Blood

For out-of-game events, wrapping up in-game adventures and rumours.
Vogelens
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Joined: Mon Jan 18, 2016 1:43 am

Blood

Postby Vogelens » Sat Mar 11, 2017 11:05 am

The hunter's arrow struck Kara's shield with a thud. It was no suprise this man tried to kill her, tried to hunt her. He was one of many who tried to earn favour with the Beastlord and get the kill, though this one tracked her down even in the deeper parts of this forest. The hunter tried to ambush them, like so many tried before, but keen senses of woman and wolf companion at her side saw through it. He was young, this man. He was barely a man even, still lingering in the twilight between boy and man Kara figured. But did it really matter? He was out for her blood and attacked her, like so many other hunters did.

Another arrow was released at her and Kara raised her shield slightly to catch the projectile in it with another thud. Her eyes narrowed at the hunter in the brush and Melion, her wolf companion snarled out. Both woman and wolf moved to intercept the archer before he could release another deadly shaft. It was not another arrow Kara had to worry about however, as a roar came from her flank, and the woman was only barely ablew to turn her form and raise her shield against the large form that laid in waiting there.

A large beast, a mix between cat and hound crashed against the wooden shield and knocked the breath out of Kara. The world spun and before she knew it she felt something hitting her in the back, something hard and damp. It took a delayed moment for realize the ground did not hit her, but she hit it, and fallen prone before a beast of Malar is one of the worst positions to be in right now. At least there was the small mercy that the beast prevented the hunter to get a clear shot, but that was hardly any consolation as the hunting beast prepared to pounce at her again.

The large cat-like predator was pounced upon before it could move in to Kara, as Melion came to her aid. The wolf's sharp fangs went for the beast's throat and against any other beast it would have been fatal... But not this predator. Hunting beasts of Malar have thick skin and are not easily wounded. Kara did not hesitate as her companion opened up this opportunity and the woman scrambled up to lunge at the beast as well with the spear she was carrying.

Kara was never seen as a physically impressive woman, nor was she any warrior. But despite that and despite the thick hide that beasts of Malar may have, the spear pierced its hide almost effortlessly and allowed Kara to impale the predator. Of course, most of the lack of effort should be credited to the spear that Elhokar lent to her to deal with these beasts, but such reflections did not belong in the heat of battle.

Kara pulled the weapon back to jab at the beast once more, causing it to screech out in pain. It was a bloodcurdling screech that caused Kara's hairs to stand upright and for Melion to flinch and recoil away from the beast. The lurking hunter saw this as an opportunity and released an arrow at the wolf. It was a good shot, or it would have been if the woman and wolf did not work as well together as they did. Kara was already in the way of the arrow, to catch it with her shield while the wolf regained his composure and rushed at the hunter that shot at them. Kara turned slightly to the beast of Malar. The cat-like predator was flailing on the ground, and Kara jabbed the spear in the throat to finish it off. She left the thing to its deathspasms as she turned to the archer as well now.

The man.. Or the boy.. Was already occupied by Kara's canine friend. The wolf had his fangs in an arm, and though he caught only the cloth of a sleeve and perhaps some leather of protection underneath, the hunter was unable to launch anymore arrows as he struggled to get his hand back. He dropped his bow and reached for a knife, though before he could stab at the wolf Kara was on him already. She slammed her shield against the man, and while she did not have the strength to make it lethal or even an impressive attack, it distracted him. Melion let go of the sleeve and bit into a leg during the distraction, to topple the man over and bring him to the ground.

The man tried to reach for the knife he had dropped in the fall, but Kara was a step ahead of him and the thing was kicked away, out of reach. He spat in Kara's direction, before he reached for his venom-laced words. "The Hunt will-- Ghaaah!"
Kara's boot came crushing down on the man's hand, interrupting his speech with an almost sickening, bonecrunching sound and the hunter's cry of pain. The woman frowned down at the man and finished his line of thought. "..Come for me. You are right." It was already known and made all too obvious by her past encounters in the wilds. Kara's frown remained, even as she slowly removed her boot from the man's hand. He quickly brought it to his chest to cradle the broken thing with his other hand. It was broken, badly broken even. Kara may not be a strong person, but the full weight of a person was still enough to shatter many of the small bones in it. She knew that much, and she had intended to shatter the hand. She stepped back, though Melion remained close to the man still and loomed over him with his fangs bared to make sure he did not try anything funny. That was the last thing on the hunter's mind though, nor would he be in any state to try anything.

Kara's frown remained, even as she lowered the spear a moment to toss the man a small pouch, taken from her belt. "Against the pain." She had used those herbs plenty of times before with her own injuries, the lasting ones and otherwise to dull pain. This hunter needed them more than she did, right now. She was not there to torture or torment, she merely had to disable the hunter, premanently. Killing him was likely easier, but enough blood had been spilled already. She was trying to find those who did not like bloodshed, after all. The hunter was given mercy, a mercy he would not have given her. She wondered briefly what the Lion would think of it. Or the antlered half-elf, for that matter.

Kara frowned briefly as she eyed the tip of the Lion's Spear she held, the tip coated in blood from the Beastlord's predator. She then looked back to the man, befgore speaking up once more. "You will not be able to use that hand to hold a bow anymore. Do not even try, even after it has healed. Find another trade, or not." Kara did not care about it either way, she had to admit. "But leave me, my friends and my forests alone. Now go!" The woman barked at the man, who grabbed the pouch of herbs and tried to get away as quickly as he could, his tail tucked between the legs. If he had a tail he would at least, but his posture was the same right now, regardless. Curious that she saw them almost as rabid dogs now, due to how they act.

A sigh was released by Kara, as she brushed the spear along her shield, to break the shafts of the arrows stuck in it, and discarding the projectiles meant to kill her. She then looked at the slain beast of Malar, and to Melion. After some silent praise in the form of a few chinscratches, Kara led the way further into the forest with the wolf trailing after her. She was not after the hunter and his death this day. Nor was she after spilling the blood of worthy predators. No, the forest would receive a different tribute, this time. And she was still alive to offer it. She could not help but wonder how many of these fights and hunters she could still survive, though...
Last edited by Vogelens on Sat Mar 11, 2017 11:16 am, edited 3 times in total.
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Kara Farrowwood ~ Druidess of Silvanus

Vogelens
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Honey and Milk

Postby Vogelens » Sat Mar 11, 2017 11:08 am

Kara scanned the surroundings around the circle of mushrooms, to ensure no hunters were near. She was getting tired of the ambushes. Many were sloppy and too bold and reckless. It was to be expected, but it is not how one will survive. She would have done so much better in their shoes, Kara realized. But, she also admitted she was glad for the recklessness of these hunters, it did work in her favour and ensured her survival.

With the surroundings clear, the woman got out of the bushes she used as cover and approached the circle of mushrooms. It was her destination this day, at least.. One of many. Melion remained near, though not too close. The wolf took up his role as a sentry for now, while allowing his alpha to do her work. Kara stopped near the circle, and kneeled down near it. A few long moments passed as she watched the fungi, though she had more purpose than simply observing them. A purpose that was taken from her satchel soon after.

Kara set out a wooden bowl and poured the milk into it. The sweet scent invaded Kara's nostrills quickly, a sweetness that came from the honey she mixed through the milk. Lastly, a load of fresh bread was set besides the bowl of honeyed milk, to dip into it. Kara took a slow breath, and spoke up in a tongue not often associated with her. Kara communicated more with beasts, where growls and snarls were the way to go. But this tongue was almost lyrical, and as mysterious as the other tongues she knew if not more so. "A tribute, to the forest spirits." The words sounded, in the lyrical tones of Sylvan. "My name is Kara, and I ask for an audience with you."

A long, silent moment was left to pass after the words, and Kara rose up to back away again. She would wait, after rejoining the wolf. At a distance though, while trying to find the mix of not hidden but also not invasive either. Kara was not sure what to expect, if anything. The forest spirits, or fey in some tongues too, did not like those who spill blood like she does. Or like she did, perhaps? And besides that, fey were rare in this land. But an effort was made, and that was what she could do at least. And perhaps their pressence may be rare, rare does not mean absence.

Kara would remain patient and wait a good while before moving on, should nothing happen. On to the next circle of mushrooms, to repeat the small ritual once more. And with another circle, if needed. And another..
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Kara Farrowwood ~ Druidess of Silvanus

Vogelens
Posts: 138
Joined: Mon Jan 18, 2016 1:43 am

Water

Postby Vogelens » Mon Mar 13, 2017 3:04 pm

"There she is! Look out though, she is still dangerous. Many who came before us have fallen already." The hunter warned to his companion. Two hunters who stalked the brush where Kara passed by, with the intention to draw blood. Like all the ones that came before them. Kara spotted them ahead of time, their ambush was not as hidden as they likely had hoped. No time was wasted, and with the hostile intention of the men clear she was upon them before they could react. The spear Kara was given to borrow in these times of lost wandering, as well as the fangs of the wolf at her side made short work of the men. For as strange as the wilds felt to her now, there was at least something familiar in the spilling of blood, Kara had to admit to herself. Perhaps almost comforting, like a warmth in the coldest of winter days. Kara would not lament the loss of these hunters, nor the blood spilled upon the forest soil.

Death was part of the wilds and the cycle of life and death, though she was not certain what to feel about finding some enjoyment in it. An elated feeling of surviving the Hunt once more, and to outlive those who were after her life. The Hunt was wearing her down slowly, she realized that grim fact. Sooner or later they may get the better of her but even without favour, she was still a wolf. She would show her fangs to any hunter who would try their luck, until her very last breath.

As the day passed on, Kara made her way to the first of her destinations. The Whitsome Bridge, as it was called. A place she passed by many times without a second thought, but today she had purpose there. Melion, her wolf companion, made his way to the riverbank to lap at the water as Kara glanced about their surroundings. "Sometimes higher and sometimes across the streets." The fey do enjoy speaking in riddles, but the answer could easily relate to a flooding river Kara figured. The woman cast a glance back towards the road and the abandoned wagon on the flooded part of it in the distance. In a sense, it could serve as a human home, seen from the road but disregarded by everyone.

Kara let her canine friend go about his business and get some rest at a comfortable spot as she made her way around the small settlement. She may no longer hunt as she once did, or for the same reasons, but in ways she still was a hunter. She knew how to track and find a quarry, and this is what she set about doing along the riverbank. Kara looked about for traces or hints of a pressence not quite human, or other oddities to most humans in the wilds. None of the people of the settlement were about at the road, but she could question them later.

After her initial search, an offering of honeyed milk and fresh bread was set along the shoreline of the river, while she called out in a strange tongue, one alien to humans and that might make one think of laughter, song and dance. While not being able to fully grasp the complexities of the Sylvan tongue, Kara made her intention clear as she spoke up, along the river. "Lady of the Water. This one is called Kara, and I seek to speak with you. If you can hear me, Spirit of the Water, I ask for a meeting. I am sent here by Ezekiel." After letting that name fall, Kara would wait. The same words would be spoken near the wagon as well, the 'human house' as it may be seen as, just to make sure.

Even when she walked the path of the Hunt, Kara realized patience in stalking a prey was required. While she was not quite stalking, nor seeking a prey, she did practice that patience as she waited near that river...
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Kara Farrowwood ~ Druidess of Silvanus

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Obsidian Sea
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Re: Blood

Postby Obsidian Sea » Mon Mar 13, 2017 3:22 pm

'Tis strange to seek the Fey: a strange quest, surely, but also it might allude to some strangeness in the mind as well. Humans who believe in the Fey are thought of oddly in Impiltur, where the Fey simply seem not to live. What's more, to think that such mystical beings might exist and hold communion with men? Such thinking tips beyond folly into outright lunacy some might say. But it is no Moonmaiden's tale that Kara Farrowwood embarks upon.

Leaving the proximity of Filur, it is at the Whitsome Bridge that Kara Farrowwood first finds herself chasing the realities that live within the tinkling and laughing and dancing and thrilling syllables spoken by Ezekiel. On this journey she found herself strangely unhindered at first: Impiltur was not a nation abundant of Malarites and all across Faerûn there were other hunts to be had. But no animal stirred to acknowledge her now - certainly not as an ambassador for the land, for she was no longer that - but not even the inclination of a nearby foe roused the predators. It was as though she were invisible. The warm green glow of the Flower Jewel yet lingered in her memory. It was when that left her that some of the few remaining Malarites had picked up the trail of her.

But that was history now. Blood in the earth, and upon her hands; and drying on the muzzle of Melion.

At the Whitsome Bridge, Kara Farrowwood receives no reply from the water.
Heomar Bloodstone

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ljuslek
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Acorn

Postby ljuslek » Tue Mar 14, 2017 12:16 am

Elsewhere another woman whiled away fleeting morning hours in a place most familiar but strange still. After an absence lasting many moons much had changed, soil that had lain dormant beneath heavy snowcrust was now black with the promise of life. And it was amongst this wealth that Aleira found herself knelt low, in loam upturned by heavy winter footsteps; her thick padded leggings already soaked through at the knees. A sure sign of earth with the promise of life within it. Soon earthworm, ant and beetle would thrive here among mycelium and humus, green would come again and fade as well it should. That much was certain. But it was not to see the wonders of spring stir that she had come there, to the crossroads where The Oak had given her guide. No, she had come to pray. Not for the birds or the squirrels to hear but for The Oak to listen and perhaps lead her once again. For a fourth and a final time, a final journey from the lowlands on the fringes of Outentown to the mist of the mountains that claimed the horizon along with the light of rising sun. The place so rarely seen, the place where this triumphant spring had been wrested from the clutches of ancient secrets of stone and oak both. The words came again and again without passing the ranger's lips, familiar words that begged a wind to blow her just like before to that grove where a tree impossibly tall stood watch over all the others, over all that was green and wild.



"When the sapling grows tall enough to flower, who will be there".
So came the first words of prayer to her mind, as a question. A short distance behind came the answer.

"All that has lived and died neath your branches. All that has lived and died to seep back into the soil from which oaks grow".

Then fingers against soil, sifting through threads of long forgotten life that were busy as ever building the same anew.

"All comes from that soil, yet everything forgets. Everything forgets until early spring when briefly the memory comes, the memory of green".

Aleira's eyelids drew closed as the plea to the forest father reverberated through her mind. Again and again.

"Guide me there again, to the end of the old trail Fanara loved so well. Guide me so I may aid the planting of an acorn neath your branches
".


With silence reigning once again Aleira let her fingers lift and the near black soil fall from them, she had planted three acrorns already. Those near ancient memories of the druidess Fanara, one lay there before her. In one shape or another, rotted or sprouting into a sapling? It mattered little which. If her plea was heard, if guide was given then there would be many more trees to grow from saplings into bloom. Hand still stained with dark earth raised further then, to clutch the wooden symbol of Silvanus that hung from her neck. Would her plea be heard? Could she fulfill the promise she gave a druidess she once loathed? The promise to aid her find a way towards the pursuit of life sprung from green instead of crimson.

Vogelens
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Joined: Mon Jan 18, 2016 1:43 am

Water II

Postby Vogelens » Tue Mar 14, 2017 7:00 pm

Kara put a foot on the body of the woman to pull the spear out of her. A young woman, impaled by a spear through her leg, only to have her throat torn out by the wolf who accompanied the woman who she thought was an easy quarry. The young woman was a good shot, Kara had to admit. Had the winds been more favourable, she may even have been able to kill Kara. A grim thought, as the woman leaned lightly against the spear. She watched her would be killer for a moment as she regained her own breathing and composure. It had been a long day, Kara and Melion had been travelling many miles to follow one of Impilitur's rivers in her search.

Her search, one to find a water spirit. It took her all the way here, on the ascend of one of the mountainranges in the land. What did travellers call this road? The Pilgrim's Path, she believed. The woman frowned, as she turned her gaze towards the rushing water nearby. Her eyes followed it upwards along the ascend as she gazed into the distance. Kara knew there was an abandoned home along the road, near one of its waterfalls. It would be her first stop, it matched the description she received from the creature called Ezekiel, the Filur Fey.

Kara flicked a glance to the dead huntress before her once more before setting off again in search of an elusive Water Spirit, all the way to the birthing place of this river if need be if that is what it would take..
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Kara Farrowwood ~ Druidess of Silvanus


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