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Eternal Story of Adia; Fantasy
Topic Started: 30 Nov 2008, 07:17 PM (164 Views)
The Wanderer D
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The rushing wind carried him through the dark words, his feet running as fast as they could, though the tied band around his leg was cutting his endurance and straining him more than he expected. Each breath was tied together of every step. The cracking branches of the ones he ran by, the breaking twigs that were trampled and crushed. His right hand grasping his side tightly, trying to stop the blood from leaving too much of a noticeable trail behind him. Though, what good would that do having the arrow still inside of his flesh? It was slowing him down more than the strapped bloody bandage that was around his left leg, having just a faint limp in his sprint racing through the woods. The darkness behind him though, was the only thing that seemed he couldn’t out run. Even the stare that he gave over his shoulder, seeing nothing but the stare was almost like he could. Nothing came though still, and it was probably like that now, at least, he tried to convince himself that. It gave him a moment to pause, to catch his breath as he was starting to slow down and having his back pressing against a tree bark. He hit it hard with his back from how exhausted he was; his breath just about ready to give out on him as he was trying to catch it back in his lungs and slowly dropping his head. He winched as his right hand was holding tighter to the wound. ‘…Too... Much....’ he hardly could even say under the harsh attempt to breath right now. His feet felt like they were just about to go out from under him. He had his hand come from under his coat, where the broken arrow piece was still buried in his flesh. It was getting dried barely, though even that was a bad sign. He could feel and tell that it was just barely starting to catch the infection, and feeling just the crisp along the wound and skin were the blood had dried was prove of that.

‘I... have to find.. Somewhere to hide.’ he was exhausted, his mind barely able to comprehend of what to really do. He couldn’t’ rest now, he couldn’t; knowing what was chasing him, and who they were, was enough for him to ignore this pain. He had his left hand push away the tree bark, pushing himself back to his feet and staggered for just a moment. His head didn’t raise, his eyes didn’t show… though he had them looking ahead. He took every second from there into one breath, inhaling slowly, his head rising. His hand came to the neck of the sword hanging from its leathered strap, tied to his belt, and kept it from freely moving and from getting in his way. He started to dash! Faster.. He told himself, run faster… run faster! He commanded his feet and passing through light under light of the moon’s watch, he was like a phantom to the graceful moon’s sight. Piercing through and out of the light through the many branches and leafs of the tree’s. His feet leaping over fallen trunks and branches, hurling himself over small flowing creeks that cut through the forest; dashing over them. Life around him was wakening from their slumber, seeing birds cry and cheep in distress, flocking away from the intruding presence of the man. His mind almost blacked out… he was blacking out, seeing only a blur of what was in front of him, that was even harder to see.

For a split moment, feeling that wind that was against him, that he was running through felt so comforting at first, having his eyes nearly close all the way in the comfort. And for what really was a moment, felt like eternity. The sensation at his side, and leg, the throbbing pain that was numbing his senses faster might have finally caught up to him. His eyes were starting to open by the cause of his foot stumbling, then the other. He had his arm ahead of him as he was feeling himself falling. ‘Erh.. Damn it!’, and with a grunt, he thud his head against the ground having himself losing his balance. His foot suddenly got caught under a tree root and caused him to trip. Rolling and flipping down a grassy hill and having his torso break and crash branches, hitting and thudding against tree barks that were in the way! Hitting his side! Hitting his back and every pound his body made he only grunted and growled, having his forearm protecting the right side more importantly! It wasn’t till the edge of the cliff was when his body felt free. Falling now and coming to another plain hill free from the forest and having his body flipping into a field of wild flowers. When his body collapsed finally to a stop, pedals of flowers puffed and flew from the blow of his body, and falling around him. He could barely keep even a conscious mind now.

He was so tired… he was so exhausted. His eyes were barely able to stay open. He looked through the haze of the long strains of pearl black hair that came over his face, staring up to the stars, and the stars staring straight back at him. The night’s sun, made the flowers around him have a glow to them, a certain beauty that was never touched. Being untainted, till the blood that was slowly seeping from his own wounds did just that. He was now spoiling that which exacts beauty underneath him. But what was racing through his mind, was it alright to give up now? Was it right to forever quit what he has been searching for this long? He was so tired… so exhausted. Life was slowly leaving him, to put him to rest. His eyes closed more and more. But still asking himself ‘is it right to give up? Can I give up now? Please…’ and at that moment, his body and mind, both fell in a dark hole that he wasn’t sure, that this time, he was going to be able to climb out of. He fell into unconscious state, slowly now allowing himself to rest in that wild field of flowers. He was ready… to die? He could even think of death after getting this far? And it wasn’t till the last thought crossed his mind, ‘No... I can’t... Not yet... Not yet’ He kept telling whatever it was that was just about ready to take him away from this world.
Edited by The Wanderer D, 2 Dec 2008, 08:44 PM.
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The Ice Queen
The night hung over the Ereb'Rina Forest like a blackened shroud, lit with tiny pinpoints of sparkling stars and the silvery glow of the moon that cast its light down upon the trees and green, casting an ethereal haze over the land, slightly moistened from a recent shower of rain. The dampness on the leaves and the swaying blades of grass brought the scent of nature to life; so clean and fresh to the senses.

A figure moved quietly through the trees, her body covered by a thick forest-green cloak, the hood pulled partially over her head to hide the length of her white-blonde hair. On her back was a quiver of arrows and a sturdy longbow carved and reinforced by bone and other materials to prevent breakage. Leather booted feet crossed over grass, stone, and twig with only a whisper of sound to mark her passing, which came with ease over the rise and fall of the land at such a dark hour, the glow of the moon above often times blocked by the canopy of trees. Regardless, her deep green eyes found their way through the darkness, color and shape almost clear to her despite the hour of night having taken over the land. The smell of green was like the smell of home, the calls of the moonlight animals of nocturnal natures like music or conversation had by family.

The young woman, Elven by the presence of her noticeably long ears and the way she moved with such unmistakable grace, was returning through the stretch of forest after guiding a group of travelers from the village of Dolen. They were heading south and required a guide to pass safely through the forest without getting themselves lost, as apparently they could not wait until morning to get on their way again. Though the hour was late, she only felt a small measure of fatigue after the long trek, though it was nothing a few hours of Trance couldn't negate. Perhaps if she were tired, she might have gone for convention and let herself fall into the sleep that was more natural for a Human, but tonight would likely not be the night.

There was a sound that pierced through the tranquil night air, a flapping of wings from a startled bird fleeing from its previous perch as the wildlife in one direction became noticeably silent. The cloaked woman paused in her stride, looking off in that direction before placing a slender hand on the bark of the nearest tree.

Her consciousness stretched out, sympathized with the life inside of the great tree beside her and sent feelings of warmth and understanding to it, recieving the same in turn. It was a gift of hers as one of the Feyborn, a child of green, to communicate with the Wild; if not through words then through a sense of feeling. It was how the earth made its will known to those who would listen, and she spent much of her time doing so.

Within the bark beneath her hand, she felt a sense of surprise and urgency, the wind moving through the tree and shifting its leaves and branches in an intended direction. Something unsettled the forest from there, something that was now unmoving. It also tasted something strange in its roots, a flavor unlike rain or soil. The woman's expression beneath the hood of her cloak shifted to one of thoughtfulness, her pink lips pressed softly together as she considered the meaning of the message conveyed. Speaking a silent thank you to the tree in a slow and gentle string of Elvish, the woman removed her hand and began moving herself in the direction pointed to her by the wind and branches.

What she discovered was...unexpected.

It was within a clearing of that forest, an opening with free sky and fragrant wild flowers, that Melyssan's green eyes spotted the fallen form of a man laying across the clearing. The wind blew past her in that moment, whispered messages carried through it by the trees at her back. Wounded, she heard. Blood on the earth.

Making her way towards him at a steady sprint, her eyes focused on the still figure, she kept the wide hood covering her head, masking her features from the glow of the moonlight above. She thanked the stars above that she could see in the light provided to her, examine the wounds that he had after she spotted the vivid stains of red over the grass and the flowers that had been crushed in his path. He had either run this way, or fallen, judging from the damage done to what was likely to have been his path. Kneeling down at his side, she shifted aside her cloak so as not to hinder her legs, momentarily revealing the hilt of a short sword sheathed at her left hip.

His eyes were closed, his face a mask of pain and fatigue, though the dark circles she spotted beneath his eyes, that light coating of sweat on his brow, spoke for something else entirely. The subtle catch of his breath also did not escape her notice as she leaned over him, letting her hands gently test the wound at his bandaged leg to look for broken bones aside from anything else. The blood on his body was scattered, and it was difficult to tell at the moment which were open wounds, and which might simply have been painted red after his fall. Her green eyes caught the broken stump of an arrow in his side, the smooth body appearing to have been pushed down deeper into his flesh, perhaps a result of his body having landed upon the ground as he was.

The man's body was taller than she. He would be difficult to move alone, and should she simply leave him here... Surely he would die.

He could have been a thief. A man on the wrong side of the law who had an unfortunate meeting that resulted in his wounds. Or he could have been a traveler attacked by wandering bandits. Melyssan was aware that by helping him, she would risk herself, but the young woman didn't have the heart to leave him behind.

Raising her gaze to the nearby forest, she expanded her awareness, searching. A free hand rose and began a quick but graceful string of gestures as her lips uttered words of an incomprehensible nature. But her soft voice spoke with undertones of powerful depth backing the words, as though conjuring a spell to life. In the distance, she heard the gutteral roar of a great bear calling his response to her. She smiled and turned her attention back to the wounded man, reaching inside of a wide belt pouch fastened to the leather belt her sheathed sword was strapped to, pulling out a small and narrow vial with a cork stopper pressed into the top. Inside of it was a pale green liquid, and upon tugging off the stopper with her teeth, one might have caught the faintest scent of mint. Very carefully, she lifted his body towards her lap and quietly urged his lips to part as she put the vial to his mouth and had him drink.

It was a healing concotion, meager at best, but it was a start on repairing the damage his body had taken, especially any internal wounds. Luckily, that arrow wound at his side was too severe for the potion to heal, so there was little worry that the flesh would attempt to close around the arrow, and she couldn't remove it outside of a controlled environment, for she had little on hand to deal with such a wound out in the wild.

A shifting from within the shadow of the surrounding forest caught her attention, followed by a rumbling growl, inquisitive in nature. Melyssan's eyes rose to lock onto the dark gaze of a large brown bear that was slowly stalking towards her on all fours. She sent it a welcoming smile, spoke out a string of soft Elvish as she tipped her head to the wounded man as she put the empty vial back into her belt pouch.

The beautiful beast was called to her for aid, its strength perfectly capable in carrying the man upon its back. A strength she would need if she wanted to take the man to her cottage for healing. Very carefully, she helped get the man onto the bear's back as the beast rested down low to the ground for ease, even though it was still laying at an impressive height when compared to the petite Elf. Once it rose to its feet with the man laying across its back, it began the trek ahead slowly and carefully after recieving an affectionate pat on its flanks from the woman who uttered a soft word of gratitude for its help.

Together with the great beast, Melyssan vanished back into the darkness of the Ereb'Rina Forest, leading it home to her quiet little cottage where she lived alone.
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His eyes were barely able to remain open, let alone see clearly. Every attempt just made him seem that much more tired and drained from trying. It was just going to be a matter of moments he thought before 'they' come or probably when death comes. At least he could finally rest here for a moment... just for a moment before whatever awaits him to take away his weakened state. His eyes finally did close and watching nothing but a black space, nothing more but a dark world he was ready to be devoured in to. He had chosen to give up... he had nothing left now and even though the pain had in some way numbed from his sense of feeling, he felt this thug in his heart still crying to not give in. But oddly, this smell came to him and breaking him out of this falling decent that he was starting to feel. It took probably a moment when he felt something lift his head, and for a moment, that was only a few seconds, the sapphire blue eyes seem to almost glow in their true form. The moon giving light to his eyes to see this figure in his hazed stare. It was too dark to tell, it was too hard to see and make out the figure but it was a person.

The soft glow that he saw though of what was almost like silver blond, shinned in the haze of his sight... and the hidden face that he didn't see but felt this warmth of a alluring embrace. Was it really happening already? He thought to himself, Death just couldn't wait could he... Heh, he has no patience, he whispered to himself in his already exhausted mind. He tried to move, feeling this cool liquid seeping through the small opening of his lips and just enough to part his lips a little more. It really gave this soothing feel inside of his aching muscles, the stinging of his cuts at least felt just a little less annoying than painful; even though the major wounds he had sustained were the ones that felt more numb than the smaller ones. He wanted to speak, but his lips didn't say a sound and just as quick his eyes closed as he felt the gentleness of the ground beneath him again. He breathed vaguely more noticeably now as he slowly laid his head on the side, 'I'll just... rest here... for a minute...' and finally his body gave to the tiredness, feeling that it was pointless to try and get up now since he was already dead, at least he thought. When he rested though upon the bear, without his control, a silver necklace came out of his shirt that was hidden under it and laying in the open. The man's sword as well hanged from his belt still and was quiet unique as well being a very long curved sword that was sheathed.

To the distance though after the bear carrying him and the stranger left the opening of the field, it wasn't long till there was a slow emerge from the tree's darken shadows that reached out as far as they could, being only feet away from the edge of the cliff. They had their presence hidden to the best they had managed till now when they stepped in the moon light and was able to look over the field of wild flowers. They were both hooded and cloaked under the black material that greatly covered over their faces and reached nearly down to their feet. One stepped a bit closer to the edge of the cliff were there was sign of something sliding down it. As it kneel down having its hand reach to a blade of grass where the dropping of blood was spotted. Looking through the pitch blackness over its face, it rubbed the blood under its thumb and finger.

"He did come this way..."

A man's voice came through the masked hood, looking further ahead to the bottom of the field where he saw the crushed flowers and possible resting place that the body was at. He slowly stood as the other took a quicker pace in its steps to go ahead of him. "Wait...", he spoke with a ordering tone as his arm came to stop the other from progressing. "Why are you stopping me?! He's probably still alive and not too far.", a woman's voice spoke in a snapping manner but almost pleading as well, her head under the hood to turn quickly up to him.

"We don't know that yet. He was probably just picked up...", he spoke softly as he looked over to the other noticeable trails of steps and something larger that came through. His arm dropped back under his cloak while he turned away, but the woman quickly grabbed at the man's shoulder to stop him. "Then we should just be in haste to go after him! We were ordered to--"

"We were ordered to locate him and report back... Not to capture him yet. The Master still has plans that he requires us to do before we are to attempt that again."

He explained to her while shrugging her hand off of his shoulder, having his head turned away from her and back to the forest. "Besides... I don't get why the Master still wishes to continue this anyway.....", his words spoke lightly under his breath, whispering a soft tone of what was almost like jealously though more of hatred for reasons he would only know. As he disappeared back in the woods he lastly spoke out, "We'll let the locals deal with him for now... The Master has a plan for this place... and we are to report back as soon as possible." The woman though didn't take a leave so quickly as she glanced back over her shoulder, looking over the field of flowers as she had the bottom of her face noticeable from moon. The pale red painted lips curled to almost a snarl as her snow white skin glistened in the light. She didn't want to just give up now as she felt it was so close; that she was so close. "... I will get you back... I swear it...", she spoke in a sorrowful tone as she turned away, disappearing back in the woods. And what were once there had become nothing more but phantom's now as they vanished.
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The Ice Queen
The cottage was quiet and peaceful, resting within an opening in the woods and lit by the soft glow of firelight filtering out through the open windows, the wooden shutters pushed outward to allow the comfortable breeze to circulate through the rooms. The structure itself was of common make, something you would expect to be built by the hands of a man and his family, away from the assistance of professional builders that put together castles and rich structures that had been heavily funded. A chimney stuck up from the roof slightly, releasing a soft billow of smoke up into the night air from the fire burning within.

The bear had left her long ago to return to its natural roaming grounds, leaving the openness of the area and retreating to the trees. Aside from the covered stable area to one side of the cottage, a stable that hadn't seen a horse ever since her family had all moved away, the grounds around the property were filled with scattered wild flowers, a herb and vegetable garden, and a modest well to bring up fresh water to the house. It was peaceful, but plain when compared to other homes one might see, but it was maintained by a woman on her own, a woman rarely in need of extravagance over necessity.

The interior of the house was quaint, with the entry room from the front door being somewhat large to have a sitting and dinning area before the fireplace, where a pot of hot stew was quietly cooking as it hung slightly above the flames. It filled the room with the scent of spices and cooked chicken, potatoes, carrots... There were three small rooms in the cottage, one belonging to the current owner to rest in privacy, a second serving as an area at the rear of the house with a door leading out onto a back porch with a crudely carved, yet sturdy swinging bench, the room itself holding shelves of hand-made herbal remedies and other raw materials and components for various concoctions. The third room seemed to be an additional bedroom, but was unused and hardly decorated.

Within that second room, filled with the scent of herbs and flowers, a man lay upon a cot against one wall, opposite the wall with the only closed window in the house. After a good deal of time had passed since their return, Melyssan took care with the wounded man as she brought him here, lay his body down on the cot to begin the process of seeing his wounds in better detail under candlelight. Unfortunately, that "better detail" was best achieved after the removal of some of his clothing, which would have to be washed to get the blood out, and resewn where the arrow had pierced. Living as long as she had, it made the situation somewhat easier on her being in the presence of a partially undressed man, but for the sake of both his modesty and hers, she kept his pants on, even though they were also bloodied and hiding the sight of the wound he no doubt had on one leg.

Cleansing his skin had been simple, washing away the blood with a damp cloth to see the full extent of his wounds, at least on his torso. The arrow wound at his side had an odd coloring around the torn skin, left aggravated and red after the careful removal of the arrowhead that had sunk deep. It was difficult to tell if the injury had influenced any sort of infection, but she decided she wouldn't take any chances and prepared a number of herbal remedies just in case. The rest of his open wounds were covered in a healing balm, and her gentle hands applied fresh bandaging as well, discarding what had been previously upon him.

Melyssan watched the man as he lay there in unconsciousness for a time.

His face wasn't familiar to her, and she knew she hadn't seen him in Dolen before. Aside from the random bandit scouring the night for an easy target, she wasn't certain what out danger could have been out there to hurt this man so terribly. And that weapon of his... Lyssa decided that for the time being, she would keep it in her room as a security measure. At least until she knew what had happened.

Melyssan left him for a time to rest and let the herbs and potions run their course in his body as she finished cooking a meal. It was rather late, but who knew when this man had last eaten, and whenever he decided to wake up, it would be good to have something prepared, no matter how long it took.

Without her cloak on to protect her body from the night air, Lyssa walked out of the cottage to go fetch some fresh water from the well outside.
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'What’s happened to me...?’

Asked a voice in the dark, his eyes not able to see... His ears were not able to hear a thing. Nothing came to his senses as he tried hard to keep his awareness in check slowly coming out of his coma state. But just what was going on? The last thing he tried to remember was so vague and still a blur in a way. He can only recall... a starry sky, a moon that was staring down back at him. It was so bright, and as calming as he felt himself almost laying in nothing but something. It was soft as his hand tried to feel what it was, but nothing, still nothing. He tried to look around, but it was like his eyes weren't even open, or where they? But he started to remember just this faint image of a person… the scent of flowers? Did he dream all that?

'I... I can't see anything....’

He started to mumble a bit louder as he was feeling like he was waking up from a very hard and deep sleep. But what was there to wake up to? Maybe it was better this way, just to lie in this pitch black tomb. It felt like he couldn't breath but it felt so free to fall to nothing. But when he started to get that feeling, a very fast feeling like he was falling, he quickly had his hands reaching up! Suddenly he realized his eyes snapped open and had awakened in a different place that was unfamiliar to him. He had to take a second or two to actually remember to breath. He was still alive.

He felt a sudden sharp pain coming from the side that was still soar and bruised from the arrow head that was in his side. He came to reach for it, though he felt nothing as his eyes blinked, looking down to see the well done bandage around his torso and coming over his left shoulder. ‘When did-?’ he asked himself in a very confusing expression, though as he started to turn on the cot, he had his feet rest against the floor and looked around his surroundings.

‘How… did I get here?”

It took some effort to actually push himself up to his feet, though the wound on his leg still gave this uncomfortable jolt of pain that came through the whole leg. Giving him sort of a short limp in his walk as he came to the door, leaning against the wall and quietly enough to open the door to a mere crack of an opening. His eye peeked through, seeing just where he was. He had always been cautious when he was in a place he didn’t know but this time he didn’t even know how he got here which just made him a little uneasy. He could smell the aroma in the room of food, the glow of the fire that was under a pot. Whoever was here, probably just left? He wasn’t sure just how much time had past since he might have been out cold. Though even so, he wasn’t going to try and stick around to find out.

But it didn’t take long before he realized he was missing his own shirt, he blinked down looking over himself, then over to the door again outside. There, on top of the table… and a much slower pull of the door, he took another peek out of the corner of the door’s frame to see the corner he couldn’t to the left. Nothing.

Good it was clear, he thought as he went to the table that was just in front of the fire. He sort of went just a little faster than he was supposed and felt that sharp pain again at his side as he put pressure on that side. He hissed through his clenched teeth and started to slip on the black sleeveless shirt to hide the slender and slimmed cut muscles under the bandage work and shirt. But the rest of his stuff… his sword?! Just where was it?! He kept looking around him as his hand tightly held to the edge of the chair, having his eyes hastily look around him!
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The sturdy bucket rose from the blackened depths of the well, the sounds of water trickling down to the water so far below the earth's surface. Melyssan's deep green eyes focused on the circular shape of the bucket's rim, catching the momentary glimmer of the moonlight shinning down on the rippling water's surface within. Slender hands pulled on the rope to bring the item back to her reach, the rope hooked onto the sturdy rope that served as a handle for the wooden pail. Brought up to her reach, the young woman smoothed one slender hand over her pale blonde hair before separating the item from the rope and turning away from the little stone well, holding it at her side.

With each step, the water carried within sloshed around slightly, reflecting the glow of moonlight upon its smooth surface, obscuring that glow into waving slivers of light. It was water to use should she need to make the wounded man drink again, or put a portion aside to soak a damp cloth should a fever overtake him. With all of that blood, perhaps she would need to draw up more later for a bath in the little bath house on one side of the cottage, slightly elevated so a low fire can be burned beneath the structure to warm the sturdy tub within. She had already drawn water up a bit earlier to fill a wide basin with to wash the blood out of his shirt, but had yet to get to such a thing. After going inside, she supposed she should look through an old trunk for some spare clothes that might fit him while his original garments were cleaned.

It had been awhile since there was anyone here in her home, so many years. Ever since Roland and Esmé's first daughter moved away to be married, there had only been rare visits of family members, though Lyssa often made the trek to Dolen to meet with them instead, thus negating the need for them to come here. Because of that, it was someone odd knowing that one of the spare rooms were currently occupied by someone, let alone a man.

Her ears caught the sounds of the night around her, listening to the chirping of insects and the scurrying of other creatures in the brush. The distant hooting of an owl stood out for a moment before going silent, its wings carrying it away into the forest.

Melyssan loved it in this peaceful place.

When she reached the door, her free hand reached out to push it open and go inside, and the moment the first crack allowed the firelight from within to filter out and shine across one side of her face, those green eyes slowly rose from once being downcast on the ground, and she paused, the door slowly swinging open as she stood there staring into the room within and noticing a new element that wasn't there when she had left it.

Standing near the simple wooden table resting on the side of the room near the fireplace and the bubbling pot of soup was the wounded man, his bloodied shirt put back upon his body and his hands clutching the back of one chair as his vibrant blue eyes shifted here and there, as though seeking something desperately. Such a deliberate look in those eyes... Melyssan wasn't quite sure what to make of it, but she sought not to startle him more than he might have startled her in that moment. Very softly, she cleared her throat to catch his attention. Above the soft crackling of the fire, it was not too hard a sound to notice in the otherwise silent room.

With the wooden pail of water clutched in her soft right hand, her other came up to rest upon the wooden doorframe at her side, taking a small step into the entryway. The sturdy sole of her soft leather boot tapped quietly against the hard floor as she shifted her weight slightly, one leg bent at the knee as the firelight came to glow upon her peach-shaded leg that was bared beyond the length of her layered skirt. Her oval-shaped face tilted slightly to one side, as though inquisitive, as a few strands of her long blonde hair fell over her shoulder, shifting against her cheek. Her deep green eyes scanned him for a moment before rising to meet his wandering gaze.

"I was hoping to get you into some cleaner clothes until those could be washed," she said softly, tipping her head just a bit to the soiled garments on his body. Her voice was gentle, melodious in its own way, but spoken in a manner meant to soothe, indirectly implying that the stranger had no need to fear. "You were in bad shape when I found you in the forest," she continued, beginning to explain how he came here. "I brought you here so your wounds would not kill you."

Slowly, so as not to alarm him, she took her slender hand away from the doorframe and stepped inside the cottage, turning only to slowly push the door shut as she glanced at the man from the corner of her eye. When the door was shut and latched, Lyssa turned to him and brought both hands to the rope handle of the wooden bucket and began to walk towards the table he was near, approaching the opposite side of it to lift the bucket and place it upon the wooden table between them. When it was out of her hands, she idly brushed her palms against her skirts, as though to ease the sensation of the rope biting into her skin previously.

Green eyes shifted to look up at the stranger's face.

Now that he was standing, it was easy to tell just how much taller than she he truly was. In his current state, weakened and worn, he had a rather disheveled look about him, his dark hair, shaded almost so opposite when compared to hers, seemed carelessly touseled by sleep and more. It was an interesting difference, with his hair so like the night, and hers so like the sunlight. She could spare little time to consider the random musing, however, as she parted her soft lips to speak again.

"My name is Melyssan," she introduced herself with a faintly welcoming smile. With an idle wave gesturing to the room around them, she continued, "This is my home. You're welcome to stay until you are well enough to leave. Looking at you now, though... It seems like you might need a little more rest..."

The Elf wanted to ask the stranger more. Did he still hurt, and if so, where and how did he hurt? What happened to him? Was he attacked, or was he...the attacker? She bit her tongue, however, not wanting to appear as though she were overwhelming him with words and backing him into a corner. He looked disoriented enough as it was.

Melyssan made no attempt to approach him even though she wanted to move closer and examine his wounds, make sure that the potions and healing balms she applied did their job and kept any wounds from reopening. She stood her ground on the other side of the table that separated them, unconsciously wetting her lips with her tongue as she waited for any sign that he might acknowledge any of the words she offered him.
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He was just as much startled as their eyes meet for the split of a second that they stared through the dark pearl strains of his hair. He was caught in the middle of the room and weak, he was vulnerable to the person if they would have made an attack! He softly hissed under the clenched teeth of his as he dropped to almost getting in his stance, minding the fact that he still had a straining hold on the back of the chair’s head rest. His right hand coming to his left side of his waist in almost an instinctual reaction to grab at the hilt of his sword… but his mind was still slow in catching up it seems. He didn’t wake up with his sword on him. Though as that second passed, he caught sight of her. It was… a woman but, an Elf Woman at that.

As he watched her step into the room more clearly in the light, he felt his nerves somehow relaxed while his nose caught a familiar scent. That same scent that, he remembered from when he thought he might have died. So… this wasn’t a dream then, he confirmed to himself as he slowly stood up right. He didn’t want to fright her to be honest, but his eyes narrowly still watched her. He never trusted anyone and especially strangers; his body language and just the stare alone gave proof of that while he lowered his hand away from his waist, dropping back down his side. But… her beauty that shinned by the fire’s flickering light gave him almost a calming feel in his eventful night, and probably being the first time he’s actually felt this sense of comfort. Probably because the truth is, he was never in a place that was so homey in a warm sense that gave him a different surrounding.

As she spoke out to him though, her words gave a sort of comfort to him in the end, knowing that he at least wasn’t in ‘their’ hands. He lowered his eyes though as he learned just now that it was her that helped him after all, and he probably might have scared her just now with how he reacted and stared at her; he assumed. “Th-Thank you… then, for what you did.” His voice spoke with such a low tone in his words, and was deepen as he spoke in a hesitant whisper. He took a moment though to say anything else, and especially since he felt that he had to since she did go through the trouble of taking care of his injuries and everything. His eyes rose up to hers again, though they were gentler than before, seeing a very noticeable softness to them that was almost just as calm as a nightly ocean from just how blue his eyes were in the light,

“My… My name is D.” He introduces himself as the man known as D, for just a simple letter to be a name for him was something he always heard was odd; probably more than a dozen of times from people. But the reason for that, he didn’t want to share unless it was necessary. He looked down to the table though as he caught the glint of a silver piece, being his locket as he noticed it. He looked up to her for a second then back to her as he slowly reached for it, noticing that it wasn’t covered in his blood. ‘Thank goodness I didn’t lose it…’ he was relieved to himself as he slipped the necklace back around his neck and had the silver locket tucked back in his shirt.

“I… hope I didn’t bring you any unconvinced of having to look after me though. I can take my leave now.” He spoke to her in a kind way to respect her home of course though the truth was he knew that he couldn’t stay here. She would have been aware of it as well since she did find him in a bloody mess after all, and just as he words finished he started to turn away, having his hand coming off the seat and learned that wasn’t a good idea. When he took that first step with his right leg, quickly he felt this very sharp pain over his entire thigh muscles and it made him tightly grab at it with his right hand. His body leaned against a close enough pillar in the room that he was just about to walk pass for his left shoulder to lean against. ‘Damn it!...’, he cursed just barely under his breath while he started pant lightly through his lips. He just too bothered also by this very frustrating fever that he started to feel since he had woken up but tried so hard to hide it. He wasn’t going to get out of here easily or let alone escape if the ones after him decided to show up and what will happen then?!
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DeFalco
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His name was D, and while she found it rather intriguing that his name was so simple, being that only of a single letter, Melyssan would not question it, as it was currently not her place to do so. She wanted to make him comfortable, as he had already seemed tense enough when she entered the room. She hadn't seen very many swordsman or warriors in her time, living alone and sheltered in this cottage for most of her life, but it seemed an instinctual thing, seeing where his hand had been grabbing for and bearing an understanding as to his intent.

Lucky for her, she put all of his weapons away in her room.

“I… hope I didn’t bring you any inconvenience of having to look after me though. I can take my leave now.”

His words startled her, his deep voice spoken quietly with genuine words that spoke of what concern he may have had for the situation. If he was so worried, it was a wonder what had happened to him, though the thought of what he might have brought to her as a result of all of this never crossed the young woman's mind. She had no opportunity to answer him, however, as he turned away from her to go elsewhere, and suddenly staggered over.

With a gasp, Melyssan found herself moving to him from the other side of the table, not entirely hesitant in touching him as she could only think to help him. When she was close enough, her hands went to him as an effort to assist in steadying his body as he leaned against one of the narrow beams that served as support for the roof above them. Being so close to him now, she could hear the catch in his breath, see that sweat on his brow from fever, and the soft curse that escaped his lips in light of his predicament was also clear to her sense of hearing. If he still had a fever, then the arrow wound to his side truly did do more damage than simply pierce the skin. The wound did not carry the scent of poison when she examined it earlier, so it must be just a basic infection of some kind.

"You cannot go as you are," she spoke up to him. "You look feverish, and you can hardly stand. I'd be cruel to let you leave like this."

Very gently, Melyssan attempted to pull him away from that pillar, move him in the direction of that room with the healing herbs and remedies so close at hand near that cot he had awoken from. Her hands were placed on him modestly, seeking only to assist him without misinterpretation, though beneath that worn shirt of his, she could feel the tightness of muscle. It was no real surprise to her to feel a measure of his physique, as her eyes had seen much of his upper body when brought to him, but as much as she felt a sense of hesitancy to think about it, his lower injuries had been otherwise unknown to her, unable to bring herself to compromise his modesty and hers by removing all of his clothing while unconscious.

As she led him carefully back into that room, she spoke up once more.

"Since this should make it obvious that I won't let you leave here for the night, at least allow me to get a change of clothes for you. The ones you have are bloody and just a little torn, but I can fix them." She continued as she moved him towards that cot once again. "That wound on your leg needs to be checked as well. If you are uncomfortable with me looking, however, I can give you the items needed and you can apply the healing remedies yourself, if you like."

Carefully pushing him to sit down on the bed, Melyssan reached out to brush a few of those dark strands of hair away from his vibrantly blue eyes simply to place her touch upon his brow, to measure his fever perhaps.

"Will you wait here for me?" she asked him quietly. "I brought you here to my home willingly, and 'tis no inconvenience. I'll be right back with something else for you to wear, and if you feel hungry at all, there is also food that you are welcome to." Her touch fled from him as she stood upright and left him in the room, hoping he would heed her words and stay where he was. Her steps carried her to her room were a long chest lay in one corner, heavy and quite sturdy. Kneeling before it, she opened the lid as the hinges whined from the motion required to open it and she reached inside, pulling out a few garments and placing them on her bent leg until she was done. When such a time came, she was holding a pair of dark trousers and a loose matching shirt, both of simple make, and belonging to her human father from years ago. They both seemed to be of the same build and stature, so hopefully they would be suitable for him, at least until she mended his clothing.

Closing the chest, Melyssan returned to him, letting her steps land with just enough force to warn the wounded man of her approach.
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D had looked up to this girl’s eyes and for once, they were full with such honesty and warmth that he wasn’t sure just when the last time he saw something like that. Let alone, just someone that’s going out of their way to help another. “Well, I guess I should thank you then. I do appreciate what you’re doing. And my leg isn’t that bad I can attend to that myself.” He softly spoke to her, never really having the need to speak to anyone unless necessary. But why was it so hard for him to just try and say something properly and not feeling like the way he was feeling? Which he couldn’t really describe or explain either, and just probably made it a little easier to push it aside.

He thought as she walked out, that he just probably been in that cursed place he came from for too long to notice people outside that place. ‘Why… is she doing this for me?’, he wondered for just a moment till his attention went back down to his clothes, noticing that he probably could use a different change of attire. The ruffle look though was just something he was use to and never really bothered to care for his attire till the fact that she brought it up. He did after all look like a person just off the streets in town that he sometimes found to be just common beggars or thugs. She might have felt a little uncomfortable with his appearance maybe? He slide out of the black sleeveless shirt of his, and tossed it to the end of the cote, having himself softly hissing as his hands came to the black bandages that he had done for his leg hours ago. It was just a little loose he figured and started to undo the ripped black cloth that was part of his scarf, which he had misplaced somewhere in the woods.

He had his hand rubbed over his forehead as everything that happened was just slowly starting to return to him finally. He still couldn’t escape the worry of probably being found here but honestly… he just really liked that scarf and was long gone by now. In his pocket though, his hand pulled out a palm size ball that was wrapped up in a thick leaf and inside was a ball of what was mashed herbs and mud that was his personal mix of healing herbal medicine especially for cuts. The fact in the matter was just that he didn’t have the time to apply when he was being chased and it’s not like he was given the chance. He simply mush the ball in his palm of his hand and applied it through the open material of his leathered pant leg and into the wound, making him just softly growl from the pain and sting he felt.

When he was finished, he took the same bandage again to wrap over it. Though just when he finished, he heard her coming to the door. His eyes shifted to her as he watched her come to sight in the opening and rose up to her, with his hands coming to hers that carried the cloths. Taking them in his hands while his slide just lightly beside her palm from under them, he quickly withdrew and just grabbed the cloths a little quicker. He looked away from her eyes shifting down to the side. “Uh, you don’t have to do this… I don’t wish to take your significant other’s clothing without his permission.” he assumed as he noticed that it was men clothes of course and just thought he would at least show politeness to her actions of helping him. His eyes though didn’t try to meet with hers too often being that he just never had this much of a social contact with people. He was always a little awkward at moments like this and even more so now, as he tried to keep his posture steadier than he showed earlier when he felt the fever get the best of him. He was just trying to keep himself together in front of her and not display the weakness of himself right now to her.

But with a soft sniff in the air, he noticed something odd as he blinked and looked over and pass her. “Uh… I think…”, he pointed over to the pot as he noticing it almost bubbling over but noticed more of the slight burning he could smell in the air, “…the food’s starting to over boil…” The sound of it also was getting louder as it was boiling faster over the fire.
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She came upon him when it seemed he were in the process of examining that leg wound of his, but he stood to approach her and take the items of clothing from her hands, which she noticed was rather hasty. His words following provoked a rather startled expression from Melyssan's face as he seemed to assume that her life was bound to another's. Before that surprise could give way to the look of humor she wanted to give in her inevitable response to those words, however, he mentioned something about "food", and her senses took over, catching the scent of the food in the air. A meal that was currently becoming hotter than it should be.

She released a soft curse, something in Elvish by the sound, and quickly turned away from him to go out into the main room. The young woman figured he would either follow, or stay in that room to consider his course of action with the dark-colored clothes she had left him with.

Grabbing a nearby rod of sorts made of iron, the end curling in a type of hook, she reached it into the fireplace to tug on the iron rigging within that the boiling pot was danging from near the heat. Pulling it away from the fire and out over the hard stone floor beyond the fire nearby, her green eyes gazed down upon the bubbling food as she set that rod aside and picked up a wooden ladle hanging nearby. As she stirred the contents of the black pot to look at the condition of the chunks of carrot, potato, and chicken within, the golden broth began to bubble less and less after removed from the heat.

"Sticks..." Melyssan said quietly, her words spoken in Common but something of an innocent curse, lacking the vulgarity that came with the more tasteless curses in the world. The potatoes looked just a little overdone, softer than they were supposed to be, along with the carrots.

With a sigh, she straightened her posture and and idly rubbed the back of her neck with one hand. Without turning completely, she looked back towards that room to see if he had remained inside and called out to him.

"You really have no need to worry about the clothing," she reassured him despite her thoughts on the meal, wanting to correct him before he got the wrong idea and let it all make him more nervous than he seemed. "There's no one here but me, and it's been that way for quite a few years. Those clothes don't really have an owner anymore, so..."

The Elf began to move around the room, going to an old wooden cabinet to pull out some sturdy wooden bowls and deeply carved soup spoons so she could serve the meal in two portions and let them cool.

"'Tis only a temporary thing," Lyssa continued softly. "Whenever you do decide to go on about your business, I'd rather not send you out in bloody clothing, that's all. And I can wash the blood out for you tonight and hang them to dry. With the wind, they could be dry by morning if you are still adamant about leaving. The holes in the cloth don't need to be stitched if you would prefer to let the wind circulate," she finished up with a tiny laugh.

Her thoughts drifted back to the possibilities of what had happened to him, but she shook her blonde head to think of something else as she carefully scooped up some of the soup into each of the two bowls, the heat radiating off of the broth with a rising steam. It had been quite awhile since her hands prepared a meal for someone other than just herself. Melyssan supposed she should feel nervous, even worse at the fact that the ingredients were slightly over-cooked due to the distractions that had stolen her attention here and there since she first put it over the flame to boil. Having someone to care for in her home... Someone to fill one of those empty rooms...

It was rather nice, despite the circumstances.
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