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Post by Roara on Feb 24, 2008 17:23:15 GMT -5
There is a saying that goes, one only has a single life time. Some are shorter than others, but in the end there are no second chances. Many believed that to be the world's one and only truth. If it wasn't for a story that has been passed down for generations, we would have too.
When I first heard the story of the Sage of Time, I had just meet her. The one who has the power of heart and love will overcome time itself and bring their fallen hero back from the dark. They will travel through the realm of the gods to search for the one who has such abilities. Only once proven worthy will they find their wish granted.
It had been a year and a half since she died. It wasn't supposed to happen. We were supposed to be married and have a happily ever after. Unfortunately, fate had other plans
Before we left in search for the Sage, her father confronted me with gifts wishing me well travel. A silver pendant with her family crest, the one that she wore every day before she passed. And, a black tunic, with the markings of someone on the passage to a ritual of the dead. Both were symbolic, and proved to provide much needed morality when we were down on our luck on our first step of our journey: To the Realm of the Gods.
The realm of the gods was said to be at the end of the world. And from a logical standpoint, it was.
The realm was an endless forest of ancient towering trees. Their branches Started almost three stories up, and the leaves were so plentiful that they let only slivers of light through the canopy. The ground was mostly level, and the roots didn't spread wide, but deep, as if feeding off of the life of the earth itself.
We all thought that Journey to the forest itself would be the most difficult, and on the way it seemed like it too. But, fate had a twist in mind.
From where we were you couldn't tell how late in the day it was. The canopy overhead blocked so much of the sun, that only slivers of light shone through to illuminate the path ahead. We were all hungry, but we knew we had to press on, to our ultimate goal.
The three of us were riding a horse pulled wagon. there was a tight animal skin canopy going from the sides and rounding over the top. There was no one at the reigns of the horse, and we were moving along at a slow pace.
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Post by Vaidia on Mar 10, 2008 23:23:18 GMT -5
((Well yes, I'm sadly late on posting this and I'm very sorry about that. But, finally, I got the time to do it. Yay!))
The soft drone of steel-framed wooden wheels, dragging and crunching across coarse matted forest floor, bumping over each root-raised soil pile and clunking down into every divot in the ground, this was one of the only sounds that pressed against pointed Hylian ears in these ever-silent grounds. Only a few other things, the rhythmic shuffle of her lifted footsteps grinding and tumbling the leafy ground into a mulch, the muted clopping of the horses hooves and the subtle sway of humonic life joined in this melody of a travelers band. No rodents, no insects, no other breathing thing other than the groaning trees thought to exist in sounds form here. Eerie, this quiet is. Suffocating, this silence was to her.
Tall, this woman stood, her height held mostly with pride rather than physical shape, Her back did not bend into a subdued arc, but stood defiantly straight with dignity. And, each step she made had purpose, never faltering or wavering, weakening or stumbling, only pure forward motion. Steps taken that had strode so deep into this shadow never could return to the light. Her face reeked of self-confidence and was sharpened with deep blades of a life of hardship, defined with stead-fast courage to her beliefs. Framing this was locks of streaming black hair, matted with lack of care and reaching down just short enough to where the only spot it would fall on her face was on a forehead. Perfect emerald eyes peered out from under this unlayered layer of bangs, analyzing this world and fixated on the future. A bubble, made of solidified airs, lifted her chin toward what was ahead, keeping her from turning to see behind her. Bent on continuing onward, she would not, could not look back.
On her body, she wore an outfit of scattered armors of several lands. A chain mail dress, stretched around her wrapping curves, ending in arms at her elbows with fanning sleeves and at bottom above her knees. A shirt of lack wool followed under this mail, stopping and wrapping around the sleeves of the top, ending too early to be seen at her bottom, where black pants ending just above the knee took over. Here, below this, some of her eerily pale skin would show, just a moments worth, until the coverings of her leg hid it away. Calf protectors, gray bordered with black borders, covered the front, the back left with nothing to cover it but once-white wrappings that ensnared all of her lower leg in a cast but her feet, which had simple, light and practical black shoe-socks.
More armor lied over her top. Part was leathered gray shoulder pads, swarming in segments far enough up to wrap around her neck. From this, down her back and front, was more gray leathered segments, bordered in black and reaching down her as a blank banner, ending in a V-shape at below her waist. Across her right arm, a length of ebony colored metal plate stretch along, elbow loosened with an interlude of silvery chain mail and ending just before her wrist. Securing this onto her was a thick gray band that stretched over the banner and wrapped under and around her left side. No armor would be on her left, except a V-layered platings on her lower arm that only covered the front. At her side was nothing but a simple long blade, unadorned and basic in every way.
She did not ride with these people for one reason, her trust. To put herself off-guard, even for the sake of convenience, would bring her too much trouble in the mind, twist her into a tense turmoil that would ultimately cause her to turn violent. So, along the side she would walk, feeling the itching strain of miles wandering burning in each strained muscle, presiding over this knacking annoyance with a stoic, blank expression of secret defiance. To show pain, even in mental thought, would to be weak, even on something so minor. Even her emotions were too proud to long for the desire for to show weakness, making up excuses and barriers to stop her from the want of what she now needed, what secretly she knew to be the best thing to do: Rest.
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Post by Roara on Mar 11, 2008 2:13:13 GMT -5
"Why do you not ride with us?" Evan asked, breaking the silence in the realm like dropping a leaf in a pool, the sound rippling the almost perfect silence.
"There is still room for one more in here. The horse will be fine with a little extra weight. But why do you need the armor? We will not be fighting much anything besides maybe a wolf. It only slows you down and fatigues you more."
From his position, he was sitting on the floor of the wagon, head slouched over his bent legs, arms lay at his side. There was someone else (d**nit Pinata post!) but you could not make them out in the thick darkness.
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Post by piñata on Mar 17, 2008 10:36:04 GMT -5
( Vaidia: Don't worry about it, you're nowhere near as late in posting as I am.) Pinata leaned forward, the dim light that was breaking through the canopy finally illuminating his face. His brown eyes were sharp and intelligent, but also had an intense, haunted look to them, as if he had endured centuries of torment. His hair was cut so short that it was difficult to make out its original black color in this dim light. A nasty scar marred one cheek, though it was nothing to the scars that would be revealed if he took off his clothes. His right leg looked as if it had been severed and then reattached at some point, and his chest was even worse, the entire surface crisscrossed with marks of grisly wounds in multiple layers. His clothing was mostly nondescript, although purple was a rather distinctive color and it bore some Elvish runes that further set him apart visually from other people. One of the runes was the mark of a Kinslayer... the others were mostly positive in nature. He wore a leather jerkin beneath his clothes, but other than that had no armor. His weapon was a fine silver sword, with a woman's name engraved on it. Evan, Pinata's longtime friend, knew the story behind the name engraved on the sword... nobody else dared to ask, as Pinata had used the sword on the last stranger who had asked about it. "Yes," he said, "come up off the ground where it's safer. You never know what's been following us." He looked around suspiciously as he said this, as if to spot pursuers in the trees. (OOC: I didn't see any character profiles for this thread in the Legend of Zelda profiles thread, which is why I didn't post one myself. Roara, if you want, since I've stated that Evan knows some things about Pinata that others don't I can provide some background.)
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Post by Roara on Mar 17, 2008 13:20:54 GMT -5
(go ahead and PM it to me, since it probably has something to do with the reason Evan is there.)
"Or you don't know what we might run into here." Evan added, peeling forward the front animal skin flap to reveal the dimly lit road ahead. After staring for a few seconds, he thought he saw a silhouette, or shadow slide across the road in front of him, but it was too small to be human, and floated at the same height someone's head would be. He blinked again, and keept staring, but it was gone almost as fast as it had come.
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Post by piñata on Mar 18, 2008 10:57:04 GMT -5
(All right, will do.)
Pinata looked curiously at Evan. "Anything out there?" he asked, trying to sound casual. The two of them knew each other well enough to read each other's reactions, and Pinata had seen something in Evan's face or body language that tipped him off.
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Post by Roara on Mar 18, 2008 12:02:29 GMT -5
"...No." Was all Evan could finally muster out. He was confused, it could be he was over exhausted, it could be he was insane, or it could all be real.
"Lets just keep going." He concluded, and looked through the nearby bag for any food that might be left.
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Post by piñata on Mar 18, 2008 12:12:35 GMT -5
"All right," Pinata said, withdrawing his own food from a pouch of jerky worn at his hip. It was something he had picked up from a friend in another world, and it already fit in well with the way he drank (from a flask at his belt -- he liked to prepare his own food and drink to ensure they weren't poisoned, something he had learned from a teacher of defensive magic at his old school).
He bit off a few pieces of jerky, then washed them down with a couple swigs from the flask. "We're still headed in the right direction, aren't we?" he joked. Pinata was easily bored, and would often crack jokes or play music in order to pass the time.
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Post by Roara on Mar 18, 2008 12:30:40 GMT -5
"I am not sure there is a right direction anymore." Evan replied to Pinata, getting back into his hunched position. After another prolonged period of time, the squeaking sound of the wheels turning stopped. There was a loud thump outside. He opened the flap to the outside, and slid out legs first onto the soft flat ground.
The horse pulling their wagon had died of exhaustion. It's frame was much thinner than what it was when they first departed, and the hair that was once brilliant and white was now grey and dull.
"Take what you can." Evan told Pinata (and V's character if she decides to play). "It looks like we're walking."
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Post by piñata on Mar 19, 2008 10:52:10 GMT -5
Pinata nodded and shuffled through the saddlebags, adding what he could to his pack. Money, food and other necessities took up most of the new space, though he also made sure to grab anything that could conceivably be used in a fight. He spoke a few words over the body of the fallen horse, his voice too low to make out much more than the fact that he was speaking in the ancient language of the Druids, then got back to his feet and said, "Which way, Evan?"
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Post by Roara on Mar 19, 2008 12:29:13 GMT -5
Through the trees and with what little light you had you could see a light path of dirt, winding through the trees and stretching on for as far as you could see.
"That way." He pointed, and started slowly walking in the direction of uncertainty.
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Post by piñata on Mar 20, 2008 10:38:33 GMT -5
("...walking in the direction of uncertainty" -- that's pretty good writing. You're bringing your A game for this one, aren't you?)
Pinata moved to the rear of the group, taking up a guard position. He probably wasn't as good a scout as the woman -- her pointed ears could pick up sounds of approaching enemies faster -- but he was more wary than either of his companions, another trait instilled in him by his grizzled old teacher. "Constant vigilance," he muttered, quoting the wise -- if somewhat crazy -- wizard's mantra.
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Post by Roara on Mar 20, 2008 14:34:22 GMT -5
(It is my RP, not to mention it makes you like reading it)
"I don't think there is anything to be afraid of here." Evan said, stopping to look between the trunks of the void of trees around them. From what he could see, there was nothing but the towering giants and the path ahead. When he began to walk along the path again, out of the corner of the eye he thought he saw the silhouette again. When he jumped to look there was nothing.
"I must be hallucinating. " He said softly, and continued on.
**
Night came slowly, but when it arrived the temperatures dropped to a frigid state. Gathering some leaves that had fallen on the ground, they made a fire, and stopped for the night.
(I dont think V is coming back..)
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Post by Vaidia on Mar 20, 2008 15:24:32 GMT -5
((Yeah, I know I took a bit here, but now I'll be free to make lots of posts now because I have the next week off from school. Woo!))
To those words that were spoken to her, she remained mute, deafening out the kind words of supposed concern. Only a faint waifing of what was said traveled to her ears, tickling her nerves with the smallest of feathers, quilling out half-formed retorts to say if her decision was to listen. Yet, time chose to pass before she could make such a decision, forcing those thoughts into a simple wisp of smoke and sharpening her focus onto that which was necessary: her surroundings. The odd, unnatural silence that so unnerved her with it's strangeness, but in this discomfort was interest brought forth. To be encountered with possibility of a something terrifyingly horrid happening was a thought to be pleasured, for she enjoyed action.
Yet, to have one who did not know were to go in her lead was rather frustrating. Despite her understanding of the situation; her knowing that this mission was a all but mystery and guess work, the woman could not help but feel her mind turn like so. But, this emotion was only weak, not revealing itself in any physical way and remaining only a pin-prick annoyance to her. Patience is Virtue.
---
Twilight fell, and it was at this time they made camp for the night. A pleasant wave of relief rushed over her, calming and cooling her burning body with only the thoughts of finally being able to rest. She nearly lost control of her manner at first, almost removing her armor at the moment that the mention of the camp was going to be here, but collected herself until everything was set. It was now, sitting around the fire, that she had already removed the metal protections from around her and placed them neatly next to her. The only clothing that was on her now was the shortened leggings, her feet coverings, and a black shirt that cut short at her elbows.
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Post by piñata on Mar 21, 2008 9:53:20 GMT -5
"Nothing to be afraid of? I'm afraid of you hallucinating," Pinata muttered as he overheard Evan. Just to make sure it wasn't a hallucination, he glanced in the direction Evan was looking, but whatever Evan had seen was gone.
When they made camp, Pinata also removed his armor, deftly pulling the leather jerkin out from underneath his shirt without taking the shirt off. When one lived for three hundred-odd years, one grew bored at times, and learned to do such unusual things. He glanced curiously at the woman in their party... he didn't know her nearly as well as he did Evan, and his suspicion that she was an Elf caused him to wonder whether she was older, or younger than he was. "So, can I buy you a drink?" he asked, offering her his flask. It was the oldest pickup line in the book -- older than me, he reflected to himself -- but there was an off chance it might work.
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