Whats your story?

[Ruthia]

Well.....here it is, not sure if anyones intrested.


Ruthia's story starts on a sunny, semi peaceful planet known as Pern. Pern was a place where dragons and humans co exsisted peacefully for a very long time. Many of the humans here where naive to the ways of magic, to the ways of evil. And when evil magic found it's way to the planet, it took the planet by storm. A human who went by the name of Guardian James rilied the once peaceful people against their long time companions and helpers, the dragons. In one bloody and dark night, over three quarters of the planets dragon population was killed while sleeping in thier wyers under the watchful eyes of thier human riders, some even killed by thier riders....


Days turn to Months, Months to years as slowly every dragon on Pern is either sold into slavery, killed off, or captured for the guardians own uses. A few, very very few, remained free in the wild. This in of it's self was unnatural as Pern dragons were completely dependent on humans to begin with. One such gold laid a nest of eggs deep in a mountain..only to be found and killed, the bulk of her eggs destroyed or sold off. One lone egg was left behind, to be found by a human y the name of BelJames. He stayed, watched the egg hatch, determined to nuture the young being inside.....


Years turn into decades as the young dragon learns and grows, changes. She learns, adapting to the ways of magic and the ways of humans, becoming herself a human and loosing herself into that social structure. She finds love, loses it, only to find it again and lose it yet again. Some people say she was a hopeless romantic, others say she was just a horny animal out looking for things that she wasn't meant to have. But despite these critics she, again, found love. Imreis. He loved her for her faults, loved her for her silly side, her animal side..he loved every bit about her. She had found...happiness.


Four years of marriage later and through his help she has over come much. Marriage and children are hers, happiness is hers. She has a large family that love and care for her, and she in return for them. With thier help she has over come her enemies time and again, truely proving that there is very very little her family can not do....if they confront it together.

 

[Bari]

This is a short summary of Bari's story:

It was in the isolated world of Lorenor where Jaún Silverleaf was born, as a result of his mother's rape by her own uncle. He was sent to his distant uncle Garrick and his husband Fabio, due to his father's murder in a brawl and her mother's suicide after childbirth. Garrick and Fabio were straightforward enough to tell him the truth of his parentage when he was ten, even if he already knew he wasn't the natural son of the two men. This left Jaún pondering, if he was really to come to the world, or if he was just a mistake of nature. However, his doubts didn't hold him back, and he did every thing he could to prove himself and the others that he was not alive by accident, and that he was a Silverleaf in mind aside from blood. However, Bari had inherited his mother's kindness and compassion, and his moral and ethical beliefs prevented him from becoming a valuable asset to the Family, should it be as an assassin, spy, or thug.

However, while he was not good enough for his Family, he was good enough for another organization, much bigger. The Sect, as it was called, the conspirating power behind almost all planned evil on Lorenor. The Silverleaves were part of the Cult of the Spider, one of the Sect's branches, that worked as a research team to improve the Sect's minions, altering their bodies by alchemy and sometimes magic. Jaún, who was renamed "Bari" (which means "failure" in Lorenian hobbitish) was sent by one of his relatives to "look for a job", and was kidnapped when he arrived, to be inmediately put into stasis and "improved" as a test subject. He was modified to imitate cats, to try and reproduce their swiftness, stealth, and accuracy. However, a brutal mistake in the process started a chain reaction that would slowly shrink his heart until it was about the size of a cat's: After a determinate number of years, Bari would die of cardiacal insufficiency, which (coupled with the fact that the "improvements" were to manifest after another number of years) rendered Bari useless and hence a failed project. Bari faced an eternal sleep in his stasis, for he was never to be released from it. What the Cult didn't know was that the altering proccess had also altered the halfling's brain, giving him a remarkable (while not extremely powerful) psionic potential.

There were other powers on Lorenor aside the Sect. One of the good powers, an ancient race whose's only known name was the "Walkers of the Void" was specifically against it. These voidwalkers were attracted to the Cult's lair by the weak yet noticeable psionic emanations that came from Bari's mind. They attacked the Cultists and freed most of the experiments, while they took Bari into custody for examination. While they were unable to unlock the hairfoot's full potential, they managed to free enough power so he could try and battle the Cult's mind control on him, and then, convinced he'd "have to free himself on his own" released him on another world, Oerth. The Cult had already sent some of his agents to that world and others, on an attempt to expand itself, through they were repelled time and time again - and because of those moments Bari was under the Cult's influence, Bari gained a bad reputation between the few that met the group. The halfling soon didn't have nowhere to go: He was chased by the Cult and hated by the people at his homeland, and he had pretty dangerous enemies on the new land. It was a miracle that the halfling managed to survive.

Aided by the Voidwalkers and by the one he considered the love of his life, Bari was able to finally free himself, and now looks forward to fulfilling his duties as a Voidknower and unlocking his psionic potential.


And ah... that's about it.

 

[Brutal Bonegrinder]

Just wanted to thank everyone for posting here, some very interesting lives are unfolding before us. Keep it up!

 

[Elf_Ariel]

Ahhh hmmm, I shall have to begin writing again. There is much to tell, so much that will come in time. But I read these stories with interest indeed.

 

[Kallikrates]

Yes, I concur. Very good stories.

 

[Sienna_Rose]

For Always and Ever

She looks over the desolation, the wind whipping her cape about, and what few strands of her hair that manage to escape her tight braid. Her violet eyes are troubled, an expression she will never let her troops see. She thinks we’ll stop following, if we see how this all bothers her. She’s wrong, there. Most of us would follow her to the edge of the world. She’d be able to get us back again. She’s been able to keep too many of us from falling and swelling his troops. The gods knew what they were doing when they chose her to bear that sword. When they chose her to stop him. Would that I could ease her burden. Take away whatever it is about that scar on her hand that adds so much to what she carries.


The children collapse in a fit of giggles after their race. Finally controlling himself, the boy props himself up on his elbows, “We’ll be friends forever, won’t we, Sienna?”
The girl grins up at him, “Of course we will, Serion.”
“For always?”
“For always and ever.”


“General?”
That determined, bitter look is gone when she turns to face me, she looks calm and alert – even in her eyes, those windows that give so much away in others.
“Yes, Lieutenant Caldon?”
“The scouts have returned and are on route to the command tent.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant.”

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
It’s a war. And in war, there are casualties. Fatalities. But, she’s not supposed to be among them. Even from where I am, I can see the sword that has run her through. But, still, she fights on. And the clerics are so far away. Even the ones who are supposed to be at her side.
I cannot see it, but there are those that can. I know it, though, in my dread. Bright as the day is, illuminating this macabre scene, I know there is a shadow over her. The scythe is raised, and she will be lost to us. All that we may do is keep him from claiming her and adding her to his ever swelling ranks.
* * * * * * * *
“Do not take her. She is still needed.”
“It is her time. You know as well as I do what that means.”
“There have been extensions granted before.”
“In rare cases.”
“Let this be one. She is the only one. And you want him stopped as much as we do.”
“You know the price.”
“Of course.”
“Very well then.”
* * * * * * * *
She stands, still, though she is flagging. And the clerics, Gods be praised, have gotten to her side. All is not lost.



“For always and ever.”
“Oath on it.”
“Oath?”
“Yeah. My brother and Gregor swore an oath, on their blood –“
“So, you do mean a blood oath.”
“Uh-huh. “
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
The knife between their palms hurts, and the mingling of blood is just gross, but, the children are sincere in their oath. Friends. For always and ever.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
“Do you really have to go?”
“Uh-huh. Martig can’t teach me any more. The mage school’s the only place for me now.”
The violet eyed girl throws her arms around her friend, “Don’t forget me.”
The boy holds up a scarred palm, “Of course I won’t. We’ll always be friends.”
She holds up her own scarred palm, smiling through her tears, and puts her hand against his, “For always and ever.”


Her eyes flicker when she hears the news. He is with the troops this time. That grim determination touches her features, as well as a touch of sadness, when she looks down at that scar. She nods, and the look is gone. If it was ever there. She asks her questions, issues her orders. This will be the last. They will face each other. Win or lose, for light or dark, it will be decided.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
She has met him, they stand before each other. I fight my way over, to be by her side in this final confrontation.
“Why do you oppose me, Sienna?”his voice is full of scorn.
“I have to, Serion. Look at what you’re doing.”
“And?”
“You’re bleeding the life from the world.”
“Our oath meant nothing to you, did it?”
“The oath I made was to one who died long ago.”
He nods, “So be it.”
His spell fails though, deflected by the sword that was bestowed upon her. The next meets the same fate. He draws a weapon, his troops drawing near. But, as he attacks and she defends, his eyes flicker, the greed and cruelty gone, for a moment. He drops before her, upon his knees, pleading in a whisper, “Do it.”
She raises her sword, and his lips curl in a sneer. He mocks her, “Friends for always,” even as he lunges to take advantage of what he sees as an opening.
She is ready though, and her sword strikes true, severing his neck, she whispers “For always and ever.”
His head rolls, eyes wide in shock that she kept steady, despite his taunts.

* * * * * * * *
“It is done. It has been done. It is past her time.”
“But, she is a heroine, she cannot go to you.”
“That is the price. You knew it was.”
“But –“
“There are rules that even you cannot bend. It is her time. Past her time. She is not needed. The rebuilding is beyond needing her aid, the battle has been done.”
* * * * * * * *
The tales will tell that the gods took her home to them. They certainly sent her some where. But, it wasn’t to their home.
I saw it, this time. The shadow, the scythe. But, as the scythe swung, she stepped . . .and was gone.
I heard the shattering. The running of sands. The shout.
“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?”
“She will not be your’s.”
“LOOK! LOOK UPON WHAT YOU HAVE WROUGHT!”
The sands are the roar of the ocean.
“Can nothing be done?”
“It was her time. You have broken the cycle. Bring her back.”
“We cannot.”

I can feel them notice me. It is the shadow that speaks, “You understand?”

Somehow, I do. I nod. To the understanding, to the necessity of what must be given. The shadow scythe swings toward me now. The sands still, and the robes settle about my shoulders, the smooth wood of a new scythe in my hands.

“She’d have agreed to the price, had she known.”
“Of course.”

 

[Mortonia]

She flitted through the crowd in a gown of velvet that clung to her curves like a burgundy skin. Her face was alive with mirth as she moved through the party-goers, but none of it touched her eyes. Not that any of them noticed - the sycophants and the pretty robed popinjays that clung to the last vestiges of a dying family.

She laughed merrily at a joke as she briefly leaned on the arm of a tall, handsome man, steel gray hair and deep blue eyes adorning a rugged face. She accepted his invitation to visit him later with barely a nod, and made her way again through the lords and ladies all paying their respects to the Baron Rousseau. Many of those gathered in the room had tied their family's fortunes to his; they would be heartily disappointed come morning, but there was no lack of would-be nobility in the city of Greyhawk.

She finally found the Baron himself, along with his new wife standing in the middle of dance floor speaking with several ministers. He had been a handsome man once, but war in the Pomarjj had taken it's toll on him. Still, he had presence, and her employers felt he could be a problem; a problem best solved discreetly and with as little mess as possible. She wound her way through the throng gathering close to the Baron, if only so they could tell their friends that they had overheard the Baron and his lady speaking on some subject. Courtiers were the same, no matter what court they were members of. As she passed by the Baron and his new wife, she reached out, her mind searching, scrambling through the tsunami of consciousness that washed over her, until she finally found the two she wanted. She focused, concentrated, and felt them snap as she made her way towards the door, her ebony hair ruffled by the wind as she opened it to step outside.

The door was closing when the screams began, and Allesandra D'Angelie was all but forgotten by the horrified people inside, as the Baron and his wife lay dead on the floor. Perhaps I will accept the grand-duke's offer of a toss, she mused to herself. He was, after all, well connected, and not a bad looking man to boot. Playing the courtesan for him could lead to some interesting opportunities later.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The bald man ghosted through the cool, dimly lit hall, a trouble expression on his otherwise unremarkable face. He entered the council chamber, paused for recognition from the chamberlain, and then approached the dais where the seven elders sat, conversing among themselves.

"Ah, Lurien!" the oldest of the seven said, though only those that knew them would have known he was the eldest. His face held a timeless quality that seemed to defy quantifying with a mere number of years.

"Hail, Elder Acel," Lurien replied gravely. The Elder rose from his companions, and went from the dais to speak with his messenger, placing a gentle hand on the younger man's shoulder and guiding him away from the rest of the council.

"Were you able to find her?" Acel inquired, his voice low.
"I was," he said, but his voice held a tone of misgiving.
"Is there some problem, Lurien?" Acel asked, sensing the other's distress, but not understanding the cause. "Is she not what I suspected?"
"She is..." the younger man paused, not knowing how to continue, not wishing to offend the Elder, but unable to completely mask his distaste. "She uses her abilities ... she is a common assassin, Elder."

Acel looked at Lurien in surprise, his brown eyes narrowing thoughtfully as he considered those words. "You saw this?" When the other man merely nodded, Acel said, simply, "Show me."

The two stood, face to face, staring at one another for nearly twenty minutes before either of them spoke. When he finally closed his eyes and blinked, Acel asked, "You are sure it was her?"

The other said nothing. The memory was now as fresh for Acel as it was for him, and there was no need to reply.

"Bring her to me," was all the Elder said. Lurien sighed faintly, but nodded. "As you will, Elder Acel."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Allesandra dashed through the dark, her rain-wet hair a sodden mess streaming down her back as she ran. She could hear the guards behind her, calling to one another in the dark. Damn them all, she thought furiously. He was supposed to be ALONE. Everything has been going fine until his mistress had entered the room, seen her standing on the window ledge, and began screaming as the blood had begun to flow from the man lying on the bed. A thought had cut the screams off as suddenly as they had begun, but not before the guards had been roused. Two of the guards had seen her. She was sure one of them wouldn't remember - would not, in fact remember anything more complicated than his name for the rest of his life, but the other...the other had shown surprising strength of mind, and she had not had the time to be sure of him.

She ducked into an alley between two buildings and skidded to a halt. A man was standing there. A bald man with a face that seemed familiar, and yet did not. The sort of face you would forget in a moment. He held out a hand, and his words rang in the vaults of her mind.

Come with me. Someone wants to meet you. To offer you a new life.

She didn't even have to think. She took his hand, and the vanished as the fruitless search consumed the night she had left behind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Four years later, Mortonia nee Allesandra D'Angelie, stood on a hilltop overlooking the City of Greyhawk nestled in the bends of the Selintane river below. She had been gone a while, and the Elders had worked to insure that anyone who might remember her previous life no longer remembered her.

She sighed, looking at the silver cuffs that now wrapped her wrists. They had been her choice, a reminder of promises made - promises that must be kept. The Council wanted eyes on the streets of Greyhawk, and as a local, they felt her the best person for the job. She shook her head silently, and took the first step of her journey, heading resolutely down the hill.

 

[Mayu Amakura]

Mayu has been through alot here. When she first showed up she was a human, plain and simple type of girl. That didn't last long of course, she was unfortunate enough to run into a rather famous vampire by the name of Defcarr. He attacked her, but instead of killing her off he turned her and left her where she was, plainly giving her the opportunity to find him if she so wished.

She made the decision once she recovered to find her sire, it took months of traveling before she happened upon the Crossroads Tavern and feeling that there was something there she needed to see she made her way inside. When she stepped into the tavern, images soared through her mind followed by a whispering voice. It beckoned her, calling her name. She looked about slowly before spotting the one she had been searching for throughout the past months.

There he sat, Defcarr. He was calling to her. Mayu accepted these calls and let herself be taken away by her sire, from then on she stayed under his watch, learning ,training and prowling the night as one of his underlings. Though, her most notable refrences took place during the period in which the group Darkness appeared in Greyhawk.

Mayu, having her hatred for leadership and her chaotic alignment, didn't last very long in the group herself. She was much too protective of her first child, Kipcha, and too controlling to last. She searched for a way out, and hoped that Kipcha would come with her. She eventually found what she was looking for, the one called Arlian. He redeemed her, her journey for deliverance completed, though with a bitter sweet end. Kipcha did not follow, for it seemed she did not share the same hopes as Mayu did.

Mayu was beside herself, though she knew battling the Darkness members in her human state was impossible, she attempted to anyhow. Her hatred, and thoughts of betrayal are what drove her in this period.

But, in a series of unfortunate twists, Mayu was not slain by the Darkness. During her efforts, she was taken down by one called Baharifet (sp on that.). After that, it seemed she had disappeared. Dead? Maybe.

Though now, after a period of absence, her form treads the floods baring a new view of her surroundings. How she has returned, and what plans she has for the people of Greyhawk will remain shrouded in mystery for storyline purposes of course.

 

[Danielle du Pris]

The honey-haired child was prone to stomach aches, headaches, loud screaming fits broken by angelic sweetness and intense loving devotion that got her alternately indulged and punished and avoided. The country estate seemed a more fitting place, away from the raised eyebrows of the Theocracy's capital that might start raising in her father's direction for not having better control over his offspring The other four children were so much more biddable. And even if away from her family except for annual summer visits, she was happy. Happier still, when she discovered and was accepted into the hidden druidic circle, though even they cautioned her about her temper.

She kept it hidden. She played at being ladylike when under her parents' eyes, only stubborn about being separated from her dog, and made excuses for not going with them when each summer passed. But then they came outside the normal time, her father intense with the exhilaration of a new campaign against the chaos that was rumoured to plague the district. Three items of high magic came with him, to be given to the commanders of the coming divisions. She snuck away to warn the circle, and guarded it while they met. Whoever was traitor proved traitor again and a small contingent of the Pale's troops approached. Druidic magics were holding them back when her dog bounded out to meet the leader. A beast attacking him! He slew it, and Melyssa went wild, and wildshape, and by the end there were three of the troops dead and the rest scattered. She returned to the manor shattered and shaken, and others brought back the body of her brother and the two of his men that had died.

What was done must be rectified, and a druid can do that. But somehow having the corpse of her brother raised as a loudly angry and accusatory dwarf caused even more disruption. She fled, taking the items that would be used against the druids with her, for they also provided protection against magical searches. A warrant went out: Melyssa Andrea Turgenot, who murdered her brother.

Honey-haired Melyssa who preferred commoner's garb. Henna-haired Danielle, who dressed as a high lady. But they were after her. The warrants kept appearing and drove her farther and farther away. And she couldn't shapechange anymore, not without losing the protection of the magic that kept them from finding her. Maddening to watch the eagles circling over the river, the wolf shadows bounding through the forest, and not be able to join them. Enough to drive one to drink, or sharpen the tongue to razor edge even if it sliced both ways. And there were other dangers around. She gave one the slip by slipping loose the antimagic, but he knew her abilities then and found out the other secret. He'd protect her, but the protection was far from Oerth and a druid's oaths are hard to transplant to alien soil. At least there was a place to shapechange now. Then a bounty hunter showed up asking about Danielle more than Melyssa and that was too disturbing. Danielle left, leaving a note asking Nicholaus not to follow.

And Danton showed up. Short henna-red hair and a beardless face with bright wary eyes that shifted in colour as easily as Danielle's had. Rough in mien, a young man trying to act tougher than he was. But he made more friends than Danielle, including two who offered yet another way out and this time the ability to stay on Oerth. He hadn't decided, when the bounty hunter decided for him. Too much study had given the hunter too much knowledge and a vampire might find himself in permanently grave trouble if he attempted a rescue. But the other way out was still there, and Danton "died" trying to escape.

Now the only one left is Dhanya, of the short dark brown hair, who arrived too late to help her cousin Danton. Such a pity. Of course, she can't be that closely related: her eyes don't change colour.

 

[Elf_Ariel]

Against my better judgement...

I lay here part one of Ariel's story. The other parts, are not typed as yet, not proofed, as yet, and not likely to be forthcoming. I did not write this succinctly enough for this thread or forum. Those who wish it, can contact me for the other parts as I type them up. Please take note, it is also part Avlantia's story. But keep in mind it is written from an 'Ariel' perspective.

I hope you enjoy.

Lee-Rae

Ariel, was not as you know her to be. She existed, in a place altogether different from those you have known; and for that, you gain the strange woman she has become.

Though to speak Ariel as her name and she reply, such was not always the way. Her birth-kenning was Kelariel Fortaur, Kelariel of the Northwoods. Such was her home, the northern woods of the northern-most forests of Emerith, a region known as Deylkal-bur. The first child, by a mere six minutes, to her younger sister Avlantia. It was strange, her home, cool to cold all year 'round. Amongst her hostar her father was cora. So into these strange ways she was brought, where the other tel'quessir nearby were more likely to be your enemies than friends. To hunt on their grounds was to invite death. And she was taught much of death at a young age. Her first kill was of her neighboring tribe at twenty-six. The girl was seducing the boy Ariel had eyes for. One night she caught them by the river; the next night she was dead, poisoned in her sleep. The boy fled, for everyone knew who had done it, but her father's stature lent her quite a few leniencies.

It was a strange childhood for the sisters, a third birth a day late leaving behind what one might name the out-cast. It was whispered in corners that the third child was not elven, for twins were rare, to have three, totally unheard of. These discrepancies didn't bother the girls, though they were all different. Ariel was perhaps the most introverted and yet she would be hostar one day as her father before her. When they were young it was hard to tell them apart, but each grew and Ariel became more sure of herself, her place. While Avlantia could naturally lead, and do well at it, Ariel studied hard, and learnt how to become what she was meant to be. The third sister watched these things, strange happenings, and felt left out. It was doubtful that both estanesse and minya would both fall. Her jealousy burned, for if any of the sisters had ambition it was the third.

Time passed, and the girls became women, Ariel took the lead from her father who was glad for the rest she had brought. There were many questions of course, about her leadership ability; many complaints about her hard fair rule...why could not the second have come first? But this was not to be. Such was not a peaceful time, the third-folk, or humans as we know them had come in their numbers, with their swords and armor for they had heard the riches that were held amongst the many elf tribes. At first it seemed but an inconvenience to Ariel, since there were many tribes left to fall before hers was in danger. She assumed the masses would tire eventually of their conquest and looting and return to their homes. But...humans are greedy. It came to be that many refugees came to her home, to her people. At first they were hunted from the lands, but they grew steadily in number and she realized that something must be done or not only her tribe but her people faced extinction. And so persuasively she gathered her allies and moved forth from her lands, gathering refugees as she passed among the lands of her people. Though she was doubted at first it was a great movement, larger by far than any other hostarrim had seen and when faced with her masses they could do little but agree to join her march or be crushed and sent into the dreaming ne'er to awake. For once, people rallied to her with sword and no small amount of heart. But there are always those who are sour, and still they questioned her leadership. It was at this time the third child went missing. With the travelling and the chaos of amassing her people she was gone. Ariel spared a group of ten, with her best tracker to find her...none of which were to return.

She faced her enemies at Gator's Crossing, known that way for the rocky canyon looked a lot like a row of sharp teeth. And she relentlessly pushed them back. A cunning tactician, with a sharp mind, the battles were one and lost by both sides. Less to her own, and more to her foes, she pushed them back. It was a daring move, that night, where she sent a decoy cross the bridge. Were it that the humans knew these lands they might have expected the elves to come pouring from the grounds behind the bridge-guards like ants. But they did not, and Ariel struck the blow into their very backs even as they stood their grounds. There is no mercy in war. There is no mercy in her. For that her people were glad.

So the hunt began, as she chased them down, knowing full well, to leave as it were now, that they would return. This she could not allow. Her people did not replenish the way the third-folk did. With her sister beside her, her parents behind her, they hunted to the very edge of the forests, to the very edge of 'their' lands. Many numbers fell, to rogue arrows, silent knives. Not uncommon was it, to find a whole troop ill and nigh at death, for her stealth seemed without limits...she poisoned their waters and foods. But at the ends of their lands, there was a sight to behold. Here, where the plains rolled without cover, stood a mass of darkness, a swirling entity of men in armor, a sea upon the rolling plains. She counted; the math natural to her, four to one is not good odds. But something strange happened...and returned with her scouts one night. To most, it was just a simple medallion. None knew that bound to her neck, and her sisters was one the same. Crafted on the back, "Amin caela lle seler'. " Once it was established which that the minya was not missing, a quiet darkness seemed to overcome Ariel. In these days she rested, tired, though many knew she walked at night, the shadows welcoming as she studied her foes, hunting for their weakness. After a week of study she was ready. The people saw the mass presented and doubted. After all she had done for them they doubted. But none dared defy her, though they knew not why she was ready to fight this battle. She did not tell them, there was no need for false hope.

It was the day before they were to fight, and Ariel was listening, she always listens. For the most part, while what she heard hurt, nothing was as great as this day. For words of her father and mother:

"Does she not see her folly?"

"No. She sees power now. We have made her hungry."

"Be it that Avlantia were in her stead, this would never have been the case..."

She was gone before she heard the last,

"Were it Avlantia, we would not have made it this far at all."

Bitter tears were shed, taken from blue eyes that grew steely and cold, washing the color away to leave but grey slate. As the sun set, they marched, and in those sounds of battle her orders reigned clear. And then...they were gone, both estanesse and minya disappeared with no trace.

* * *

Things to consider:

• Grey Company elven is used throughout.

• Article was proofed by Nichy, blame him for typos, mis communications, poor gramma etc etc!

• All this is OOC info, Ariel hasn't told anyone about it...ever. It's not something she speaks of. It's not something you should pry about.