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Post by embermoon on Jul 23, 2006 9:43:11 GMT -5
No one may say what the future may hold, nor who may, on your journeys, cross your path and forever change your destiny. Or perhaps it is destiny that guides your steps and places others near you when you most need them.
Ember stands in the rebel camp before Lieutenant Doren, listening intently as he describes their plight, nodding with understanding and accepting that which she must attempt to save his men.
Colonel Kurzen…
That name rings in her mind. He must be found and reached somehow through the wall of insanity that surrounds him, else … be dealt with. He was causing too much damage to the rebel troops, killing and poisoning wherever he went. Perhaps she was not as quick as others to grow – she preferred a slow and steady approach – and feels, misguided perhaps, where others had failed this Colonel may respond to her more gentle methods.
Doren informs her that the Colonel’s compound lies to the east of their camp. She has never traveled through Stranglethorn Vale before, yet she strides off with confidence, quickly coming to the edge of the hills that border the compound. The way is treacherous where she attempts to cross over on the north side in order to avoid notice, her feet slipping on the loose stone. A small shower of stones cascade from her struggling passage and she melds when two of Kurzen’s men pass near her location.
“Did you hear somtin’?”
The man’s voice matches his body, short and thick, and his eyes scan the slope near him while he puts a hand to his partner’s chest bringing him to a stop. The other man only stands where he was stopped and shrugs. A mute perhaps? The two men stand still for a moment, the one searching the slope, the other absently picking at his nails.
“I don’ see nuttin’. There ain’t nuttin’ there. Heh, I won’ tell if’n you won’!” He bursts into a cackling laugh and slaps his partner on the back, urging him to continue.
Breathing a sigh of relief once the two men decide to pass on, she blesses Elune for giving her the forethought to leave Shakti back beyond the crest of the hill while she cased the compound. Her feline friend was quick to come to her defense and could not be faulted for courage, but she did not have the ability to become invisible. Easing herself from her precarious stance, she continues her way about the periphery of the compound. Certainly her route was made easier as she tracks the humans’ passage. She comes dangerously close to one of the outlying sentries, but manages to creep past him unseen.
With a cry of pain, she realizes her mistake too late as the claws of a Stanglethorn Tiger rake down her back.
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Post by Robbyn Jonathan on Jul 23, 2006 14:40:16 GMT -5
((could this be Ember's epic adventure beginning? Nice writing, and good choice in Kursen. Great story fodder there!))
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Post by embermoon on Jul 24, 2006 9:30:35 GMT -5
Cursing herself for not keeping an eye out for beasts, she whips out her longsword, its song matching that of the roar of the tiger, but her strength has never been in melee fighting. She swings at the cat, her blade biting deep into its flesh.
It is as if she has cut at herself when she suddenly feels the cold ache of steel piercing her side. She forces herself to take her gaze off the tiger, and turns her head to look behind her. The sentry! He must have heard the struggle and come to investigate, possibly thinking that she would be easily dispatched with a beast on one side and he on the other. Ember calls Shakti to her side with a sharp whistle, the brave cat leaping over the hill to take the sentry from behind.
Even with Shakti’s aid, it is a close battle and, the tiger finally dispatched, her strength waning, her arms shaking with the strain of lifting the longsword yet one more time, she manages to fend off the sentry’s attack and lands the blow that sends him reeling, his life pouring out of him as he fell.
Panting heavily, she lowers her blade until the tip digs into the ground. So much for not being noticed! Thankfully, she has almost finished her reconnaissance and knows there are no other sentries close by to have heard one of their comrades fall. Unfortunately, she has not spotted Kurzen. Perhaps Doren had been wrong and he was not in the compound at all? She bends down to wipe the blood from her blade on the robe of the fallen man, using the moment to gain control of her breathing.
Slipping the blade back in its sheath, she straightens and glances about. This question of Kurzen’s whereabouts needs answering and over to her left is a likely candidate who could answer it for her. She reaches into her pack and pulls out a length of cord, proceeding to then tie one end about the base of a barbed arrow.
Taking careful aim, the arrow flies towards her unwary, solitary target, piercing him through the soft flesh just below the clavicle. She yanks backwards on the rope as he cries out from sudden pain, the barbed arrowhead catching on the bone and he falls roughly to the ground onto his back.
“Shakti, if you would not mind…”
Shakti obediently pads over to the man writhing on the ground, growls menacingly at him, then heavily lowers herself upon his chest, her considerable weight effectively pinning him where he lay. Ember casually walks forward, her hips swaying, making certain the man can see her approach. His eyes frantically dart between her and Shakti until they settle on the great teeth of the cat.
Kneeling beside the panicked man, she calmly brushes a few hairs from his face.
“Do not mind her. She does not bite … much.” She softly runs her fingertip along his jaw, speaking in a low sultry voice. “I have a question and you have the answer. Answer truthfully and my feline friend shall not rip your face off. Are we understood?”
His eyes riveted to Shakti, he nods slowly. “Y-yes lady, p-please. I’ll answer as b-best I may.”
“That is well, for I would hate to see a pretty face like yours destroyed by a careless answer.” She quickly snaps the head from the arrow and roughly pulls the shaft free from his body. “Where is Colonel Kurzen?”
The man shudders and dares look over towards her. “The C-Colonel? You would not s-stand a chance against him, even if you c-could get past his guards. He …”
His speech is cut short as Ember presses the tip of a dagger beneath his chin. “This is not the answer I was seeking. Do not worry for my safety, although I am touched that you should care so. Just tell me where he can be found.”
Even pinned to the ground as his is by Shakti’s weight, he still tries to inch away from her blade. “H-he’s in the c-cave! But you’ll never m-make it.”
Bidding Shakti to release the man, she stands gracefully. “Thank you. Now, was that so difficult?” She smiles as the man scrambles to his feet and flees down the hill. She knows he will likely raise the alarm but it will not make much of a difference in her mind.
The cave. She had been able to sense the number of humans within as she had stood above it during her scouting. Far too many for her to take on alone before her moment with the sentry, and now even more so. Thankfully, Menshk was not too far away and could provide some welcome assistance if he agrees. She sends a call out for him and waits patiently for his response.
“How’s it going, Ember?” The voice crackles from her communicator, and she smiles.
Kellaminx Bladesong and she had been best friends for a long time. Even though Kella had been one of those quick studies and had far surpassed her in training at this point, Ember’s line had always been open to her. Many was the time they would be on other ends of the world, but still chatting about their various tasks, or the latest armour, … or men. Kella did not find men attractive and Ember had yet to find one to her liking, so laughing and joking about the foibles of men could occupy them for hours.
“Kella, my dear, it seems to be a far larger task than I had originally anticipated. I had this lovely chat with one of Kurzen’s fellows. I think you may have liked this one.”
“Oh? Did he have absolutely no spine?” The laughter in Kella’s voice rings through the communicator, but her response is partly obscured by another voice.
“Pretty lady?”
Ember ends her conversation with Kella to greet her guild friend and puts her request before him in as simple terms as she can, grinning at his response.
“Fight?! Menshk fight! And Boo help!”
Chuckling, she works her way back to the road, finding a spot on one of the fallen stone pillars to await his arrival.
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Post by embermoon on Jul 24, 2006 17:23:52 GMT -5
She has not been resting long. Shakti has only just left her for a short hunt when she feels the presence of someone nearby. Frowning slightly, she scans the area around her, at first seeing nothing until an Elven man steps out from around the hill next to her and stops.
She watches him curiously. A ruggedly handsome man, sporting a long pointed beard and sideburns, his hair caught up in the broad-brimmed hat pulled low over his eyes as if unused to the sun, with the broad shoulders typical of the males of her species. Yet, atypically, he does not stand there posturing, as most men would when they first see her. He stands calmly, his gaze cool upon her, measuring. For some odd reason, she finds herself blushing, hoping that she measures up. To what, she does not know, but her heart skips when he starts to walk towards where she sat.
He stops before her and bows formally. “Greetings. You are Embermoon, I presume?”
Her tongue feels fixed to the roof of her mouth. She nods mutely, but then she gets hold of herself, standing in order to greet him properly with a bow in return.
“Greetings and well met, sir. I am afraid you have me at a disadvantage as you know my name, yet I know not yours.”
“Forgive me, fair lady. I am Kurito. Kellaminx said you may be needing assistance and, since I am close by, thought I might lend some aid.”
She smiles at the mention of her friend. “Yes, Kella always likes to look out for me.”, but her mind is racing furiously. What should she do? Menshk is already on his way, the task in her mind does not really require more than two, and here before her is a complete stranger offering his aid. She does not want to be an imposition upon him, and yet she cannot bear the thought of turning him away. Inwardly, she shrugs. A few extra blades would not hurt and it justifies keeping him near.
So she briefs him on her task, outlaying her thoughts from her scouting foray. It does not take long, for he is quick to grasp the situation, asking questions about the lay of the land and the deployment of Kurzen’s men. They finish their discussion and an awkward silence falls between them. Ember cannot take her eyes from him, gazing from the corner of her eyes as she pretends to watch for Menshk while he … stands calmly beside her. She always feels awkward around people she does not know and usually says nothing to avoid appearing a fool. She sighs quietly and starts when he shifts and tilts his head as if he had heard.
Blessedly, Menshk appears at that moment with Boo trailing along behind him, and she is relieved to break the silence with introductions.
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Post by embermoon on Jul 26, 2006 10:26:39 GMT -5
Ember and Menshk lean against the ramshackle plank cabin waiting for Kurito. He had used his roguish talents, moving silently off, blending into his surroundings to gain a better sense of the numbers they might be up against, and had yet to return. It had been too easy getting into the centre of the compound and Ember is beginning to feel that the spineless sentry she had questioned has indeed raised the alarm. Most of the men have to be back by the cave, ready to defend the Colonel.
Menshk crouches down and starts to have a conversation with Boo and Ember smiles looking down. For all his simple ways, he is a good man and a brave warrior. She listens with half an ear to the one sided conversation, keeping the rest of her attention focused on watching for sentries and the return of Kurito.
“There must be at least twenty to thirty men inside that cave, maybe more. I did not want to leave you here too long, so I did not venture far inside.”
Ember’s heart leaps to her throat as Kurito suddenly appears beside her. Seeing her eyes go wide and her hand rise to her neck, he grins and casts a glance down at Menshk, who rises to his feet.
“Menshk, we will have a good fight ahead of us. Are you ready?”
“Menshk ready! Menshk fight! Fight bad men and keep pretty lady safe.”
Ember smiles crookedly at the two men and gathers her quiver, checking the fletchings of the shafts. Satisfied, she slings the quiver over her shoulder and tosses her head in the direction of the cave, encouraging her two companions to move out.
Kurito heads off immediately with Menshk close behind, coming quickly up to the first visible grouping of Kurzen’s men. The element of surprise is on their side when Kurito suddenly appears behind one of the men, incapacitating him with a sharp jab in the back. Menshk dashes up to another, knocking him senseless to the ground.
Ember breathes deeply, clearing her mind as she draws an arrow with a smooth practiced motion, her great bow held firmly in her hand, visualizing the flight of the arrow even before it is loosed. She is one with her bow, with the arrow, with her target, only taking a fraction of a second to fix her sightline before pulling back and letting fly. Arrow after arrow flies from her bow finding marks on chests, necks, and groins, dropping her targets to become easy pickings for her two blade-wielding companions.
Systematically they work their way through the cave, indicating with head movements and hand gestures who will be their next mark. With the three of them working in concert, they move quickly and silently, bringing swift death to those of Kurzen’s men who get in their way.
A few manage to deal out some damage before they die and the three of them take a moment to regroup, applying first aid where needed. Ember is the least hurt since the two men managed to keep the targets occupied; only needing a drink to moisten her parched throat. Menshk appears to only have surface scratches which he hastily washes with water and moves off a little way, peering around the next bend. However, one of Kurito’s bracers is shattered showing an angry gash up his arm. Ember reaches over to help him apply a poultice to the wound, first cleaning it with some alcohol before applying the medicated cloth. He winces slightly but shrugs off her concern, telling her quietly that he has suffered worse.
Rising as one, Ember and Kurito join Menshk and she taps him lightly on the shoulder to tell him they are ready. He nods once and moves out, leading the way into a vast chamber lined with practice dummies and archery targets. At least eight men are gathered in this room, some sparring in pairs, others training on the targets under the watchful eye of an instructor. Bidding Kurito and Menshk to wait a moment, Ember nocks two arrows together and takes careful aim at the closest pair. Her shot is true and catches each man in the chest, but they have not bit deeply and, with grunts of anger and pain, the two men turn from each other, running madly towards her. Kurito heads one off while Menshk intercepts the other, allowing Ember to continue her barrage of arrows. The two men fall, crying out with fear as death descends upon them. Eyes rolling in their sockets, they fall lifeless to the ground. Kurito watches them fall dispassionately then glances over in Ember’s direction, a hint of respect in his mien.
Using this method, they quickly pull off another pair, cutting them down swiftly and then pull another. But luck does not stay with them. As Ember’s shot hit the third pair, they run screaming towards her, catching the attention of the final pair who come running, seeing their comrades under attack. Already wounded, the first two men do not last long, but Kurito and Menshk are sore pressed with four of Kurzen’s men attacking. Blades flashing and stabbing, bodies weaving as they deflect blow after blow, the two men fight the four until the first two enemy fall, and then a third. The last man, watching his partner fall, panics, drops his sword and flees.
The two men stand side by side amongst the dead and dying, chests heaving.
“Good fight. Menshk like.”
“We must move”, Kurito quietly states. “That man will surely bring more.”
“He will not have gotten far.” Ember replies. “My last shot should drain whatever life he has within him left.”
Sure enough, as they crest a rise in the passage where he ran, they find his body sprawled face down in the dirt, an arrow jutting out from his back. Mens voices can be heard further down the passage and light flickers against the stalactites eerily.
Moving cautiously forward, the next chamber they come to is larger than the one they just left, crates of stolen goods scattered haphazardly about behind a rude wooden table. A globe, a few tattered books, and a map sit on the table. A large burly man hunches over the map as four men look on.
The man behind the table glances up at their arrival. “Colonel Kurzen?” Ember begins to ask, but her voice dries up as his eyes light upon hers. These are not the eyes of a sane man, and whatever thoughts she may have entertained about convincing him of his errors vanish under that gaze. For a moment their eyes are locked on each other until he raises his arm, pointing at them.
“Kill them.”
His voice is cold and lifeless, his command showing contempt and a bitter tiredness, relegating them to a mere nuisance. The guards leap instantly, swiftly pulling out their blades and advancing towards them. Kurito shifts on his feet to gain his fighting balance, his hands gripping his blades firmly. Menshk steps forward threateningly, lifting his weapons which glint in the light. As Ember begins to pull an arrow from her quiver, the four men yell ferociously, charging quickly towards them.
Changing her tactic in mid pull, Ember sends a concussive shot at the furthest attacker, dazing him for a few moments. She knows he will be coming for her before too long, but at least this gives Menshk and Kurito a chance to take care of the other three. She smoothly sends a few more shots out at the charging men before the one recovers and comes tearing at her.
“Fools!” she hears Kurzen swear, and has only an instant to see him leap over the table and come running before her vision is filled with the unkempt visage of her attacker. She reaches over her shoulder frantically to pull out her longsword, swinging at her assailant with all her strength. Her blade tip bites into his flesh and he grunts, but it does not slow his advance. The man is quick and moves in closely to bring his shortsword to advantage, forcing her to back up against the wall of the cavern. Suddenly his eyes bulge and his jaw drops in surprise, blood frothing over his lips before he falls to the ground, showing Kurito, blood sprayed across his chest, a short dagger in his fist covered with the blood of the man he just killed. Running his gaze over her quickly, he turns back to help Menshk in his solitary battle with the Colonel. Recovering her bow, the three of them fall upon the Colonel, dispatching him efficiently and stand, panting for breath, over their final victim.
Menshk swings his blade down sharply, cleanly severing the head from the corpse. Wrapping it quickly in a bundle, the three companions wearily exit the cave and the compound.
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Post by embermoon on Jul 28, 2006 10:55:40 GMT -5
After finishing her duty for the rebels, she, Menshk and Kurito stop at the road, exchanging weary words of thanks and appreciation of a job well done and then part ways. She sadly watches Kurito leave, his confident stride taking him further away from her, and then smacks her forehead for being such an idiot. What would he want with her? Besides, he has only just met her, so these feelings that are racing through her are just foolish fancy. She would never see him again in any case, so she might as well forget about him.
She carries the blood-stained package with her as she returns to the rebel camp to inform Doren of what had just transpired. He thanks her as he takes the package from her and presses a reward into her hands, but she shakes her head, trying to refuse. She only is doing her duty for the Alliance and no reward is ever necessary, but he will hear none of it and she is forced to accept. Tucking the coin into her purse, she turns for a final time from the camp and settles into an easy run. She has heard there is an inn at the end of the road in Booty Bay and hopes to rent some space there, but it is a long way and she must pace herself.
It has taken her the better part of the evening and the innkeeper is just about to retire for the night when she finally arrives, but he shows her grumpily to a cabin and mutters his way off to his own quarters. She shrugs off her packs, securing them in the small cubby built under the bunk. Pouring some heated water into a basin nearby, she spends a few moments washing the grime and dust from her face and hands, then decides that a sponge bath may not be out of order. Closing the door to her cabin quietly, she strips down to bathe. The warm water drips off her, gathering into a small puddle at her feet, which she quickly cleans up as she finishes. Walking over to the bunk, she lies down and closes her eyes but, as weary as she is, she cannot sleep. She looks over to the door as it creaks open, the light from the passage spilling into the room.
“May I come in?” Kella asks as she enters, closing the door behind her. “I flew over when I knew you'd be here. I’ve got some ale with me. Would you like some?” She sits on the other bunk taking a hearty pull from her mug not waiting for Ember to reply.
“No, thank you, Kella. You know I do not drink.” She sits up in the bed, holding the sheet up against her chest and they chat quietly, but she does not talk about any of the things on her mind. Still, Kella sitting close by is helping to ease her thoughts until she drifts off. She is vaguely aware of Kella tucking her in, brushing the hair from her brow and kissing her softly then whispering “Sleep well, my beautiful Ember” before sleep finally takes her.
When she wakes, it was well into the morning. The past day’s events have taken more of a toll upon her than she thought, and so she resolves to prove to herself and to Hemet Nesingwary that she is a good hunter. The dwarf had issued a challenge to her recently and now is as good a time as any to prove her worth.
And so she had spends the next few days hunting the beasts of Stranglethorn Vale, trying for more and more difficult animals as she progresses. Tigers, panthers, raptors, crocolisks; all fall to her bow and sword. She is showing a few more scars, it is true, but in the end she succeeds. Try as she might, however, she finally has to admit that she is trying to bury herself through hunting in order to forget.
But she could not. She cannot forget. Not forget the way his eyes danced when he looked at her, the way his face expressed every little thought, the way his body moved as he fought, the way his skin felt when she touched him. He smiles and dances in her mind and she longs to touch him again.
She rests her hands beside the crusted porthole of her rented cabin and stares out over the water of Booty Bay, watching as the waves reflect the reds and oranges of the setting sun. Sounds of drinkers and revelers waft up from the levels below, but she does not feel inclined to join them. Turning from the porthole, she reaches under the bunk and gathers her belongings from the cubby. As she reaches the main level, she tosses a few coins at the innkeeper to cover the cost of her stay and walks purposefully out of the inn towards the ramps leading up to the gryphon roost. Perhaps a change in locale will get that rogue out of her mind.
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Post by embermoon on Jul 31, 2006 9:23:23 GMT -5
She climbs the stairs up to the roost then stands patiently waiting for Gyll to finish with a customer. The dwarf ambles over towards her as the gryphon flies off, asking where she is bound.
“Feathermoon Stronghold, ultimately.”
“Well, I ken get ye to Menethil with Glythryn ‘ere. She’s got a good strong back. But ye’ll havteh catch a boat there and sail to Theremore Isle, eh lass? Once yer there, ye ken ask fer Baldruc. He can setcha up wit’ sommat to carry ye off to where ye wanna be.”
Ember nods, watching as he saddles the gryphon for her. She swings up easily and, paying Gyll for his pains, settles back for the gryphon’s flight. It leaps up effortlessly and Ember rocks back in the saddle, gripping the sides of the gryphon firmly between her thighs. The strong beats of the gryphon’s wings carry them off and Ember laughs into the wind. Oh, to soar! To fly! To be free! She looks down and chuckles. Everything seems so small from this height. She can never get over the incredible feeling when she flies. She lets herself relax and enjoys the long trip.
Morning is starting as the gryphon lands lightly at Menethil Harbour. Ember lifts herself by her hands to swing her leg over its rump, then drops down to the ground landing on both feet. Stretching her legs out, she strides purposefully over along the dock towards where a tall ship waits at berth, blinking to clear her eyes from dozing on the gryphon. A few sailors are coming down the gangplank to the dock and she stops one to ask the destination of the ship.
“She be sailin’ to Theramore, lass, an’ you best hop to it if’n you want passage as we’re jus’ aboot to cast off.”
She looks around quickly, noticing the other sailors already untying and coiling the ropes, so she thanks the sailor and scurries up on deck. Catching the eye of the captain, she presses a few coins into his hand for a bunk and heads below. There are not many passengers at this hour and few pay her any attention; those that do only glance up as she enters and then back to whatever they were doing before her arrival. Two dwarves are having a noisy and animated game of dice in the corner, casting accusations at each other for using weighted dice. She pauses for a moment, watching them, then changes her mind about leaving her packs unguarded and turns around.
As she walks back down the passage leading to the deck she feels the ship lurch beneath her. Ember hurries on deck and gasps. She had not felt them cast off and the ship was now cutting through the waters, her sails bellied out catching the wind, Menethil far behind them.
Ember loves the sea almost as much as she loves flying and quickly finds her sea legs, making her way over to the bow and leaning over the rail, catching some sea-spray on her hand as the waves crash against the ship. She sighs contentedly and relaxes, her body shifting with the roll of the ship, barely registering the call from her friend over the crash of the sea.
“Ember? Ember! Are you there?”
She reaches down and adjusts the volume on her communicator, thanking the gnomes yet again for their clever invention.
“Sorry Kella, yes, I am here”, she shouts into it. “How are you?”
“I’m hoping you’re making your way over to Darnassus. Tell me you’re coming to help me celebrate!”
The excitement in Kella’s voice is infectious and Ember finds herself laughing out loud. “Celebrate? Of course I will help! What are we celebrating?”
“I’ll tell you when you get here. Hurry!”
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Post by embermoon on Jul 31, 2006 9:31:37 GMT -5
Leaping from the hippogryph’s back onto the ground in Rut’Theran Village, Ember runs up to where she sees her friend waiting, grabbing her in a warm embrace. It feels good to be back in her homeland of Teldrassil, and even better to see her friend again. Kella’s shoulder length green hair is pulled back into a tail, a few strands falling loose, framing her face. The markings about her eyes crinkle as she smiles.
“Well?! I am dying from curiosity!” A grin spreads over Kella’s face and she starts walking quickly towards the portal to Darnassus, grabbing Ember’s hand and pulling her along.
“You’re wet!”
“It was raining in Auberdine and there is no protection on a hippogryph’s back. Do not change the subject!”
She loses contact with Kella momentarily while the portal shifts at their entry, depositing them in Darnassus. Kella quickly grasps her hand again, this time more gently, and resumes walking.
“I made a killing today on the market. You remember that rare sword I found? Somebody decided they wanted it badly enough to spend 180 gold!”
Ember is so shocked that she stops moving and it takes a few tugs from Kella to get her going again. So much money! She has never cared for material things, and never possessed more than 40 gold herself, so it is hard for her to imagine spending five times her life savings on a sword!
“Oh look!” Kella stops pulling on Ember’s hand but does not let go. “Aren’t they beautiful?”
Her friend has always known how much she likes cats; she has Shakti, a nightsabre, as a guardian, and her little brown Siamese, Scratches, can usually be found following her around. Kella had brought them to the hunter’s tree and Ember follows her gaze, noticing the packed, grassy earth where they keep the mounts – the huge cats bred and trained to be ridden. She sighs deeply. If she has ever longed for anything material, it is to own such a beast. She knew she was strong enough to control one now, her trainer had congratulated her on their last session not too long ago, but she did not have enough money to purchase one.
Ember releases Kella’s hand and walks up to a beautiful dark-speckled white saber. The cat’s eyes gleam brilliantly as it looks up calmly at her approach. She reaches a hand forward slowly until she touches the surprisingly soft fur of its ears. She gives it a tentative scratch then laughs as the cat tilts his head over for more, pushing at her hand strongly.
“Is that your favorite, Ember?”
Was this her favourite? What could Kella mean from that? She looks over quickly to where Kella stands next to Lelanai, the tiger handler and slowly shakes her head.
“Kella, you are not…”
Kella’s eyes dance as she replies, “No, I am not, because … I already have! He is yours, Ember. You deserve to have a mount and I want to get one for you.” Her voice softens as she looks into Ember’s eyes. “He is my gift to you.”
“But, Kella, you have given me so much already: food for Shakti, vast quantities of health and mana potions, armour that you were awarded or that you found and could easily have sold, almost everything I wear I owe to you, not to mention this sword that you painstakingly crafted for me. Do you know it is my most prized possession? I cherish this sword because you made it for me. I cannot let you spend your money on a mount…for me! Kella, I cannot accept this.”
“Please, my darling Ember. I want to do this for you. I always wanted to get something for you that would last forever and now I have the money to do it. I want to do it for you, Ember, because I care so much about you.”
She reaches down and picks up the reins of the saber, pressing them into Ember’s hands. Tears well in Ember’s eyes and she smiles tremulously, her fingers wrapping about the reins in her hand. She pats the great cat gently on his head then looks into her dear friend’s eyes.
“Kella, I know not what to say…”
“Then say nothing. Just celebrate with me a wonderful friendship that will never die.”
Kella takes Ember’s hand gently and leads her off to a small room where they sit, Kella pulling swigs of ale from her mug, Ember sipping at a hot cup of tea, talking, smiling and laughing until the night begins.
Ember takes her leave of Kella as night falls and the darkness has fully arrived by the time she lands at Feathermoon Stronghold. Her eyes glow strongly in the dark, a hint of blue within their glowing depths. She strokes the hippogryph’s feathers lightly by way of thanks for a safe flight and then walks with aching legs up to the innkeeper. Pulling her fingers through her waist-length wind-tousled hair, she asks for a bed for the night. It appears there is only one left - right along the path to the boat – but at this point she cares not and gratefully sinks down into the soft mattress, quickly falling into a deep sleep.
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Post by embermoon on Aug 1, 2006 19:07:04 GMT -5
The light pouring in through the open walls of the inn creeps over Ember as she sleeps. Her eyelids flutter and she rolls over, throwing her arms over her head. She has almost fallen back to sleep when she feels someone tapping her shoulder.
“Psst! Wake up, lady. Hey! Wake up!”
Groaning, she opens her eyes blearily and sits up, swinging her long legs over the edge of the bed. She puts a hand to her head as her vision blurs. What was wrong with her? Why was the world spinning? Did Kella…? Sighing, she squints at the young boy who crouches by her side, watching as she moves. She tries to ask him what he wants but all that comes out is a grunt.
“Mr. McGrubben wants to see you. You better hurry before he goes off to market.”
Rubbing at her eyes, she looks over to where the boy is pointing and nods slowly. Thanking him for his trouble, she stands up carefully and takes out a piece of tough jerky, chewing on it as she makes her way outside the inn. The jerky helps settle her and she rounds a corner, seeing a stocky human packing up a small leather satchel. He catches sight of her and stops for a moment, then resumes his packing.
“Ah, good. You are the newest leatherworker to arrive, yes? I could use your help and can teach you a few things too, if you have the patience to learn. Yes, yes, I know you elves like to go in for long introductions, but I don’t have time, don’t have time. Pratt McGrubbin’s my name and I have to get to the market to stock up my supplies before the day really gets going, so I must be off. If you’re interested, fetch me a few skins and when I get back I’ll show you what you can do with them, but I will need plenty skins for my customers, so you better get cracking. Chop, chop! I’ll see you when I get back, with masses of skins in your arms. Don't fail me!”
Bemused, Ember steps back hastily as Pratt brushes past her hurriedly, rushing over to the flight master and jumping into the saddle of a waiting hippogryph. She can hear him calling out to his mount “Flap you stupid bird, flap!” as he flies off.
Being new to Feathermoon, she does not know anyone, so she walks around slowly, trying to keep to herself as much as possible as she checks out her new surroundings. Entering the building across from the inn, she notices a man pacing across the back of the hall. He is muttering to himself, gesturing occasionally and shaking his head at his own words. Clearly he is in distress and would probably appreciate being left alone but, as Ember turns to go, he sees her and calls out for her to approach.
“My apologies, good sir, I did not mean to intrude.” She bows formally to him when she sees the chain about his neck. Ginro Hearthkindle is evidently a man of stature in the settlement and surely not one to disregard. He returns the bow then straightens to his full height. “Nonsense, huntress, you are welcome here anytime. I had heard of your coming; news travels fast in this part of the world, and I am glad you found me. I would have asked for the pleasure of your company in any case. You see, I am concerned about something and hope that you might be able to provide assistance.”
Ember bows once more, surprised. “I will gladly assist where I may. What is your concern?”
He begins pacing again as he tells her of a courier he had sent out that should have returned ages ago. Other travelers from whom he had enlisted help had been unable to locate the man. “Please see if you can find him, Embermoon. The last I saw of him, he was pulling off the shore in a small boat and heading off to the mainland. It has been so long that I begin to fear the worst.”
“I shall do my best, m’lord. That is all I can promise.” She turns quickly and heads back to her cot, where she straps her blade across her shoulders, gathers up her bow and quiver, then dashes off to catch the boat before it leaves for the shore.
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Post by embermoon on Aug 2, 2006 17:03:19 GMT -5
The waves wash against the beach gently. She looks back across the water and can see the dock on Sardor Isle faintly though the mists rising off the water. Ember turns and heads south, her feet sinking slightly into the sandy beach. If the courier set sail for this shore, his boat should be somewhere nearby. Perhaps she might find a clue as to his whereabouts from that. It is always dangerous walking on unfamiliar lands and she has heard about the creatures that have come to possess this shore. Great giants and elemental creatures of water have been spotted and a few have been slain, but not enough to make for safe passage.
Her long legs carry her swiftly along the shore and she occasionally ventures out into the water to see if she can spot a boat. She makes her way carefully along, making certain to not disturb any of the giant Wave Striders she comes across. They tower above her, easily six times her height. She has to crane her neck to see the faces of these giants. Or she would if she was close to, but she takes care never to be seen by them.
She has not traveled far when she notices something stuck on the beach. She moves closer to see what it may be then stops suddenly as a Wave Strider rises out of the water. Too close! With a snarl of rage, it lumbers towards her, raising its great mace above his head and swinging it down to come crashing into her side, lifting her bodily from the ground and tossing her effortlessly quite a few feet from where she had stood only a moment ago. Groaning and struggling to rise to her feet, she runs towards the hills nearby, clutching at her side. She knows she is no match and her only hope of survival is to run. The ground trembles with each step the Wave Strider takes and she keeps running, not slowing until she drops to hide in a depression, listening intently for any further pursuit. Thankfully, these giants do not have brains to match their size and he gives up as soon as he loses sight of her. Letting her head fall heavily against the ground, she puts a hand to her side where the mace had connected. It is difficult to breathe, every intake of breath sends shooting pains down her side, but she grits her teeth and removes her chestplate, lifting it slowly until she can lay it aside and inspect her wound.
Gingerly she touches her side with her fingers, wincing with the pain. No broken bones, or at least not any that she can feel, but she will have another scar and a great bruise where her armour had been bent into her. Reaching for a skin of water, she drinks mightily then lies unmoving upon the ground, closing her eyes for a moment trying to rest. Ember’s eyes open suddenly as her communicator crackles loudly. She grabs for it desperately to lower the volume. She had not used it since speaking with Kella while on the ship and obviously had forgotten to turn it down afterwards. She groans at the sudden movement and adjusts the reception, whispering into it.
“Greetings. To whom am I speaking?”
“Good morning, Ms. Swiftriver. How are you today?”
Her eyes open wide at the sound of his voice and an involuntary smile spreads over her lips.
“I have been better, my lord Kurito. Currently I am lying on the very cold ground. To what do I owe this honour?”
He chuckles softly. “It is an honor to speak with me? Now THAT I never knew. As for a reason to speak; do I need one? I was just wondering how you were doing. I hope I am not interrupting anything that would have you lying on the ground.”
Despite her pain, she laughs softly. “Oh, not anything I would not happily relinquish given the option, but I have not the option, so I lie here trying to recover my breath.”
“You are lying on the ground trying to recover your breathing? Hmmm…I fear I AM interrupting.” His laughter is warm and she revels in the sound. “He must be quite the man.”
“Well,” she replies, “he is quite tall and muscular, carries a huge mace which he swings with great force down upon poor helpless elf women, tossing them through the air like they are sacks of feathers, and usually can be addressed as … Wave Strider.”
Suddenly his voice becomes more serious and he says anxiously, “Oh. I’m sorry. I had no idea. Are you hurt? Do you need help?”
Ember glances over towards her battered armour and winces. “I would have been worse if not for my armour. It certainly needs a bit of repair at this point, but I shall survive…somehow. But you have helped me once before already; I would not ask it of you again. I owe you. Perhaps I could help you this time. Where are you?”
“I’m in Felwood, but it’s too dangerous for you here. Don’t move. I’m coming.”
She smiles ruefully. It is not like she would be going anywhere soon regardless. She takes a moment to try and straighten out her chestplate, but her efforts do not make much of a difference, and she leans her head back and rests, waiting for Kurito.
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