|
Post by Tealraven on May 8, 2020 15:07:39 GMT -5
We were born in the valley, Of the dead and the wicked. That our father's father found, And it's where we laid him down The Story So Far...
The Elvhen kingdom of Arthenia and the human kingdom of Gryffon have hated each other for centuries. The elves are feared for their magical abilities and looked down upon for their pointed ears; for the priests of Gryffon teach that magic is as dangerous as it is powerful, and never to be trifled with. The humans are hated for their arrogance and warlike tendencies; over the years, Gryffon has grown wealthier and stronger at the expense of its own citizens, for it is ruled by a corrupt elite with a frightful prejudice for elves. It was only a matter of time before war broke out, consuming the land and devastating both kingdoms. Only did it come to an end when the leaders of both nations enacted a truce.
Now, the First Great War is but fifty years past, and the kingdoms are at peace for the first time in anyone's living memory. But old animosities die hard, and fear still runs rampant among the older generations in both kingdoms. Some were grateful for an end to the fighting, but many more disagreed with the truce. For them, the war is still fresh in their minds, and distrust is strong on both sides. Gryffon and Arthenia have managed to coexist uneasily for the last few decades, but tensions simmering just below the surface erupt when a group of Arthenian assassins stages a coup against the royal family of Gryffon, killing everybody but the youngest son, who escapes in secret with the help of a sympathetic assassin.
Once again, Arthenia and Gryffon are plunged into war, and a ragtag band of dissenters, too young to remember their grandfathers' old quarrel, may be the only ones who can track down the assassins, bring them to justice, and restore peace to the land.
We were born in the shadow, Of the crimes of our fathers. Blood was our inheritance, No we did not ask for this will you lead me?
-- the valley, the oh hello's
|
|
|
Post by Tealraven on May 8, 2020 15:08:06 GMT -5
Amber's Characters The Hesitant Assassin --
Levey Abelahn - 20 years old, elf assassin. Levey is on the tall side, standing around 5'10''. He's rather skinny and lanky, which leads him to looking a bit awkward. He has tan skin and dark, curly hair kept short and out of his face. Hazel eyes are on sharp features and will appear more green or brown depending on the lighting. - Bright, friendly, caring, nervous, worrisome, a bit snarky, compassionate, can be shy, brash, loyal, tries to be open-minded, easily flustered, and patient. The Reluctant Merchant --Kaethe "Kae" Haldis - 22 years old, human merchant. Kae is rather short, only standing around 5'3'' on a good day. She has light olive skin dusted with freckles and round features. Dark brown eyes are contrasted by golden hair that's kept short around her shoulders. - Silver-tongued, charming, grumpy, selfish/self preserving, prideful, cunning, intelligent, watchful, a bit vain, reckless, arrogant, clever, and focused. Against the War --Astra Nailo - 25 years old, half-elf ranger. Tall with a musclar build, Astra stands around 5'8''. She has dark skin scattered with various scars and long, white hair that reaches down to her upper back. It's usually kept in a braid. She has green eyes and pointed features due to her elf heritage. - Reserved, quiet, tends to keep to herself, observant, easily annoyed, independent, can be snappy, knowlegable, quick to learn, and resourceful. Teal's Characters The Royal Child --Finian "Fin" Clarel | human | male | 16 A little on the short side and easily overlooked, Finian stands at 5'7" with an otherwise unremarkable figure. Indeed, not much physically distinguishes him from any other human boy, except for perhaps his broad shoulders that he hasn't quite grown into yet. He is fair-skinned, light enough that he often looks flushed, with baby blue eyes and wavy golden hair. His elegant features and soft face makes him look a lot younger than he is, much to his chagrin and his family's amusement. His brow constantly furrowed, he usually looks perplexed or faintly concerned about something. Quiet, observant, empathetic, and analytical, he's sensitive to how others are feeling and usually has an uncanny judge of character. He likes to look at the world and see how all the pieces fit together, like one big puzzle. He's used to being babied by his family and overlooked in general by the public, so he can be a bit stubborn and defensive about doing things himself. However, he has little social experience and no 'street smarts' to speak of, and relies a little too heavily on reading books to learn about the world. His grandfather is Alexius, who was formerly king of Gryffon during the First Great War, but has since abdicated the throne to his only son, Arman. Arman married the daughter of one the most powerful noble families in Gryffon, Estelle Verchial, and together they had two sons, Florian and Finian. Arman's two sisters, Rhea and Felicity, also live at the palace with the royal family. Florian, at 20 years old, was about to inherit the throne on his 21st birthday, but he was suddenly and mysteriously assassinated along with the rest of the royal family of Gryffon. Finian is the only surviving member, unbeknownst to the rest of the country.
The Vengeful Assassin --
Tyranas Abelahn | elf | male | 27 Standing at 5'11", Tyranas is slender and athletic, with long legs and the lean physique of an ideal assassin. He possesses warm tan skin with bronze undertones and striking green eyes. His sharp jawline, pointed nose and even pointier ears gives him a somewhat severe appearance, intensified by his height, in spite of his youthful mess of dark curls. He also wears small diamond studs in both ears, and has an ornate tattoo of a dragon covering his left shoulder blade. He's skilled in hand to hand combat and free running, and his weapons of choice are dual blades. Bold, decisive, and charismatic, he has no trouble issuing orders and leading the charge. He's good at thinking on his feet and a natural improviser when a plan falls through, but is also very impulsive and unlikely to have a plan in the first place. Aggressively optimistic, he has a tendency to be too confident in himself and to leap into action without thinking first. He also has a very short fuse. However, he's very loyal and protective, and fiercely driven to overcome any obstacle in his path, especially if it puts his loved ones in danger. His younger brother is Levey, whom he frequently disagrees with, but is very protective of nonetheless.
|
|
|
Post by Tealraven on May 8, 2020 15:15:34 GMT -5
and here we are ~
|
|
|
Post by Amber on May 8, 2020 15:16:52 GMT -5
Yay. I'll get my characters up here soon.
|
|
|
Post by Tealraven on May 8, 2020 15:18:39 GMT -5
Ditto. I have some errands to run first, but I'll be available later this afternoon.
|
|
|
Post by Amber on May 8, 2020 15:28:55 GMT -5
Alrighty, I'll probably have my characters up by then.
|
|
|
Post by Amber on May 8, 2020 21:25:34 GMT -5
Here are my characters. Once Tyranas' description is up, I'll edit Levey's.
The Hesitant Assassian
Levey Abelahn - 20 years old, elf assassian. Is one the tall side standing around 5'10''. He's quite skinny and lanky, which can make him look a bit awkward. He has dark, curly hair kept short and out of his face.
- Bright, friendly, caring, nervous, worrisome, a bit snarky, indecisive at times, can be shy, brash, loyal, tries to be open-minded, easily flustered, and patient.
Aganist the War
Astra Nailo - 25 years old, half-elf ranger. Tall with a musclar build, Astra stands around 5'8''. She has dark skin scattered with various scars and long, white hair that reaches down to her upper back. It's usually kept in a braid. She has green eyes and pointed features due to her elf heritage.
- Reserved, quiet, tends to keep to herself, observant, easily annoyed, independent, can be snappy, knowlegable, quick to learn, and resourceful.
The Reluctant Merchant
Kaethe "Kae" Haldis - 22 years old, human merchant. Kae is rather short, only standing around 5'3'' on a good day. She has light olive skin dusted with freckles and round features. Dark brown eyes are contrasted by golden hair that's kept short around her shoulders.
- Silver-tongued, charming, grumpy, selfish/self preserving, prideful, cunning, intelligent, watchful, a bit vain, reckless, arrogant, clever, and focused.
|
|
|
Post by Tealraven on May 9, 2020 0:45:34 GMT -5
I got back later than expected, but Finian and Tyranas' physical descriptions are both up. I'll get their personalities finished tomorrow (:
|
|
|
Post by Amber on May 9, 2020 1:31:48 GMT -5
No worries! Also I edited Levey's thing a little bit, so here's the updated version.
Levey Abelahn - 20 years old, elf assassian. Levey is on the tall side, standing around 5'10''. He's rather skinny and lanky, which leads him to looking a bit awkward. He has tan skin and dark, curly hair kept short and out of his face. Hazel eyes are on sharp features and will appear more green or brown depending on the lighting.
- Bright, friendly, caring, nervous, worrisome, a bit snarky, compassionate, can be shy, brash, loyal, tries to be open-minded, easily flustered, and patient.
|
|
|
Post by Tealraven on May 9, 2020 13:12:34 GMT -5
Updated! Fin and Tyranas are also finished.
Should we start with the assassination just happening and Finian escaping?
|
|
|
Post by Amber on May 9, 2020 13:46:06 GMT -5
Thanks and sounds good!
Also I think that's a good place to start. Jumping right into the action is always fun.
|
|
|
Post by Tealraven on May 9, 2020 15:09:32 GMT -5
Awesome! I'll get a starter up shortly.
|
|
|
Post by Amber on May 9, 2020 15:26:44 GMT -5
Okay sounds good!
|
|
|
Post by Tealraven on May 9, 2020 16:24:10 GMT -5
Tyranas Abelahn | In the Royal Palace
"Good night, sweet prince," the assassin whispered, holding the sharp edge of his blade up to his victim's neck. The steel glinted wickedly in the half-light, reflecting the orange glow of the oil lamp set on the vanity. The heir apparent to the kingdom struggled uselessly under his strong grip. A flick of his wrist, a slight twist of the blade, and it was over. The eldest prince slumped to the bedroom floor, blood darkening his priceless imported rug. The elvhen man glared down at him in disgust.
"Really, Tyranas?" a voice hissed from behind him. "'Good night, sweet prince?' This is no time for theatrics!"
"No time for--" Tyrans turned to face his fellow assassin, who had slipped in behind him to cover their tracks; she was part of the 'clean-up crew,' as they liked to call it. He placed his hands on his hips and cocked his head at her, grinning roguishly. "Now is exactly the time! Tonight, we make history!" He held up his bloodied blade as though he'd pulled it from an enchanted stone and was thrusting it toward the heavens.
"He could've at least come up with a better line than that," grumbled another, poking his head in through the doorway. "So cliche." In spite of his serious tone of voice, the man's eyes were crinkled in a smile, though the lower half of his face was concealed in shadow. "Now come on, and keep your voices down. We don't want to wake--"
Suddenly, a piercing shriek split the air, making all three elves jump, then freeze in place.
"The servants," the third assassin finished with a sigh.
Tyranas shrugged as if they were in no imminent danger of being caught and beheaded. "Too late. You took care of the rest?"
The two assassins nodded. The former king had been easy - he was already old and quite frail. The king and queen: smothered in their sleep; the king's two sisters: cut down with a slit to the throat. The prince lay crumpled in a pool of his own blood behind them, and his younger brother was to be apprehended by Tyranas' own younger brother, Levey.
"And the others?" He queried.
"Already on their way out," answered the second assassin. "They didn't have time to clean up the scene, so, just try not to touch anything, alright? No bloody fingerprints--"
Tyranas held up a dismissive hand. "Yes, yes, leave nothing traceable behind. Let's round up the kid and ditch this place."
The others nodded and melted into the shadows. Tyranas would catch up with them later; in this line of work, it was every man for himself. They couldn't afford to hold up the entire operation to ensure everyone got out safely. Still, he was determined not to leave until he was sure his little brother had escaped. He split off from the group in the main hall, heading for other bedroom. They'd been planning this for months, and he had the entire layout of the castle mapped in his head. The royal bedrooms were up here, so the second prince couldn't be far away. "Levey!" He whisper-shouted, keeping his back to the wall as he sprinted silently down the corridor. "Lev! Time to am-scray!"
Lights were flickering on all over the palace as lanterns were lit. Their window for escape was closing rapidly. Dammit Lev, he thought desperately, blood rushing in his pointed ears. Where are you?
Finian Clarel | In his Bedroom
The youngest prince, and now the sole remaining heir to the throne of Gryffon, was hiding in a closet.
Which he was not entirely thrilled about, but what choice did he have? He should consider himself lucky; he'd been in the library at midnight, because he was always in the library, and when he couldn't sleep his first reaction was to find something to read to clear his mind and calm his nerves.
At some point, he had fallen asleep. The candle had burned down to a stub by the time he'd heard the footsteps. He'd startled awake, every muscle in his body tense, eyes widening as he struggled to adjust to the darkness. These footsteps were not the heavy patrolling ones of the palace guards - they were quick and light, as though somebody (or several somebodies) had just run by.
If he was smart, he would've stayed in the library. No thief or murderer would think to look for a prince in the library. But aside from cowering behind towering bookshelves, there was nowhere to hide. And he didn't like the idea of cowering in fear, anyway.
Not that it mattered now, of course. He'd made it safely to his room, but hadn't realized he was being followed. So he'd panicked and clambered into the closet, where he huddled now, panting from the adrenaline rush. In spite of his fear, he felt a spark of anger. The youngest member of the royal family, cowardly locking himself in a closet while his family was slaughtered around him; once the news got out, it would only confirm the rumors that the young prince was a spineless boy, an innocent child, who could never be trusted to run a kingdom.
The floorboards outside creaked, and Finian's heart nearly stopped. He pressed his ear to the closet door, listening intently, and when he heard nothing, peered through the crack to see who was there. He thought he caught a glimpse of a lithe shadow slinking along the wall... with pointed ears!?
Elves, he thought in a panic, in the palace. Arthenians. Here to kill us! In his alarm, he jerked away from the door, banging his head against the back of the closet by accident. In the quiet of his bedroom, the sound was louder than a dragon's roar. He stiffened, heart pounding. It was nothing, he thought fiercely at the unknown assassin. Just the old walls settling. Please don't investigate, DON'T INVESTIGATE... Was he going crazy, or were the footsteps getting closer?
|
|
|
Post by Amber on May 9, 2020 18:16:01 GMT -5
It was his first assassin mission. His first real assassin mission. And yet his stomach churned. Levey forced the feeling down. It only served to distract him and he couldn't afford to be distracted. An assassin wasn't supposed to have second thoughts or question their instincts. They were supposed to act without feeling. And yet, the unease persisted. Levey continued to ignore it, instead focusing on the task at hand. Tonight was supposed to be a final test of his training and skills before he was officially accepted. He wouldn't fail. He couldn't fail, otherwise it would lead to disappointment. Months of planning would be lost and he didn't want to be the cause of such a failure.
The halls were ghostly quiet, only the occasional muffled sounds of the other assassins offered any sign of life. They had gone further ahead leaving Levey to take care of any stragglers. He was ready to be an assassin, but the death of the royals would belong to the others. All except the youngest prince, that is. He would've been easy enough to take care of, which was the only reason the task was given to Levey. As he made his way through the vacant halls, a pair of servants walked out in front of him. They froze. Levey stared at them for a moment, wide-eyed. He was frozen too.
"Please, don't kill us," one of them begged. Her voice was barely above a whisper and her fear was undeniable. The assassin tightly gripped the hilt of his sword. He was supposed to kill the stragglers, they could complicate things. Hazel eyes unblinking, he stared at them for a moment as a tense silence filled the air. Levey quietly sighed and walked around them. He let them go. He could hear their frantic steps as they ran away, not to return. Guilt prickled at his chest, but was calmed by a wave of relief. They weren't the targets. The alarm has probably been raised anyway. The others will never know that I set them free and there were only two of them. Besides every-
A figure scurried ahead, carefully looking around the halls. Levery narrowed his eyes and stepped forward to study it. He quickly recognized the figure as the younger prince of Gryffon. Although the drawings he had seen lacked some details, it was certainly him. Levey stepped forward again and the target fled. He hadn't been spotted, he assumed as much at least. The young man bolted after the boy, letting the young prince stay ahead. After a mad dash through the castle, the assassin watched the prince run into a room. Levey paused and stared down the hall, grimacing. His bleak task would soon be complete.
Levey quietly entered the room. The floorboards beneath his feet creaking as he walked in. The bed looked undisturbed and the boy wasn't hiding behind the door. Maybe he-, a bang came from the closet. There. Levey approched and stared at the doors for a moment, reaching a shaky hand out. His stomach churned again and he froze. Levey drew in a sharp breath and forced the feeling down. Lurching forward, he threw open the doors and was greeted by the younger prince. He stared at the adolescent for a moment, locking eyes with him. The assassin gulped and reached for his dagger. He pulled it out and slowly brought it closer to the boy. It would be a quick, painless swipe. He would be dead in an instant just like the animals he had practiced with before. It was no different.
Levey twisted the weapon in his hand and pulled it back, ready to strike. His arm half-heartedly flew forward, only to come to a sudden stop. The assassin let out a shaky break and stepped back, lowering his blade. He couldn't do it. He couldn't bring himself to kill the prince. Before he had a chance to think of something, his brother's voice echoed through the halls and captured his attention. Levey looked between the young prince and the door. He repeated the motion a few times before sheathing his dagger. He stepped away, putting a finger to his lips to silence the boy as he slowly began to close the closet doors. Levey had failed his task and now he would have to face his brother.
|
|
|
Post by Tealraven on May 10, 2020 15:22:04 GMT -5
Finian Clarel | On the Run
The closet doors were yanked open, and Finian came face to face with his would-be murderer. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped open in a silent scream.
The assassin was not what he'd expected. The face was young, not much older than him, if he had to guess. He was much taller than Finian, and his dark eyes glinted with an emotion that the prince could not place. But he was, without question, an elf. There was no mistaking those pointed ears and that lithe, graceful frame.
The elf drew his blade, and Finian flinched reflexively. He tried to summon some helpful heroic rage so he could deftly knock the blade from the assassin's hand, like the protagonist in an adventure novel, but none came. His eyes followed the assassin's hand. Maybe he could outsmart him somehow and escape in secret, like a clever hero? No, that wouldn't work either. He was trapped with his back against the wall, quite literally. Overwhelmed with icy fear, Finian braced himself for the killing blow. At least make it quick.
But it never came. The assassin seemed to be hesitating, turning the blade over and over again in his hand. Then, they locked eyes again, and the assassin put a finger to his lips and slowly backed away. There was another voice nearby, one Finian didn't recognize. The elf looked around furtively, then sheathed his blade and ducked out the bedroom door.
Finian shrank into himself, sitting with his arms wrapped around his legs. He waited for the noises outside to subside and the voices to fade away. He waited for his hands to stop shaking. He waited for someone to come looking for him, but no one did. Of course they wouldn't. The guards would come running to his parents' bedroom first, and then they would search for Florian, who was next in the line of succession. The kingdom would mourn the loss of the youngest prince for a few days, and then they would move on to more important matters, like finding the next heir.
Truthfully, Finian had no idea if any of his family members had survived. He couldn't believe the assassin had only come for him - he wasn't important enough. Whatever fate had befallen the royal family, he couldn't stay here. If it was true - if it was possible he was the only survivor - then he had to flee, for Gryffon's sake.
He tiptoed out of the closet, keeping one eye on the door. He dressed himself in the plainest clothes he had, which still made him look like a noble, so he untucked his shirt and ran his fingers through his hair to give himself a more unkempt appearance. He grabbed enough coin to pay for a meal, maybe lodging, and reached into the drawer of his nightstand for the knife he kept there for emergencies. He could never imagine himself using it on anyone, but just in case...
He slipped out the door, looked both ways, and made for the family's secret escape route from the palace as quickly and quietly as he could.
Tyranas Abelahn | Escaping the Palace
The door to Tyranas' left opened suddenly, almost hitting his elbow, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. He drew his dagger, ready to slash the throat of the next unsuspecting servant girl, but instead found himself looking at an almost mirror image of himself. "Lev!" He grinned toothily, clapping his brother on the shoulder. "I was just looking for you. We've gotta bounce, okay?"
He sheathed his dagger, and motioning to Levey, vanished into the shadows. "The others got back out the way we came in, but I'm sure that exit's blocked off now," he explained breathlessly as they reached the stairs. He slid down the banister and hit the floor running, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Levey was still behind him.
The young assassin was doing remarkably well for his first mission, Tyranas thought. Levey was a bright young man, but he'd always seemed so nervous. Sometimes, Tyranas doubted whether his brilliant, compassionate younger brother was cut out for the job, but now he felt a blossom of pride blooming in his chest as they sprinted through the dark halls, shouts echoing off the walls behind them as the palace awoke.
"This way," he said once they'd reached the ground floor, nodding to a battered old door just ahead of them. It had probably been flung open by a panicked servant and left ajar in the ensuing chaos. "Servants' quarters. This is where they take leftovers from the royal family's dinner down to the stables for slop." Tyranas felt a flash of white-hot anger at the idea of the royals gorging themselves on the finest food in the kingdom, leaving plenty on their plate to be thrown to the pigs when there were beggars and orphans starving on the lower streets of Gryffon.
He let Levey go ahead of him, then shut the door behind him. A long stone tunnel sloped down in front of them, the walls dimly lit by flickering sconces. "We can get out this way, if you don't mind getting a little muddy." He sprang down the hall, only stopping to catch his breath once he was sure they'd put enough distance between themselves and the palace. "Can't be much farther now," he panted after awhile, glancing at Levey. "Nice work, kid." But the younger assassin had been very quiet, and seemed to be avoiding his eyes. Tyranas felt a familiar pinch of doubt mixed with guilt. "Er... you did kill the prince, right?"
|
|
|
Post by Amber on May 10, 2020 20:36:37 GMT -5
Levey, the hesitant assassin
The young assassin nearly burst from the room, his heart thundering in his chest and shame flooding him. He failed his task. He failed as an assassin. Most importantly, he failed his brother. Before he could begin his escape, a flash appeared ahead. Levey jumped back and reached for his dagger, only to find himself face to face with his brother. Tyranas greeted him with a grin and friendly slap on the back.
"Nas! I'm glad to see you're okay." He managed to keep his voice from shaking, though wasn't sure if it was enough to avoid raising his brother's suspicions. Tyranas was no fool. If Levey wasn't careful, his brother would realize something was up. The last prince was still alive and unharmed in the room behind him. Luckily for the both of them, there was no time to hang around. The pair sunk into the shadows, now on their own to escape the palace. Levey took a final glance towards the room that held the remaining royal. The boy was on his own. The assassin's attention turned back to the elf ahead of him. He gave a simple nod and followed. He didn't want to talk.
As they rushed through the empty halls, it seemed the castle was coming back to life. He could hear people shouting, panic seeming to set in. His brother's command distracted Levey from the ensuing chaos. Wordlessly, he contiuned to follow. They were now on the lowest floor of the keep. It was unlikely anyone would discover the pair, after all there were more pressing things for them to worry about. Tyranas mentioned it was the servant's quarters. Levey took a moment to examine the space. Unlike the lavish and ornate halls, rooms, and decore in the rest of the keep, the rooms had plain walls and old furniture. The hazel-eyed elf glanced at his brother for a moment. Tyranas didn't hide his anger and disgust of the place.
After a moment, the older elf motioned for his brother to go ahead. Levey gave a small nod as he entered into a passageway, the door quickly closed behind them. It was cool and somehow darker than the castle itself. Levey nodded again, still holding his tongue for the time being. He followed Tyranas down the hall, keeping his mind on escaping. His heart contiuned to pound. All the running didn't help to calm his nerves, in fact it only served to make him more uneasy.
Once they were far enough away, Tyranas came to a stop. He complimented Levey for his work, who only hummed back in reply. He didn't deserve the compliment. The prince was still alive in his closet, frightened and hiding. The mission was incomplete. There was silence for a moment, then his brother questioned the prince's fate. Levey's heart stopped. His brother caught on that something was wrong. Of course he did, Tyranas wasn't an idiot! The assassian breathed in for a moment in an attempt to calm himself. He wasn't sure if it helped or not. Finally, Levey glanced at his brother and offered a small smile, nodding.
"Yeah, I did it. It wasn't as diffcult as I thought it would be," he replied quietly. Guilt prickled at his chest, but Levey forced it down. He would have to worry about that later, after they had gotten to safety. Looking down the dim tunnel, he gestered towards it.
"We're almost out, right? Let's go before we get caught." The assassin contiuned on before his brother could reply. He wasn't ready to have that conversation. Not yet.
|
|
|
Post by Tealraven on May 12, 2020 14:42:15 GMT -5
( I'm mentally exhausted atm - lot of projects going on at once - so my reply might be a little delayed. My apologies ^^ )
|
|
|
Post by Amber on May 12, 2020 14:54:30 GMT -5
(Don't worry about it! I know that it's the end of the semester for many, myself included, and even if that's not the case for you it's not fair to force a reply if you're overwhelmed/busy. Anyway, take your time and hope you don't get stressed out.
Also the title is very cool.)
|
|
|
Post by Tealraven on May 12, 2020 17:16:08 GMT -5
( I appreciate that. Still, I like to give a heads-up if I know I'm going to be busy so I don't keep people waiting/wondering if I fell off the planet or something lol.
and thanks! I thought the song fit the plot pretty well haha ^^ the other title was more of a placeholder. )
|
|
|
Post by Amber on May 12, 2020 18:00:01 GMT -5
(Yeah I get it. It can be concerning/confusing/rude/etc. if left without an answer or wondering what could be up.
You're welcome! It definently fits with our ideas and such~)
|
|
|
Post by Tealraven on May 17, 2020 20:47:51 GMT -5
( I do have my response typed up already, by the way - I just haven't gotten around to posting it yet. I just had midterms last week and I've been preparing for an exam on the 20th, so that's where my brain has been.
Getting to exercise my creative writing muscle has been a decent break from all this academic writing though! So I'll try to post my reply soon. Hope you're staying sane what with the end of your semester coming and all that ^^ )
|
|
|
Post by Amber on May 17, 2020 21:20:53 GMT -5
(Alright, sounds good and no worries. Had my finals this past week, so I definently get it. Good luck with your test in a few days!
That's good at least! Taking a break from whatever school work is always great. Also sounds good, take your time with it~ Thanks! I took my last final Wednesday, so I'm done with school until the fall semester. Not sure how sane I was at the end there, but I'm glad to be done for the time being.
I also wanted to apologize because I realized I was spelling assassin wrong this entier time (as in a few years this entier time). In my defense I am very dyslexic, but yeah that was a fun realization.)
|
|
|
Post by Tealraven on May 22, 2020 21:25:10 GMT -5
Tyranas Abelahn | On the Run
Tyranas felt the faint nausea in his belly dissipate along with his doubt, though his chest still felt tight from running frantically through the darkened halls. He inhaled deeply and sighed, as much in relief as to catch his breath. "Good work, man. I knew you could do it." He reached out a hand and ruffled Levey's hair affectionately. "My little bro, all grown-up and off to destroy people!" He pressed a hand to his chest and pretended to wipe a tear from his eye, sniffling.
Completely missing Levey's anxiously dodging the question - for Tyranas was not, admittedly, the most observant person - he allowed him to change the subject. "Yeah, the exit should be just up ahead. I think. If we took the right passage." He squinted through the gloom, wishing he had a lantern to light their way. The flickering sconces on the walls threw distorted shadows across the stone floor, creating the illusion that they were being followed by flighty beings of solid darkness. If Tyranas stretched both arms out horizontally, his fingertips would brush the sides of the tunnel. If they were unlucky enough to run into anybody, they'd have no advance warning and very little room to fight.
Fortunately, the ground soon leveled out and widened. Tyranas fumbled forward in the darkness with outstretched hands until he brushed against a door handle. "Aha!" The door swung open to allow cold starlight to flood in. They'd picked a moonless night for the assassination, so there would be plenty of shadows to hide in should they need to.
The tall elf strode confidently through the stable and vaulted over the fence. He was turning to say something to Levey when a sudden noise clanged loudly and repeatedly in the distance. It was a warning bell, its peals echoing through the silent night. The servants had raised the alarm, and it was only a matter of time before palace guards started streaming out into the streets to search for them. "Ah, shit," Tyranas muttered eloquently, grabbing the younger elf's arm. "RUN!"
And they did. To where, he didn't know; careful planning was not exactly Tyranas' field of expertise, but he did know that they needed to escape the city and get back across the border as soon as possible.
Finian Clarel | Somewhere in The City
Straining from the effort, teeth clenched, Finian hauled himself unceremoniously from the well and tumbled forward onto the cobblestone, scraping his palms. He sat up quickly, panting, his heart still pumping with adrenaline. He'd made it. He'd actually made his daring escape! Like a real hero in an action story!
Well, except for the fact that he was running away from the danger instead of facing it. But there was no shame in living to fight another day, surely. He gripped the knife in his hand so tightly he nearly cut himself. Not that I know anything about fighting, he thought, advancing cautiously down the deserted alley.
The secret escape route had led him underground and to an old, unused well with a sliding wooden panel for a false bottom. He knew of the escape route's existence, but had never had to use it. He hadn't been entirely sure where it would take him. But from what he could gather, he seemed to be in one of the poorer districts of Gryffon. The street here was ancient stone, not smooth pavement, and the houses were all crowded dangerously close together. If one caught fire, the whole street would go up in flames in minutes.
Finian rarely left the palace, and when he did, he was usually accompanied by a chaperone. He'd never gone farther than the Market District, and thus had no real idea of the squalor some of his subjects lived in. He wrinkled his nose and jumped back as a rat scurried across his polished shoe. No, he honestly had no idea how to navigate the narrow alleys of the slums, nor did he know where, exactly, he was.
Maybe I could ask someone for directions? If he could make it to the Market District, he might be able to find someone who knew their way around the city - a farmer come into town to sell his goods from the countryside? No, a rural bumpkin wouldn't have the street smarts Finian so sorely needed. A traveling merchant, perhaps? Yes, that would have to do. He squared his shoulders and made his way down the alley, hoping he was headed in the right direction.
|
|
|
Post by Tealraven on May 22, 2020 21:28:24 GMT -5
( There we go! Back in business. My replies should be more consistent now.
And congrats on the final! I can only imagine the relief you must be feeling to have that over with. My semester doesn't end until mid-June, so I have a ways to go yet. )
|
|
|
Post by Amber on May 22, 2020 22:09:29 GMT -5
(Awesome! Also how did your test go?
Thanks! Passed the test and class and I'm just happy to be done for now. Good thing June'a around the corner, so you're almost done too.
I'll either get something up tonight or early tomorrow depending on how things go.)
|
|
|
Post by Tealraven on May 22, 2020 23:50:55 GMT -5
( I felt reasonably confident doing it, though I do get pretty bad test anxiety. But I won’t get my scores until mid July anyway. I’ll probably have forgotten about it by then and have a small heart attack when it shows up in the mail lol.
That’s great! Take all the time you need. Sounds like you’ve earned it ^^ )
|
|
|
Post by Amber on May 23, 2020 13:24:16 GMT -5
(Yeah test anexity is the worst, but having confidence about it is great! Mid-July does sound like a while, but at least it's no latee than that. Good luck with all that when the time comes.
Alright, I'm about halfway done with my reply and I should get it up within the next hour or so.)
|
|
|
Post by Amber on May 23, 2020 14:05:13 GMT -5
Levey, the hesitant assassian The younger elf offered a small nod to the praise and ducked slightly as Tyranas messed with his hair. The older elf eventually pulled his hand away and dramatically made his pride clear. Levey cracked a smile at his brother's display. Tyranas always had a knack for the theatrics. The brief moment of peace didn't last long until the pair were off again. By the sound of it, they were nearly free. That was assuming they had even gone the right way, of course. For all his efforts, Tyranas was scattered brain at times and didn't always think things through. Levey could only hope that wasn't the case as they journeyed through the dim tunnel. The last thing they needed was to get caught and executed.
As Levey silently trailed after the other assassin, the unusual shadows made his skin crawl. The narrow passage didn't help either. Perhaps that was by design to ward off any intruders or maybe that was simply how the tunnels were built. The young elf couldn't be sure and instead decided not to dwell on it. The passage soon widened and the door was quickly found. Tyranas managed to force it open and a rush of air come through. It was warmer than the air in the tunnels, something Levey found himself grateful for. The young assassin followed his brother out into the dark night, the pair undetected as they made their escape.
Despite the lack of light, Levey could see his brother moving ahead through the stable and then clearing the fence. He contiuned to follow, climbing over the fence and reaching some sort of safety. They had done it. For the most part, the royal family was dead and they didn't get caught! Instead of feeling a sense pride or excitment, his stomach churned again. Undeniable guilt tugged at his chest as the realization fo what they did dawned on him. They had started a war.
Ding
The clanging of a bell made Levey jump. The alarm had finally been raised, and both he and Tyranas were practically sitting ducks. His brother cursed before grabbing Levey's arm and shouting the order to run. The elf didn't need to be asked twice as he bolted alongside the older assassin. Through the dim, winding streets the pair managed to avoid running into anyone. It seemed no one knew they were even there. As people began to awaken from the noise, it would prove diffcult to remain unseen. A pair of elves would look suspicious, but if there was only one... Levey had a plan.
Once they were far enough from the castle, the young man pulled his brother into a small alcove to catch his breath. They couldn't run forever, but also had to escape quickly. After a moment, he finally spoke. "Maybe we should split up and meet at the edge of the forest. It would probably be less suspicious if we seprated. I mean, there's already so few of our people around and humans are suspicious if we're in groups or pairs. If we split up, it might be easier to blend in." Levey wasn't sure if Tyranas would agree to the plan, but it was certinaly worth a shot.
Kaethe, the reluctant merchant The market was largely empty. Most vendors had already locked up their goods and went in for the night. Some had gone in early to prepare for the next day while others celebrated their earnings with a drink. Only a few stragglers remained, Kaethe among them as she packed for the start of her trip the next morning. The merchant's guild would be proud. Having been in the market for nearly two weeks, the young woman had aimed big in her sales. Of course she did, she had people to impress after all.
While some people sold exotic spices or provided expensive cloths, Kaethe had decided to sell jewelry and other small trinkets. In the hands of most vendors, they were usually tough items to sell. Fortunately, Kaethe had just the right amount of charm and knowhow to get most of her goods sold. She hadn't expected to sell everything, that would've simply been unrealistic. But enough was gone for the other merchants to acknowledge her accomplishments. That was good enough for her. She had proven herself to be quite the saleswoman. Within a few days, she would be back at the main base of operations and rewarded for her successful endeavor. Until then, she had the journey home to look forward to.
As she finished her packing, the quiet night was suddenly awakened by alarm bells chiming from the castle. Kaethe paused her activities and glanced towards the source of the noise, frowning. That can't be good. From the windows in the buildings surrounding the streets, she could see a few lights flicker to life. It had started to draw everyone's attention. For the next few minutes, the ringing echoed through the deserted streets as Kaethe finished packing. As she locked the last of her goods away, she could hear shuffling from one of the sudde strets. Kaethe turned and looked with narrowed eyes, slowly reaching for her knife. She took a careful step forward, keeping aware of her surrondings.
"Hey, I know you're out there and I have a knife! Come out now or I'll make you!" Her voice was laced with anger, but the threat was mostly empty. She was a merchant, not a soldier or a fighter. She barely knew how to use the weapon and mostly just had it for safety. Through tense brown eyes, she watched the ally for a moment. Perhaps it was just a stray animal wandering about, or maybe there was someone waiting to ambush her and steal whatever she had left. She didn't know what to expect and instead stood beside her cart.
|
|
|
Post by Tealraven on May 23, 2020 15:22:58 GMT -5
Tyranas Abelahn | On the Run
Just as he was getting his second wind, Tyranas' lungs began to burn again. His long legs carried him a short distance ahead of his brother, staying to one side of the winding street, ducking through midnight shadows. His sharp eyes scanned the neat houses and storefronts with flowers in their windows, searching for a branching side street or an alley they could slip into to throw off their pursuers. He'd only stopped for a moment to consider this when a hand wrapped around his wrist and tugged him into a hidden alcove.
"Lev, what--" he started to say, but faltered, shocked into silence by the intensity in the younger elf's eyes. He recognized that look. Levey had a plan. He listened attentively, though his gaze kept flicking to the street and back, his pointed ears alert for the sound of shouts and footsteps. He hated the idea of leaving Levey alone like this, on his first night as an assassin, and with an angry mob of armed guards after them, no less. But he had a good point; it seemed they had no other alternative.
There was a possibility that they could blend in if they made it as far as the city outskirts, where the poorer denizens of Gryffon dwelled. Elves and hybrids could sometimes be found there, banished from the heart of the city to where nobody would have to look at their impurity. But that wouldn't work, either. Levey and Tyranas were healthy and fit, their lean bodies rippling with muscle, unlike the scrawny urchins of their kind in Gryffon. They'd stand out like a sore thumb.
Tyranas sighed. "Fine." He looked away, frowning. "Fine. Just-- just don't die or anything. If I have to be the one who tells dad you didn't make it back, I'll kill you." He put a hand gently on his brother's shoulder, which was about as much physical affection as he was capable of showing, and inched toward the street. "Wait a few minutes after I'm gone, just to be safe." Then, looking both ways, he darted across the street, making for the rising city walls in the distance.
Finian Clarel | Market District
After what felt like hours of aimless wandering, the street Finian was following broadened into a square. During the day, it was usually packed with booths and food carts, vendors hawking their wares and coins jingling as money was exchanged. Lines of colorful pennant flags were strung up between buildings, fluttering cheerfully in the breeze. He had enjoyed coming here when he was little, peering behind counters to see what exotic goods the merchants had to offer, the strong aroma of spices and fried food enticing him further into the crowd. To a child, it had been a wonderland of fantastical oddities. He vividly remembered sitting on straw mats on the ground with other little noble boys and girls, listening to a man with a thick foreign accent spin tales of dragons and faraway lands.
But one day, when he was thirteen, he'd managed to escape his chaperone for a moment on the excuse that he needed to relieve himself. With nobody to shield his eyes and steer him away from the more unsavory parts of the market, he'd come upon bizarre animals pacing inside tiny, cramped cages. Beggars sitting on the corner, shaking a tin can of coins at shoppers or shuffling up to the food carts to barter for something to eat. But the vendors had refused to sell to ragamuffins and orphans, saying they were only interested in the coin of the wealthy upper class.
The Market District had seemed a lot less fanciful to him after that.
Come to think of it, he hadn't been here recently. And it looked very different at night. Finian proceeded nervously, clutching his knife in front of him, feeling very small indeed. Every noise he heard was a thief or an assassin, ready to jump out at him at a moment's notice. Perhaps if he hadn't been so jittery he wouldn't have knocked over the trash can. It hit the ground with a metallic clang and rolled away, sending a scruffy cat screeching down a side street. He tried to shuffle nonchalantly away, but it was too late.
An angry voice hailed him. Deciding that running would only make him look suspicious, he carefully edged forward, into a square of yellow light pouring from a nearby window. He held his hands above his head, but did not let go of his knife. "I'm here," he breathed. "And I'm armed, but I won't hurt you, if you don't hurt me." It wasn't a lie; he probably couldn't hurt her even if he tried.
|
|