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Private last we said goodbye

Discussion in 'Crystal Vales' started by Zevran Arainai, Aug 5, 2019.

  1. Zevran Arainai

    Zevran Arainai Dragon Age

    Posts:
    5
    Gender:
    Male
    Occupation:
    Assassin
    Location:
    Drifter
    Race:
    Elf
    Age:
    30
    Alignment:
    Chaotic Neutral
    Date: July 22, Y108
    Location: A homey elf camp, Dednear woodlands
    Tag: @Amras

    The darkness that had swarmed him as tendrils grasped his ankles and yanked him through what shoild have been clay roof tiles, dissipated. Instead of the inside of an attic, Zevran found himself looking up at broken bits of night sky. What he mistook in the moment for the shattered remnants of a roof, he realized with their subtle movements that he was looking up through a canopy of trees. The rest of his vision suddenly came to him and he stumbled as the tail ends of black tendrils seeped back down into the ground. Before they could get away, he tried to stomp on them, as if to get back at whatever demon had taken him, but his boot just hit the loamy earth as they disappeared quickly into the forest floor.

    "Maldición... Well this is unexpected, is it not?" Zevran muttered to himself, picking up only the sounds of the forest around him through the cloth of his hood. One minute, he had finished a deed of murder most foul - although in Zevran's eyes, the assassination of the Rialtan Guildmaster had been entirely justified - and the next, he was in the woods. In nature. Like the Dalish. Only he didn't feel like doing any dancing around in the moonlight, or such nonsense. He more felt like finding a road and getting to the nearest civilization - which, who the Maker knew where that even was. He also couldn't shake the idea that this felt like deja vu.

    Then, in the middle of the sky up above, the sliver of smoke passed over twinkling stars. It had been barely perceptive but keen amber eyes picked up on it. A camp, perhaps?

    Camps meant people, which meant information. Zevran picked his way through the forest, and even though he moved silently with ease through cobbled streets and over slanted rooftops, he couldn't say that the woods was quite his domain. He knew enough, like don't step on twigs and keep to shadows, so to a human, he was but a shadow clad in muted greys and blacks and glinty bits of metal.
     
    #1 Zevran Arainai, Aug 5, 2019
    Last edited: Aug 18, 2019 at 1:56 PM
    Amras likes this.
  2. Amras

    Amras Tolkien Legendarium

    Posts:
    17
    Gender:
    Male
    Race:
    Noldorin Elf
    Age:
    1918 looks in his mid-late 20's
    Alignment:
    Chaotic Neutral
    It had been a good day for Amras, something that seemed like much of a rarity these days. While out hunting that morning he'd found himself with a new companion. Her leg had been twisted up behind her, tangled in a rope trap, and leaving the poor creature unable to move. The poor hound looked half starved when Amras had come across her, though she had recovered remarkably quickly once he had freed her, giving her some water and a few of his rations to eat. She really was a magnificent beast, sleek of build and the most glowing white fur he had ever seen. She took to following him soon after he'd fed her and at this point he had to consider her some sort of good luck charm. His success in his hunt today certainly supported that idea.

    He turned the rabbit, skewered through and set over the fire, so that it would not burn. That done, he once more leaned back against his tree, absently stroking his hand through the fur of the hound laying across his lap. He sighed contently as he looked up at the stars through the canopy of trees above. They appeared particularly beautiful tonight, though perhaps that was just his own bias, tonight being the first night Pandora seemed willing to give him a break.

    Whatever the case...Yes, it was a good night. The smell of roasted rabbit hung in the air and he could just lean back and think. It was peaceful.

    And perhaps that was the key word here. It "was".

    He heard it before he saw it, the quiet sound of someone sneaking about in the underbrush of the forest. A frown pulled at the corners of Amras's lips as he glared into the surrounding forest. The hound's head rose, a low growl escaping her. Amras rose to his feet hand reaching back for his bow. He nocked an arrow calling out into the night. "Show yourself!" he growled, pulling the string of his bow back, ready to fire at a moment's notice "I will only ask you once."
     
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  3. Zevran Arainai

    Zevran Arainai Dragon Age

    Posts:
    5
    Gender:
    Male
    Occupation:
    Assassin
    Location:
    Drifter
    Race:
    Elf
    Age:
    30
    Alignment:
    Chaotic Neutral

    Zevran approached the campsite from up wind, which he gathered from the woods around him to be as the leaves shifted towards him. There wasn't really much of a breeze at all, but any that there were, Zevran preferred he not be down wind of it. One never knew what was guarding a camp, dogs came to mind. And as... endearing as dogs were aesthetically, at least in the south, with their drooling gormless looks that made people just want to hug them, as an assassin, dogs really liked to make his job harder. As an Antivan, they also tended to be dirty and mangey. So... he didn't have the fondest memory of them.

    And low and behold, as he slowed down to a creep at the edge of the campsite, whomever was there must have had very keen hearing. Very keen hearing, indeed. Most curious. Zevran stopped, amber eyes watching from beneath hood as a figure stood up from where they had been resting, and another form, this time pale and low to the ground, gave out a warning growl. A dog. Of course.

    Zevran could see the figure was male in features, since he was lit up in front by the fire, and he was notching an arrow and pointing it in the directions of the shadows where he stood. The jig was up, as they said. A mildly amused expression crossed Zevran's face as he leaned forwards onto the balls of his feet, rocking himself forwards at a slow saunter. Emerging from the trees, he held gloved hands up, giving the hound a good look just to make sure it was staying by its master's side before he let his gaze travel slowly up the form of the other, from boot all the way to the tip of the arrow that was still pointed directly at him.

    What he saw made his smirk widen, the corner of his lips twitching. "Ah, mi amor, if you're going to shoot a man before offering him your dinner, then you'll be missing out on dessert." he called out to, stopping short of the other side of the fire. That was when his gaze flicked to the face of the taller man -- ah, no, elf. Pointed eyes, proud features, lack of facial tattoos though... and much, much taller than any elf he had seen before. Long red hair, freckles, hawkish, disapproving expression...

    Zevran's face suddenly stilled in a moment of recognition. A flash of some kind of memory sprung to the back of his mind, like an old, forgotten childhood memory - one that seemed to some in flashes of realism, but yet seemed so dream-like in quality. His own expression changed from a languid, bemused look to one of distant focus and mild confusion, his shoulders slackened. He really couldn't put the man to memory, but he knew this man.

    An equally sudden dawning crashed into him and the forest background around them spun as the reason for the familiarity came to him, a rush of memories piling up quickly, one on top of another. Blackhaven... tattoo shop... assassins... crows... tracking them on horseback... burning farmhouse... a sudden pain in the back of his head... horrible, screechy voices... an arrow in the dark... chaos... "Aye, braska..." he muttered to himself under his breath, one hand coming up from where he held it in surrender, fingers rubbing the back of his head where he expected a lump, but no lump could be found.

    "Amras?" he asked, with clarity returning to his eyes. Pandora, he was in ... in a place called Pandora. He had been here briefly before.
     
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  4. Amras

    Amras Tolkien Legendarium

    Posts:
    17
    Gender:
    Male
    Race:
    Noldorin Elf
    Age:
    1918 looks in his mid-late 20's
    Alignment:
    Chaotic Neutral
    His muscles were pulled as taught as his bow string as he waited for whom ever it was that stalked his camp to reveal themselves. The man moved slowly, with the sort of arrogant saunter that only irked at Amras in that moment. He held his hands up, eyeing the hound at Amras's feet, before slowly drawing his eyes up Amras's form, from boot to arrow tip. If Amras had been annoyed by his air before, as his mouth opened and he began speaking things only grew the worse. Strangely, it felt almost...familiar to the elf. A sharp click escaped the corner of Amras's lips, and for several moments after he'd spoken, Amras held his aim true. It would be so simple...he couldn't possibly be held in the wrong here either, could he? Maybe, if his hand were just to slip...an accident....

    Nobody would know... nobody.

    He was about to lay his bow aside, but then something strange seemed to come over his visitor. For a moment he stilled, his muscles slackening. And then, suddenly he reached back behind himself. By instinct Amras's own muscles tensed further, the sinew of his bowstring drawn back once again.

    Now the man seemed to recognize him... no, not a man. Amras noticed his ears, more exaggerated than the delicate leaf shape of his own, but still recognizably similar. He was shorter than most elves Amras knew, but still, an elf. And as this thought crossed his mind, his own memory started to return to him. At last, he lowered his bow. A long exasperated sigh escaped from him, unsure of if it was the elf it was directed at or Pandora itself. Probably both. "Hello, Zevran."
     
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  5. Zevran Arainai

    Zevran Arainai Dragon Age

    Posts:
    5
    Gender:
    Male
    Occupation:
    Assassin
    Location:
    Drifter
    Race:
    Elf
    Age:
    30
    Alignment:
    Chaotic Neutral

    While Amras had the advantage of not being kicking in the proverbial balls, Zevran was reeling from the sudden knowledge. It was this gift and this gift allowed that awarded the taller elf the respite from being hit on. The distraction of everything he knew being a lie, and that a small part of his life had been hidden from him only to suddenly come to him, left Zevran will a mildly shocked look on his face and a slightly open mouth.

    Zevran's hand slowly went up to the top of his hood, sliding between the space between the fabric and his hair as he ran his fingers through the sun-bleached straight blonde hair. His hood slipped back, folds of black resting against the nape of his neck. "Well... this is... mierda* - well not you. I didn't think I'd be back here." he said, his voice slow to begin with as he dragged himself back to his senses. "I guess it just took a pretty face to drag me back to my senses, no?" he suggested, his stunned expression disappearing as a quick half-grin appeared. Amras' respite would be brief.

    Zevran didn't even think twice about the fact that the other elf had just threatened him moments before. Threats of death occurred on a frequent basis for Zevran, so one never knew when one was going to die. It was best to just not dwell on it. Zevran was getting uncomfortably hot so close to the fire, especially with gloves on, so he worked on loosening one, pulling at each fingertip. "So, Amras- " he began to ask, emphasizing the other's name without losing the smirk. "Did you miss me?" he asked, gripping the end of one tip between his teeth and pulling the glove off.

    *mierda = shit
     
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  6. Amras

    Amras Tolkien Legendarium

    Posts:
    17
    Gender:
    Male
    Race:
    Noldorin Elf
    Age:
    1918 looks in his mid-late 20's
    Alignment:
    Chaotic Neutral
    Amras let out a rather exasperated sigh as he slipped the arrow back into his quiver. This world truly had a very twisted sense of humor. Dropping him in a young elleth's bed room, a man who bore a face quite similar to his stalking the governor of Cascade Bay, and now this? Was it that this world simply wanted to watch him suffer? It certainly seemed so at times. He shook his head, moving to sit before the fire once more. He would grant Zevran this much at least: he was not quite as bad as being mistaken for someone else and being thrown in a dungeon to rot.

    His new companion on the other hand seemed to disagree.

    The hound continued to growl and bark at the other elf, especially as, to her eyes, he seemed to look at Amras rather predatorily. It was an odd thing, but even to his own ears the sound was barely audible, as though she were on the other side of the forest rather than there beside him right then.

    Seeking to calm the hound, Amras put a hand on her head , scratching her behind the ears. "He is no threat to us." Indeed Amras seemed perfectly relaxed as he rotated the rabbit over the fire once again. Though, ever since he'd been ambushed in Cascade Bay he'd been feeling quite the opposite, keeping his guard up at all hours. Of course, it was perhaps better not to show that...

    "Only about as much as you missed me." Was his only reply, and that was to say not at all. A fact the elven prince tried to accentuate by hardly spareing Zevran a glance, lest he find some way to take another meaning from Amras's words. Of course, if he was once again new to this world as his previous actions suggested then he wasn't entirely sure how he could given that, at least from his own experiences, Zevran shouldn't have had any memory of this place up until he arrived here, but there was no doubt in the older elf's mind that he would find a way.
     
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