Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 7, 2024 12:47:03 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Jan 25, 2018 16:36:21 GMT -8
The Rumbling Pines
Named for the Winter Queen's common use of giants to spread frost along the ground, this location borders the Autumn Court's territory and doesn't like to stay frigid for long. The trees tower overhead, nearly blocking the sky in their number, though there's a fair amount of space on the ground to run around on. |
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Vesta
Established
Roleplay posts: 35 
Age: Immeasurable
Physical Description: =======================
Standing at a minute height of one foot tall, this tiny nature spirit appears, on the surface, to be merely a young girl in her late teens, and her excitable demeanour would appear to support that hypothesis. She has long, flowing fire red hair which undulates like the flames she embodies, and solid orange, glowing eyes that sparkle with mirth and passion and a love of life. Upon her back, two bright red butterfly wings spread out about her, tapering up to sharp tips, their shape harsh and almost jagged, though possessed of a sort of dissonant order, speaking of her natural element. Her skin is without blemishes, perfectly golden-white, touched by the sun. What little clothing she wears is made from the element of fire itself, in constant motion as it wraps about her surprisingly voluptuous figure, although it occasionally appears to simply be a very malleable fabric, appearing as shear silk. While nothing about her would suggest she's any older than she seems on the surface, those who know the Fae and their workings know she's more than likely ages older than the first man to walk the lands.
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Clothes and Equipment: She wields no weaponry or armour, but her natural abilities are explosive and dangerous, and her short stature does nothing to reduce the destructive heat of her flames. She is also able to command the lightning, those destructive forces of the natural world at her beck and call.
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Registered: Sept 8, 2015 22:11:18 GMT -8
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Post by Vesta on Mar 31, 2018 8:21:30 GMT -8
It's midday in the Rumbling Pines. The cheerful tweets of songbirds, the vixen calls of foxes and the bellowing of elk and deer fill the air as life takes its course, and a soft chilly breeze rustles the needles of the towering pines. That breeze carries upon it a flitting orange ball of light that appears above the trees, moving rapidly and bobbing back and fourth as if surveying the area. Abruptly, it dips down and dashes below the canopy, leaving a charred hole where it touches the needles, smoke rising from the spot as glowing orange embers creep, turning green growth to black ash.
As the ball settles down upon the forest floor its blinding light dims, and the figure of a two foot tall woman appears in its wake. She is scantily clad in a pair of sheer red-orange harem pants that ride low on her otherwise bare legs, her bare feet adorned with beaded anklets, and a strap of cloth fashioned into a sort of cropped halter top wrapped about her upper torso, barely preserving her dignity. A pair of jagged, pointed butterfly wings sprout from her back, fluttering gently in the cool breeze. Her eyes are solid gently-glowing orange and her hair is a flowing mass of what almost appears to be fire, constantly in motion, regardless of the wind. When her feet touch the grassy forest floor, they leave charred black marks, smoke rising from where she stands.
"Let's see here..." she murmurs to herself, peering about inquisitively. "Too many old trees. Choking new growth. Stagnation. No good!"
She rises back up into the air and begins to flit from pine to pine, laying hands upon each one. As her fingers brush against the bark, sparks fly and wood slowly begins to burn, starting with small flames that work their way up the trunks, searing the bark and the needles, as well as any creature too slow or too unaware to move in time. It's not long before the fires she creates begin to spread, tongues of flame licking at surrounding trees and setting them aflame, that process continuing one old pine after another. It won't be long until a great portion of the forest goes up, unless someone intervenes, and fast.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 7, 2024 12:47:03 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Apr 1, 2018 15:49:39 GMT -8
The first of them to arrive was the dullahan of the Winter House, Treasach. He rode in like a storm, hooves thundering deafeningly on the ground, visage as dark as rainclouds after dusk. In one hand he carried a pale whip made from sections of someone's spine. Strapped to his saddle was his head, black eyes staring at the destruction around him.
Both the steed and its rider had no fear of the flames themselves, but this forest was an important territory shared by two houses. He sought only to quell their destruction. Pulling on the reins, he reared the undead horse back, allowing the creature to let out a chilling howl unbefitting of its nature.
It was then that the ground began to tremor.
Forever roaming the fields that lay just beyond the pines, the giants of Winter, responsible for spreading frost to the border, stampeded in. The dullahan rode past them after directing them to the burning trees. "Take your attention to the fire. I shall take care of the perpetrator!" he commanded, and the frost giants pushed forward to do just that.
Treasach urged forward, searching for the one who spread the flames. Was this an attack by Summer? No, Lonan would not order such a thing knowing his position. Perhaps Spring was behind this one. They were a mystery, still. This could have been their way of letting themselves be known.
Up in the trees, the dullahan spotted a figure flitting through the branches. Without hesitation, he cracked his whip toward her. The weapon extended itself and attempted to flick the fae out of the air.
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Vesta
Established
Roleplay posts: 35
Age: Immeasurable
Physical Description: =======================
Standing at a minute height of one foot tall, this tiny nature spirit appears, on the surface, to be merely a young girl in her late teens, and her excitable demeanour would appear to support that hypothesis. She has long, flowing fire red hair which undulates like the flames she embodies, and solid orange, glowing eyes that sparkle with mirth and passion and a love of life. Upon her back, two bright red butterfly wings spread out about her, tapering up to sharp tips, their shape harsh and almost jagged, though possessed of a sort of dissonant order, speaking of her natural element. Her skin is without blemishes, perfectly golden-white, touched by the sun. What little clothing she wears is made from the element of fire itself, in constant motion as it wraps about her surprisingly voluptuous figure, although it occasionally appears to simply be a very malleable fabric, appearing as shear silk. While nothing about her would suggest she's any older than she seems on the surface, those who know the Fae and their workings know she's more than likely ages older than the first man to walk the lands.
=============================
Clothes and Equipment: She wields no weaponry or armour, but her natural abilities are explosive and dangerous, and her short stature does nothing to reduce the destructive heat of her flames. She is also able to command the lightning, those destructive forces of the natural world at her beck and call.
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Registered: Sept 8, 2015 22:11:18 GMT -8
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Post by Vesta on Apr 1, 2018 16:04:28 GMT -8
The howling of the beast is drowned out by the faerie's intense focus on her job, having fallen into a rhythm as she flits from tree to tree, immolating them one after another. She does, however, snap back to reality as she hears the galloping of horse's hooves beneath her, and she turns back just in time to see the bony whip curling through the air toward her at alarming speed.
Quick as a lick of flame, she bobs out of the way, glowering down at the attacker. Then, she looks around to see the giants ruining her work and she lets out a distraught shout.
"Hey! What do you think you're doing?! Quit interrupting my work!" she calls out to them. When they inevitably ignore her, she floats down to eye level with the winter Fae, stamping her foot on a nonexistent ground. She's apparently unfazed by his comparably massive figure and intimidating visage.
"Who are you? Why are you here? What are you doing to my work? Why's that whip made of bone, and why'd you try to hit me with it?" she fires off rapidly, her voice high-pitched and feminine. It'd almost be cute if she didn't wear such a sour expression, and if she wasn't flame incarnate, the falling pine needles evaporating into ash as they fall upon her, steam rising off of her rapidly as the air grows colder with the arrival of the frost giants.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 7, 2024 12:47:03 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Apr 1, 2018 17:50:10 GMT -8
"It is me who should be asking you these questions," rasped the dullahan. "You tread dangerous territory to be burning it as though it is your own. This is the border of the Autumn and Winter houses, shared territory which is managed by both Queens. Where do you hail from? Explain yourself!"
Treasach was none too happy to see the firey fae here. Her type didn't wander around these parts much, and even less of them held any loyalty for these two houses.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 7, 2024 12:47:03 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Apr 1, 2018 17:50:26 GMT -8
"My, my, Treasach. So rude to our guest. Always punch first, ask questions later kind of knight, aren't you?"
A voice floated above them, confident but friendly. There was mockery dancing in her tone, but it was kept light. Treasach wouldn't need to look skyward to know that a particular snowy owl was flying overhead, eventually finding herself a perch to land on. "Welcome to the Rumbling Pines. I am Thena. Who are you, and what brings you here, to our home, which you've set aflame? Almost as rude as Treasach, you are."
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Vesta
Established
Roleplay posts: 35
Age: Immeasurable
Physical Description: =======================
Standing at a minute height of one foot tall, this tiny nature spirit appears, on the surface, to be merely a young girl in her late teens, and her excitable demeanour would appear to support that hypothesis. She has long, flowing fire red hair which undulates like the flames she embodies, and solid orange, glowing eyes that sparkle with mirth and passion and a love of life. Upon her back, two bright red butterfly wings spread out about her, tapering up to sharp tips, their shape harsh and almost jagged, though possessed of a sort of dissonant order, speaking of her natural element. Her skin is without blemishes, perfectly golden-white, touched by the sun. What little clothing she wears is made from the element of fire itself, in constant motion as it wraps about her surprisingly voluptuous figure, although it occasionally appears to simply be a very malleable fabric, appearing as shear silk. While nothing about her would suggest she's any older than she seems on the surface, those who know the Fae and their workings know she's more than likely ages older than the first man to walk the lands.
=============================
Clothes and Equipment: She wields no weaponry or armour, but her natural abilities are explosive and dangerous, and her short stature does nothing to reduce the destructive heat of her flames. She is also able to command the lightning, those destructive forces of the natural world at her beck and call.
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Registered: Sept 8, 2015 22:11:18 GMT -8
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Post by Vesta on Apr 1, 2018 18:49:04 GMT -8
The sprite looks taken aback at Treasach's questions, raising a fiery red eyebrow and affixing him with a withering look.
"I don't hail from anywhere, silly man! I hail from the land itself! I don't care about your territories, neither. This forest is slated for wildfire, and I'm gonna make that happen with or without you here, and don't think I can't stop those big ol' men you've got messing up my work! I'm stronger than I look, y'know!" she snaps at the Winter fae, crossing her arms over her chest stubbornly after defiantly sending a bolt of flame into a nearby extinguished tree, reigniting it.
When the owl perches above, she shifts her attention, looking upward. She flits up to meet the owl, taking care not to touch the bird so as not to ignite its feathers.
"Hi, Thena! Maybe you'll be smarter than this fella. I'm Vesta, I'm a nature sprite, see, only when this plane was created I was made to balance out the forces of creation by being a force of destruction. Ya see, when there's too many big ol' trees in a forest, it chokes out the new growth, and the land gets...er...stale. Stagnant. Like still water that ain't moved in too long. That can lead to all sorts'a problems down the road, whether you youngins can see it happening or not," she explains. Her use of the word 'youngins' might be seen as odd, given her girlish visage.
"So it's my job, as it's been since time began, to take down those forests with too many big ol' trees so that the cycle can start anew and the forest can regrow bigger and prettier than ever before! That last bit's the green sprites' job, though, and they don't like me too much most'a the time. Say I'm not 'serious' enough or whatever, like those giggling girlies got any room to talk!"
She flits down to a spot between the owl and the man, and glances between them.
"So if you'd be so kind, owly, please tell your buddies to quit getting in my way before I gotta melt 'em!" she demands, shaking a little fist at the Winter Fae and giving him a comically threatening glare with those solid red bugeyes.
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Queen Hayzea of Vivrenyde
Established
Roleplay posts: 30
Age: Unknown
Physical Description: Somewhat short, with child-like proportions, she has four large fairy wings attached to her back, which are burnt orange and black.
Clothes and Equipment: Hayzea wears simple, silk like tunics and robes. She wears a floral wreath as a crown, the mottled leaves stuck in a perpetual state of decay.
Registered: Jan 20, 2018 8:21:39 GMT -8
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Post by Queen Hayzea of Vivrenyde on Apr 1, 2018 22:52:45 GMT -8
Hayzea glides in. In the time it took to go from Vivrenyde to the Rumbling Pines, her gloves disappeared. She arrived just in time to hear Vesta's little speech. "Oh how cute!" Hayzea chirps, flying closer. "A destructive sprite." Her eyes grow harsher, as she frowns thinly. "You see, though, dear, there's an issue. These are my lands. I don't take kindly to interlopers who deface my property. I am the Destroyer. I will deem what is destroyed. Get out. Now." She snarls once.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 7, 2024 12:47:03 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Apr 2, 2018 8:35:04 GMT -8
Another owl would appear on a branch almost at level with the Winter general, setting with near silent wing beats and tiny claws latching on the limb. Wide eyes, naturally slanted to an angry glare, watched down below with curiosity - wings fluttering a bit and scattering a few feathers as they folded neatly and comfortably afterwards.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 7, 2024 12:47:03 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Apr 2, 2018 14:48:07 GMT -8
"It would seem that you are out of your element," said Isolde, the Queen of Winter that was not too far behind Hayzea. It was a mystery how she'd gotten there so fast, as she had no wings, nor did she have a horse. Stoic and pale, Isolde stared at the fiery fae, no hatred or annoyance in her eyes, just authority. "Either the forest decides when the pines shall fall, or its rulers shall. You will not take it upon yourself to decide when this land is not yours."
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 7, 2024 12:47:03 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Apr 2, 2018 14:48:28 GMT -8
Treasach sneered. This brat dared call him young. There was no doubt in his mind that she could indeed have many, many years under her belt, but so did he, ever since the Grey Man of the Mountain fell and the Winter Court rose. Still, he made no move. Speaking was Thena's forte, intimidation was his, and that was his responsibility only if the fiery fae did not relent.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 7, 2024 12:47:03 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Apr 2, 2018 14:49:28 GMT -8
"Oh, I have no doubt your intentions, little flame, but it is not your decision, but that of our queens" the owl replied. Her gave Savre a swift glance when she perched. Ah, if this fiery fae decided to misbehave further, what a dance the owls would have together, trying to catch her.
"I can understand your insistence. I, too, was wild and free, once upon a time. Things are not so simple anymore."
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Vesta
Established
Roleplay posts: 35
Age: Immeasurable
Physical Description: =======================
Standing at a minute height of one foot tall, this tiny nature spirit appears, on the surface, to be merely a young girl in her late teens, and her excitable demeanour would appear to support that hypothesis. She has long, flowing fire red hair which undulates like the flames she embodies, and solid orange, glowing eyes that sparkle with mirth and passion and a love of life. Upon her back, two bright red butterfly wings spread out about her, tapering up to sharp tips, their shape harsh and almost jagged, though possessed of a sort of dissonant order, speaking of her natural element. Her skin is without blemishes, perfectly golden-white, touched by the sun. What little clothing she wears is made from the element of fire itself, in constant motion as it wraps about her surprisingly voluptuous figure, although it occasionally appears to simply be a very malleable fabric, appearing as shear silk. While nothing about her would suggest she's any older than she seems on the surface, those who know the Fae and their workings know she's more than likely ages older than the first man to walk the lands.
=============================
Clothes and Equipment: She wields no weaponry or armour, but her natural abilities are explosive and dangerous, and her short stature does nothing to reduce the destructive heat of her flames. She is also able to command the lightning, those destructive forces of the natural world at her beck and call.
===============================
Registered: Sept 8, 2015 22:11:18 GMT -8
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Post by Vesta on Apr 2, 2018 16:51:13 GMT -8
"You are all young fools," huffs the sprite, her irritation growing with ever more arrivals. These children think themselves wise, and yet they do not heed the word of the land? Storm clouds begin to gather overhead, swirling above the forest in a funnel shape, blotting out the sun and rumbling with energy.
"You do not understand, child," she growls toward the winter queen, her voice much less playful or kind than before. Something seems to have changed about her demeanor.
"I am the forests, I am natural order. I do not decide; the land does. I simply follow its call. I have done this deed since the creation of this material plane, and you young fae are always the least cooperative sort. Leave now, or you will all burn with the forest! I tire of playing games."
With that, she shoots off toward the frost giants, sparks flying from her figure as the flame that makes up her form begins to burn hotter, reigniting every tree that she comes into contact with. Her heat can be felt from almost two yards away, and her orange glow begins to brighten and redden, until it abruptly shifts into a bright, blinding blue. If any are able to view the world in infra-red, she'll have become a bright white scar among the trees, immolating foliage by simply flying too near it. It is in this overheated form that she zooms toward the first frost giant, and if its lumbering form proves too slow to move out of her way, she'll burrow directly through its back and out of its chest, leaving a steaming hole before moving onto the next one.
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Queen Hayzea of Vivrenyde
Established
Roleplay posts: 30
Age: Unknown
Physical Description: Somewhat short, with child-like proportions, she has four large fairy wings attached to her back, which are burnt orange and black.
Clothes and Equipment: Hayzea wears simple, silk like tunics and robes. She wears a floral wreath as a crown, the mottled leaves stuck in a perpetual state of decay.
Registered: Jan 20, 2018 8:21:39 GMT -8
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Post by Queen Hayzea of Vivrenyde on Apr 3, 2018 1:41:14 GMT -8
Hayzea fires a pulse of destructive magic. Nothing too strong, but enough to get a general feel for Vesta's defensive capabilities. "I do not take kindly to being ignored. I am just as important as Isole." She sneers, her hands glowing with the familiar orange hue of her destructive touch. "I was given the power to destroy that which I touch. What can you do little fae?" She asks mockingly. "Create clouds. Any novice magician could do such a thing, insolent worm." She snaps, before seeing the trees light aflame. "Flame magic. Boring." She mutters dryly. Although that would make touching her rather painful, luckily Hayzea cared little for pain.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 7, 2024 12:47:03 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Apr 3, 2018 21:22:06 GMT -8
"Allow me," said Isolde to Hayzea, splaying a hand toward the ground. From her palm, a spike of frost shot out and connected with the soil. No sooner had it done so, did it begin to rapidly spread out across the pines, encasing more and more trees in an icy cocoon, starving fires as it spread, almost as fast as the fire fae was setting them alight.
Though she was not as powerful as her sister just yet, such a feat was minuscule compared to Ithilmir's Crags, which spanned many weary miles. Once the ice had been planted, Isolde took up her skirts, then curtseyed to the Autumn Queen. "A thank you, for the invite to Vivrenyde. You can be sure that your offer will be more seriously considered after this incident. Farewell."
The Queen of Winter took off, leaving Thena and Treasach behind to observe the results and interfere if need be. Thena specifically was looking to Savre with excitement, nodding her head toward the fiery fae. "Shall we? Oh, take the lead!"
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Queen Hayzea of Vivrenyde
Established
Roleplay posts: 30
Age: Unknown
Physical Description: Somewhat short, with child-like proportions, she has four large fairy wings attached to her back, which are burnt orange and black.
Clothes and Equipment: Hayzea wears simple, silk like tunics and robes. She wears a floral wreath as a crown, the mottled leaves stuck in a perpetual state of decay.
Registered: Jan 20, 2018 8:21:39 GMT -8
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Post by Queen Hayzea of Vivrenyde on Apr 4, 2018 2:20:20 GMT -8
Hayzea nods at Isolde, before turns to face Vesta.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 7, 2024 12:47:03 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Apr 7, 2018 16:44:41 GMT -8
Savre, continuing to stay in the fluff form of an owl, stared at the little sprite with an expression one might consider boredom despite the wide eyes of the creature.
"Little sprite Frit-Frit sure acts like a brat-brat," echoed her voice, though the beak did not move. Her voice carried like normal, though a touch ethereal in this form. Her attention would finally shift to Thena, blinking a time or two. "Lead in what? Hay-Hay hasn't told me anything yet - and I rather make the wings go pluck-pluck," she replied, shifting her weight to lift one claw up and gesture the grasp and pull motion as if plucking flower petals.
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Queen Hayzea of Vivrenyde
Established
Roleplay posts: 30
Age: Unknown
Physical Description: Somewhat short, with child-like proportions, she has four large fairy wings attached to her back, which are burnt orange and black.
Clothes and Equipment: Hayzea wears simple, silk like tunics and robes. She wears a floral wreath as a crown, the mottled leaves stuck in a perpetual state of decay.
Registered: Jan 20, 2018 8:21:39 GMT -8
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Post by Queen Hayzea of Vivrenyde on Apr 8, 2018 17:00:10 GMT -8
Hayzea looks at Vesta with boredom. "Kill the sprite." She drawls, a wide grin on her face. "Make her scream, make her writhe in agony, like a worm on a hook."
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