Eleniel Windsong
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 380 
Age: 208
Physical Description: As with many Elves, Eleniel is not terribly tall; at an unimpressive 5'4", she is, like most of her race, slender and fine-boned, with delicate, beautiful features. She also possesses the characteristic pointed ears of the Elves. Her hair is long, usually falling unrestrained to her hips, and is a shade of golden-blonde. Her eyes are grey, but not cool, as they are often filled with warmth, friendliness, and other positive emotions.
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Clothes and Equipment: Pertaining to her wardrobe, Eleniel is a study in contrasts. She thinks nothing of wearing a dress one day, then running around in tunic and breeches the next. She carries with her frequently a bow and quiver of green-and-white fletched arrows, and her rapier.
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Player's online availability : Evenings. (EST)
Registered: Feb 17, 2016 10:49:22 GMT -8
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Post by Eleniel Windsong on Aug 15, 2016 9:40:40 GMT -8
Len had been working steadily at the rope, loosening the knot until she could reach down and untie the rope where it wound around her waist. Shortly after this happened, she heard the bandit land behind her, and she knew the time had come to act. She heard the ting of metal against metal somewhere ahead of her, the pounding of hooves, but couldn't see what was going on.. yet. She quickly ducked her head and pulled at the cloth covering her eyes, yanking it down around her neck, then she slammed her right elbow back into the bandit's knee, hard. It wouldn't do a lot of damage (she might have been able to break it, had it been a kick, but alas, it wasn't), but the true distraction would come in her simultaneously jerking her head back in an attempt to veritably headbutt him right in the groin.
Regardless, barely had the attacks been launched than she was throwing herself forward into a roll, and if she wasn't grabbed, she'd get to her feet and bolt toward Nicolas - or rather, toward Oerin, who was barreling along right beside the Duke's charger. Shaking hands plucked at the rope which still circled her wrists, ignoring the pain and blood as she sought to fully untie her bonds so she could help fight. While all this was going on, Kye was soaring about the fighting men, seeking to dart in and rake at vulnerable bandit skin with razor-sharp talons.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 21, 2024 3:35:48 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Aug 21, 2016 3:53:25 GMT -8
This was going all wrong. The mounted bandits were doing little apparently, the ones from the initial drop were losing their fights, and the leader was doing little to the Lord. The blow to his knee was enough to make him roll back off his feet and just miss that spear flying at him - and thankfully, protect his family jewels from the little bitch's headbutt. And she scrambled up and away from him.
He abandoned his comrades and tore off into the forest, well away from the fight. This had gone all wrong... no point in dying like the rest of them. He could find more men in due time...
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Duke Nicolas Soult
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 290 
Age: 27
Physical Description: He is a taller man, standing at 6'2" and weighing about 200lbs. He is fairly lean, and exercises regularly in addition to training, making him incredibly fit. He has brown hair and green eyes that go well with his tanned skin.
Clothes and Equipment: He maintains a modest attire, preferring simple, well-fitted clothing to the gaudy outifts worn by some of Gauldin's other nobility. A black shirt with his family's crest on it (an eagle) combined with gray pants is his preferred attire when not in battle. In battle he wears heavier armor, usually plate without the helmet. A longsword permanently adorns his hip, the blade a family heirloom enchanted by a storm being aeons ago. Lightning crackles up and diwn the blade when it is wielded with the intent to kill.
Registered: Jun 1, 2016 6:56:38 GMT -8
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Post by Duke Nicolas Soult on Aug 22, 2016 17:50:00 GMT -8
Lord Soult reined to a halt just in front of his beloved and flung a final spear at the escaping bandit. He doubted it would hit, and it was mostly flung in anger.
"Are you alright Eleniel?"
His eyes were still alight with a burning desire for vengeance and battle against thise who had done this, and even as he asked the question his gaze darted back towards where his knights still fought for their lives. He wanted to take her in his arms and ride back to the safety of his castle, and there leave her. But he knew she was more than capable of defending herself, and that with Oerin here and the leader having run off, he should aid his knights, they were hard-pressed to hold their own against the dual assault, and only their own skill had saved them from mortal injury, though an accumulation of wounds was beginning to tell on them.
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Eleniel Windsong
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 380
Age: 208
Physical Description: As with many Elves, Eleniel is not terribly tall; at an unimpressive 5'4", she is, like most of her race, slender and fine-boned, with delicate, beautiful features. She also possesses the characteristic pointed ears of the Elves. Her hair is long, usually falling unrestrained to her hips, and is a shade of golden-blonde. Her eyes are grey, but not cool, as they are often filled with warmth, friendliness, and other positive emotions.
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Clothes and Equipment: Pertaining to her wardrobe, Eleniel is a study in contrasts. She thinks nothing of wearing a dress one day, then running around in tunic and breeches the next. She carries with her frequently a bow and quiver of green-and-white fletched arrows, and her rapier.
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Player's online availability : Evenings. (EST)
Registered: Feb 17, 2016 10:49:22 GMT -8
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Post by Eleniel Windsong on Aug 22, 2016 20:38:32 GMT -8
Len had managed to get the rope off, and was now working on the blindfold and the gag, both resting around her neck, no more than ragged strips of cloth. She was heaving jagged sobs, mostly of anger, but also of fear and worry. Her hands were shaking as she yanked at the fabric, tears filling her eyes but not falling. She looked up at Nicolas, and it was clear that she wanted to crawl into his arms and hide there, but she wouldn't - he needed to help his men. So she only sniffled vigorously for a moment and gave a jerky nod.
"Yes, I.. I'm fine. They didn't hurt me." ..Other than the bloodied wrists from the ropes which had bound her, but she didn't want to point that out.. it would only make him more angry. Hauling herself up onto Oerin's back, she pulled her rapier from its sheath thrust into the saddle, and turned her gaze to the bandits still fighting Nicolas's knights. Heeling Oerin in their direction, the gelding leaped into action, and she held her blade at the ready - she was more then willing to kill any of these bastards.
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Duke Nicolas Soult
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 290
Age: 27
Physical Description: He is a taller man, standing at 6'2" and weighing about 200lbs. He is fairly lean, and exercises regularly in addition to training, making him incredibly fit. He has brown hair and green eyes that go well with his tanned skin.
Clothes and Equipment: He maintains a modest attire, preferring simple, well-fitted clothing to the gaudy outifts worn by some of Gauldin's other nobility. A black shirt with his family's crest on it (an eagle) combined with gray pants is his preferred attire when not in battle. In battle he wears heavier armor, usually plate without the helmet. A longsword permanently adorns his hip, the blade a family heirloom enchanted by a storm being aeons ago. Lightning crackles up and diwn the blade when it is wielded with the intent to kill.
Registered: Jun 1, 2016 6:56:38 GMT -8
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Post by Duke Nicolas Soult on Aug 25, 2016 8:59:00 GMT -8
With a final gasp, the knight on the ground expired, Soult too late to save him from the sword thrust of the bandit. But he could avenge him, and the bandit's head was separated from his body as Soult rode past, his remaining knights finishing off the bandits that had landed on their horses. Those that were on horseback fought on, but were easily outmatched by the no longer distracted knights led by their furious Lord. Two bandits made it out of the melee alive, only to be struck by hurled spears in the back.
A relief party arrived a few minutes later, mainly a group of men-at-arms on foot that had followed another of Soult's knights along their path. Soult was kneeling on the ground by the body of one of his knights, fighting the tears he knew would come later and ignoring several wounds that had come about as a result of the fight. He had yet to say a word since his Knight had fallen. His household knights had served his family for years, many of them having served his father and been as a mentor to the young Lord.
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Eleniel Windsong
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 380
Age: 208
Physical Description: As with many Elves, Eleniel is not terribly tall; at an unimpressive 5'4", she is, like most of her race, slender and fine-boned, with delicate, beautiful features. She also possesses the characteristic pointed ears of the Elves. Her hair is long, usually falling unrestrained to her hips, and is a shade of golden-blonde. Her eyes are grey, but not cool, as they are often filled with warmth, friendliness, and other positive emotions.
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Clothes and Equipment: Pertaining to her wardrobe, Eleniel is a study in contrasts. She thinks nothing of wearing a dress one day, then running around in tunic and breeches the next. She carries with her frequently a bow and quiver of green-and-white fletched arrows, and her rapier.
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Player's online availability : Evenings. (EST)
Registered: Feb 17, 2016 10:49:22 GMT -8
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Post by Eleniel Windsong on Aug 25, 2016 11:36:58 GMT -8
Len had lashed out with the rapier where she could, seeking to plunge it into vulnerable areas on the bandits where she could. Not the easiest thing to do, from horseback - the rapier was best used when on the ground, but she'd been seeking speed, not efficiency. Once the bandits were dealt with, she looked around to see where Nicolas was, only to spot him knelt on the ground beside one of his fallen knights, fighting back tears. Uncaring of her own aches and maimed wrists, she quickly cleaned off her rapier and thrust it back into its scabbard, then launched herself off of Oerin's back and ran over to Nicolas. She fell to her knees beside him, and reached toward the Duke.. only to stop herself. How he must hate her right now. She'd gone and been careless enough to let herself be captured, and as a result, one of his people had died. She pulled her hands back into her body, curling them against her chest, and ducked her head as she murmured in a voice thick with tears and guilt.
"I'm so sorry. This is all my fault." She was wondering if she should just go ahead and leave. Doubtless he didn't want to look at her. Her lips quivered as she fought the urge to cry, and shifted until she could get her feet beneath her, rocking back onto her heels with the intent of standing and departing.
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Duke Nicolas Soult
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 290
Age: 27
Physical Description: He is a taller man, standing at 6'2" and weighing about 200lbs. He is fairly lean, and exercises regularly in addition to training, making him incredibly fit. He has brown hair and green eyes that go well with his tanned skin.
Clothes and Equipment: He maintains a modest attire, preferring simple, well-fitted clothing to the gaudy outifts worn by some of Gauldin's other nobility. A black shirt with his family's crest on it (an eagle) combined with gray pants is his preferred attire when not in battle. In battle he wears heavier armor, usually plate without the helmet. A longsword permanently adorns his hip, the blade a family heirloom enchanted by a storm being aeons ago. Lightning crackles up and diwn the blade when it is wielded with the intent to kill.
Registered: Jun 1, 2016 6:56:38 GMT -8
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Post by Duke Nicolas Soult on Aug 26, 2016 6:43:21 GMT -8
He didn't hear her approach, but he heard her words, and they startled him back to reality. He held her blameless for this, if anything it was his fault, he shouldn't have assumed the recent crackdown on banditry would not be met with some kind of retaliation, and he should have escorted her himself.
He stood and turned towards her, folding his arms around her and holding her tightly, as though he would never let go again. Regardless of whose fault it was, there was only one whom he would hold responsible, and that man would be hunted down like the dog he was.
"Len, none of this is your fault. You have no need to be sorry at all. He was a good man, and his death will be avenged. I should have sent people to escort you back, then none of this would have happened. I love you Eleniel and I am so glad that you are safe now."
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Eleniel Windsong
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 380
Age: 208
Physical Description: As with many Elves, Eleniel is not terribly tall; at an unimpressive 5'4", she is, like most of her race, slender and fine-boned, with delicate, beautiful features. She also possesses the characteristic pointed ears of the Elves. Her hair is long, usually falling unrestrained to her hips, and is a shade of golden-blonde. Her eyes are grey, but not cool, as they are often filled with warmth, friendliness, and other positive emotions.
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Clothes and Equipment: Pertaining to her wardrobe, Eleniel is a study in contrasts. She thinks nothing of wearing a dress one day, then running around in tunic and breeches the next. She carries with her frequently a bow and quiver of green-and-white fletched arrows, and her rapier.
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Player's online availability : Evenings. (EST)
Registered: Feb 17, 2016 10:49:22 GMT -8
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Post by Eleniel Windsong on Aug 26, 2016 8:20:34 GMT -8
Len looked up at Nicolas with wide, tear-filled eyes and an expression of sorrow, then breathed a sob of relief when he took her into his arms. Her own wrapped around his waist, holding him as tightly as she could in his armored state, uncaring of the cold metal that pressed against her cheek as she clung to him. Her head shook slightly to refute his words, and her own reply was slightly muffled by the fact that her face was semi-hidden against his chest.
"I was so stupid. I was so sad to leave you and I was crying so hard I could barely see, and then I came to the place where we met and I stopped for a moment to try and compose myself, and I shouldn't have gotten down off Oerin, if I hadn't I might have been able to run away, but I did and they took me and I'm so sorry." Sniffling pitifully, she raised her head as a pair of tears rolled down her cheeks, and looked up at him once more.
"I love you, too, Nicolas. But.. it looks like you've been injured. We should get you home and tend to those wounds." Yet another thing that was her fault, and the guilt of it weighed on her visibly, flashing through her eyes before she turned her gaze away.
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Duke Nicolas Soult
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 290
Age: 27
Physical Description: He is a taller man, standing at 6'2" and weighing about 200lbs. He is fairly lean, and exercises regularly in addition to training, making him incredibly fit. He has brown hair and green eyes that go well with his tanned skin.
Clothes and Equipment: He maintains a modest attire, preferring simple, well-fitted clothing to the gaudy outifts worn by some of Gauldin's other nobility. A black shirt with his family's crest on it (an eagle) combined with gray pants is his preferred attire when not in battle. In battle he wears heavier armor, usually plate without the helmet. A longsword permanently adorns his hip, the blade a family heirloom enchanted by a storm being aeons ago. Lightning crackles up and diwn the blade when it is wielded with the intent to kill.
Registered: Jun 1, 2016 6:56:38 GMT -8
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Post by Duke Nicolas Soult on Aug 29, 2016 11:56:49 GMT -8
He kissed her once more upon the brow, dismissing her opinion of what he should do about his injuries with a shake of his head.
"It is not your fault for not exoecting to be harassed and kidnapped just for stopping by a creek. This isn't a lawless land normally, and stopping by a creek should be a safe thing to do. I hold you blameless in this my love."
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Eleniel Windsong
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 380
Age: 208
Physical Description: As with many Elves, Eleniel is not terribly tall; at an unimpressive 5'4", she is, like most of her race, slender and fine-boned, with delicate, beautiful features. She also possesses the characteristic pointed ears of the Elves. Her hair is long, usually falling unrestrained to her hips, and is a shade of golden-blonde. Her eyes are grey, but not cool, as they are often filled with warmth, friendliness, and other positive emotions.
----------------------------
Clothes and Equipment: Pertaining to her wardrobe, Eleniel is a study in contrasts. She thinks nothing of wearing a dress one day, then running around in tunic and breeches the next. She carries with her frequently a bow and quiver of green-and-white fletched arrows, and her rapier.
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Player's online availability : Evenings. (EST)
Registered: Feb 17, 2016 10:49:22 GMT -8
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Post by Eleniel Windsong on Aug 29, 2016 12:16:34 GMT -8
Nodding slowly but looking unconvinced, Eleniel let the subject drop. She wasn't going to press it, because even if he held her blameless, she didn't hold herself the same. Furiously swiping the tears from her cheeks, she reached up and stroked Nicolas' cheek, giving him a tiny smile.
"Alright. But please. Let me come with you back to the estate and tend your wounds. You gained them in my rescue and it's only right." Her tone was pleading. She didn't want to be away from him right now - the earlier departure had been hard enough, and after her capture and subsequent rescue.. she just needed to be with him.
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Duke Nicolas Soult
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 290
Age: 27
Physical Description: He is a taller man, standing at 6'2" and weighing about 200lbs. He is fairly lean, and exercises regularly in addition to training, making him incredibly fit. He has brown hair and green eyes that go well with his tanned skin.
Clothes and Equipment: He maintains a modest attire, preferring simple, well-fitted clothing to the gaudy outifts worn by some of Gauldin's other nobility. A black shirt with his family's crest on it (an eagle) combined with gray pants is his preferred attire when not in battle. In battle he wears heavier armor, usually plate without the helmet. A longsword permanently adorns his hip, the blade a family heirloom enchanted by a storm being aeons ago. Lightning crackles up and diwn the blade when it is wielded with the intent to kill.
Registered: Jun 1, 2016 6:56:38 GMT -8
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Post by Duke Nicolas Soult on Aug 30, 2016 3:33:52 GMT -8
He wasn't exactly ready to be away from her either, it would likely be a couple of days at least before he would be able to be convinced to let her leave his side or the protection of his soldiers.
"Very well Eleniel, I know better than to argue with you. Let us return to the Keep."
The men-at-arms carefully picked up the body of the fallen knight and laid him across a small stretcher to be born back to the castle in honor. Lord Soult would maintain pace with the procession as they marched back.
<Exit>
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Eleniel Windsong
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 380
Age: 208
Physical Description: As with many Elves, Eleniel is not terribly tall; at an unimpressive 5'4", she is, like most of her race, slender and fine-boned, with delicate, beautiful features. She also possesses the characteristic pointed ears of the Elves. Her hair is long, usually falling unrestrained to her hips, and is a shade of golden-blonde. Her eyes are grey, but not cool, as they are often filled with warmth, friendliness, and other positive emotions.
----------------------------
Clothes and Equipment: Pertaining to her wardrobe, Eleniel is a study in contrasts. She thinks nothing of wearing a dress one day, then running around in tunic and breeches the next. She carries with her frequently a bow and quiver of green-and-white fletched arrows, and her rapier.
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Player's online availability : Evenings. (EST)
Registered: Feb 17, 2016 10:49:22 GMT -8
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Post by Eleniel Windsong on Aug 30, 2016 7:01:19 GMT -8
Relief suffused her expression when Nicolas consented, and Len smiled once again, reluctantly withdrawing from his embrace and moving over to Oerin. Pulling herself up onto the gelding's back, she stuck close to Nicolas as they rode back, Kye watching from above. Today had been too close for comfort.
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