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Post by Faljere D'ael Elderbaden on Oct 20, 2013 0:56:27 GMT -6
Two days.
Faljere had walked for two days, not stopping to rest his feet or have a drink. He had to return to the land which housed him for the months prior to the war. His legs were weary from the journey, and his mind wearier, as he had spent his whole time trying to recollect his memories in order to find out what he might be able to avoid in terms of previous relationships.
For starters, he'd have to stay as far away from the Monastery as possible, where his old friend Ieda was most likely waiting for his return. Before he'd left, he'd given her a river stone from Silv-Anir; the Pit, technically speaking. He had obtained it from working in the mines as a prisoner for nineteen years, and was a sign that he trusted her the most to hold his history-his past-in her hands. Had he returned, he'd have taken it back; had he not, he'd have left it to her to decide its use.
Even after he'd told her many times to forget him, she'd probably not have done it anyways. He'd killed a man before leaving, which he now knew was the right move to do: that man was at peace. However, at the time, he'd felt dishonoured for doing so and had left with her storming behind him angrily. "Well there you have it! A good man goes to war." Those were his last words to her in person. The rest were through letters, but eventually he stopped writing them, knowing she wouldn't forget if he didn't stop.
He finally arrived on the borders of the city, overlooking a large wall made of stone and steel. An impressively tall tower stuck right out from the ground, and on top of it he could see a robed figure perched on the very edge like a majestic eagle, watching over whatever was behind those walls.
Fort MacNiel. Faljere thought to himself. The Fort was another place he'd have to avoid, especially the Library that he'd founded and the Fort's owner; and old friend of his named Gavin MacNiel. If ever the lord had seen Faljere in the state he was in, he'd have a fit. Faljere wanted to keep quiet about his presence, and therefore didn't want to interact with old companions unless he felt it was time for their peace to come at last.
Standing on the brink, staring into the whirling chaos that was Wildgard, Faljere's cloak billowed in the sudden fall gale, his mask pressing up against his face.
Was he truly home?
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Idina Doc
Wildgardian
Could we start again, please?
Posts: 258 
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Post by Idina Doc on Oct 22, 2013 13:04:19 GMT -6
The human body needed sustenance in the form of water, food, and sleep. Thankfully for Idina, she had the foremost two with her - she'd brought plenty with her on her initial trek out to the ocean, although now her supply had dwindled significantly, even with all her prior experience in travel. On top of that, she was thoroughly exhausted. Not only were her legs much shorter than the stranger's, but even though she was used to spending as much time on the move as possible, she was still used o sleeping.
At this point, she was mainly being fueled by her determination to get this man to talk. Once she came out of the woods and once again saw the familiar walls of Fort MacNiel, something extra surged through the healer and gave her some proper energy.
He was standing not too far ahead of her, looking over Wildgard. She couldn't blame him: it was truly a sight to behold. His lingering told her that this view meant either an incredible amount to him, or none at all. She supposed the latter.
Here Idina decided to make her presence known to the stranger again. She took a few strides forward to place herself four paces to his left and one behind him. "So you did intend to come here," she said grimly, or as grimly as she could manage. A wary eye on his weapon, mentally preparing herself for whatever he'd do, she went on: "What are you planning now?"
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Post by Faljere D'ael Elderbaden on Oct 23, 2013 17:21:31 GMT -6
From behind him, Faljere heard the voice of a young girl far from home yet not caring in the slightest. The monk turned about, his cloak now billowing against his back, to see the girl Idina had followed him from the ocean to the borders of this small city. Her eyes were set straight on him, demanding he explain all about himself as they blazed furiously. Yet the monk could also tell she was hungry and tired from following him for two days; a fate she would have to burden. Would peace find her like this?
Faljere had indeed intended to come to this place, but even he didn't know why, as his mind simply told him this was the place to be. If the people were anything like this girl, they'd be in need of peace most definitely to come to them.
"I am here, and that is all you need to know." He said to the girl, turning his back to her as he made his way down the hill towards the large Fort. Perhaps here he could help others truly find peace.
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Idina Doc
Wildgardian
Could we start again, please?
Posts: 258
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Post by Idina Doc on Oct 23, 2013 19:12:07 GMT -6
This man was doing nothing but frustrating her, as though is was on purpose...! He began descending towards the Fort, and Idina's mind was a whirlwind. With a weapon that large on his back, and the readiness to use it that he'd displayed to her a few days ago... no, she would not, could not let him continue on like this! Not until he gave her answers! His being there was hardly all she needed to know: she needed to know how he intended to "attain peace", and it had better not involve that greatsword of his!
She reached forward to grab his cloak before he got out of reach, but his weapon was still a huge concern, and her hand shied away. She tried her voice. "Hey!" she squeaked, before trying again. "Hey! Stop!"
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Post by Faljere D'ael Elderbaden on Oct 25, 2013 8:34:16 GMT -6
From behind him, the girl kept squawking to get his attention, but the monk kept going, trying his best to ignore her. He'd given her all his answers, yet for some reason she still wasn't satisfied. Had she no inner peace?
That could have been a factor.
He slowly turned around, hand readied on his blade, to examine her. She was weary from the journey, yes, but also weary of the chaos of life. Weary from those around her. Yes, she was weary. Not at peace quite yet, and in no way could he help her this soon.
He removed his hand from his blade and continued walking until reaching the large doors of the Fort.
He was here...wherever 'here' was.
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Idina Doc
Wildgardian
Could we start again, please?
Posts: 258
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Post by Idina Doc on Oct 25, 2013 8:46:15 GMT -6
Idina could feel her ears burning with flush, from mixed anger and confusion. Bringing her hood up, she gripped her cloak tightly and strode over to the stranger, her feet stomping on the ground as she went. By the time he'd reached the gates of the Fort, she was taking two paces for every one of his to keep a constant speed behind him, just out of reach of his sword. She'd seen his hand reach for that blade, she knew he wanted to use it, but she wouldn't let him. Not on anyone.
The healer ran a few paces to put her into his field of vision. "You are not about to enter," she declared. "If you must enter, you will leave your weapon here; I WILL NOT allow you to harm anyone inside!"
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Post by Sarea Riel Dirao on Oct 25, 2013 22:28:33 GMT -6
The morning mist had covered Wildgard like a thick sheet, as it had been doing for the past few days. Elves of Northern Briton were accustomed to this weather; it meant winter was coming. In the clans, it meant gathering as much as they could for a hibernation-like winter, as Sarea knew very well.
Stepping outside the Inn, a gust of wind hit her, sending a chill up her spine. With a short skirt like hers and a shirt that didn't have sleeves, Sarea knew she'd freeze quickly when winter did come. I'll have to find some warmer clothes. Perhaps someone at the Fort's Market can help me out. She thought optimistically to herself as she looked over towards the Fort.
As an elf, Sarea had strong eyes that could see over great distances, which came in handy when looking wherever she was going to make sure she wouldn't be interrupting anyone or anything. This time, though, they didn't quite give her a view of anything Fort-related. Instead, she saw what appeared to be a familiar figure standing at the gate with Idina.
The figure wore a grey cloak with a hood pulled over the head, and a green plaid kilt-like garment around the waist. Most noticeable was the two-handed High-Elven greatsword on the back; a symbol of a powerful warrior and leader. Around the pommel was tied a red rose, aged yet not yet withered, and resting gently on the figure's shoulder. Sarea's mouth stretched into a smile, and her heart that she thought had turned to stone and deemed incapable of loving again began beating harder than it ever had. Somehow, she'd survived and was now here to find her.
"Jennis!" She cried out, her thin legs carrying her as fast as she could to the Fort's gate, and eventually into her lover's arms.
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Idina Doc
Wildgardian
Could we start again, please?
Posts: 258
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Post by Idina Doc on Oct 29, 2013 18:01:49 GMT -6
Her weariness had dulled most of her senses, and he concentration could only be on one thing at a time for now: Idina had not heard the cry behind her or the footsteps that had quickly approached. But a flash of red and a shock of blonde hair snapped her attention away from the stranger...
...and then right back to him.
"Sarea!" she screamed, more than a little panicked. "What are you doing here?!" Thinking on instinct, she reached forward to grab the elf and pull her out of harm's way; only once she'd made contact with another body did the alien quality it carried for her sink in, and she pulled back. "What are you doing?! Let go of her!" This was to the stranger. "You are not hurting her or anyone, not on my word!"
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Post by Faljere D'ael Elderbaden on Oct 30, 2013 16:31:22 GMT -6
From behind him, Faljere felt a squeeze around his torso by two light arms, followed by what he could only guess was a face being buried into his back, which was forcibly removed by the girl following him. When would he catch a break?
Perhaps this one was searching for peace, and fate was so generous to hand over a new peace-seeker to take care of. He removed his blade from his back and slowly turned around to bring it down upon the new person, but upon seeing her face, his hand was yet again stopped. There she stood, straight blonde locks of hair draped over her shoulders much like the red cloak she wore. Her knee-length black skirt flowed about in the wind, and on her arm, under her cloak, could be seen a ring of flowers. Faljere knew the girl, which is why he hated having stayed his own hand.
"I've seen your face before..." he muttered in an almost song-like tone. "Bard."
He shook away his thoughts and prepared to bring his blade down again, his true self coming through again to bring about calm in the world.
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Post by Sarea Riel Dirao on Nov 1, 2013 20:41:50 GMT -6
Sarea looked forwards in fear, a large and very frightening High-Elven blade from old Briton at her neck wielded by one she thought as her late lover Jennis Mul Moongem. The man was far from her indeed, with his lack of any top garb, a mask covering his nose and mouth, deep green eyes and strands of fair blonde hair in front of his face. He wore a knee-length kilt and a pair of rough fur boots and a wooden bead necklace.
She wouldn't have recognized him through her fear, but it was when his hand was stayed that she saw a small look of disappointment and self-loathing in his eyes; his all too familiar eyes.
"Do...do I know you?" She asked in a faint voice, as the man claimed to have seen her face before. His eyes were what threw her off; she knew she recognized him, but from where? Maybe Ellarhir Taur-Ielis, Prime Minister of Silv-Anir, however he was never this ruthless and cold, and always dressed more majestically than other Wood Elves of Briton. There weren't many other people she knew, especially ones that dressed like this, but the eyes were just too familiar. Finally, a sudden realisation came to her mind and her eyes widened in surprise when she figured out that the stranger wasn't so strange after all. Fear was replaced by shock and worry as she stepped back and dropped her wand.
"Faljere? Faljere D'ael Elderbaden?" She whispered.
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Idina Doc
Wildgardian
Could we start again, please?
Posts: 258
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Post by Idina Doc on Nov 21, 2013 21:45:30 GMT -6
Rushed fury ebbed away to confusion at two simple syllables: Faljere. Faljere, the good man with a heart too big for even his long wood elf frame. Faljere, one of the first Fort members to welcome her when she'd been a confused wanderer looking for a home. Faljere the booksman, Faljere the peace-lover, Faljere the monk, Faljere, Faljere... She'd left Wildgard for a few fortnights and had come back to find him - or rather, not find him - abroad as well. It had been ages since she'd heard his name even mentioned...
Was Idina supposed to believe that this man, this ruthless, dark, cold man like Winter itself, supposed to be him?
Impossible. Sarea had to be mistaken. No bright colours on his person; traded the heat of fire for the damp of soil, it seemed, if it could even be him. Hair that looked like someone had taken a sword to it and hacked it off in haste. Eyes like ice that encased a lake that, perhaps once, teemed with life. The height was similar, sure, but as far as she knew, all wood elves grew like this. It couldn't be him.
"Sarea, you do not seem well," she insisted. With a deep breath, she put both hands on the bard's shoulders and brought her out of harm's way: the stranger certainly wasn't moving, someone might as well. Once she was safe, her freckled hand moved to her cloak and grasped a corner of it. "We ought to get you inside and out of this chill. It is affecting me, too, I understand." With a tentative pull at Sarea's cloak, she looked once more over at the newcomer with a frozen stare of her own. Begone, her eyes said for her, or she hoped they did. Get out of here. Leave us be.
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Post by Sarea Riel Dirao on Nov 23, 2013 22:56:54 GMT -6
As Idina's freckled hand tugged on her cloak, Sarea tried to break free.
"That is Faljere!" She cried, half to her friend, half to her...well, her other friend. Faljere, the elf that had saved her life on her darkest day ever with a simple sentence. Faljere, the monk who'd shown her the value of life. Faljere, the man who'd introduced her to her future wife. Faljere, the friend who never gave up on her. This...thing in front of her wasn't Faljere; rather, he was a simple husk of his former self, wrapped in the bloodied garb of a Wood Elf warrior, wielding the blade of a berserking madman, his eyes glazed over and devoid of all life as if they belonged to a corpse. But he was Faljere nonetheless, and he was her friend.
Using all her excess strength bottled up inside her, the small bard broke free of Idina's grip and rushed towards the unsuspecting Wood Elf, her arms stretched out to give him a hug as tears welled up in her eyes.
"Faljere! I know it's you, I just know it. " She held onto him even tighter. "You saved me from jumping off that cliff: the darkest day in my life, where I never thought I would see the light, and you saved me. I can see it in your face, Faljere. Let me help you!"
The words themselves seemed to echoe long after she'd said them.
Let me help you.
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Idina Doc
Wildgardian
Could we start again, please?
Posts: 258
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Post by Idina Doc on Nov 24, 2013 15:07:16 GMT -6
Once again, Sarea threw herself at this stranger, and she seemed no less confused as to who the man was. /That can't be Fal.../ Idina thought, her cheeks tingling slightly with a blush of secondhand embarrassment. Clearly the bard meant every word she was saying, each word came from the deepest part of her spirit.
If the stranger were to lift his blade and strike someone in such a position, so completely at his mercy, then he should truly be the cruelest scum on the planet.
She held her tongue. No need to further any embarrassment Sarea might feel. She did not advance, or exactly retreat, but she faced the pair of them and shifted her weight between both legs; her long skirt concealed the fact that her back leg was bent and ready to leap forward should anything go awry.
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Post by Faljere D'ael Elderbaden on Nov 24, 2013 16:37:29 GMT -6
The monk clawed to get the elf girl off of him, but felt her grip was too desperate to even want to let go. He looked over at Idina, the girl who'd followed him from the shore, to see her embarrassed face redden.
Was this bard so clever as to figure him out? He didn't want to tell her, for his own sake. He was a changed man, one who saw the light of day instead of keeping safe in a fantasy dream world. The light was harsh at first, but it was peaceful and welcoming to those who accepted it. Faljere had found it, and stripped himself of all his worldly identifiers in order to help others find it. However, where others found peace, he did not, and those were the people he had to reluctantly let stay in the hell they were living in. Sarea, a girl who was twisted and shaken to the core from her harsh life...she knew long before him how to find peace, and he'd stopped her. In fact, he'd even helped her find someone to keep peace away from her completely, whom she eventually fell in love with. Was it too late to take it all back?
"No longer that name. I am without a clan. I am the Clanless." With a strong shove, he pushed Sarea off him and backed away, his lifeless eyes glaring at both girls, yet his hand remained away from his blade. "Leave me, Sarea. I have wronged you, and now you must live with that consequence." The elf then turned around and walked into the Fort al by himself, the guards to frightened and confused to do anything about his presence. "You can no longer find peace."
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