You Don't Belong

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by The Writing Owl, Aug 23, 2013.

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  1. The crowds were gathered around the newest proclamation. In the small kingdom of Aleria, the king and royal advisors had put out a warning for the citizens about the newest threat.

    "To my loyal subjects,

    There has been a terrible tragedy. Our kingdom has been invaded by the people of the Nocte Woods, the shapeshifters. These lesser beings have tried to integrate into our society as if they were equals to us. We realize that it is they who have been responsible for people to go missing for weeks on end, only to reappear.

    We must take action! If you see a shapeshifter, characterized by their red or purple eyes, then strike them down immediately. We must not let them kill us all! They are parasites that steal our women and children, only to make us believe that they are these people.

    By this decree I proclaim that all shapeshifters be killed on sight!

    ~King Rebernard the Third"

    Soon across the few scattered towns, people started to strike down the changelings, who shifted as they were hurt by the humans. Most managed to escape, though a great many still perished to the swords of men. It was a great massacre for the shapeshifters. Though, one managed to stay hidden.

    A young girl, just barely old enough to be wedded, fled the massacre. Her eyes were pale, as if she were blind. The angry humans paid no mind to her as she seamlessly shifted to look like one of the women fleeing to keep their children away from the evil shapeshifters.
  2. Since the decree, James had been inundated with work. Nearly a smith of his own repute, he was finishing his apprenticeship when the town had suddenly come alive; demand for blades and all manner of weaponry to help rid of shapeshifters took precedence to his journeying. Fordays and days he worked. Sword, knife, mace, gauntlet, it hardly seemed to matter. Finally, with black hands from the forge, James laid down to rest. In the morning after a countless number of days, there were no orders, nothing to be filled. The shapeshifters had been removed.

    It was with a sigh that he finally bid adieu to his master, taking along with him tools of his trade and provisions as he set forth to a smaller neighboring city of Dalmar. There he began to build his life amidst the prosperous town, setting up a forge and slowly a home. His eyes were the deepest blue, contrasted by his black silhouette of hair and beard. He stood an average height, but with a build that boasted of broad shoulders and solid bone. His skin was somewhat pale, though it was constantly tanned from the fires of the forge and the soot of his ore.

    Hearing the door, he looked up from his pint to find a stranger. Raising to greet them, he called out. "What can I do for you?"
  3. "I need you to make a tool for me. Something sharp." The stranger, a man, said as he walked in. He dragged behind him a girl. Her hair was a long, curly brown and her skin tanned from work in the sun. Her eyes, an almost white color. "I need to see if this is really my daughter or not." He shoved the girl down to the floor, forcing her to kneel. She kept her head down, ignoring her scraped knees.

    The man looked haggard, his cheeks sunken in and his eyes surrounded by dark circles. He seemed to be one of the crazier ones, his bony fingers keeping a tight hold on the girl in ragged clothing. He looked around, almost skeptical of the place.
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