|
Post by Ashleigh on Mar 22, 2010 9:50:48 GMT -5
Introduction
Welcome to the Mystic Forest roleplay! This roleplay is perfect for beginner roleplayers who aren't quite sure how to get started roleplaying. The Mystic Forest is a generalized fantasy world with general fantasy races, so newcomers can easily wrap their heads around the concept and get involved in the world. Your character can be anything from a human to an elf or faerie and live their lives any way you want them to.
Rules
I. Please be respectful, keep your posts appropriate and generally just follow all of RPF's general rules. II. Please don't Godmod. This is making your character indestructible or taking control of other peoples' characters. Your character should have both strengths and weaknesses that aid and hinder them equally. III. Do not kill another player's character unless it has been agreed to in an OOC talk. IV. No double posting, someone has to post after you before you post again. V. All role-playing is in the third person, past-tense narrative. VI. Please use proper grammar and paragraph structure. VII. At least five sentences per post, but more is always encouraged.
Main Villages
Sunrise Village- On the far eastern side of the forest, it mostly consist of humans with a few halfings, closest to the Human world Sunset Village- On the far western side of the forest, mostly consists of Faeries and Elves, closest to Fae world. It is the largest village. Northshore Village- On the Northern Shore of Siren Lake. Has a good mixture of creatures Southshore Village- On the Southern Shore of Siren Lake, also has a good mixture of creatures.
Other Important Places
The Mourning Tree- Place where the dead are brought to be laid to rest, it grows inbetween Southshore Village and Sunset Village. The Healing Tree- Place where people are brought to be tended to when sick or wounded. It is the largest tree in the forest and is hollowed out into a sort of hospital on the inside. Is also by Sunset Village. The Guardian's Willow- A tree whose location very few know as it is hidden by magic. It is a tree the Guradians live around in huts and have meetings high up in the branches of the tree. If you desperately need to find this place, the path will open to you.
Important NPCs
Granny Oak - Healer of the Forest. Brona - Keeper of the Dead. She lives in the top branches of The Mourning Tree, presides over Farewell Ceremonies and guards the souls of the dead who are laid to rest there. The Guardians - This group of faeries act as political leaders of the Forest. They resolve disputes and generally keep the peace. Tharion - General of the army, though rarely uses his power. He is the Commander, Fiera's, lover.
For more information on these characters, review their profiles in the NPC Profile section and the Encyclopedia.
The Story
The Mystic Forest is a forest situated between the Astral and Material Planes. It's the border between the material world of humans and the fantasy world. Over the centuries, both humans and fantasy creatures have found their way to this hidden spot between the mundane and magical and have settled here to raise their families. All the different races mingle here peacefully.
The path to the Mystic Forest is said to only reveal itself to those the Lady chooses. The Astral Plane is governed by a female deity whose spirit dwells within all living things, known as simply The Lady. She is the one and only Goddess of all creation.
The Forest has been fairly peaceful since the arrival of Commander Fiera, but a war still wages between the Forest and the dragons who dwell just outside its boundaries on the Astral Plane.
This war was started many centuries ago when a terrible drought ravaged the land and the dragons began attacking the forest for their food out of starved desperation. Now, the war has waged on for so long that only the Guardians remember how or why it started, but the threat of a dragon attack is still very real.
The roleplay begins following a fierce battle that has claimed the lives of two of the forest's Guardians.
|
|
|
Post by Ashleigh on Mar 24, 2010 17:19:39 GMT -5
Fiera was aware of nothing as she numbly carried the body of her best friend slowly towards the Mourning Tree and laid her gently on the pile of brush and wood, being careful not to so much as bend the tip of her wing.
The faerie was still, her spirit long gone to the Realm of the Dead, but her beauty in life had not faded in death. Her milk pale skin glowed beneath her long silken mane of raven-coloured hair, her soft red lips in a solemn expression.
Beside this faerie laid another, a strongly-built man with a crop of obsidian hair and cinnamon skin, his arms folded neatly across his chest. This was Kangee, Duvessa's lover. Although Fiera had never liked Kangee, he had died trying to shield Duvessa from harm and for this, Fiera had a new sense of respect for the otherwise callous, arrogant man.
Duvessa... Fiera thought weakly. She's gone. I couldn't save her. I'm supposed to protect this Forest when danger arrives, but I couldn't protect her. Duvessa... my best friend...
A hand on her shoulder brought her back to the moment. "Come sit," Tharion murmured gently to the distraught elf, leading Fiera to a place in the first row of mourners. Their daughter, Yali, leaned over to hug Fiera, but Fiera didn't hug her back. She was hardly aware of Yali's arms around her.
Brona, the nymph who was Keeper of the Dead stood to speak. Fiera didn't bother to listen. What could she say that would truly emphasize how brave and kind and fiercely loyal Duvessa had been? There were no words to describe just how special this Guardian was. She had lost her life fighting to protect her home. Wasn't that enough to show the depth of her passion and bravery?
Fierce, foreboding and oftentimes terrifying Fiera, Commander of the Mystic Forest's army, was lost.
|
|
|
Post by Crow on Mar 24, 2010 23:12:46 GMT -5
Muscles taught, senses alert, it was with her usual paranoia that Sori stalked the undergrowth. Her atlatl, her trusty spear thrower, tight between her fingers, she held it close and ready to set. Although any value the tool had was lost to the undergrowth and the nymph plied several such trouble causing saplings out of her path, some need for security kept the dart ready. Would it be fearsome rabbit, or a dragon that popped out from that shadow? Who could be too ready, really? Each step, far more saplings sprang back, or ferns, or other dangerously tricksy creatures who had no desire to listen to her whatsoever. In the face of any hungry bunnies, she couldn’t help herself from quietly muttering, peaking with frustration, asking that a fern might not bar her way next time. No such luck. Could she not be a creeping ivy, and slink by? No. And it was in this way, that Sori Deer journeyed through the forest unknown.
This was scarcely different than the other miles of forest from yesterday, or even the day before that, although the plants certainly differed in their scattering. Like little villages; she rather enjoyed the thought. Sori pushed a lock of rough hair behind her ear and checked her position to the sun, just visible through the canopy. What was in disturbing scarcity, in fact, were thistles, although a smattering of the lovely plants on occasion crossed the path of trampled creatures, a few of which she stooped to collect seeds from, were they in such season. And, she smiled to see, sometimes might transform on her passing anyway. Delightfully convenient blighters. Blighter. That was not a word she knew from before.
Oh, that was a dip!
The nymph yelped. Dart sailing as if let loose, pack terribly unbalanced, her palms struck soft, squishing leaf litter with a thump, tiny waves rolling, then silence remained in the emerald sea. A callused hand shot out, batting down a collection of swirled bushes viciously, followed by a little nose. A head popped above the foliage. Sori shook once, no newly acquired debris falling. With a huff, the decision came to brush her hair later. So much for defeating the wicked fern.
In actuality, and she prided herself on her acute attention, the forest had been thinning consistently, and it looked ahead like the density fell off in a most drastic way. She pulled her feet tight against her chest and listened.
There were voices, musical and clear. Sori crept closer. Her nose pricked to the scent of something so familiar and so undeniably tame for a moment her heart buckled and she could not rise.
|
|
|
Post by Ashleigh on Mar 24, 2010 23:47:07 GMT -5
As Brona lit the wood pile and Duvessa's body was engulfed in flames, the commander allowed only a single tear to slowly slide down her otherwise expressionless face. She felt her lover, Tharion, gently squeeze her hand but she made no motion to show that she felt it.
It wasn't until a sharp rustling and the surprised cry of someone taken by surprise rang out into the still morning air that Fiera turned her head, eyes narrowed in fury. How dare anyone disturb such a solemn observance? Had they no respect for a fallen Guardian?
Brona faltered in her closing speech, but quickly regained composure and continued on, dismissing all the mourners. The crowd dispersed, murmuring about what had caused the commotion nearby. Fiera didn't know who had so rudely disturbed the ceremony, either, but she intended to find out.
Abruptly rising to her feet, Fiera stalked towards the trees the sound had come from, livid with rage. She would show this insolent fool some respect even if she had to smash it into their heads with her fists.
"Fiera, wait for me!" Yali cried, running as fast as her bare feet would take her to catch up to her adoptive mother. She soon passed Fiera and headed towards the thicket herself. Behind her, Fiera could hear Tharion shouting after the little girl.
"Yali! Stay where I can see you! Come back here and put on your shoes. You'll hurt yourself in there!" he called before letting out an exasperated sigh of a father whose daughter never listened to him.
Yali disappeared behind tree trunks and brambles. As Fiera got closer to the thicket of trees and bushes, she spotted a sharp spear lying abandoned in the long grass. A weapon. There was an intruder nearby and her daughter had just disappeared towards the danger. As if to confirm her fears, Yali's terrified shriek snapped the grieving elf out of her haze.
"YALI!" she screamed, bounding into the trees without a second of hesitation. She only darted a few metres before she found the little girl crumpled on the ground, sobbing and holding her foot. Tharion, who had followed Fiera into the trees, fell to his knees beside his daughter.
"What happened? Are you hurt? Talk to me, Sweetheart," he soothed.
"Th-thistles..." she whined. "I stepped on them and they hurt me. They popped up from nowhere, I swear!"
While Tharion chastised Yali for not wearing her shoes like he told her to do and assured her she was fine, Fiera had her bow drawn, her muscles tensed and her eyes narrowed, every sense on alert for something that shouldn't be there. Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed movement heading away from them and sprang into action.
Within a few seconds, Fiera had released her arrow, hit her target in the shoulder and leaped on the person trying to make an unnoticed exit. She roughly slammed the intruder up against a broad tree trunk.
"Who are you?" she demanded in a voice sharp enough to cut diamonds. "What is your business here?"
|
|
|
Post by Crow on Mar 25, 2010 23:20:27 GMT -5
Solemn was the word that came to mind when listening to the collection of voices, or was it a single voice? What Sori was well aware of was the volume of fae, civilization of a sort she was not prepared to meet. And so, hauling to her feet, brushing off scratched hands and flicking away a beetle or too, she cast little eyes for her spear. No where to be seen. The usual brush and undergrowth, a bramble or two; was there sumac here? She rather enjoyed the tree. Much less fickle. The air tasted suddenly acrid. Something burning?
Heart quickened, mind followed. Sori cast around for her weapon more frantically. This was not a cooking fire. A sleek bone carving glinted palely on a bed of old soggy leaves. She stooped for it and a horrible cry broke over her on the other side of the- thistles! How delightful. But her lungs felt tight and her thoughts ran, and Sori, atlatl in hand, took for cover suddenly thankful for the undergrowth. Her spear, she hoped, she might stumble upon later, lest forced to craft a new one.
For a moment she thought she heard voices of that same music tone. Then a familiar whir in the air replaced it, blew the voices apart like so many sprightly seeds in a thunder shower. Sori screamed as the sound hit its mark. Pain flashed through her, and the low rattle of feet in the forest, came close behind. Bodily, she was driven into the nearest jagged trunk, bark and a smallish critter with many ticklish legs ready to fill her mouth and nose with a whiff of musk and dirt.
But too late.
Broad leaves spread, thorns followed, sharp teeth on the most unexceptional of flora. Sori the nymph had all but vanished! An indignant shake, and the thistle were still.
|
|
|
Post by Ashleigh on Mar 26, 2010 8:33:08 GMT -5
"Blast it!" Fiera swore as the person she had shoved against the tree vanished under her fingers as a new growth of thistles blossomed beneath her feet at the foot of the tree. Well, now she knew what this stranger was. "Nymphs!" she shouted. "I hate Nymphs!"
"Don't let Brona or Granny Oak hear you say that," Tharion muttered.
"Cowardly twits who turn into water or air or a rock rather than fight..." Fiera grumbled.
Yali, whose foot seemed to already be feeling better, crawled from her spot a few feet away from the nymph and slowly approached the thick growth of thistles that was still quivering slightly from Fiera's attack.
"Yali, stay back! We don't know this stranger's intentions!" Fiera snapped, sharply grabbing the girl's arm. Yali frowned up at the formidable commander before stretching as far as she could go towards the thistles in her mother's tight grasp.
"It's okay," she called to the quivering weeds. "This is Fiera. She's my mother. I know she looks really scary, but she's not so bad." Behind them, Tharion stifled a laugh, but quickly stopped at one cold glare from Fiera. "You can come out. Your shoulder must hurt. Granny Oak can fix it. Please?" Yali begged.
Fiera sighed, still holding onto the little girl's arm. Only a fool would spot an intruder and attempt to be friends with her. What is wrong with this child? Have I taught her nothing? she thought irritably to herself.
|
|
|
Post by Crow on Mar 26, 2010 16:38:18 GMT -5
“I beg your pardon!” came an indignant cry. A very perverse, unnatural cry, as thorns began to fall and leaves twisted into powerful limbs. Like mud disturbed in water, whorls of brown began to run through green, as leaves softened to become skin. “My intentions were to carry on walking, thank you very much,” Sori said, much more clearly now that her form had drawn into something less of a plant. The fluffy seeds of spent flowers floated off her skin, and there again, stood a young woman, face to a tree.
What the transformation hadn’t done was stop the blood seeping from Sori’s shoulder, and she winced as she addressed her attackers, a surprising bunch, shocking in their looks. A world worn woman, snarls that could mask her beauty, and a young girl. Of course that was something of a joke. Sori knew elves aged much slower, and while this girl might look young and lack the cynicism brought with maturity, it occurred to the nymph, who never had much contact with elves, that she might be far beyond Sori in many other ways. It was unnerving, a bit. But more pressing matters.
Her tools had been lost again and her pack was scattered over the ground, bits of sinew, small tools for scraping and carving, and a few meagre dishes. Only now did she notice a third elf, though her gaze remained firmly on the young woman who had so unkindly assailed her. And while it occurred to Sori that it was perhaps the grace of the child saving her from certain death, it was time to deal with some options here. Running? That’s out. Resting against her foot, a discarded arrow. She didn’t think it had gone too deep, maybe losing its mark in the beginnings of her transformation, but their were certainly more waiting. Sori had broken many a spear tip when hitting the wrong thing, and arrows looked so much more flimsy. Lucky for this basket case, her arrow would probably have been preserved. She pressed gently around the wound. There was even a tear in the skin of her shirt! Sori groaned. More work to be seen to.
So what about talking? That seemed about the only other option. Plants could burn as easily as people after all, and this woman looked like just the sort to light a thicket aflame or pack it full of arrowheads. Maybe she even ate stones for breakfast.Too bad Sori Deer had never been very good at talking.
“Calling an unarmed woman cowardly? I ask you!”
|
|
|
Post by Ashleigh on Mar 26, 2010 17:16:51 GMT -5
Fiera gave a furious grunt that was really more of a snarl and raised her fists. "Why you impudent-"
Before she had the chance to cause farther harm to the nymph, Tharion leaped forward to hold Fiera back. A quick kiss to her temple made the angered woman reluctantly step backward as Tharion came closer to the nymph and gave a smile. "Please excuse my beautiful, lovely, enchanting sweetheart here," he said quickly, saying anything to keep Fiera from lunging straight for the nymph's throat. "What Fiera means to say is that she feels she was justified in her attack because she was trying to protect our daughter. When we lost sight of her and all of a sudden, heard her scream, I must admit, even I feared for her safety."
"My mother is the commander of our army. She's used to attacking first and asking questions later," Yali giggled.
"Hush, child!" Fiera snapped, though stroked the girl's shoulder-length golden hair in a gesture of gentle affection.
"It's our duty to protect our people," Tharion explained. "We've just come from the Farewell Ceremony of a close friend of ours and I'm afraid we may have acted rashly in our grief. If you mean us no harm, we will take you to our healer to repair your wound and welcome you to the Mystic Forest."
"We will do no such thing! She is an outsider!" Fiera shouted, making Yali jump and scramble behind her father.
"You were an outsider once, too, Fiera," he pointed out sharply, then nodded to the nymph. "You already know Fiera. I'm Tharion, General of the Mystic Forest's army, and this is our daughter, Yali. I'm assuming you have a name?" he teased.
|
|
|
Post by Crow on Mar 28, 2010 23:47:31 GMT -5
Even as the elf stepped away, Sori continued to cower against the trunk of the tree, her forth captor in this awful mess. She couldn’t remember having such bad luck since, well ever! Unless you counted that time she was nearly chased down by the elk, or maybe that other time, when she’d disturbed a shewolf watching her cubs, or how about that time Yarrow had- well never mind that. If the woman was a fright, this man was just as bad, there was no room for chances. But as Sori recoiled she was shocked by what he said.
Slowly, she nodded, but while the light giggles of the girl did some to ease her, her assurances were not something Sori would find herself laughing at. But then she understood. The import of a Farewell Ceremony was not lost on her. Sori cast her eyes to the side. Only for a moment; the woman’s, Fiera’s, blazing temper made thorns prick against her skin. Thorns, which might have blossomed into terrible, twisted plants, if the nymph did not check herself.
She smiled. A friendly, apologetic sort of smile, small, almost a frown on the edges. “I am very sorry I intruded. I did not know, you know. My name,” she said, looking up from under her fringe, “is Sori Deer.”
|
|
|
Post by Ashleigh on Mar 29, 2010 13:29:50 GMT -5
Yali giggled at the sound of the nymph's name. "That sounds like "Sorry Dear"," she laughed. "Tharion says that to Fiera a lot."
"Yali, manners!" Tharion scolded the young elf. Yali clamped her mouth shut, looking reproachful. Tharion turned to Sori. "Don't mind her. She is still young and her tongue runs away with her sometimes. Come with us. That wound needs to be repaired before you lose too much blood. Our healer, Granny Oak will be able to fix it."
"Do you plan to offer her tea and biscuits as well?" Fiera snapped irritably.
"I like biscuits! Can we have biscuits when we get home?" Yali asked brightly. Fiera sighed and rubbed her temples. How had a day of solemn mourning turned into this? She didn't feel like welcoming guests. She wanted to mourn her friend in peace.
They left the thicket of trees and brush to take Sori to the Healing Tree. Tharion tore off a piece of his trousers and pressed it to the nymph's shoulder as they walked. Yali skipped beside Fiera behind them, holding her hand and seemingly oblivious to the sadness her mother felt.
"Good heavens! Who is this and why is she bleeding like that?" demanded the old, wrinkled Granny Oak as she hurried to take Sori to a spare cot.
"Fiera," Tharion explained simply. Granny Oak nodded, understanding the entire story from that one word, much to Fiera's agitation.
You would think I was some kind of barbarian! she thought furiously to herself. A small cough caused her gaze to to wander to her right. Pierce Rockwood, one of the forest's Guardians, was sitting on the edge of another cot, staring with blank eyes into nothing. He looked like a shell of a person. Granny Oak sighed and shook her head.
"He's in shock," she explained. "Duvessa's death has affected him badly."
Fiera walked over and put a hand on the faerie's shoulder. "We all miss her, Pierce," she said rather haltingly. Comforting others was never something Fiera had been skilled at. Pierce merely nodded, not even turning his head to look at her.
"Good gracious, Commander, you shot her with an arrow?!?" Granny Oak screeched when Yali gave her the full recount of how Sori had ended up injured. Fiera scowled and stalked out of the tree. She didn't have the patience to deal with this right now.
Inside, Tharion sighed and looked apologetically at Sori. "She can be difficult to understand, but she really is very kind and compassionate. I hope you won't hold her actions today against her."
|
|
|
Post by Crow on Jun 27, 2010 22:41:57 GMT -5
She looked at Yali and shrugged. Such was name and the observations of children, even children whose experience might far surpass hers, was not something Sori felt inclined to cringe over. Particularly now, when her shoulder ached fiercely and the looks of Fiera sent a strange mix of anger and anxiety boiling through her veins. Sori took a breath as her skin bristled and let a second wave of irritation pass. She looked at Yali, and a harsh bark of laughter left her lips before following the trio into the unknown.
The Healing Tree and Granny Oak were much as to be expected, although she felt more apprehension than comfort despite the woman’s concerned demeanor. Tharion’s improvised dressings had been a gesture of apology too, after all. She was a stranger, she had been lurking around. Sori sat on the cot with a small thump. Society grated on her, it had been so very long.
She let her eyes wander to the other beds and the man lying nearby. Was Duvessa the one they mourned? Sori decided it didn’t matter. The lives and deaths of others weren’t her concern. Before Fiera could catch her staring as she spoke to the man, Sori returned her attention to the matter at hand. She met Tharion’s eyes with a look of what she hoped was a well measured amount of gratitude, but also a confidence. Something that might say she was capable regardless of this wound.
“Perhaps I won’t,” she said with a glance at Fiera. She waved her hands to indicate the greater forest. “What is happening here?”
|
|
|
Post by Ashleigh on Jun 27, 2010 23:39:09 GMT -5
Yali looked down sadly and Tharion sighed, running a hand through his shoulder-length obsidian locks.
"It is very sad," he told Sori. "A great tragedy has befallen the forest and claimed the lives of two of our sacred Guardians. The Guardian Duvessa Nightstone was Fiera's closest friend."
"The Faerie Queen came and attacked us," Yali whispered, her blue eyes wide with fear. "That's where Duvessa was born and the Faerie Queen wanted Duvessa to sacrifice her to the scary monster."
Tharion, realizing the frightened account of a sixty-year old child was probably rather confusing to a newcomer, elaborated. "Duvessa was born in the Land of Fae as a high-ranking noble, but ran away at a young age. The Lady chose her to be a Guardian of the Mystic Forest and she has resided here with us, watching over the Forest peacefully and defending it in times of peril for two centuries.
"Duvessa was unaware that the Faerie Queen of her home realm was looking for her. Faeries are by nature vain and fickle about appearances, but the Queen placed her own youth and beauty above all else. She had a great serpent that she would sacrifice a young, beautiful woman to each Faerie year and in exchange, the serpent would grant the Queen youth and beauty for another Faerie year.
"The Queen sought Duvessa to be the sacrifice of this Faerie year and waged a brutal war upon the Forest to retrieve her and sacrifice her to the serpent. Her warriors descended upon the most innocent and defenseless among us... our children. Countless children were slaughtered mercilessly for no reason other than to distract our warriors while the Queen took Duvessa.
"When Commander Fiera realized this, she immediately launched a rescue mission to get Duvessa back, but she was too late. The serpent had already devoured her and the Queen had left a brutal trail of blood and death in our home, having gotten what she wanted.
"Commander Fiera did manage to slay the serpent and retrieve Duvessa's body, along with Kangee's, Duvessa's lover. He had been part of the rescue but was killed in the process as well.
"The Guardians are sacred. They are bound to the forest by their very hearts. They are the physical embodiment of the Mystic Forest and the Lady's will. When a Guardian dies, a part of our home dies, and so does a part of the Lady's spirit. To lose two Guardians so close together is... a grave tragedy," he finished mournfully.
"My friend Isis died," Yali admitted, starting to cry. "I saw her die..." Tharion picked up the crying girl and tried to soothe her with an apologetic look to Sori.
"It is unfortunate that you came at such a devastating time," he told her. "The Mystic Forest is normally a place of great beauty and strong spirit."
|
|
|
Post by Crow on Jul 1, 2010 16:27:35 GMT -5
Sori boggled. “I’m from Fae,” she said sharply, interrupting Tharion as he spoke, though she straightened, surprised to hear of nobles and queens. For Sori, hierarchy was simple. Your elders had prestige over you, anyone versed in medicine likewise. Nobles were people of great lineage and great success. Royalty was a tale of other peoples, those mythical clans that lived in one place all their lives, keeping one fire. The nymph had never seen such a place until she had left her home, and still, she had often wondered if all the stories came from the Mystic Forest, and not Fae. “Anything between here and there is lost on me. I would not know better if the forest weren’t so different-”
She stopped, Tharion had continued and she’d not really been listening. All the talk of queens and sacrifices. Her body shook painfully with the first tick of laughter, but she checked herself before it could peal like a bell. Her mouth was twisted, open with shock, her eyebrows knit in a soft show of disbelief. Although her limbs were giddy with humour her stomach roiled anxiously. “You can’t be serious! All for the vanity of a stupid woman? Hah. Snapdragons, that! Serpents that feed on fae? Immortal youth? No magic can do that!”
Sori’s eyes found the girl child. Small, perhaps without understanding, her eyelashes dark with tears. Tharion scooped her into his arms and stroked her, but his eyes stayed on the nymph. Sori watched her, locks of hair falling over her face, not quite shamed, not quite whole.
“You’re serious? You’re serious? This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Out of a firetale!” She took a breath. “I’m sorry, Yali.” And was quiet, lost in thoughts.
(Footnote here. Snapdragons can sometimes represent deception and whimsical things. Seemed a fitting proverb of sorts for an earth nymph.)
|
|
|
Post by Ashleigh on Jul 1, 2010 19:54:51 GMT -5
Tharion gave Sori a harsh glare. "I beg your pardon? Do you mean to imply that we are liars or fools? It is possible. It did happen and many of us lost our children and our friends to show for it! You may be a newcomer, but that does not give you the right to disrespect our people or the great sacrifices we have suffered!"
Yali dashed furious tears from her eyes and struggled out of her father's grasp. "You're a big fat meanie! You don't care at all, you blasted pisswart!"
"Yali! Mind your language!" Tharion scolded sharply, but his words fell on uncaring ears. Yali had dashed out of the Healing Tree.
Tharion sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "She gets that kind of language from her mother," he mumbled.
Outside, Fiera heard Yali's sobs and her eyes snapped open. She had been leaning against a nearby oak, trying to calm herself before she did anything to cause more unrest in the forest. She saw Yali scampering towards her, still shoe-less. Dark tear streaks ran down her pale porcelain face.
"What's wrong? What happened?" Fiera asked her sharply when the young girl flung her arms around her mother's waist. Fiera was shocked at how much Yali had grown. Since when had she been able to bury her face in Fiera's stomach? Hadn't she only reached up to Fiera's thigh but a few weeks ago? Fiera tried to shake that disturbing thought from her mind.
"I want to go home!" Yali demanded, still crying. "Please... can we go home? I just want to go home," she wept.
"Where is Tharion?" Fiera asked, leaning down to wipe the girl's face clean of tears and snot.
"With the pisswart," Yali scowled. Fiera raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. After all, it wasn't as though she could reprimand the child for using a word Fiera herself used at least a dozen times a day.
|
|
|
Post by Crow on Jul 7, 2010 12:54:42 GMT -5
Sori’s first instinct was anger. Heat roiled beneath her skin, her heart quickened, a wave of malice choked her momentarily. A scowl might have twisted her face, were she not well practiced in hiding such things. She gave the girl child a blank stare as she sped from the tree. A pisswart indeed! Having evidently intended to suggest just that, that they were absolutely off the wall, Sori could only wonder. Were they not fools, they were deluded, taken by some quaint delirium to tell tall tales. Except, they didn’t seem deluded, and that disturbed her. This tragedy had happened. And the implications were not at all lost on the mislaid nymph.
Still, Sori felt her shoulders sag and a sudden weight overwhelm her. It was with great effort that she forced herself to stand and follow the girl from the comfort of the Healing Tree, the sudden movement startling her healer as she’d tried to lift the makeshift dressings off. Head held high, she straightened and walked swiftly past the elves outside. Behind her came the calls of Tharion and the Oak woman, though she ignored both, whatever further wisdom they might impart on her was undesired. Her mind came to a focus, a sharp point like that of a spear tip, keen and made for its quarry.
Too much seemed to happen too quickly, in a life where very little happened beyond the whisperings of plants. A moment of apprehension shook her when she remembered the torments of fever and infection, her shoulder still aching fiercely. Small wounds could fester as easily as big ones. A deep breath, and she passed once more into the thicket. Injuries were expected, everyday life for a hunter, especially a bumbling one, and she had survived those. Healing magic aside, Sori knew the forest. And she was beginning to think the forest was the only thing she knew.
As with battles being of a messy, destructive nature, it didn’t take long for the nymph to find her pack and tools among the crushed plants and broken thistle heads. She slipped her atlatl into her belt, comforted by the familiar feel of the carved bone and held the short spear tightly between her fingers. Heaving the pack onto one shoulder, Sori appraised the little dwelling a final time.
She was drawn between two worlds once more. Stay with the upstart elves, and hope they might forgive her enough to share the many things they knew that she did not. Or return to the endless forest, always wandering, always seeking her next meal, or the next chance to escape that which sought her.
|
|