The Moon's Imprint

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Kisha, Dec 24, 2011.

  1. (basically a bio and story backround. the actual roleplaying of Lydia will be done in 3rd person.)

    Emotions are illusions, tricks the mind plays to make the passing of each day faster. However, if the tricks are played a little differently, it can make a second an hour, and a day, eternity.

    I am Lydia Nyght, belonging to neither the Dalish nor the Alienage. I used to be Dalish, once upon a time, but now I am what they call Saren Kol, "The Traitor". Saren Kol are forced to live on their own, knowing no friends, and leaving no adversary alive.

    Three years ago, my brother, Tamlen, died of an infection similar to the darkspawn taint. Shortly after the ceremony, I packed my bag and left.

    Tamlen was the only thing keeping me with the Dalish clan in the first place. After his death, the was nothing to stop me from leaving.

    The other elves shouted at me as I pushed my way through a wave of angry people. I did not listen to the words of hate and disgust spat at me while I passed by.

    A small part of me wanted to shout back, but couldn't. I'd say that the tweed thread stitching my lips tightly shut played a part in my lack of reaction.

    Months before Tamlen's death, I had been scouting the woods for shemlen. Next thing I knew, I was surrounded by seven bandits.

    They captured me, and kept me in a steel cage (where they got it, I haven't a clue, and honestly, I couldn't care less). I cursed at one of them, and they were bathing in flames. It was after fifteen minutes of screaming, water-splashing, and clothes-stomping that the bandits realized I was no ordinary elf.

    I was born with the Onyxa, or "voice of power". It give me the ability to summon elements, as well as the occasional spirit.

    The bandits sewed my mouth shut (and did a really crappy job, by the way. I'm not necessarily asking for craftsmanship, but, seriously.), and abandoned me in a new area of forest, with no weapons, just the tattered clothes I had already been wearing.

    On my way back to the camp, I searched for sharp objects to cut the threads holding my mouth shut. I found nothing, and ended up walking into camp, and being in a virtual spotlight.

    All the elves laughed at the sight of the new change, and Tamlen was the only one that tried to help. We spent hours trying to cut the strings, but only made a small cut that allowed me to stick little pieces of food in the corner of my mouth. (I wasn't happy, not being able to speak, but at least dying of starvation or thirst wasn't on my table.)

    So, I left, knowing that my departure was inevitable.

    After three years of being a nomad, I settled into a cave-like area in the Kocari forest. The Dalish have seen neither hide nor tail of me since that dreadful day, and I plan on keeping it that way.

    (PM me or reply if you're interested)
     
  2. My name is Garren Valira, bladesman of the great city of Denerim and now I find myself lost in a bleak and desecrated place.

    Even after three long years these Kocari wilds haven't changed at all. Well, maybe a few less darkspawn to worry about but then again, the hurlocks and genlocks found in these parts were never much of a match for me and my sword.

    Now exhaustion on the other hand was a much more serious threat to my health. The only nourishment I've had for the past four days was a single rabbit and what little fresh water I can carry. My armor and shield now feel so heavy that every step forward becomes another test of endurance.

    I spotted some tracks that looked human enough to trust and decided to follow them. Perhaps they would lead me to a way out of his hellhole and too some real food. Oooor maybe they belong to one of the chasind. What I wouldn't kill just to have some fresh bread... with a roast boar.

    Wait. When did I stumble upon this cave? Was I so focused on the idea of a meal that I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings? I'm fortunate I didn't find a chasind camp.

    "Hello. Is anybody here? I mean no harm!" Despite what I said, I readied myself to draw my sword if it came down to it.
     
  3. ...I had finally been discovered. Part of me wanted to jump up and down with joy, and the other part wanted to kill. Being hunted was all I could really remember. Luckily, I had always been able to slip away...just barely.There was a sound of rustling leaves and branches. "What do you want?", I tried to demand. Right.....no words...., a little voice spoke into my head. I quickly grabbed my throwing dagger, suspecting I didn't have enough time to sneak over into the corner where my bow and quiver rest against the wall. I couldn't see anything. Judging by the small ray of light streaming into the cave, it was barely dawn. I waited for a sword to come slicing throuch the air in front of me. But it didn't come.
     
  4. The cave seemed to be abandoned but there was no sign of whoever came here ahead of me ever leaving. I hefted my shield into my right arm and decided to proceed carefully.

    "Hello? Anyone still here?" Still no answer. There was however the slightest sound of movement that came from deeper within the cave. "I'm just looking for a way out of this forest and perhaps a spare bite to--"

    That was when I first saw her. She was a thin little thing, an elf. What in blazes was a knife-ear doing in this forest? This isn't their usual territory. Perhaps even more unusual, she was alone. No Dalish would dare travel around a place like this by themselves...
     
  5. A low growl rose from my throat. Who could this man possibly be? A templar? Seeing that I was "gifted", it figures that the Chantry might go after me under the assumption that I was a blood mage.

    But no matter who he was, or even what he did for a living, no templar would dare come into the Wilds. At least, that's the assumption I made. With Flemeth becoming a wilder, crazier, and possibly senile old woman, the Wilds got less and less visitors every month.

    I ignored the sound of a humble voice asking for help. It might've been a trap, and I wasn't giving up three years of my life to be caught now.

    I threw my dagger, and heard it cling against a stone wall. Damn.

    My fists clenched, and I was ready to swing a couple of punches at whatever was coming for me.
     
  6. The elf must have been more exhausted than I was. When I saw her throwing hand whip towards me I instinctively raised my shield for the intercept-- but it wasn't necessary. Her blade flew harmlessly past my left flank and crashed into the cave wall behind me.

    Now she was left unarmed and cornered. Careful- I reminded myself, -that's when someone is at their most dangerous. I opted to try and reason with the elf one more time. After all, I'm still in a bind. If she remained hostile then she would leave me with no alternative but to put the poor girl down. It'd probably be doing her a favor considering what else inhabits this forest.

    "You there, elf. Do you understand me? What are you doing here?" I watched as her fists wavered and her eyes narrowed but still no answer. Perhaps that was too condescending. "I was unaware your people roamed this forest. My name is Garren, knight of Denerim. I know our kin have ill blood between them but I wish you no harm. All I want is a way out of this damned place."
     
  7. Sure, nice to meet you, Garren. Can I make you some tea?, I thought bitterly.

    If only he could see that I had no way (and no intention) of communicating with him.

    There was no way I was going to even try to talk to a shelmen.
     
  8. No attempt at communication at all. She merely continued to stare me down without the slightest hint of intimidation despite the obvious fact that I was currently armed to the teeth by comparison.

    She was a stubborn one alright. Playing nice was not the answer here. She'd forced my hand. "I'm sorry little elf but you're leaving me with no other options." I tried my best to sound threatening but the severe lack of energy caused my voice to waver. Damn hunger.

    Would it even matter? She seemed unable to understand me. Luckily, I know some things that are universal to understand. I took a step towards her with my sword arm deliberately on the hilt of my blade. I begged the Maker for her to fall for my bluff. Crack, damn you. I don't have the strength to fight an adrenaline fueled elf right now.
     
  9. He took a step towards me, and I found myself taking a step back on instinct.

    I dove to the side to my bow and quiver, snatched them, and asembled myself to shoot an arrow at the man. Agh, screw it, I said in my mind, breaking off the tip of the arrow, and trying to cut the strings off my mouth.

    Sadly, I found no luck in ending my silence. Even if the bandits had done a crappy work of craftsmanship, they had made it damn-near permanent.
     
  10. With a single step the girl seemed to understand my intentions better than everything else I've said to her so far. With my second step towards her, she bolted for any direction that lead away from me. Not so fearless now, are you? Sorry elf but maybe you'll actually listen when you have nowhere else to run.

    No, that wasn't what she was doing after all. She sprung to her feet in a flash, now clutching a bow and quiver of arrows. Shit! You've got to be joking...

    Before she actually let the arrow loose she looked intently at it and removed it from the string. What could she possibly be up to? She quickly snapped the arrowhead off and began to make slicing motions with it pressed between her lips. As I took a closer look, I was finally able to understand why she had not spoken before. The poor thing had her lips stitched together. How had I not noticed before?

    I instantly dropped my intimidation act and stood there, watching her desperately try to remove the strings. I didn't want to make her jump at the sight of me walking towards her while she worked with an arrowhead so close to her mouth. When she seemed to give up I made a slow motion in her direction.
     
  11. Help.

    In all my years I had never thought such a desperate and pathetic thing. I wanted-no, I needed to speak. Three years was long enough, and the person in front of me was the first to utter a word towards me in ages. Whether or not he was a shem, it didn't matter.

    A tear slowly trickled down my cheek. Dammit, why are you crying?!, I mentally shouted at myself.

    Help. Please...help.
     
  12. The girl looked at me as I slowly approached. Her eyes welled up, a single tear managing to escape and ran down her cheek. It felt as though she were pleading for my assistance. It no longer mattered that just a moment ago, we were engaged in what very well could have become a life and death struggle. Despite the many long days of exhaustion and hunger weighing down on me I approached her with haste, setting my shield down on the floor and withdrawing my hunting knife from it's holster on my belt.

    I looked at my knife with a scowl. I had forgotten to clean the blade after I used it to cut up the rabbit meat I had eaten earlier this week. I swiped it against my pauldron to clean as much of it as I could as quickly as possible and looked over to the girl where she stood.

    "I'm going to have to ask you to try and remain still." I told her in as calm a voice as I could muster. I moved closer to inspect the stitching and immediately wished I hadn't. This was no recent dilemma. She had already managed to remove a small amount of it from the corner of her mouth. The thread was a fine quality but whoever did this to her was certainly no master with the needle.Lucky her. I raised my knife up to the first stitch. "I'm sure you are well aware that this is a very strong thread. Cutting through it may put a great deal of strain on you. Please, bear with me."
     
  13. I forced myself to stay still, knowing that any sudden movement could injure me, if not make me bleed to death.

    Had i really gotten to that low of a point, that I would allow a shem to assist me, let alone touch me?

    Riiiiiiiiiiiiiip.

    The pain was the first thing I felt. My mouth was sore. But, nonetheless, it was free. I could say Fuck you, I'm outta here, if I wanted to.

    I felt a strange feleing of freedom. It wasn't much, but this had finally changed.

    And then, I dared to speak the words of a life I had abandoned: "Ma serranas."

    I felt like I owed the man. I suppose I did. But I didn't even know where to begin.
     
  14. Thankfully my knife made relatively quick work of the thread. I could only begin to imagine the suffering it had caused her. There was no doubt that it was humans who had done that to her, considering her reaction upon first seeing me. That being that case, I can hardly blame her.

    "Ma serranas." Her words shook me from my train of thought. I imagine these were the first first words she had spoken in a long time, given the wear in the thread strands. The words she spoke to me were in the elven language so I was only able to guess as to their meaning. If I understood the city elves back in Denerim correctly, I believe it was their way of saying 'you have my thanks.' "Glad I could help." I muttered, my body felt like I about to collapse any minute now.

    I sat down where I stood and cleaned the blade of my knife more thoroughly before re-sheathing it this time and whisked my shield up off the ground, hefting it over my back. Damn, did it ever feel heavy.
     
  15. The man looked drouted, and possibly starving. I made a motion for him to stay where he was, already forgetting the fact I could speak.

    I moved over to my pack, and rummaged in it for a canteen. After throwing out a couple of miscellaneous items-as well as some embarrasing umentionables-, I found a leather container.

    "Alu" (elvish word for water. http://www.angelfire.com/empire2/angora5/Translator.html), I murmured. The canteen filled about halfway with water. I chucked it at the so-called "Garren".

    "Drink up", I said simply.

    I went over to my bow and quiver, and grabed them. Changing my mind, I put them back down, and made my way out of the cave. "I'll be back", I called to Garren.

    Hunting was my next objective. But I needed something small, that would cook quickly. Fish.
     
  16. I drank the contents of the canteen in one go, a long held breath sighed out in relief as I finished the last few drops. I never thought I could miss the taste of fresh water so much. I set the container down by my left leg and found myself already wishing there was more. I'll be sure to fill this back up for her when I get the chance. I told myself.

    I lowered my head and allowed myself to lean forward to support as little of my own weight as possible without toppling over. As good of a rest as one can get in full body armor, unfortunately.
     
  17. The sun burned into my eyes as I went to a pond near the cave.

    Luckily, there were some fish still there, despite the Blight that had passed in the past two years.

    I thrust my hands into the water, trying to grab the two biggest fish as fast as I could. My right hand clutched one of them, and my left flailed around uselessly, trying to get the other.
     
  18. I sat there awaiting the elf to return. I should remember to ask her what her name is when she comes back... I wonder why she left her bow behind? Maybe there's nothing around here she'd need it for to hunt. I sure didn't find much. I hoped that she came back with something made of meat.

    I considered waiting by the entrance to the cave, at least look out for her. Or signs of danger, whichever came first. I decided against it. Being outside would only attract unwanted attention. As a warrior of Denerim it was my duty to protect what I could. There was one little problem, though. Even if I wanted to I don't think I could have protected myself, much less anything else in this cave from any chasind who might find it and decide to scavenge some free supplies.

    There was no use thinking like that. I'm no dead man yet, I finally had a chance to find a way out of the Wilds. I was sent to investigate Ostagar, but it was beyond salvaging and was a fool's errand to have come here. Damn you, Nevra. Some commanding officer you turned out to be. What could you have possibly hoped to still be here after three years?
     
  19. I sighed, giving up on the other fish. I can stand to wait a little longer to have real food, I suppose.

    I walked back to the cave, wondering if Garren was still going to be there. Sure enough, the man was leaning against the wall.

    After gathering a couple of branches and twigs that were in the cave, I murmured, "naur".

    Sure enough, the pile pile of branches were on fire, and I began to prepare the fish to be cooked.
     
  20. I heard footsteps echo off of the cave walls. She was finally back. Hopefully, with something we could eat.

    She was carrying an impressive looking fish in her right hand and I couldn't help but smile at the sight of it. Food at last. She gathered up some scraps of wood and placed them in a pile to burn.

    I forced myself onto my feet and made my way over to the opposite side of the fire pit, watching while she nimbly prepared the fish for the fire. I tried to make a little small talk and figured I would try to learn her name while I was at it.

    "If you wouldn't mind telling me, what is your name? I don't want to have to simply refer to you as 'elf' or 'girl' when we talk."