The Great War

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EquinoxSol

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As Finariel told the gathered elves about the hidden passage, Faervel's mother gathered his sisters and asked him what he wanted to do. He shrugged, still in shock from what had happened in the last hour. His father, dead, his best friend, also dead. As well as hundreds of other elves. There wouldn't be enough time for grand burials for the fallen warriors, or proper rights given to the women and children that had also fallen. His mother told him that she and his sisters would head for the monastery, and if he wanted to go there then he could.

Once he was alone, Faervel wandered into the castle and up to his chambers. He took off his armor and changed into regular clothes, wanting to rid himself of all this. When he was done, he went back outside, even though he didn't want to look at his father's body.

Still, he forced himself to kneel by his body, whispering a prayer of last rites to the gods. Afterwards, he stood, the knees of his trousers stained with blood now. Looking around, he finally saw a glint of silver on the ground a fair bit away. He walked towards it and picked up the silver object, a necklace that his father had worn. It was a silver chain, with a lotus pendant hanging from it, and Faervel put it on, his blue eyes filling with tears again as he felt the weight settle on his chest.

Straightening again, he looked around for Fenariel, frowning slightly.
 

Aedion

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Seeing Faervel seemingly looking for someone, Finariel runs over to him, sword in hand. "What is it, my lord? Are you looking for someone?"
 
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EquinoxSol

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Faervel couldn't help but flinch as Finariel called him 'My Lord'. Still, he folded his arms across his chest and tried to look lordly, like his father often would. "Ad-advise me. What should I do now? My mother and sisters are going to the monastery, but...I'm not. I want to keep my city safe. Well...what's left of it..." He bit his bottom lip, looking like he might begin crying again.

Then, his voice softer than a whisper, he added, "I'm not sure I'm ready to be a lord of anything..."
 

Aedion

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"It pains me to say, but go to the monastery with the others. We will join you soon. The city has fallen, so we will merely act as a rear guard. Helven must be warned, but, more importantly, your people need you. The humans will find the passage soon enough. We will delay them as long as we can. You ARE the Lord of Eathkar, Protector of the White Keep, the last bastion of safety against the human onslaught, but that does not mean you have to shoulder the burden alone. I will command the elves that are staying behind. You go and lead the others." Grabbing his forearm in the ancient greeting and farewell, he pulls Faervel into a hug and whispers in his ear, "Go. May the gods watch over you."
 
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Applo

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Torgeir Gunnarsson crept through the working quarters of the White Keep and cursed his luck. When he'd snuck away from the main square the elves had been shackled and cowed by the death of their lord. As he had reached the White Keep however he had heard an uproar coming from the direction of the square and then witnessed several elves running up towards the Keep's steps. It had seemed sensible at the time to hide in the Keeps lower levels, surely there would be a side entrance he could sneak out of.

As he'd plunged deeper into the corridors of the keep however he'd found himself getting confused and disorientated with the endless identical passages. He'd had one close call when peering round a corner he'd seen an injured elf heading strait for him, but with some quick footwork and a lot of luck he'd manged to hide round the corner of another passage before they had spotted him. His new plan, well hope was to find an armory of some sort and disguise him self in any elvish armor he could find. That way he might be able to bluff his way out past any elves. What would happen if any other humans found him was a whole other question and one that he put out of his mind for now. He peered round another corner and was once more greeted by the now familiar sight of a long empty hallway, this way seemed as good as any right now. ​
 

Aedion

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Tserra had slipped away during Finariel's speech after ensuring that the captured humans were tied up with the same shackles that bound them moments earlier. She was not prepared for it to be a cycle of both species taking it in turns to be in those iron cuffs. Especially when she had just gained an injury that needed immediate attention. It was a miracle that she had gotten so far without being attacked by her fellow elven people...she knew there was confusion due to her appearance and mannerisms. Human, but not human enough. Elf...but not prominently...apart from her damn ears.

The castle was the only place Tserra could be sure had medical supplies that she could use, with most of the other places burning or destroyed, she needed to be sure she could find something for her wounds in the first place she looked instead of running around all over the place. Her hand was pressed firmly against her side, just below her ribs with the gash slanting downwards so it ended just past her hip bone. Curving ever so slightly. She had been tired, a cocktail of blood and sweat was stinging her eyes and she lost concentration and sight of her opponents blade.

Tserra stumbled finally into the castle's kitchens, which was luckily still clear after all that had happened. Her clumsy actions as she searched for some form of alcohol caused some pots, pans and plates to clang or shatter over the cobblestone flooring, perfectly in tune with her mild cursing. In the end she was able to locate some alcohol along with a small kit upon which she only took a single bandage roll and cotton pad from. Sitting down besides the fireplace, Tserra bit down hard on her knuckles to keep from shouting out in pain as she poured some alcohol onto her gash, the hand shaking slightly from how much it was killing her. "The little...and to think I'm..." She trailed off her cursing, hissing slightly with the after pain as she heard the roar from the elven people that Finariel managed to rile up. Her head tipped back and she closed her eyes as Tserra took a moment to compose herself before adding another splash of alcohol to clean the wound to then, with trembling hands, try and place the cotton pad and bandage in herself too.

Finariel walks through the keep to the kitchen. Walking in, he sees... Tserra? She's wounded, and trying to bandage herself with one hand. He walks over to his old friend and says, "Here. Let me help."

He begins murmuring in the ancient language. His voice is barely audible, and all she hears is the last two words: "wäsie hïel". He looks up at her and says, "Is that better?"
 

Viverescribere

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Damn it. Why did he have to walk in right now? Tserra didn't need or want anyone seeing her as she was in that moment, she detested looking weak. "I'm fine," she ground out, refusing to look up at him out of shame. She didn't need him thinking that she had lost her skill as a trained fighter. She didn't need him believing that she needed help because she couldn't protect herself. "Dammit Finariel! I'm fine, I can do this!"

But of course he didn't listen, and she couldn't help but sigh and allow her head to tip backward as she felt a slight cold numbness seep through the searing pain that had been around the wound moments before. Tserra reluctantly nodded in response to his question, licking her lips as she pushed herself up into a sitting position, being careful not to disturb the bandages. "Thank you...I appreciate it."
 

Aedion

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"You obviously weren't fine." He says. He hears the pain in her voice, but it wasn't physical. She probably feels as if I think less of her. To reassure her, he says, "You probably think I think less of you. I don't. You are one of the greatest fighters I know. We all get hurt sometimes." He stands up. "We have been friends since we met when you first walked into Eathkar all those years ago. There is nothing that can happen that will change how I see you." He sighs. "I've been wounded today too. Just not physically. I watched Ianir die. I watched Lord Calaer be murdered by barbarians. I saw Lord Faervel mourning, feeling as if he has no place. It hurts, and its on the inside, but its still a wound. "
 

Viverescribere

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"Regardless, I didn't need help." She mumbled stubbornly, refusing to look at him still. She didn't need him reading her mind as he always seemed to bloody do. As he was doing at that moment. Grumbling irately under her breath, Tserra heaved a sigh as he gave her his speech, roughly pushing hair from her face and glancing down to the bandage around her waist and lower hips. "Yeah, I know. You were probably the only person to talk to me that day. That means I care about what you think about me even more. I don't need you thinking that I'm some damsel in distress."

Her gaze finally flickered to meet his, jaw clenched and teeth gritted as she folded her arms loosely below her chest, careful not to move too much lest she pull on the wound. "And what were you just rallying for? To storm on the rest of the human population? To take away their royalty as they took away ours? To kill their Lord's friends too? That would make us no better than them."
 

Aedion

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Aedion

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"Regardless, I didn't need help." She mumbled stubbornly, refusing to look at him still. She didn't need him reading her mind as he always seemed to bloody do. As he was doing at that moment. Grumbling irately under her breath, Tserra heaved a sigh as he gave her his speech, roughly pushing hair from her face and glancing down to the bandage around her waist and lower hips. "Yeah, I know. You were probably the only person to talk to me that day. That means I care about what you think about me even more. I don't need you thinking that I'm some damsel in distress."

Her gaze finally flickered to meet his, jaw clenched and teeth gritted as she folded her arms loosely below her chest, careful not to move too much lest she pull on the wound. "And what were you just rallying for? To storm on the rest of the human population? To take away their royalty as they took away ours? To kill their Lord's friends too? That would make us no better than them."

"Tserra, you are a better warrior than I am. If I thought you were a damsel in distress, you'd probably kill me. Remember, you could be in mortal danger and actually need help, and you'd still be better than me. I need YOUR help more often. Don't think I think less of you, because I don't." He sighs again. "As for why I was rallying, it was merely a call to arms. There is a passage many of the rest of us are taking to escape to Helven. I was rallying elves to act as a rear guard." @Viverescribere
 
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