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A Black Jewel has obliterated the longstanding Eyrien rulership of the Territory. As the Rihlanders begin to reclaim their homeland they do so under the stern gaze of their "savior". Three separate peoples struggle to both claim their own identities and become a unified nation, but old hatreds are difficult to shed.
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Author Topic: hear the whispering of the wind  (Read 341 times)

Description: andrei

Offline Tanith Eirsdottir

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hear the whispering of the wind
« on: Feb 10, 18, 12:15:50 AM »
In truth she was exhilarated, though she was perhaps a little nervous as well. Tanith did not, as a rule, carry much on her. The only things she kept on her were near and dear, small trinkets that could aid her as a Godi and as a Priestess. It was a blessing, in this case, as she was having to gather up what was left of her things in her old home because she was moving to Scythia and to be with Kibeth there.

The joy that suffused her entire being was something she could barely contain, even Jerbear lighter on his feet for the shared feeling between them. His muzzle pushed against her side, Tanith tumbling in exaggeration and laughing. "Careful!" she chided him, arms going around his head when he lowered it to nose at her. The sight of a young woman on the ground, a giant white bear with his face pressed to her, was probably odd to those that did not live in the area.

It was expected for those that had called this part of Vykrov home for the past five years. The giant bear had a travel pack thrown across his back, what little Tanith was bringing with her in the bags, and clearly nonplussed about the entire thing. A little rumble escaped the bear's chest and Tanith huffed.

"Don't take that tone with me," said Tanith as she plucked herself up the ground and looked down the worn path through the woods they had come from. "I know you are going to miss these woods but the ones where we're going are even better." Not that that seemed to appease her bear companion because another rumble escaped.

"You're just sad because you will not be able to see papa Tyr and get whatever scraps from him that he saves just for you." The Priestess was absolutely onto her bonded animal companion. Never mind that she thought nothing of the fact that this scene could be seen as weird. It was, for her, absolutely natural.

Offline Andrei Elbremov

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Re: hear the whispering of the wind
« Reply #1 on: Mar 14, 18, 04:23:47 PM »
It was a pleasant sort of walk from the landing Web to Tyr’s home, which Andrei took with his hands in his pockets, a cigarette lit, and the wind teasing at his unbound hair. He greeted no one, not even the people who greeted him, because he did not wish to speak with strangers. Speaking with strangers meant getting drawn into tedious small talk. Andrei nearly rolled his eyes as he imagined what awfully droll subjects the people out here considered fine conversation.

Andrei risked crossing into such boring lands for the man, the myth, the legendary skald known as Tyraz Madsen, called Tyr by many. Named after one of the aspects of the All-Mother, the facet of Her dedicated to war. How amusing for a skald, a man who hardly took up arms, to be named after such. But then again, Andrei mused, there battles to be fought through the delicate but equally eviscerating exchange of words. And Tyr was trained in that. It was one of the reasons why Andrei enjoyed conversations with the old man, far more than any conversation he ever had with his own father, and it was high on the list of reasons why Andrei was visiting today.

The sun had just turned his black coat uncomfortably hot when Andrei crossed the perimeter of Tyr’s territory. There was a great bank of trees, the boundary of thick woods at the edge and normally, Andrei would have failed to more than a passing glance at it. Except that today, there emerged a young woman.

With a giant white bear at her side.

Andrei immediately stopped. Too far away to gauge the identity of the woman yet, he focused instead on the threat that was the bear, watching as the bear pushed roughly at the woman. He could not hear what sound she made in reply but it could not have been a good one.

Did he honestly have to be the hero today?

The answer was yes because as much of an asshole as Andrei was to many, he was not a coward and not without a reverence for life. Shielding with his Red, he strode purposefully forward, not charging recklessly as some might, his fingers spreading as he began focusing a power bolt into each palm, ready to strike. “Run!” he shouted to the woman. If she could get just a few feet of distance between her and the bear, he could strike without worry of harming her instead.

Offline Tanith Eirsdottir

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Re: hear the whispering of the wind
« Reply #2 on: Mar 14, 18, 09:57:14 PM »
Tanith stilled, fingers frozen in the motion of having been reaching to scratch at Jerbear's face. A whisper from the Darkness, the swell of Red, and even before she turned around she expected someone pulling upon their jewels and curling power within their hands. Blood Opal shields went up immediately - around the bear and herself - layering one over another in quick succession, as she stretched out her senses further to see what it was she was meant to be running from.

What danger was she missing? The Darkness was not normally so quiet, not when she was a favored child and so attuned to the world around them that the All-Mother had influenced and carved into existence. Yet there was nothing about that was out of place, Tanith having moved into a more protective stance. Jerbear was shielded behind her, a hand resting upon his fur and fingers curled into it.

"I do not sense anything," replied Tanith, "so I am not sure what I am meant to be running from?" Familiarity plucked at her senses about this male, she should know him, but her attention was elsewhere. Looking for hidden dangers or something else that was missed. Her eyes flicked to the power bolts in hand and then the way that he approached. Tanith's fingers tightened in Jerbear's fur and she moved more in place between the male and her bonded animal. Most knew that within this forest was a Priestess who walked with a white bear in her footsteps but it was possible ...

"If those are meant for Jerbear," there was a whisper from the Darkness; the male was a Prince, "Prince, then I would ask that you please disperse them. He is not a danger to me." As if in response to that, the giant bear let out a huff and collapsed to the ground on his paws (kicking up a small dust storm in the process). "To strike at him is to strike at me."

Tanith was, by no means, a small young woman (not when she was nearly six foot) but most would look like such compared to a bear. Her fingers slid through the white fur of her companion, the tip of a finger brushing against the cut of Blood Opal that he wore clipped to his ear. In that moment, as she looked at the male with the flowers within her hair and the earthy clothing she wore, she looked more like a being of the forest. Most importantly, however, was the look in her eyes.

The bear laid down at her side was not dangerous but she could be.


Offline Andrei Elbremov

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Re: hear the whispering of the wind
« Reply #3 on: Mar 22, 18, 09:47:32 PM »
She didn’t run.

Of course she didn’t run. Foolish girl! Why did witches always insist upon questioning a male’s command? Andrei watched as she held her ground, and the bear remained uncharacteristically sedate beside her, as she addressed him. He did not fail to notice the way her hand curled into the animal’s fur. Nor did he miss the way the woman interposed herself between Andrei and what he was certain was her attacker.

Something was not right about the situation at all.

Though she said that the bear was no danger, Andrei was still very, very long in retracting the power bolts gathering in his palms. There was an eternity stretching within that span of heartbeats, as his dark eyes moved from girl to bear and back, reassessing the situation. Was the woman telling the truth?

The bear -- a great white beast that was surely not from this Territory -- laid down, looking as unthreatening as possible. The woman remained rooted in place. Andrei eventually closed his hands and straightened. His stance became less ready to attack and more cautious. His Shields remained in place. For the moment. The fact that the bear did NOT behave like a wild animal was the deciding factor. There was something to be discovered here, something that he did not understand.

So Andrei focused on the woman protecting the beast. At first glance, he did not recognize her, with her wreath of flowers, her pauper style of dressing. She looked like a homeless forest nymph. Andrei prepared to pass critical judgement on her, casting her into a category of the mentally insane wildlings that preferred savagery to civilization.

And then, his charcoal gaze settled on her face, on the curve of her jaw, the bridge of her nose, the color of her eyes. And he was thrown back a decade ago, to a winter not long after he had received his bloody Red, when Eyriens had unexpectedly and violently descended upon a moot, decimating the gathered Rihlanders.

The woman before him faded. The girl he had protected that day appeared.

“Tanith?” he whispered, shocked beyond words to say or do much else. The memory, the visage left him momentarily unguarded and emotionally vulnerable -- two states that Andrei did not normally exist in. If the woman commanded the bear to attack, he would be eviscerated easily.

Offline Tanith Eirsdottir

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Re: hear the whispering of the wind
« Reply #4 on: Mar 25, 18, 01:35:54 AM »
Familiarity plucked at her senses, telling her that she should know this Prince but it was not something Tanith could explore. Not now, not until those bolts were called back within and returned to his warren of power. The particular feel of darker jewels, the ebb and flow of Craft, was always something she delighted in feeling.

It was an intimate thing, after all, the connection between each individual and the Darkness. The All-Mother had blessed this male, truly, with his dark jewels and his appearance. Her second mother would likely criticize because he was an Eyrien but Tanith often had no such qualms. As long as there was no dispute, she did not care about the Eyriens. It was when they sought to fight, to subjugate, and to harm that she too offense.

Sometimes there was too much of her father in her.

Tanith went still, wheat-colored eyes focusing entirely on the Prince as he said her name. It was then that she truly took notice of him, the way he stood and that stance he had just had previously ...

"Andrei?" Her voice was a quiet whisper. The Prince that had saved her so many years ago on what was, for her, the worst day of her life. Tanith's fingers shook before they closed tighter against Jerbear's fur. He looked just as lost as she did, both of them whisked away to the memories of a horrible day. That, she decided, would not do. Instead she was a flurry of motion, her Blood Opal shield dropping as she ran forward. Tanith practically launched herself through the air, right at Andrei and threw his arms around his neck.

The only thing that was potentially going to be a problem was that Tanith might hug him to death. There was no speaking, not anything more, because all she could do is hug the Prince who had been with her in one of the darkest moments she had ever known. After all, the somber and quiet Priestess he had rescued was not what was hugging him now. She had grown past the horrors for all that they still lurked in memory.

Offline Andrei Elbremov

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Re: hear the whispering of the wind
« Reply #5 on: May 03, 18, 01:37:48 AM »
The screams of panic. The cries of bloodlust. The ash choking the air. The burned and bloodied bodies. The flurry of dark wings attacking. The little girl clinging to him as he ran. Ran as fast as he could, Shielded in Red. Never as scared then as ever before. Grabbing whomever he could and pulling them to safety. 

That little girl was clinging to him now, in the present, but so much had changed. The air was sweet, scented with clean grass and tree leaf. The sun was bright, unobstructed by dark wings bringing death. And the only sound he could hear was the wind, rustling softly in her hair.

“Tanith?” he repeated, even though he knew it was true. The memory of that awful night was visceral. He remembered the scents, both physical and psychic, as well as the voices, and hers was embedded like a Blood Opal splinter into his mind. Woodenly, he put his arms around her, to steady himself and her weight now against him.

Most people would not have lost contact with someone they had saved. But even if they did, there was a bond between, inexplicable and sharp, that could not be broken. It was seared upon their being like a brand. They may be incompatible as lovers, better off as acquaintances, but they would, forever, be entwined by those events. This, Andrei knew, and he did not regret losing contact with Tanith at all.

He struggled now with grasping the forced return of a memory incarnate, holding on to him and reminding him of things he wished he could forget.

While his asinine defenses tried to restore themselves, Andrei shifted Tanith back to the ground so that he could look at her. “You have grown,” he stated, as lame as it sounded. He said it only because his mind was trying to reconcile the passage of time between memory and now. His dark eyes fell upon her Jewel. “And Descended,” he added, his voice low as one finger gently traced the curve of Blood Opal hanging from her neck.

Then, his dark eyes flickered to the great white beast behind her. “A companion?” he inquired dubiously. Surely not one of the fabled Kindred. They were myths. And yet, this bear did not behave like a truly wild animal should in the presence of easy prey. A pet then? Who dared make a pet out of a bear? His narrowed eyes flickered back to hers. “What manner of Craft is this?” he asked, confused and, with it, defensive, for ignorant was not his preferred state of being, especially since he had just been previously rendered emotionally unstable.