Myralthrine Host
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 478
Age: 56
Physical Description: Avatar is accurate, 5'6 height.
Clothes and Equipment: Wanderers cloak in a material resembling vantablack in that it does not appear to be a real color. Beneath it she generally wears black leather boots to her knee, charcoal breeches and shirt, both fitted, and black bracers upon her forearms. She carries a morningstar upon her hip and satchel that crosses over her shoulder and chest.
Allegiances: None
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:13:41 GMT -8
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Post by Myralthrine Host on May 11, 2019 18:32:57 GMT -8
"He won't like what comes out of it," she hissed out the words. The longer they went on the longer she had to plan.
Assessing the situation for any sort of advantage there was not much in the area. A water barrel that she might be able to climb in order to reach the straw roof was by the building itself. A dangerous proposition because while they might fall through the thatch themselves she might as well. Dismissing it rather quickly she could not handle all three on her own without assistance. Crying out for Vith might reach him but it would mean revealing his own identity and he had been lax to do so thus far. Cons were outweighing the pros until she saw a rake. It was not useful in battle and they'd be able to cast it down quickly but the alley next to the very bar itself gave her an idea. It was barely but a few feet apart meaning that if they attempted to attack it would be shoulder to shoulder and difficult. Frankly it took away some of the advantage of the distance of her own weapon but by placing it one on one would be to her own advantage. Besides the alley had no good lighting and the elves, while able to see in dim light, would not be able to keep their sight the farther she backed in-between the buildings.
Deciding on this path a split second decision made she reached out with her left hand towards the rake. She needed but a another second in order to swing it widely. They might laugh at such a ridiculous decision but all she needed was for them to be cast back a few feet away from her giving her time to swing, drop, and turn on her heel racing the ten feet to the entrance of the alley itself. Braving a knife to the back they carried not daggers and throws with a dagger had to be precise and paced off to expect a true hit. Undoing the clasp of her cloak as she turned she tossed it upward into the air as she began her run meaning that the fabric lingered in the air hiding her escape if only momentarily. Hopefully enough they did not get their wits about them to throw, and if they had it might be succumbed by the cloak itself, and enough to get her into the alley which she would rush into turning immediately and backing into the depths of the darkness walking backwards having glanced first to make sure there were no entrances into the alley itself.
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Vithkun Almear
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 437
Age: 84
Physical Description: Vithkun is a tall guy extending about 1.9 m in height and has long flowing white hair as is often seen in his family. He would appear to be around 30 years of age.
Clothes and Equipment: He is royalty and likes to show it which is why he wears a thing braided silver band on his head which value can likely not be descriped in mere numbers. In his travels he will go for his plated armor, one which is both extremely light and quite durable, enabling him to retain much of his agility. For more formal matters he prefers robes in various colors and patterns.
He carries his sword with him most of the time and it is a slim long sword forged by the elves. The metal - like his armor - is hard but light and the sharpness of its edge knows few peers. He carries a dagger of similar quality too.
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:46:39 GMT -8
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Post by Vithkun Almear on May 12, 2019 0:59:38 GMT -8
Grabbing the rake and swinging it in a wide arc did surprise her three elven opponents and had them backing off as one of them even had a cut across his cheek from the rake. "You won't get away that easily..!" the leader said and raised his knife holding the blade between two fingers and launched it towards Myra - but with her cloak thrown into the air their aim was poor and the throw made the elf look like an amateur which only served to infuriate him even more as they closed in on the alleyway. "It's a dead end, shade skin!" he exclaimed into the alley knowing very well their disadvantage in taking her head on in there and stayed for now bid their time. "If you come out now, we'll deliver you to the duke mostly unharmed!" another one teased standing in the opening to the alleyway as suddenly something caught his attention and he turned from the opening.
Myra might feel it in the ground at first, the subtle trembling, but quite quickly the sound would be unmistakable too. The hooves of several horses and the rattling of armor and spears thundered closer the bar and the alleyway and the she would hear the horses coming to a stop right outside the alley followed by a brief commotion as if her opponents and the horsemen had a disagreement of sorts. Shortly after she would hear the armored men getting off their horses and one peeking into the alleyway. It was a soldier wearing a bronze colored armored with exquisitely ornamented silver details and a long bronze colored spear with a twisted point.
"Ahh she's in here my lord!" he confirmed as another elf stepped in front of the alleyway wearing the same kind of armor but having removed his helmet and carried her cloak in his left hand while his right rested casually on the hilt of his sword. White strands of hair were visible and though slightly lower in stature but more bulky in build with green eyes instead of the blue Vithkun had, he looked not too different.
The elf inclined his head and seemed to hesitate to speak but was also curious. "I think you must have dropped this." he then spoke and threw the cloak to Myra. "You must be the one who travels with Vithkun aren't you?" he asked with a faint smile waving her out of the alleyway taking a couple of steps back. "At least the errand boy told us so, and if so you are our guest - not our enemy." he said glancing in another direction where the three elves Myra had just fought had been tied up with hands behind their backs laying on their stomachs on the ground. "Unnecessary drawing of blood is... unseemly." he said as if scolding the three elves their had caught as Myra would see eight other soldiers present. "These do not represent our general disposition around foreigners and they must have fallen far into desperation." he excused on his countrymen's behalves.
"I am Duke Gandrys and I'm..." the elf started to explain and stretched out his arm to greet Myra if she had cared to come out from the alleyway but was interrupted in that very moment.
"Cousin..!" Vithkun exclaimed surprised but happy to see his old ally Gandrys present. "What is this commotion out here? Weren't you just going to get some fresh air, Myra?" Vithkun asked surprised as he gave Gandrys a hug before scratching his hair unable to glean what to think of it.
"Yes... Cousin." Gandry's said with a wry smile speaking in a noticeably more measured fashion than Vithkun. "You've changed..." he added as he reluctantly hugged Vithkun back as if surprised but not displeased of what he saw.
Not answering the question about having changed he gesticulated at Myra with his palm. "This is Myralthrine of Host, she has been my faithful companion through countless perils and on long adventures." Vithkun said proud to introduce her to Gandrys who was akin to a childhood friend to him - which was not always the case of family in High Haven.
"Pleased to meet you." Gandrys said to Myra in the same civilized yet measured fashion he spoke in normally and gave her a short bow taking her hand gently giving it a brief kiss. "I am honored to meet someone who has endured my cousin through an extended amount of time..." he added as it was as much as a praise for Myra as it was a friendly tease of Vithkun.
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Myralthrine Host
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 478
Age: 56
Physical Description: Avatar is accurate, 5'6 height.
Clothes and Equipment: Wanderers cloak in a material resembling vantablack in that it does not appear to be a real color. Beneath it she generally wears black leather boots to her knee, charcoal breeches and shirt, both fitted, and black bracers upon her forearms. She carries a morningstar upon her hip and satchel that crosses over her shoulder and chest.
Allegiances: None
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:13:41 GMT -8
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Post by Myralthrine Host on May 12, 2019 6:37:20 GMT -8
"Why don't you come in and show me then?" Taunting them back her quick escape wouldn't last for long and she had angled the buildings quickly beginning to improvise another plan to get onto the roofs. Not quite as tall as some of her elven counterparts leaping upright was out of the question but the ally itself was used for storage and some of the doors led into other businesses. Opening one and crashing through would be a poor decision on her part but there were a few stacked crates. Seeing as they were not rotted she'd give them a chance if need be.
Swinging the mace she'd yet to back fully into where they were incapable of seeing. Drawing them into the shade of the night gave her the leeway to destroy them without interference and it had been some time since she had absolutely rendered someone unable to walk. Looking forward to the experience showing anyone who believed themselves higher than her because of station that it did not mean they were more skilled or capable was her bread and butter. Spreading it thick over the loaf she drowned the thing and did it properly when she took to the task.
Fortunately for them, they were interrupted by another sort of intervention that involved much less steel in the end. Waiting patiently in place if the new arrival was hostile, or decided to gang up against her, she would still be better off in a position that was half fortified and while not easily exited she could climb upward and run along the edges of the roofs. If nothing else she would alienate all of the elven race and impose a different sort of magic but it had never occurred to her, even as she stood there now, to use anything other than sheer determination and a hard well aimed swing.
Knees bent, eyes weary, she held the morningstar in position to swing low and across her stance fully revealed without the cloak, as was her frighteningly bright hair and eyes. The initial newcomer, his armor bright and his tone just as much so, had her furrowing her brows. When Gandrys entered the ally itself she did not shift at first from the way she was settled into place. He spoke well, in the same manner as Vith, and the resemblance was not wholly missed in her quick assessment as he tossed the cloak her direction. Sidestepping she straightened and caught it in her left hand keeping her mace at her side and him at a distance. He had rolled it to where the cloak itself did not fan out which lessened some of her suspicions but not all because she never hung her weapon back nor even bothered to take her eyes off the location of his weapon if only to glance at his face while he spoke and behind him. Her promise to watch her speech to Vith meant that she held back a wry comment about what was unseemly with a short terse, "Yes," in reply to who she was traveling with. The truth would be revealed no matter who stated it unless he denied her. His word would outweigh her own but the ring resting on her finger was a heavy reminder of his commitment for the moment.
He waved her forward and with the addition of his own troops she saw no easy way out of this situation, she came forward just past the beginning of the street lights but not in clear view of the street itself. The loop on the end of the cold steel of the handle was around her wrist and she allowed it to slip down until she gripped but the very edge allowing her range and reassuring herself the weapon would not fall from her grip. Muscles never untensed until a very clear voice exclaimed and she finally came fully into the light watching him embrace his cousin openly. Gandry seemed more reserved and she smiled at the exchange quickly covering the reaction as she slid her weapon back into place finding it no longer necessary to hold onto it with such gumption.
"There were a few others that thought the fresh air suited them as well," she told Vith nonchalantly shrugging her shoulders slightly before he praised her and Gandry finished greeting her taking a gloved hand which she almost shook in the human fashion before he bent downward. Unused to being treated as a lady she understood the expectation but not the willingness to do so but concealed her confusion well.
Then Gandry did the last thing she expected, he joked, and she had to laugh, short-lived but bright and merry and true as were her words that followed, "I have enjoyed his company."
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Vithkun Almear
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 437
Age: 84
Physical Description: Vithkun is a tall guy extending about 1.9 m in height and has long flowing white hair as is often seen in his family. He would appear to be around 30 years of age.
Clothes and Equipment: He is royalty and likes to show it which is why he wears a thing braided silver band on his head which value can likely not be descriped in mere numbers. In his travels he will go for his plated armor, one which is both extremely light and quite durable, enabling him to retain much of his agility. For more formal matters he prefers robes in various colors and patterns.
He carries his sword with him most of the time and it is a slim long sword forged by the elves. The metal - like his armor - is hard but light and the sharpness of its edge knows few peers. He carries a dagger of similar quality too.
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:46:39 GMT -8
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Post by Vithkun Almear on May 12, 2019 12:23:24 GMT -8
"A few others..?" Vithkun asked although he quickly realized who it was noticing the elves laying on the ground face down and recognizing the one who had cast the malign gazes inside the bar. "I see... so the bartender sent for you as soon as he found that it was me and a drow in his bar because he knew that it could spell trouble." Vithkun cleverly deducted and looked at Myra with a smile of guilty regret.
"I... should have been more aware." he admitted to Myra knowing that Myra could have been far worse off if his cousin hadn't arrived and saved her. Well, saved 'the situation', because Myra had likely won against such scum, but not necessarily a clean victory - and how would a drow drawing elven blood look when contorted by the most sly of tongues? Luckily that didn't come to pass.
"Really..? You have enjoyed his company..?" Gandry asked with hands clenched on his back slightly inclining his head towards Vithkun and mouth suppressing a chuckle. "You're a lady of iron will or extremely specific tastes bordering on self hurt." he said his grin twisting upwards again.
"Hey Gandrys! That's enough, I'm not that bad being around..!" Vithkun said and crossed his arms with a indignant frown although Gandrys laughed and slapped him in the back.
"I know, I know..!" Gandrys chuckled and gave Vithkun the first non formal smile. "Why don't you both come with me and stay at my place? Unless you have booked a room in the local in?" he said and teasingly raised an eyebrow.
"No we haven't..." Vithkun admitted and turned his head towards Myra, arms still crossed. "I should ask you I think - are you alright with staying at his place? It is kind of nicer than an inn room. Probably even nicer than my tent, if you're keeping it clean..." Vithkun teased Gandrys back.
"Get these two a cart please..!" Gandrys said as the bartender had stuck his head out of the door and nodded. "Vithkun my dear cousin... Had you always planned to occupy my chambers for the night?" he asked his words almost playfully wrapping around Vithkun's throat squeezing him for the truth.
"Well we'll never know now, will we?" Vithkun said disarming Gandrys' words skillfully yet casually as was it second nature to dodge such questions - and even if it was just for fun and sport, you'd know these elves could corner you in a few sentences if they wanted to.
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Myralthrine Host
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 478
Age: 56
Physical Description: Avatar is accurate, 5'6 height.
Clothes and Equipment: Wanderers cloak in a material resembling vantablack in that it does not appear to be a real color. Beneath it she generally wears black leather boots to her knee, charcoal breeches and shirt, both fitted, and black bracers upon her forearms. She carries a morningstar upon her hip and satchel that crosses over her shoulder and chest.
Allegiances: None
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:13:41 GMT -8
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Post by Myralthrine Host on May 12, 2019 12:52:51 GMT -8
Clearly, the thought passed through her mind but was not said for it was not necessary. He'd been involved in the joy of being home that his good sense had failed him and while she could blame him she did not. What excitement would she have felt upon returning home to clear skies and the most beautiful view of water she had ever seen. Those of High Haven might have written poetry or songs and tried to relay the expanse but she felt it unnecessary for without a true adventure upon the high seas what good was a simple relation of what it truly was.
The two were unnecessarily riling each other in unexpected ways but the beauty of it was to be seen by her for she enjoyed the rough housing through words. They bashed and pulled and tugged like children but in a more mature fashion and she knew then that Gandrys could be trusted for if he cared for his cousin so truly he would not betray him. Or at least it was her hope as she was going to place within him a minute amount of trust for the moment.
"It is kind of you to offer and barring the fact we do not have other reservations I will accept on his behalf as well," she input allowing Vith to playfully pretend that he did not have that expectation. Rather she did not as well but she felt it had been his intention after all and she would be pulling the cloak back around her shoulders.
Drawing up the hood the thick material covered the way her snowy hair reflected any light and she teased Vith in the same manner that his cousin had earlier, "I think he is much more than a pretty face though I admit I did attempt to break it once when we first met."
Gaining favor with Gandrys would give her an ally, and the knowledge that without one she would flounder should Vithkun suddenly decide he was finished with whatever games they were playing with one another meant it was necessary. Devious and deceptive and heart wrenching but necessary and she was the type to plan ahead for every outcome.
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Vithkun Almear
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 437
Age: 84
Physical Description: Vithkun is a tall guy extending about 1.9 m in height and has long flowing white hair as is often seen in his family. He would appear to be around 30 years of age.
Clothes and Equipment: He is royalty and likes to show it which is why he wears a thing braided silver band on his head which value can likely not be descriped in mere numbers. In his travels he will go for his plated armor, one which is both extremely light and quite durable, enabling him to retain much of his agility. For more formal matters he prefers robes in various colors and patterns.
He carries his sword with him most of the time and it is a slim long sword forged by the elves. The metal - like his armor - is hard but light and the sharpness of its edge knows few peers. He carries a dagger of similar quality too.
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:46:39 GMT -8
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Post by Vithkun Almear on May 12, 2019 23:21:22 GMT -8
"Yesss..." he answered raising a brow to Vithkun's comment about his tent. "I could arrange for such a thing too if you've grown a fancy for that, but having the lady in mind here, we should probably aim a bit higher, wouldn't you think?" he asked Vithkun with a wry smile with Vithkun shrugging his shoulders not ready to appease Gandrys that easily.
"Hahaha! Now that's more like it!" Gandrys laughed of Myra's joke and slapped her shoulder amused. "I definitely want to hear more about that, but that will have to wait until tomorrow - the cart is here and you two must be tired!" Gandrys deducted and gesticulated towards the carriage. "I'll follow you there and show you your tents... ehrm... rooms... and then I hope you you'll have a good nights rest." he said as he mounted his horse again.
Vithkun gave Myra a sidelong glance and whispered so Gandrys couldn't hear him. "Don't think you're special, Gandrys likes everyone who can get to me..." Vithkun said slightly sullenly at the prospect about being outnumbered two to one in the tease game as he opened the closed cart allowing Myra in first before getting in himself afterwards and it seemed they would have ample space to place their luggage and stretch their legs too. "I hope however you'll see that High Haven can be a quite welcoming place if you meet the right people." Vithkun spoke and revealed a faint smile inside the dark cart. "But not perfect... Not everyone here are perfect." he admitted reluctantly placing his hand on hers squeezing it lightly.
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Myralthrine Host
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 478
Age: 56
Physical Description: Avatar is accurate, 5'6 height.
Clothes and Equipment: Wanderers cloak in a material resembling vantablack in that it does not appear to be a real color. Beneath it she generally wears black leather boots to her knee, charcoal breeches and shirt, both fitted, and black bracers upon her forearms. She carries a morningstar upon her hip and satchel that crosses over her shoulder and chest.
Allegiances: None
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:13:41 GMT -8
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Post by Myralthrine Host on May 13, 2019 7:48:29 GMT -8
“I will be happy to relay the whole story,” giving Gandrys one of the largest smiles she’d ever flashed anyone considering her generally mistrusting nature, “The tent was also not so horrible that I would refuse it again.”
There were many conversations held within a tent, ones of a deep nature that involved a bit more soul bearing than either might realize had occurred. Now here around others Vith would see she could certainly be less taciturn than she had been and was capable of a sort of ease in conversation that had taken him some time to achieve. He would not know it had been his hand that convinced her that taking a leap of faith was warranted at times and even the right step to take.
Joining him in the carriage he reached for her hand and though he may have intended on pulling his back if he left it long enough she would gently wrap her fingers around his own.
“I like him as well,” she would admit within the darkened carriage.
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Vithkun Almear
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 437
Age: 84
Physical Description: Vithkun is a tall guy extending about 1.9 m in height and has long flowing white hair as is often seen in his family. He would appear to be around 30 years of age.
Clothes and Equipment: He is royalty and likes to show it which is why he wears a thing braided silver band on his head which value can likely not be descriped in mere numbers. In his travels he will go for his plated armor, one which is both extremely light and quite durable, enabling him to retain much of his agility. For more formal matters he prefers robes in various colors and patterns.
He carries his sword with him most of the time and it is a slim long sword forged by the elves. The metal - like his armor - is hard but light and the sharpness of its edge knows few peers. He carries a dagger of similar quality too.
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:46:39 GMT -8
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Post by Vithkun Almear on May 13, 2019 12:50:22 GMT -8
Vithkun did notice her smile and unhinged behavior and though he was happy to see her smile within High Haven - but some part of him was also sad that the smile was not directed at him but at his cousin. Had she ever smiled that broadly to anyone? Vithkun couldn't remember that she had but in the end her reasons were her own and he excused it to himself with the fact that a smile was neither a crime nor something one should hold back. It could also be the relief to see someone accepting her as she was within these lands as neither Garullais nor those three elves had made the best first impression.
"Ahh yes, he's a galant man when everything comes down to it." Vithkun answered politely although he was surprised that she referred to him so specifically. He was holding her hand and she was holding his yet he sat with the feeling that it was neither tight nor firm enough and might slip at any moment. Their kiss had been only hours ago and yet he no longer felt her embrace or touch of lips. As if she had turned from him and her words weren't currently reaching out for him - but someone else. He might have disappointed her at that moment - but was his words not clear? Perhaps she did not wish for the same thing as the elf.
From inside the wagon the visibility wasn't great into the dark night and the two elves could only just see that they were passing through a walled gate and into a courtyard - but not stopping there and instead proceeding into a secondary courtyard where a smaller wing adjacent to the large mansion was situated and the cart came to a halt.
"I think we're here..." Vithkun said softly although his thoughts were still somewhere else as this feeling couldn't stop haunting him. Stepping out they would notice how large the main house was with several stories but the guest house wasn't small either with two stories and plenty of room along with balconies for each. Both the large house and the guest house had flower cases and vines decorating their front and roses in particular seemed abundant everywhere they looked.
"The guest house you'll be staying in has its own walled garden and courtyard here and access to a common garden from the backdoor. You're welcome to roam both, but I'll ask you to stay with the outer wall to avoid any misunderstandings..." Gandrys said and nodded towards Myra with a knowing smile. "The two rooms on the first floor are already prepared for guests so you may use those. There are bathing facilities within the guest house and the servants and maids are there if you need them but will not roam your wing in the night and guards are only posted outside and will be discretely present if you should need their advice." Gandrys said bowing for both of them and holding his bow a little longer for Myra.
"Thank you. Gandry." Vithkung said politely but also without the banter in his voice as when they had met.
"Breakfast is in the main house in the morning and I'll be taking my leave now." Gandrys said with a faint smile and turned to leave the both of them glancing briefly back at Myra.
"Well... It's been some day." Vithkun said and crossed his arms looking straight forward. "We've both deserved some rest I think." Vithkun said and proceeded towards the rooms stopping only shortly giving Myra a longing gaze he hoped was not noticed before a short sigh stopped his line of thoughts and he entered. As always Gandrys was taking care of his guests and nothing was lacking. There was plenty of fresh fruit placed in a few bowls along with spring water in a bronze pitcher and wine the silver pitcher. Vithkun sat down in the chair next to the small table and looked around the room a few candle lights to give a faint orange hue to the room.
He reached for the silver pitcher and poured some in his cup. What was he to do? He loved Myra from the depth of the earth's core to the highest star - but there was no way he could just blurt it out. For such a thing would come back stabbing him in the back when his parents, brother and fiancee found out. He was torn and somehow it felt as if he was physically hurting and he would definitely not find rest for the night yet.
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Myralthrine Host
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 478
Age: 56
Physical Description: Avatar is accurate, 5'6 height.
Clothes and Equipment: Wanderers cloak in a material resembling vantablack in that it does not appear to be a real color. Beneath it she generally wears black leather boots to her knee, charcoal breeches and shirt, both fitted, and black bracers upon her forearms. She carries a morningstar upon her hip and satchel that crosses over her shoulder and chest.
Allegiances: None
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:13:41 GMT -8
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Post by Myralthrine Host on May 13, 2019 18:27:12 GMT -8
The wagon ride was done in silence but it was not empty. So much was left unsaid within the confines of the rattling carriage the dark curtains not drawn back to reveal the outside world beyond them. Her free hand rested upon the edge of it just barely drawing it back so one could not see in but she had a smidgen of a view of the world beyond. His world, not hers, and yet Gandrys was doing his best to make her feel welcome while Garuillus had certainly taken a different approach. Certain Vithkun wanted her to feel the joy he did it was impossible to force herself to feel something she did not. This was a new world, a dangerous world, and one she was only attempting to navigate for his sake.
A lifeline existed in the very touch they shared for as they rattled to a stop and he announced they’d arrived she’d gripped tighter for a half second. It was enough for the fear she felt inwardly to show outwardly for his final glance was nothing compared to the bracing one she gave him before exiting the carriage, whether he chose to see it or not.
The courtyard was beautiful, the housing just as so, as expected from her brethren their very architecture full of the wonder of the fae with all the beauty nature had to offer. It was carefully cultivated but seemingly not the roses wild. She wondered if they had been sang to in order to craft that which she saw. Wide eyes but a closed mouth met it and for a moment she was speechless as Gandrys was ever the willing and kind host.
“Of course,” she managed about the outer walls. Putting herself in further danger without reason was not unlike her but choosing to be agreeable she added a soft, “Thank you.”
It was the sort of kind softness in her voice that expressed some of her awe at the very world now afforded to her. Vithkun was a bit shorter with his cousin, and her, and despite his last look she had not seen it but a, “Goodnight,” followed him. Just as soft as before, just as kind, as she found her way to her own quarters.
Bathing first and foremost she slipped into the warm water allowing it to encompass her and ducking under she held her breath til the last possible moment. Rising upward and splashing the floor she felt a sting at the eyes but ignored it. Spending some time the excitement of the day itself had not left her and she found herself dressed and wandering out to the garden. She was without her cloak, without the ornamentation of her bracers, wearing only a loose linen shirt, the jewel around her neck, and a long grey skirt that she rarely wore due to the fact it was unsuitable to fight in. Her Morningstar was left beside the door, leaned against it, for she felt it in bad taste to carry it in the home of her host.
She caught the moonlight as she walked, hair brushed and left own to dry falling in gentle waves. Finding a bench she took the opportunity to expand her mind. Settled with her hands in her lap she closed her eyes and began to search. Quiet moments were so rare after she’d discovered this ability and seeing as it should go unnoticed unless one was truly prepared she felt it safe to expand and test her limits.
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Vithkun Almear
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 437
Age: 84
Physical Description: Vithkun is a tall guy extending about 1.9 m in height and has long flowing white hair as is often seen in his family. He would appear to be around 30 years of age.
Clothes and Equipment: He is royalty and likes to show it which is why he wears a thing braided silver band on his head which value can likely not be descriped in mere numbers. In his travels he will go for his plated armor, one which is both extremely light and quite durable, enabling him to retain much of his agility. For more formal matters he prefers robes in various colors and patterns.
He carries his sword with him most of the time and it is a slim long sword forged by the elves. The metal - like his armor - is hard but light and the sharpness of its edge knows few peers. He carries a dagger of similar quality too.
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:46:39 GMT -8
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Post by Vithkun Almear on May 14, 2019 2:08:30 GMT -8
Grabbing a piece of paper and a pen Vithkun lit the lantern on the small table and dipped the pen in the ink. There had been a few times in his life that he had felt something akin to the same emotions as he had right now and those few times he had taken up pen and paper as he felt it easier communicating his feelings in written form. Scratching his chin the tip of the pen met the paper and the rounded and elegant letters of the elven language started forming on paper as he felt regret, frustration and even tears starting to pour out as he dug out his heart and thus both his love and fear. Finishing the letter he signed it 'Your Prince' and when the last line had been completed the pen slipped from his fingers leaving a clearly visible dot on the paper as if he had no more strength to muster.
Vithkun felt his pain slowly relieved and with a deep sigh he bend his head down into his hands. "I'm a pathetic excuse am I not?" Vithkun said as his he looked up and eyed Gandrys whom he had sensed coming into the room. Vithkun was not normally great at sensing other people, but with Gandrys they went back so long that it was almost second nature.
"For what?" Gandrys asked unimpressed. "I came because I sensed a lot of strife in you." he said and his words comforting but also clearly not impressed with the standard of words Vithkun used about himself.
"With not being able to travel the right path no matter what I do - and since I'm only one elf I must pick one but I cannot." Vithkun replied to Gandrys.
"Oh come on..." Gandrys said and rolled his eyes, slowly pacing into the room. "I know why you left - but I'm unsure why you came back."
"That I am too..." Vithkun admitted. "Because why would I? I have the jewel... or rather she has it because I gave it to her, but arriving back here I can't keep the promise I made for my fiancee and thus I must renounce the claim of the throne and even risk being an outcast..." he spoke feeling a stinging pain in the stomach again cringing slightly.
"I see... so you've come to love the drow with whom you traveled with - even to a degree that you would give her the jewel which is your key to the throne." Gandrys seemed to ponder deeply at the remarkable change Vithkun had been through. "This is no small thing I see, but if there is any advice I can give you it is that you can't manipulate love. I'm not sure old Vithkun would understand - but you might." he said and smirked. "Good night, cousin." he said and just before exiting he turned to Vithkun again. "You look like one who could need some fresh air." he said and winked at Vithkun.
Vithkun frowned surprised as he put the letter into his shirt for safe keeping. Perhaps it was time that he finally stepped up and announced what needed to be announced. He knew that she was no manipulator of love, but Vithkun was certainly trying to manage the outcomes in such ways he was steering towards inevitable failure on both accounts. He did need fresh air and drew the thin curtain away from the balcony stepping out taking a deep breath... seeing someone in the common garden.
"Gandrys..." Vithkun said silently cursing the perception his cousin had been born with that he hadn't when he saw the white flowing hair of Myra moving around soon to be covered by the trees. He felt a pull of something... an urgency of going down there joining Myra. But why would he? What was there to be said that he hadn't already? The letter perhaps..? He felt it through his shirt clenching it as he battled his emotions.
As Myra walked around the garden the wind would quietly rustle her white hair and the trees almost waving her in the direction she chose to walk. A certain kind of respect was shown towards the drow from the nature and as she sat down it was as if the leaves and the wind went quiet - wanting to see what happened because as she closed her eyes an elf with white hair as her own would stand before her.
"Myralthrine of Host." the voice said as the elf stood only a few paces away from her. "My scout saw you kissing. Why have you come here?" he asked his tone of voice accusing and disappointing but not threatening. "The prince is a very important man to High Haven and one I myself would support as king - yet you seem to be forgetting your place and is doing your utmost to unsettle him with your shenanigans. You hope to rise above your stations and life a long life of comfort at Excelmere?" Garullais asked and paced back and forth somewhat agitated as he spoke to her.
"Tell me how long you have been knowing each other? A couple of months? Half a year? Even if you met as he departed a year ago one could not dream of forming a bond that important in that short a time." he said biting his lower lip in anger. "You are a drow of Host! I say to you now... Go. Leave High Haven if you care anything for his highness and if you do not... I know that there is not a shred of true emotion in this and you have been manipulating him all this time. That I will not overlook..!"
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Myralthrine Host
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 478
Age: 56
Physical Description: Avatar is accurate, 5'6 height.
Clothes and Equipment: Wanderers cloak in a material resembling vantablack in that it does not appear to be a real color. Beneath it she generally wears black leather boots to her knee, charcoal breeches and shirt, both fitted, and black bracers upon her forearms. She carries a morningstar upon her hip and satchel that crosses over her shoulder and chest.
Allegiances: None
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:13:41 GMT -8
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Post by Myralthrine Host on May 14, 2019 12:02:56 GMT -8
The garden was the same as the exterior of the house. Whoever the gifted individual was that had placed his work above all else putting his heart and soul into the garden was appreciated. It had the sense of the wild with bountiful mixtures of wild flowers sown into the roses. Perhaps they were the weeds here for she saw none and if they went so far as to sing them away it would not have been doubted in her mind. The moon was high above her, rounded and full and reflecting downward causing her to feel full of its own glory. They were born of the love of the stars, of a vision of the night sky and while the elves here felt the draw of the unknown that lingered in the space above them the Drow felt bolstered by it. Why should they not when their very sight was meant to allow them to see even in the darkest of places and be blinded in the brightest.
Wandering the garden she like Vith had much to ponder. He worried about what his love might do to him and she worried about what her love might do to him as well. They were not opposites completely as both worried for the outcome of something that should have never occurred. How it had occurred was a mystery to her but her heart felt so surely about the subject that she could not deny it. Speaking the words out loud would show the truth of the matter and she even tried to whisper to the night air, “I do-“ The word not would not come from her lips. It frightened her for most speech was based on intention and if she could not intend and mean the words than she could not truly put them out there.
“I do love him,” she said sullenly, before Gaurullis had ever appeared to ruin her evening and with no one present to hear it. Brushing back drying locks they slipped through her fingers and she nervously trailed down to the ends where she kept slipping them through back and forth in order to provide some sense of relief with the nervous movement. Frankly it was not helping but it seemed natural enough to any passerby. The guards Gandrys had promised to be present were at times. Passing them they were inconspicuous and hidden well. Not enough her brighter night eyes could not find them a glint of steel here or the paleness of their skin catching her eyes.
Nodding to each one she found she spoke no words. Nothing was necessary in order to give them notice that they were not as stealthy as they seemed.
Taking the spot on the bench she settled downward legs crossed at the ankles and her hands upon her thighs. Before he even appeared she knew he was there, the instant that she closed her eyes to concentrate she felt his movement. He was swift, silent, as he should be and as he’d been within the forest.
Opening her eyes as he stopped she met his own without judgement nor car for his immediate concerns. He called her of Host and while it was her origin it may not be truly her home nor name if others were to be believed. Despite her uncertainty on the matter she knew he had no reason to lie. His concern was not of the outside world anymore as he existed outside of it for so long now that he could not possibly know the strife that existed only that it had taken long for one to solve his riddle and that the brokenness between their races still existed. Declaring her of the royal family had no implications on the matter for he possibly assumed that she had been and was downgrading her own family name in order to keep herself safe. Not from her companion but perhaps from him. But it still had never come up with the confines of the hellish puzzles they were put through. For all this she knew that the matter was never going to be settled until she discovered the truth. If the ashborn were only of one line perhaps Annonai could provide answers she’d not been willing to listen to before.
Never the less he was not here to argue her name, nor care for the change of it without proof, and he had other stinging words that cut to the bone carrying with it the weight of her own misjudgment. Who was she to believe she was suitable to have even accompanied him? To carry the jewel now? He treated her as an equal but as when they first met he was a Highness, it had not changed even if she had stopped calling him that, and soon enough in polite society she would have to return to an old habit.
No threat but logic in his voice he’d considered his argument before he’d arrived wanting to give the best speech available to him even if emotion took over far before he could finish. That he cared for the Prince was truly visible, that he worried he would not take the throne was valiant, that he’d even came in his defense was perhaps the most honorable thing a friend might do.
“I came because he asked me,” she finally answered allowing him to finish before she answered. Waving at the seat beside her she invited him to it even if he would not be agreeable, “We have not known each other any length of time I might have deemed appropriate either,” she admitted sharing with him more than she normally cared to with others. Gandrys had taken to her like a fish to water but he would take more convincing. That was if she even stayed after his argument and it was likely that leaving would be her next step, “You make fair points Garullais. He is destined to be placed on the throne and when we found the jewel I granted it to him. I could have fought or argued against his plans for it but I chose not to do so. I allowed him to walk unchallenged for I believe that his path is that which shall make him a true ruler. One that is respected and loved by all for I have seen him truly behind that which he shows the world.”
Not allowing for interruptions she would let out softly at the end, as soft as she’d said thank you and as soft as she’d said goodbye, and so softly that it was as if her heart could not handle it now, “But it seems I only interfere in his own destiny...”
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Vithkun Almear
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 437
Age: 84
Physical Description: Vithkun is a tall guy extending about 1.9 m in height and has long flowing white hair as is often seen in his family. He would appear to be around 30 years of age.
Clothes and Equipment: He is royalty and likes to show it which is why he wears a thing braided silver band on his head which value can likely not be descriped in mere numbers. In his travels he will go for his plated armor, one which is both extremely light and quite durable, enabling him to retain much of his agility. For more formal matters he prefers robes in various colors and patterns.
He carries his sword with him most of the time and it is a slim long sword forged by the elves. The metal - like his armor - is hard but light and the sharpness of its edge knows few peers. He carries a dagger of similar quality too.
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:46:39 GMT -8
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Post by Vithkun Almear on May 15, 2019 10:14:57 GMT -8
"Did he..? He asked you to come?" Garullais said skeptically turning almost away before giving Myra a sidelong glance waving his finger at her as if he was still on the verge of no believing the drow. However crossing his arms and remaining standing her observed as she continued to make a case for herself - however full of holes he believed it to be.
"Did you now... You granted him the jewel? The jewel is by right his because he is the prince of High Haven, not a random drow from Host." he said firmly and added. "If you granted him the jewel you must be aware that he let you grant you the jewel - and yes you should have fought against his plan as he insisted that you'd carry it." he ended with a frown.
"And what have you found behind his facade? Fragility? Compassion? Maybe even mutual love? But how will that help him rule that you nurture that? It is but things that confuse the prince. Marrying his fiancee is his duty and if it has no love he will be able to dedicate his time for his people - that is a true ruler." Garullais argued convinced.
"I would tend to agree... And if you truly care for His Higness, you'll pass the jewel to me here and now and I'll give it to him immediately to spare you the heart ache." Garullais said with a sweeter but insistent voice as he sat down and opened his palm. "It is the right thing to do."
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Myralthrine Host
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 478
Age: 56
Physical Description: Avatar is accurate, 5'6 height.
Clothes and Equipment: Wanderers cloak in a material resembling vantablack in that it does not appear to be a real color. Beneath it she generally wears black leather boots to her knee, charcoal breeches and shirt, both fitted, and black bracers upon her forearms. She carries a morningstar upon her hip and satchel that crosses over her shoulder and chest.
Allegiances: None
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:13:41 GMT -8
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Post by Myralthrine Host on May 15, 2019 10:23:29 GMT -8
“The jewel was born of drow magic,” he would quickly learn she was not meager and though she carried not a weapon she had no fear of opposition. Her voice was sharp and insistent as she remained in place the jewel firmly situated where it was before. No nervous moment betrayed it’s placement.
Dressed a fair bit more feminine than she normally had it did not subtract from the fact she had a glare capable of lowering any creature, “It became a gift to our brethren to symbolize the union of two separate but equal races that are not truly so. We have some fundamental differences but also too many things alike to not notice them. Vithkun will do what he feels correct and he has the ability to rule with what you say are weaknesses. Mercy is born of compassion as is the ability to understand that which will ail his own people. Strength is but one aspect of bringing him to his rightful place but it is demeaned by lies and flattery which have no place in his or your mouth. Should I have chose to oppose him openly he would not have walked away unscathed. I am no coward nor am I belligerent. Should I chose to leave of my own accord I would give him the courtesy of my reasons and the jewel which you so claim to be his would be handed to him and him alone.”
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Vithkun Almear
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 437
Age: 84
Physical Description: Vithkun is a tall guy extending about 1.9 m in height and has long flowing white hair as is often seen in his family. He would appear to be around 30 years of age.
Clothes and Equipment: He is royalty and likes to show it which is why he wears a thing braided silver band on his head which value can likely not be descriped in mere numbers. In his travels he will go for his plated armor, one which is both extremely light and quite durable, enabling him to retain much of his agility. For more formal matters he prefers robes in various colors and patterns.
He carries his sword with him most of the time and it is a slim long sword forged by the elves. The metal - like his armor - is hard but light and the sharpness of its edge knows few peers. He carries a dagger of similar quality too.
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:46:39 GMT -8
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Post by Vithkun Almear on May 15, 2019 11:05:15 GMT -8
"Of... drow magic..?" he took to his face having a hard time understanding that she might be right. "The Crimson Ascend is an elven artifact of legend, how did you come to such a conclusion?" Garullais smiled wryly although her stoic demeanor was and off setting pulse that slightly took him off balance and stopped his momentum even as she made now move to hand over the jewel and he had basically promised to make it have consequences if she did not. Instead Garullais sat still with eyes wide open as she spoke.
Her words were... without equal. Garullais had never before heard and elf nor any of his drow captors speak to him with such resilience and determination and he felt her gaze holding him in place in a way shackles had never been able to. Shackles had never kept Garullais tied down for long - nothing really had and that was why he had survived the drow prison. This was why he was an excellent ranger for nothing was able to stop his movement - besides this drow and he was as glued to the bench for several moments even after she had stopped talking.
"You speak... with such conviction. I don't know if the Crimson Ascend is truly what you tell me it is and it might not be that important in the end, but how... how can you speak like that?" he said with an expression of almost shock. "Those are not the words of a liar - I heard quite a few - and to tell me that you would even stand up to His Highness in terms of combat and magic prowess and still be able to form your words from such depths of conviction..?" Garullais glancing at the drow finding something very amiss. "Who are you..?"
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Myralthrine Host
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 478
Age: 56
Physical Description: Avatar is accurate, 5'6 height.
Clothes and Equipment: Wanderers cloak in a material resembling vantablack in that it does not appear to be a real color. Beneath it she generally wears black leather boots to her knee, charcoal breeches and shirt, both fitted, and black bracers upon her forearms. She carries a morningstar upon her hip and satchel that crosses over her shoulder and chest.
Allegiances: None
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:13:41 GMT -8
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Post by Myralthrine Host on May 15, 2019 11:16:28 GMT -8
“I am accursed. Born of the past and brought to my fate by the necessity of those fearful of my own right to prove my worth,” he had back pedaled quickly and the change was rewarded with no less conviction but a kinder tone it was expressed in. Drawing up her sleeves she pushed both upward in order to reveal that which Vith had never fully seen.
He had once been Drow prisoner and bound within a cage which might bear a few of the very same symbols. His very past was why she was willing to be so forthright.
“I was dispatched with but one goal after being falsely accused and then set upon by the truth,” her finger ran up her right forearm, “I speak nothing but it and my testimony unparalleled they still chose ignorance. My banishment came at the behest of finding and returning with the jewel,” her left arm she motioned to now, “I cannot return without it in my possession for the path has been made too painful to bear and yet I relinquish it freely. As I shall do when he asks of me again.”
Never shaking in the faith of her speech, in the depths of her commitment to every word that slipped. Her heritage was a crime in and of itself but informing him that she was Ashborn, that those stories were true might have been too much. Therefore she did not speak the word or even elude yo the true reason she was of Host. He quite obviously deduced that no orphan without right or power could speak so and yet she believed it to be so. It was her personal truth and until clarification came it would stand.
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Vithkun Almear
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 437
Age: 84
Physical Description: Vithkun is a tall guy extending about 1.9 m in height and has long flowing white hair as is often seen in his family. He would appear to be around 30 years of age.
Clothes and Equipment: He is royalty and likes to show it which is why he wears a thing braided silver band on his head which value can likely not be descriped in mere numbers. In his travels he will go for his plated armor, one which is both extremely light and quite durable, enabling him to retain much of his agility. For more formal matters he prefers robes in various colors and patterns.
He carries his sword with him most of the time and it is a slim long sword forged by the elves. The metal - like his armor - is hard but light and the sharpness of its edge knows few peers. He carries a dagger of similar quality too.
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:46:39 GMT -8
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Post by Vithkun Almear on May 15, 2019 12:13:56 GMT -8
"Then accursed are we both..." he said his gaze slightly lowering though he might not immediately know the depth of her words - but he knew what they meant for him. "What are those..? Drow letters? A seal?" he asked studying the signs that Myra had revealed understanding how she had been abused by her own people much in the same way he had been treated too. Buttoning up his vest and shirt he turned his back to Myra and let it slide down allowing his upper back to become visible with marks of cuts and whips.
"These were given to me - but the chance of avoiding them was not." said and quickly drew up his shirt again turning to her realizing it was not fitting to show his skin to a woman, any woman, like this. But it seemed like at least part of their fates intertwined in a way that common ground was found. She was banished from her homeland which to Garullais sounded like the same prison as being abducted into one.
"I am sorry for you..." he said understanding in his heart what kind of ache she had been through physically as well as mentally and he folded his hands his face contorting slightly as he brought the memories back. "Shaela" he grinned. "She was a beautiful and light hearted drow and I came to trust her very deeply even entrusting her with my goal which were to infiltrate the citadel and bring back the documents that had condemned so many of my kin to forced labor in your mines. She was a poor girl from Host too and she felt, like you, that division between our people was the root of all evil. She supported me in my plans and all the way to its completion... Almost. The day before she had been contacted by drow agents of the citadel and she had received a large sack of gold for what she was able to tell them." Garullais said ending it with a deep sigh.
"But you're not like that, are you..?"
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Myralthrine Host
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 478
Age: 56
Physical Description: Avatar is accurate, 5'6 height.
Clothes and Equipment: Wanderers cloak in a material resembling vantablack in that it does not appear to be a real color. Beneath it she generally wears black leather boots to her knee, charcoal breeches and shirt, both fitted, and black bracers upon her forearms. She carries a morningstar upon her hip and satchel that crosses over her shoulder and chest.
Allegiances: None
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:13:41 GMT -8
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Post by Myralthrine Host on May 15, 2019 12:23:25 GMT -8
Tempted to touch what was revealed the physical scars that decorated his back ran as deep as the rivers breaking the earth almost in twain but the mental ones unable to be seen within both would break apart any that was lesser than they. He earned her interest with the true aim of his bow but now he earned her respect as both equally shared that which brought them to their perspective positions.
His questions answered as she showed him both now she reached over and readjusted his collar one handed in a motherly way but would stop if he flinched at her touch or drew back. What ran so deep within both took healing over time and an effort that was equatable to moving mountains. Perhaps the knowledge they shared would settle matters as she offered further explanation, “One keeps me from lying and the other will tear apart my feet should I return to the point I shall have to crawl.”
This was before his story. Her heart hurt for him and she first and foremost began an unseeded apology, “Garullais you have suffered more than I could imagine. I wish it had never occurred and your loss is beyond my imagination but I can assure you I would never do the same. I will break what is given through the want to see him succeed.”
She hoped some misunderstanding had happened with the woman he cared for. That he had been told a falsehood but she could not know.
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Vithkun Almear
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 437
Age: 84
Physical Description: Vithkun is a tall guy extending about 1.9 m in height and has long flowing white hair as is often seen in his family. He would appear to be around 30 years of age.
Clothes and Equipment: He is royalty and likes to show it which is why he wears a thing braided silver band on his head which value can likely not be descriped in mere numbers. In his travels he will go for his plated armor, one which is both extremely light and quite durable, enabling him to retain much of his agility. For more formal matters he prefers robes in various colors and patterns.
He carries his sword with him most of the time and it is a slim long sword forged by the elves. The metal - like his armor - is hard but light and the sharpness of its edge knows few peers. He carries a dagger of similar quality too.
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:46:39 GMT -8
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Post by Vithkun Almear on May 15, 2019 13:21:12 GMT -8
Garullais would neither flinch nor withdraw but nodded slightly as if accepting her care. "You may be right, compassion is not something to slight." he admitted although something like that had been used against him before and chained down his true emotions on that point. "It's a brutal destiny and even as I think of the creative ways of torment they served me, this has to take the prize..!" he said astounded of what they had bound her with - even his own movement would have been utterly restrained like that and he could think of nothing worse.
Her apology was not only accepted it was also appreciated and a relaxed smile started forming and he turned his eyes at you, now more clear than they had been before - their hardness mellowed and softened some. "You can't imagine no... but that's the thing about compassion, you can't imagine it but you might feel it." he said and nodded knowingly. "She used to say that, but since that day I started to feel that compassion was only a weakness. Now that your words and deeds ease me like this I see how I was wrong - those words were not part of her deception." and he took a deep breath.
"I already know, you don't have to say more..." Garullais said softly and got up. "You might be the change we need, just don't let the winds of change become a gale - those aren't met with kindness here." he advised Myra and bowed - not slightly - but all the way to his knee and with his head inclined all the way down. "I'll serve you, my queen." he said before getting up and leaving her with a smile. She might be from Host but he saw royalty in her heart.
A small pause was present from he left where the quiet calm returned to the garden allowing time for reflection for the drow as well as the roses and trees that had listened so intently. They now felt content with the tension eased and new things revealed as they further spread their leaves and petals enjoying such mutual understanding. Still some petals slightly quivered for the anticipation of the next meeting beneath the roof of stars and green as another elf revealed himself his steps careful and humble - almost excusing himself.
"Myra..?" Vith spoke both in anticipation and anxiety for the reason he was there.
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Myralthrine Host
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 478
Age: 56
Physical Description: Avatar is accurate, 5'6 height.
Clothes and Equipment: Wanderers cloak in a material resembling vantablack in that it does not appear to be a real color. Beneath it she generally wears black leather boots to her knee, charcoal breeches and shirt, both fitted, and black bracers upon her forearms. She carries a morningstar upon her hip and satchel that crosses over her shoulder and chest.
Allegiances: None
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:13:41 GMT -8
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Post by Myralthrine Host on May 15, 2019 18:50:49 GMT -8
Garullais was personally not against her, he carried no ill will towards her specifically but a mistrust of the general race due to prior experience. Compassion was full of understanding and part of it was lowering her own barriers towards looking at him as an individual instead of a part of the whole. Shades of grey existed within his world, within his eyes, and in one moment perhaps she had gone from a shade damned near black to one of just the palest grey, not quite as white as either of their gleaming crowns, but close enough for him to see the light in her even if she could not see it herself. His collar pressed downward no flinching at the gentle touch as she readjusted it their sharing brought the understanding that she sought in such compassion.
No response given in response to the prize she'd won for supposed insolence she was patient enough to hear his next few words, "Empathy is important," she agreed and referenced a human saying with a smile, "Perhaps the common folk have the full of it when they say you do not know a man until you walk in his shoes."
Truthfully they took but a little from each other, enough to form a bond that would carry for some time and when he rose she followed him with her gaze only her stint in the garden not quite yet finished. He was leaving her with much to ponder his advice not unsettling but awkward considering his original intention of threatening her. Five words came from him, and two meant more than the rest for the solidified a position that was not her own. Intending on catching him before he could leave she'd opened her mouth but there was a gust of wind and whispers that made her look towards the archway she'd come though. When she made it back to his position he was as gone as quickly as he came. His intent was not to be followed and she chose not to break his wishes even if she could have found him.
Instead she put her legs to the side of the backless bench and laid flat upon it her hair falling off the other side. Hands crossed over her abdomen she looked almost ready for burial if her knees were not bent and her chest did not rise and fall with each breath. The garden community knew more than she of the arrival of their Prince but their whispers were too quiet for her to catch fully. Besides they had a tendency to gossip among themselves and leaving them to it was best for a time.
"Myra...?" Her name was on his lips again, the shortened version of it at least he'd taken to immediately. Truly conflicted as to where her path lay one minute ago Garullius was threatening her and then intending that she should stay, that she should seek the very destiny he intended on denying just a moment ago. His points had hit home, truly, and she needed no reminder in such a short period such as the very subject of their conversation appearing and yet her heart felt a longing. It reached and made her answer.
"Here." Remaining leaned back until he passed through she would rise halfway onto her elbows looking up at him with eyes full of the starlight above.
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Vithkun Almear
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 437
Age: 84
Physical Description: Vithkun is a tall guy extending about 1.9 m in height and has long flowing white hair as is often seen in his family. He would appear to be around 30 years of age.
Clothes and Equipment: He is royalty and likes to show it which is why he wears a thing braided silver band on his head which value can likely not be descriped in mere numbers. In his travels he will go for his plated armor, one which is both extremely light and quite durable, enabling him to retain much of his agility. For more formal matters he prefers robes in various colors and patterns.
He carries his sword with him most of the time and it is a slim long sword forged by the elves. The metal - like his armor - is hard but light and the sharpness of its edge knows few peers. He carries a dagger of similar quality too.
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:46:39 GMT -8
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Post by Vithkun Almear on May 16, 2019 23:54:50 GMT -8
Vithkun stopped to see Myra there laying on the bench unmoving and with hands folded on her stomach as if she had passed to the next world - or was about to. Only she wasn't and Vithkun found her answer spoken with a longing that matched his own. Taking a few steps towards her again she slowly inclined herself towards Vith her eyes as deep and vast as the space above them and Vithkun was almost taken off balance by the longing her felt and the beauty of which she radiated when the scattered starlight broke through the tree tops and found her white locks and shaded skin adding a marvelous contrast.
There were no guards in the area as they would stay closer to the walls, gate and house but still what he might want to speak of was a sensible matter that required some amount of silence and isolation from others to conjure what needed to be conjured from the depth of his soul. If it was even meant to by expressed with words. "Will you... come with me?" he asked his hand stretched towards Myra waiting for hers to take it and the words spoken were the prelude and yet also the essence of why he was out here.
If Myra had opted to take Vith's hand he would gently help her to a stand and then lead her deeper into the garden knowing the vastness of it meant it had several almost secret places. Vithkun lead Myra along a path along lush rose bushes and curving hedges taller than even Vith with little ponds and rivers flowing in small tranquil oases scattered along the way. It was as if you'd travel through a maze, but one that you knew the way out of, but would disconnect you from the rest of the world.
"This..." Vithkun said and stopped as the reached a small grove with rose bushes stretching into the vast sky covering a small boat house like a giant hand gently sheltering it from the outside world. "... This is a place I would retreat to often when I was young and stayed with Gandrys - it is almost surreal to see it again and the rose bushes have grown even larger." he said almost with marvel and gave Myra a smile hoping she had not been put off by the small adventure. The elf gently tucked her hand and drew her towards the boat house where a slim and elongated and carefully cut out all white boat with room to carry two in front of each other was moored.
"There is a small recluse island out there as you might see the starlight pointing to..!" Vith gesticulated out over the quite sizable lake the stood at. "I'd like to take you there." he spoke softly and nodded towards the boat. "If you haven't been into such a boat before, hold onto my hand and I'll support you as you step down. It might rock a little but being of elven make it will take a storm to make it tip over." Vithkun then joining Myra in the boat taking the single oar quietly paddling out on the lake with only the starlight to bathe them and the comforting chuckling of the water licking the edges of the boat.
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