After everything that had happened, the energy she'd expended guiding Theev'Nok's soul back to his body.. she was exhausted. Whether or not Daris accompanied her, she'd enter the hut and stretch out on the furs beside the fire, attempting to rest.
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Daris'Fall, The Rising Blade
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 167
Age: 19
Physical Description: Small for an orcish warrior Daris is just over six foot six, a good 6 inches below average height. Despite his height, he still has the build of a warrior. He is surprisingly light on his feet and very flexible. Like most orcs he has a powerful jawline, heavy brow, and protruding tusks. By orc standards he is considered to be quite the looker. Coupled with his status in the tribe, he has more than a few young orcish woman looking to win his eye.
-
Clothes and Equipment: Like most warriors Daris prefer light simply armor for his day to day wear. This armor allows for freedom of movement in combat, essential to his fighting style.
His weapon is a slightly curved sword, with a long grip. It can easily be wielded in one or two hands, and is designed for slashing attacks. His sword is made of a single carved piece of living stone. A gift from the earth, the blade is preternaturally sharp, durable, and bound to him. He can summon it to his hand, and use it channel his magics.
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Registered: Mar 12, 2016 16:09:38 GMT -8
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Post by Daris'Fall, The Rising Blade on Aug 15, 2016 17:41:57 GMT -8
Daris stiffened as Thorok ranted at them. His anger mounting as the orcs rage increased. He did not immediately follow Dura, though he did stand when she did. He waited until she was inside to speak. When he does his voice is low, calm, but severe.
"Thorok will always be our Thuri. But you are not he. He was not so weak you as you. I do not know who you are, but you are not my cousin. You are at most the shadow of a great orc. An orc that wouldn't have broke so long as a single member of his tribe remained alive."
With these words given Daris turns and heads into the house. The door latched shut behind him. The message was clear, Thorok was not welcome in his home. Not after the words the other orc had spoke.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 21, 2024 15:25:21 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Aug 16, 2016 5:02:40 GMT -8
That definitely got Thorok to jump back up, spear in his hand with a rage building up.
"DARE YOU, DARIS'FALL, JUDGE ME!?!? AS WEAK AS ME PERHAPS NOT, BUT SHALL YOU TRULY WISH TO JUDGE ME AS YOU SPEAK? THEN COME, COME AND JUDGE ME!!"
His fist slammed into his center chest as his calves made him bounce, spear gripped mightily in his hand as the tip pointed downwards to the ground, his chest aflame now. Hearing the door latching shut behind him was most definitely enraging. Who was such a young pup to cast him away? His anger built up mightily, roaring as he swung his spear towards the house, landing a few feet away from it as he dropped, collapsing to the floor.
It was at that point that he would delve deeper into evil thoughts. How those last words nothing more than a speech to insult himself. No, there was one thing that was true in those words. He was most definitely not his cousin, nor his kin. Neither of them were with the sudden banishment they bestowed.
A few minutes later, the Chieftan would arise, his stomach empty from the anger spent as he lifted his spear from the floor, marching into the forest. Theev'Nok was way to mighty and large now for neither or both of them to pick him up, and seeing it, he was the only security for him to stay there. He wished for meat and water, and so he found. A small stream later on he would fill his cantines with, his spear entering through a dear later on which he'd carry over his shoulders back to Theev'Nok's area.
"Banish me..." It was now near sunset where he began to work on the fire, setting up another pit as his knife entered into the stomach of the dear, slashing it outwards so the guts spilled over his knees and thighs. "You BANISH ME!?!?!" He roared out again, his bloodied hand pounding against his chest again, sighing with a grunt as he attained no response, continuing to violently slash and stab into the deer below him, ripping off limbs as soon as they were weak enough. His heart raced for a moment, his eyes dizzying and his body soon falling over onto the deer, using it as a rest as half of his body was in guts and the other was clinging to the top, like a raft within water.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 21, 2024 15:25:21 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Aug 16, 2016 5:13:26 GMT -8
And only a few minutes after would Theev'Nok rise up, his hands clutching onto his head as he looked around, sighing in relief as what had happened was not a dream. A chuckle like that from a child's came out of his body, clutching onto the dirt below him and bringing his tongue out to drag along his hand, tasting the dust and the dirt and laughing with glee, a joyous grin upon his face that couldn't be mistaken as Theev'Nok's. His mighty smile grew more as he latched onto the dirt and threw it into the air, spinning with a hop, making the ground bounce a bit. When he stopped, however, it was in between two fires, a Chieftan and his deer. His eyes softened, marching towards that of Thorok.
"...Thorok...?" His voice boomed out, but did not wake the great Chieftan, for his energy was much spent. But that, oh that, was only a taste compared to what Theev'Nok suffered from. He would awake later on. For now, he ignored the hut as the moon was shining, sprinting into the forest with that mighty, booming chuckle, a minor roar as he lept onto a tree, bringing it down and lifting it up as if it was a blade, or a longsword. He swung it around a couple times before tossing it nearby the flatland in front of the hut, and then another tree would fall, and then another until five trees would be scattered in a small pile. There wasn't much reason for now, but Theev'Nok simply felt like it. He had every right to do so, he thought, as his reward for escaping such a treacherous eternity as he did.
His eyes lit up as he looked to the moon, his jaws parting with awe as he reached towards it. From there he jumped mightily, beginning to climb one of the larger trees, hoping he didn't dip it over. But he had faith in its roots as he sat atop of it, staring to the moon as his hands came out, a few tears streaming down his sides without a cry as he cupped the moon in his hands, completely in awe of how beautiful the moon was, missing it so much. Closing his eyes, he imagined he was still holding it, and hugged it to his chest, lowering his head too as he felt a sudden peace within himself.
Zar'Dura.
Zar'Dura. She was alive!! He remembered! Spinning around, his eyes lit up, remembering the fate he happened to not have sentenced her to. Joy filled him, and he leapt from the tree, landing down with a fist punching into the ground. Standing up he looked to the hut, marching forward and attempting to push it open. However, he found difficulty, and frowning as he pushed harder with his left hand, hearing a tear and halting as he looked to the side of the door, the wood torn from its body. His eyes widened as he couldn't hold a laugh, laughing mightily in the middle of the night as he clutched onto his stomach, pounding the ground next to him a couple of times and rolling over to fetal position. Oh goodness how he missed being strong.
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Zar'Dura the Listener
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 250
Age: 19
Physical Description: At 6'3", Zar'Dura is somewhat small, even for a female Orc, and she is not as muscular as most. Her skin is a greenish-brownish-grey color that is common to her race, and her features, while not what humans would consider beautiful, are delicate for her kind, with full lips and two small tusks protruding upward from behind her lower lip. Her eyes are a startling amber-gold color, and her hair is black, worn in tightly-bound ropes often adorned with charms and rings carved of wood and stone.
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Clothes and Equipment: Most frequently, she can be seen wearing a set of fur-and-leather robes, adorned with fangs, claws, and a single wolf femur, with a single strap that lays across her right shoulder, leaving the other bare. Occasionally, she wears armor of leather and iron, created for her by her parents. Her usual equipment consists of a simple wooden staff carved with runes.
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Player's online availability : Evenings. (EST)
Registered: Feb 10, 2016 19:17:02 GMT -8
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Post by Zar'Dura the Listener on Aug 16, 2016 13:51:45 GMT -8
Exhaustion meant Dura slept deeply, not hearing the bellowing of Thorok or the cavorting of Theev'Nok. She slept clear through the night and into morning, and likely would've slept even longer had hunger not driven her from her slumber. Bleary eyes blinked slowly open, and she found herself in their bed, with Daris curled around her, almost as though he were trying to protect her from something.. or comfort himself. Perhaps it was a bit of both? She snuggled closer to him, gently pressing her brow to his, then wriggled out of his arms with a tired grunt and rose from the bed. Moving to the door, she wrinkled her nose in puzzlement upon seeing it latched, and the wood near the hinges strained. What..? Unlatching the door, she pulled it open and stepped outside, looking around for any sight of Theev'Nok and Thorok.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 21, 2024 15:25:21 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Aug 16, 2016 16:10:25 GMT -8
Within a small corner of the platform was a large structured campfire, ablaze with a large deer atop of it. The giant known as Theev'Nok was the only one seen at that time, his hands fiddling with something at the end of one of the fire logs. His face seemed calm, content, barely focused as he looked around once more, a mighty sense of peace coming from within him. His eyes continued to flutter around, catching onto a finch darting through the air. His jaws parted as an entertained grin grew, spinning around to see that of Zar'Dura as the finch escaped his vision.
His eyes widened, his grin growing even more as he sprinted forth, his feet connecting with the ground to make a mighty rumble with each step. His arms swung forth as he neared her, spreading them apart where he'd force a hug, lifting her into the air and spinning her around with glee.
"ZAR'DURA!?!?!" He roared mightily, laughing and leaping into the air, his feet simultaneously connecting with the ground as he looked down to her, squeezing quite fairly as he let out a small roar of pent up energy. "By the heavens, my own Zar'Dura!!!" He dropped her, swooping in once more for another spine-crackling hug, then letting her go as he looked to her, dropping to his knees so he could get a bit closer to maintaining eye contact, looking down with wonder.
"When I... well, when I died-" He chuckled mightily, his face growing wider with that smile. "I had thought I forsaken you to a terrible fate." His face softened for a moment, staring down to the ground next to her feet, before his face lit back up as his hands raised with the excitement he had. "BUT THAT ISN'T THE CASE!! Ohhhh by the heavens- Was it you!?" He dragged his leg up and stepped closer into her, his right arm resting atop his knee as he pushed her shoulder playfully. "Did my little Leaf-Listener bring me back!?" His face was aglow with wonder, respect, regret, excitement, pure love, like that from a dog. His loss seemed to be completely ignored, as well as his torture for now, as a hundred percent of his attention was aimed on her.
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Zar'Dura the Listener
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 250
Age: 19
Physical Description: At 6'3", Zar'Dura is somewhat small, even for a female Orc, and she is not as muscular as most. Her skin is a greenish-brownish-grey color that is common to her race, and her features, while not what humans would consider beautiful, are delicate for her kind, with full lips and two small tusks protruding upward from behind her lower lip. Her eyes are a startling amber-gold color, and her hair is black, worn in tightly-bound ropes often adorned with charms and rings carved of wood and stone.
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Clothes and Equipment: Most frequently, she can be seen wearing a set of fur-and-leather robes, adorned with fangs, claws, and a single wolf femur, with a single strap that lays across her right shoulder, leaving the other bare. Occasionally, she wears armor of leather and iron, created for her by her parents. Her usual equipment consists of a simple wooden staff carved with runes.
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Player's online availability : Evenings. (EST)
Registered: Feb 10, 2016 19:17:02 GMT -8
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Post by Zar'Dura the Listener on Aug 16, 2016 16:59:48 GMT -8
Ah, there was the Brute. Dura couldn't help but grin as Theev'Nok spotted her, and then the mountain of an Orc was running over, sweeping her up into his arms. Unable to help her excitement at seeing her friend alive again, she flung her arms around his thick neck and bonked her forehead against his in a gesture of excitement, not even doing anything more than laughing uproariously as he squeezed her so vigorously that she felt her spine and a few ribs pop. Patting his shoulders when she was finally set down, she beamed up at the hulking Orc and nodded.
"Thorok saved me that day. Although your loss sent me into the darkness of despair. Daris'Fall helped to draw me out of it, but for quite some time, I blamed myself for your death. But now.. now you are back." Hands still on his shoulders, she leaned in, pressing her brow to the other Orc's once more, firmly but not with the forceful thump she had before. Her voice was quiet as she spoke again, tinged with a multitude of emotions. "Yes, Theev'Nok. I guided your soul back to your body. I have grown much since that day on the Stone Plains."
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Daris'Fall, The Rising Blade
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 167
Age: 19
Physical Description: Small for an orcish warrior Daris is just over six foot six, a good 6 inches below average height. Despite his height, he still has the build of a warrior. He is surprisingly light on his feet and very flexible. Like most orcs he has a powerful jawline, heavy brow, and protruding tusks. By orc standards he is considered to be quite the looker. Coupled with his status in the tribe, he has more than a few young orcish woman looking to win his eye.
-
Clothes and Equipment: Like most warriors Daris prefer light simply armor for his day to day wear. This armor allows for freedom of movement in combat, essential to his fighting style.
His weapon is a slightly curved sword, with a long grip. It can easily be wielded in one or two hands, and is designed for slashing attacks. His sword is made of a single carved piece of living stone. A gift from the earth, the blade is preternaturally sharp, durable, and bound to him. He can summon it to his hand, and use it channel his magics.
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Registered: Mar 12, 2016 16:09:38 GMT -8
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Post by Daris'Fall, The Rising Blade on Aug 16, 2016 20:28:14 GMT -8
Daris grins as Theev'Nok enthusiastically greets Dura. It was good at least one of the elders retained their spirit. The young warriors eyes sweep the area outside their hut. He doesn't spot the shadow that was once his cousin. Daris isn't sure how he feels about that. The vitriol the orc had spat did not sit well with the warrior. Still he believed that he'd made the right choice. Thorok had once been the best of what Falkreath offered. Perhaps the shame Daris laid upon their chief would remind Thorok of that. Remind the orc of the man he'd once been. For now Daris greets Theev'Nok. Pounding a fist to his heart in respect.
"It is good to see you once again Theev'Nok. We met briefly once on the training fields. I remember the lessons you imparted on me well."
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 21, 2024 15:25:21 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Aug 24, 2016 7:10:39 GMT -8
"A- I just- Za- ARGHH!!!" The mighty pillar lifted her up again, hugging her mightily as he jumped into the air, falling to the ground as he rolled over his shoulder, laughing mightily. "YOU SAVED ME!?!!?" He shouted again in disbelief, hugging her for a long time in gratitude, and for comfort. He was finally back, and a pup from the village saved him. A lot of morals and famous quotes among the villagers and whatnot spun through his head to give him a mightily humored laugh.
"Ahhh!! Thorok!!! Who else, yes? Such a great man... he is..." He looked up for a moment, frowning as he was sitting on his ankles as he let her go, looking to the pyre which he built with the deer atop of it. Looking back to Zar'Dura, he pushed her shoulder with his finger gently, saying, "Well I should find him and thank him as well, shouldn't I? I have quite the story to tell you... perhaps... perhaps our village is blind.." His smile softened till a serious face crossed him. "I feel like we were wrong about... about necromancy. If you saved me... then... then this place I was... it is not rest."
From there, he looked up to an orc, standing with a fist on his chest. It appeared that in his excitement whatever Daris had said wasn't heard. His eyes flashed in surprise for a moment before he stood tall, staring down once more to the other orc. "My my, the famous wolf cub!" He marched towards his kin, hooking an arm around his head as knuckles lifted to firmly grind against his cap. "And you would be my little listener's savior!" He chuckled, tossing him into the air as he swung his arms around him firmly, hugging with a mighty strength as he let the orc fall back down, hands on his hips with an entertained and enthusiastic grin on his face. "I owe you much, but perhaps for now a good feast can be of payment." He joked, turning as he walked towards the fire, his arm reaching into the flames quickly and pulling out the charcoaled deer, putting it over his shoulder with ease as it balanced itself out.
"Where is our chief? And--" He turned around with a sudden thought coming to him. "Why are we here? We should be in Falkreath!" He exclaimed, looking back to Zar'Dura. "I want to see Falkreath, Zar'Dura. Wherever we are, this isn't our home." His excitement lowered as a bit of confusion crossed his face. "I miss the sounds of Mongthol, where is the magic that I once felt from the trolls? Where are the wards that soared high in our eyes? Where are the voices our people spoke and laughed with?" Turning back around to face Zar'Dura, his eyebrows frowned with much confusion and annoyance, possibly aggrivation. "Where is my Falkreath?"
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Zar'Dura the Listener
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 250
Age: 19
Physical Description: At 6'3", Zar'Dura is somewhat small, even for a female Orc, and she is not as muscular as most. Her skin is a greenish-brownish-grey color that is common to her race, and her features, while not what humans would consider beautiful, are delicate for her kind, with full lips and two small tusks protruding upward from behind her lower lip. Her eyes are a startling amber-gold color, and her hair is black, worn in tightly-bound ropes often adorned with charms and rings carved of wood and stone.
--------------------------
Clothes and Equipment: Most frequently, she can be seen wearing a set of fur-and-leather robes, adorned with fangs, claws, and a single wolf femur, with a single strap that lays across her right shoulder, leaving the other bare. Occasionally, she wears armor of leather and iron, created for her by her parents. Her usual equipment consists of a simple wooden staff carved with runes.
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Player's online availability : Evenings. (EST)
Registered: Feb 10, 2016 19:17:02 GMT -8
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Post by Zar'Dura the Listener on Aug 24, 2016 8:24:53 GMT -8
Theev'Nok's exuberance was highly entertaining, as well as a bit infectious. Mention of thanking Thorok drew her gaze around in search, and her brow furrowed with puzzlement. Where had their Thuri gone? Hearing Theev'Nok say they were wrong about necromancy drew a sharp look to him, which then transferred to Daris, one of both question and concern. And then came the hard questions from Theev'Nok: Where was Thorok? Where were they? Why weren't they in Falkreath? And that was when she lowered her head, looking down at the ground as she replied.
"I do not know where Thorok is. We are in a place called the Land-Tiller's Expanse. Falkreath is... I do not know where Falkreath is. After you fell, Daris'Fall and I were sent out on a quest by Shorbolg, and when we returned.. Falkreath and all the surrounding land was gone. Thorok knows where it is, but we.. we settled here." She raised her head and looked at the Brute once more, her golden eyes shining.
"This is our home now, Theev'Nok. Daris'Fall and I have built a life here. Together." The weight placed within that one word left little doubt as to the kind of 'together' she meant.
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Daris'Fall, The Rising Blade
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 167
Age: 19
Physical Description: Small for an orcish warrior Daris is just over six foot six, a good 6 inches below average height. Despite his height, he still has the build of a warrior. He is surprisingly light on his feet and very flexible. Like most orcs he has a powerful jawline, heavy brow, and protruding tusks. By orc standards he is considered to be quite the looker. Coupled with his status in the tribe, he has more than a few young orcish woman looking to win his eye.
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Clothes and Equipment: Like most warriors Daris prefer light simply armor for his day to day wear. This armor allows for freedom of movement in combat, essential to his fighting style.
His weapon is a slightly curved sword, with a long grip. It can easily be wielded in one or two hands, and is designed for slashing attacks. His sword is made of a single carved piece of living stone. A gift from the earth, the blade is preternaturally sharp, durable, and bound to him. He can summon it to his hand, and use it channel his magics.
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Registered: Mar 12, 2016 16:09:38 GMT -8
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Post by Daris'Fall, The Rising Blade on Aug 24, 2016 9:55:47 GMT -8
Daris joins in Theev'nok's revelry. This was how an orc of Falkreath should act. Even when the weight of loss is upon them they should be unbowed. Theev'nok who had suffered his own death, celebrated his life rather than dwell upon it. When the large orc set him down Daris claps his shoulder and smiles. Then the older orc asks the questions that Daris knew must come. Bowing his head Daris says solemnly.
"It is as Zar'Dura says. Falkreath has gone. My cousin has been poisoned by it's lose."
Then the warrior looks up with a fierce grin.
"But do not despair Theev'nok. You to were once thought lost. Your return means hope is never truly gone, despite what my cousin may believe."
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 21, 2024 15:25:21 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Aug 24, 2016 10:24:30 GMT -8
Theev'Nok's cut ears flicked at the name of these lands. They lived among men... among men? This didn't seem right. This land was claimed, so what- wait. Had his kin stooped so low as to need to adopt new land? His heart sunk in his chest as he dropped to his knees, the rest of the words registering into his mind. He looked to the ground below him, his hands sinking into the ground as the deer carelessly fell over his shoulder.
"Then... then we can find it. Thorok will.. Thor-" He choked up a bit as he jumped to his feet, looking around as the eleven foot beast was seen punched, the wind taken from him as he staggered back as he tried to gain strength to bare this news. And then he heard together. Together. The word made him lighten up only a flinch, for right there it didn't matter. Right there, his father, his motherland, it was gone. He ended up slumping back down on his rump, his knees bent as he rested his elbows upon his knees, his eyes drifting to the floor.
Then Daris'Fall spoke. The Rising Blade's words continued to punch at Theev'Nok's mindset. Standing up, with a vib of discomfort rising, he looked to Daris'Fall with offense. His hand raised as he pointed to Daris. "No orc, let alone his own kin, could ever talk about family like that." His loss of his homeland was forgotten right there. And instinct, like a dog, took over. To defend his master's honor. The way Daris'Fall spoke of his Thuri's poisoned mind was not what angered him. No, but in that moment, his mindset scanned the words over again and he felt as if, especially with that misjudged grin upon the orc's face, that a Frok'Nold was taking pleasure in bashing their Chieftan.
"....I.....I will go find Thorok." His feet staggered backwards as his finger pointed in between them as his eyes turned to Zar'Dura. "And I pray things will be calmer from hereon out. Too much has been told to me for any more pain.... I-I wi-" His coughing made his head jerk, where a tear crashed to the floor. A tear which Zar'Dura would know all too comfortably. "...Shave the deer of its charred skin, it would be a shame if I go hungry another day.." He tried to joke, a soft smile rising as he looked to Zar'Dura one more time before he began aimlessly marching towards the forest.
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Zar'Dura the Listener
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 250
Age: 19
Physical Description: At 6'3", Zar'Dura is somewhat small, even for a female Orc, and she is not as muscular as most. Her skin is a greenish-brownish-grey color that is common to her race, and her features, while not what humans would consider beautiful, are delicate for her kind, with full lips and two small tusks protruding upward from behind her lower lip. Her eyes are a startling amber-gold color, and her hair is black, worn in tightly-bound ropes often adorned with charms and rings carved of wood and stone.
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Clothes and Equipment: Most frequently, she can be seen wearing a set of fur-and-leather robes, adorned with fangs, claws, and a single wolf femur, with a single strap that lays across her right shoulder, leaving the other bare. Occasionally, she wears armor of leather and iron, created for her by her parents. Her usual equipment consists of a simple wooden staff carved with runes.
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Player's online availability : Evenings. (EST)
Registered: Feb 10, 2016 19:17:02 GMT -8
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Post by Zar'Dura the Listener on Aug 24, 2016 10:40:00 GMT -8
Zar'Dura said nothing, and watched in dismayed silence. Then her shoulders slumped, and she watched as Theev'Nok walked away, before a hand rose to press to her brow. Moving to the deer, she bypassed Daris, speaking quietly.
"..I think our time of peace is over, Daris." It was true, they had been without their friends and families. But they had each other. And now... Now Thorok and Theev'Nok were here. She should've been happy to see them. And she was happy to see Theev alive again. But Thorok wasn't Thorok anymore, and they had invaded their life, and nothing was ever going to be the same again. There was a defeated air about her as she began to silently remove the inedible portions of the deer along with its fur.
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Daris'Fall, The Rising Blade
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 167
Age: 19
Physical Description: Small for an orcish warrior Daris is just over six foot six, a good 6 inches below average height. Despite his height, he still has the build of a warrior. He is surprisingly light on his feet and very flexible. Like most orcs he has a powerful jawline, heavy brow, and protruding tusks. By orc standards he is considered to be quite the looker. Coupled with his status in the tribe, he has more than a few young orcish woman looking to win his eye.
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Clothes and Equipment: Like most warriors Daris prefer light simply armor for his day to day wear. This armor allows for freedom of movement in combat, essential to his fighting style.
His weapon is a slightly curved sword, with a long grip. It can easily be wielded in one or two hands, and is designed for slashing attacks. His sword is made of a single carved piece of living stone. A gift from the earth, the blade is preternaturally sharp, durable, and bound to him. He can summon it to his hand, and use it channel his magics.
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Registered: Mar 12, 2016 16:09:38 GMT -8
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Post by Daris'Fall, The Rising Blade on Aug 27, 2016 12:04:47 GMT -8
Daris offers no reply to Theev'Nok's admonishment. Daris had spoken only the truth. He had done so as politely as he could. There was no honor in lying. Thorok has spat venom at Daris and Dura. There was no excuse for that. At his wife's words Daris turns and pulls her into his arms. He offers no words of comfort. For she is right, their time of peace did appear to be over. Still they had each other. Daris would allow no one to deny them that. Not even their Thuri.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 21, 2024 15:25:21 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Aug 28, 2016 16:55:07 GMT -8
But yet, despite all that was said, there was losso f one truth. The reaping of Thorok's blood, to call him "poisoned" proved that if any honor was there in the beginning, than it surely died out, proving that the kin of such a warrior wouldn't truly have carried on Thorok's own previous greatness downforth. But yet, even as that simmered in Theev'Nok's head, he let it corrupt his mindset, causing his face to crunch and growl as he couldn't bear the intolerance, nor the rebellious nature, that this child bared.
And from there Theev'Nok grew even more angry as his walk went astray, continuing to search for Thorok as he thought upon Daris' action. He spoke so proudly, so dignified, as if he was a Thuri of some people. And with how they spoke.. with how the young minds spoke.. it truly sunk into Theev'Nok's mind that whatever their honor bore, it was not of righteousness. The way Daris grinned to Theev'Nok completely put him off, images of how he possibly had and would continue to corrupt his own little Listener filling his head.
Much angrier now, Theev'Nok bellowed out Thorok's name into the wilderness, sending rabbits astray as well as birds to the air. He continued to look around before he found his Thuri, within a small opening in the wooded area around them. The pillar sighed, his face calming to a neutral-depressed state, his hand reaching up to the tree beside him as he took one step into the sunlit grass.
And there, and there would Thorok stand. His legs coated with dried blood from the stag, his muscles clenched together as his spear gripped heavily in his arm. His eyes glared to the floor below him, his back seen expanding and shrinking, as Theev'Nok came to see Thorok from behind. But within Thorok's own mind had a completely melancholy state taken course. At first, at first he considered his cousin's loss. How now, rather than a desire for his people, he found himself content to live alone with another, considering that his own desires were all a cub in this world should focus on. At that moment did another thought come across his mind, how he regretted ever considering such a boy as the next to take his own place. And then his mind traveled to Zar'Dura as Theev'Nok continued to stare in silence. How she at least understood, which surprised him with how the she-orc bared such a more caring nature towards him than that of his own blood.
At that moment, physically, his arm clenched around his spear, his entire arm flexed with all the aggression it could onto his weapon, his other hand clenching into itself so that the rage within drew blood from his palm, trailing down to his knuckles. From there, Theev'Nok's heavy intake of air was heard, where Thorok's left ear twitched, before his own lips parted:
"It felt like forever... that I would walk among a land of udder nightmare and chaos.. that my people had fallen to whatever creatures consumed such a realm.. and now... and now I imagine them better off dead..." His body took a left step backwards before turning back to Theev'Nok, his eyes consumed with a fire burning inside. A fire that seemed to only feed more and more upon the hatred that was now consuming Thorok, rather than that of desperation and agony. "Tell me how to stop this." His voice grew to nearly break at that moment, his head lowered as he continued to stare to Theev'Nok.
At that moment did Theev'Nok continue to march forward, until his entire figure was within the light. ".... I cannot." He spoke suddenly, making Thorok instantly react with a sigh. "I remember you, I remember you strong, and proud. A leader whom we all kissed the ground beneath. A warrior who kept us safe, as a fam-" "Do not, speak to me of family-" "My Thuri-"
With a sudden roar, the Chieftan threw his spear into the air, wizzing by Theev'Nok's head. His chest pumped up as his teeth were bared. "I!! AM NOT!! YOUR LEADER!!!!" The roar echoed throughout the woods nearby, and from there, a weakness consumed Thorok. At that moment did he feel his spirit drifting, as his knees connected to the ground, his body falling forward and his elbows dug into the dirt. Finding Theev'Nok's foot, he clutched to it with all the strength he had at that moment, which was little. "......Save me, Theev'Nok...." He whispered out. A sigh came from Theev'Nok, looking away for a moment before a sudden snapping of a branch above them came to Thorok's ears.
Looking above, he would see Theev'Nok The Brute, with a sharp branch in his hands, launching it high into the air before grunting heavily as he brought it down upon Thorok. At this time, Thorok's instant reaction was to clutch onto the branch, feeling it punch his stomach. But yet, he felt no death, which made him believe he caught it in time. Theev'Nok, who leaned over now to look to Thorok's eyes, his own returning to a calmer state. "This is as much as I can help you, my Thuri." With that, the brute let go of the large stake, turning around to march his way back to where he found their hut.
And right there, Thorok's head fell to the ground, sighing before a coughing grew from lack of strength. Lack of strength to barely hold back tears. Looking to his left, he sighed as he tried to throw the branch, but yet, grunted once he found out such did not happen. Looking back to his stomach did he see how the branch had entered him, where his eyes narrowed, his irises glowing with sudden awe. Using a new strength that crawled into his veins from adrenaline, he slowly witnessed the branch exiting his body, leaving his skin to be that of untouched. And at that moment would Thorok launch upwards, standing up and looking around with the branch tight in his right hand.
The blessing. The power that was blessed to the Chieftan and he alone. That no orc of his tribe shall maim nor end him. At that moment did heavy, rapid breaths embrace Thorok, looking around for a moment before staring back down to his stomach. His head was growing dizzy, stumbling as he leaned against a tree. At that moment, so many thoughts raced through his head. At first, he was glad of this. And then, then Thorok realized what this meant. His people. A people of yore, who still lived, somewhere. Somewhere, lost, yes, but not gone. And at that moment did Thorok look to the branch before dropping it to look at his hand. Clutching his forearm with his scarred hand, he brought that which held the branch closer to his face. And at that moment, at that moment did he accept what was true, and what was farce. Dropping his hands to his sides, he looked upwards, and then to his legs, seeing how his appearance was quite informal. With that, the Chieftan marched through the forest, for the time being. After all, he had some more cleaning up to do.
Theev'Nok, who was standing nearby the hut, bouncing on his feet as he tried to wash away the growing disappointment he had in the Chieftan's cousin, shook his head as he walked back onto the grounds in front of the hut, looking for the both of them for the new he would have brought now. Likewise, his spirit was calm and his body relaxed, though an upset mood was within his eyes as he gazed around for his kin.
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