ＦＡＤＩＮＧ ＩＮＴＯ ＡＳＨ ＡＮＤ ＤＵＳＴ

[Dragonette_11]

Ｅｌｉｚａｂｅｔｈ Ａｎｎｅ Ａｒａｂｅｌｌａ

╔═════════════════════════════════════════╗
Ｔｈｉｅｆ | Ｓｅｖｅｎｔｅｅｎ | Ｉｓｔｏｔｈ
╚═════════════════════════════════════════╝

╔══════════╗

In Suelghem's
Dungeons
↽₋⇁
With Alvere
& People in
the Dungeons
↽₋⇁
Single &
No Crush

╚══════════╝

Voices could be heard from outside of the cell. Elizabeth pushed herself up into the stony, cold wall. Sniffling, an epiphany struck her like a stick on a drum; they hadn't removed her weapons from her.
Getting up, she frantically staggered towards the door, drawing out a knife with a shaky, red-splotched hand. She breathed heavily and felt her hair sticking to her face from her tears, and struggled to fit the knife into the crack between the wall and door. It was no use, however. Cursing out loud in a sudden outburst, she kicked the door, which only sent her cursing even more from pain. Angrily, she grabbed the bars of the door, as if to yell at someone on the other side. Gradually, she let go, however, and felt pain in her side. Sniffling again, she hugged herself and leaned up against a wall, trembling a bit from crying.

(Oh, Elizabeth. You're such a drama queen.)
(Sorry for the short post, a bit overwhelmed from today >.o)

[Dark.]

Pʀɪɴᴄᴇ Aᴇʀᴏɴ ᴏғ Sᴇᴜʟɢʜᴇᴍ
Currently;; Talking to the Princess| Tagged;; Evan, Ryder, Alvere(briefly), Elizabeth(briefly)

When the Princess smiled, Aeron almost smiled too. Almost. Instead he bit it back, keeping a straight face. Her smile quickly faded when she laughed, visibly distressed by her ribs. The Master Healers were here now. The pain would go soon. Happy? Pft. The Princess had yet to see him when he was happy - unless this perpetual state of grief, anger and indifference was what passed for happiness in Istoth. Then the Princess spoke again, her voice laced with sarcasm. King. A dagger of hurt richoceted around his body; and had she not turned away with guilt, it would have shown clearly on his face.

Although Aeron would never admit it, the thought of being a King terrified him. Being a Prince was one thing - he had both used and abused the position on multiple occassions - however being a King was a different kettle of fish altogether. People would expect a certain level of leadership from him - would judge his every move. Aeron wanted to run away from it all. In his mind, he'd planned at least another decade or two before he had to take the Crown. Besides his father was still King; Aeron's heart refused to let his father go.

After Aeron had finished his defensive rant, he could see that Evan was going to respond; silently thankful when the Master Healer turned up. He refused to watch as the man work, instead running his eyes down the cells of other prisoners. The Princess, The Dragon, The Captain and then The Criminal. Speaking of the latter, she seemed to be going crazy. Mildy irritated, he ignored the girls crazed antics - from where he stood he could not see the knife. Besides, Alvere stood near her cell. He could sort out the psycopath.

Aeron tilted his head back down as the Master Healer stood and left the cell. It was rare that Seulghem used the Master Healers, vowing only to use it on those who had potentially mortal wounds. All the hostages should be eternally grateful. Aeron eyed the Princess's stomach as she lifted her tunic. All signs of bruising were gone. Understandably, the Princess looked happy once again, her injuries gone. Good as new. Aeron straigtened up, resting his free hand on Widowmaker's hilt. He cleared his throat, both his face and his voice unreadable, "We're not monsters. We simply do what has to be done." It wasn't clear whether he was referring to Seulghem or himself or indeed whether he was referring to her injuries or something else entirely. Aeron's voice was calm and serious. He looked her in the eye, "Remember that."

With that he turned and took a few steps until he was infront of the next cell. Although it was only a few steps to the right, Aeron was now out of Evan's direct sight; unless she went and peeked through the bars. He was infront of Ryder's cell. The dragon. Pasting a smirk of arrogance on his face, Aeron set the torch into an empty wall sconce, so the light flickered over Ryder's cell. The Master Healers were beginning to treat her. "I must say it was a surprise to have a dragon joining us on the battlefield. Such a shame you were fighting for the wrong team." his tone was menacing, channelling all the anger he'd built up inside, "I suppose you have plenty of secrets, eh, Dragon?"

[Keriae]

◤--------------------◥
ＡＬＶＥＲＥ.
male :: royal guard :: twenty :: seulghem
tagged - elizabeth
◣--------------------◢

With the woman leaving the dungeon cells, Alvere could now turn his gaze back to the thief. He felt responsible for her, because he had given her the wound to her stomach and it seemed only right that he kept his eye on her. The Royal Guard watched as she tugged on the bars of the door and he only shook his head at her. He hadn't seen the glint of the knife but he had heard her kick the door and he could now see her through the bars, huddled up at the back.

He scoffed. He tuttered. He shook his head. However, it seemed that one of the master healers did not need his apprentice and as such the young man came up, asking permission to enter the cell and treat the inhabitant. It was at that point he spotted the blade in the young woman's hand and he opened the door and slipped inside behind the healer. He was not going to let him enter alone when he already knew how dangerous this girl could be if she wanted to be.

Alvere kept his hand on the grubby hilt of his sword. He was well aware that he was still covered in grime, but he would not have chance to change until later, when he could put on a fresh set of armour and a spare cloak - all part of the daily uniform. "Sit upright," he ordered, watching the female carefully, "then we can treat you."

[Greenleaf]

Ｔ ｕｉｌｉｎｎｏｒ Ｓ ｗａｌｌｏｗｆｌｉｇｈｔ

ａｎ ➵ ｅｌｆ ｏｆ Ｓｅｕｌｇｈｅｍ

Tuilinnor Swallowflight
257 years old
Dressed in blue shirt, dark green hunter's
tunic, brown leggings and boots as well as
a gray cloak
Armed with a bow, a dagger and a long knife
Confused and slightly wounded

T uilinnor was quite shocked, but nonetheless relieved when the other elf hesitated and finally lowered their bow, before removing their helmet to expose a full female identity. So evidently Seughem does accept female warriors, now, a rather detached part of Tuilinnor noted as he looked over the female elf, scrutinizing her; she definitely was a solider, what with her finely made weapons to her evidently combat-made armor. He was further surprised when she responded to his retort with a jab of her own.

"Aye, but I do not believe that I am quite willing to make myself bait for your army; why not use yourself if you are so desperate in luring over Istoth?" he responded with a relatively straight face, though he made his words in laughing jest. "I am Tuilinnor, by the way," he added as an afterthought.

The conversation was abruptly cut off, however, when a very unexpected heat wave suddenly rolled over them so violently that Tuilinnor staggered a bit. When he found his footing, there was suddenly smoke everywhere, and distant shouts and screams of terror were erupting from the battlefield.
He immediately rubbed at his stinging eyes, clearing them slightly from his obscured vision, and when he peered through the thick black air, he noticed the cause of the smoke; there was a dragon, a huge dragon right there in the middle of the battlefield, spewing fire from its mouth and snarling in a harsh, furious voice while Seulghem's soldiers fled before it. Tuilinnor knew that there were such things as dragons, but in all of his 257 years he had never seen one before. Wild ones were already extremely difficult to find and impossible to tame, so how on earth did Istoth get a fire drake to fight for them?!

This is evidently some sort of shapeshifter, though never before have I heard of any skin-changer with the ability to transform into such a dangerous creature, the elf conceded.

But he could afford to let himself get distracted, now; the grass around them, already so dry and brittled from the sun, was flaring up as easily as tinder; the smoke was getting so thick that his lungs were beginning to burn up, making him cough. And the forest... the very place he had lived for his entire life, the place where he had earned his living and lifestyle, was already going up into flames.
Flee this place! his mind seemed to scream, and every instinct was poised on the edge of escaping, but suddenly he remembered the female elf he had been talking to. Where was she?

As if on cue, a voice screamed, "Follow me!" and then suddenly he was running from the battlefield, following that female elf of all things. It seemed as if the feminine solider had gone mad with some sort of desperation, as she was sprinting through the burning forest's undergrowth and dodging flying debris as easily as a fleet-footed deer. Tuilinnor felt completely clumsy, on the other hand; every single one of his senses was disoriented and he felt as though he was choking on his own breath. He had experienced numerous wildfires in the woodland before, of course, but those had been caused by careless human hunters and were all very small. But this, this was dragon-fire, and it ate up the trees and the rest if the flora with a frightening ease, until it seemed that the whole world was burning. It was all he could do but blindly follow the woman.

Without warning, it seemed as if he had been punched in the back, and suddenly his quiver was on fire; he had been hit by a burning branch. He immediately dived to a patch of ground that wasn't burning and quickly rolled over, hearing the unmistakable sizzle of flames being abruptly put out, but it was too late; a shot of agony pierced through his right shoulder and he couldn't help but give a low hiss of pain as he struggled to his feet, gripping the throbbing injury.
To his surprise, when he looked up there was a small village lying right there in the burning forest, though it was in ruins; all the houses had crumbled in on themselves and the elf he had been following had darted into one of them, already sobbing with grief. Bewildered and very confused, Tuilinnor followed her, albeit more warily. When he found the warrior, she was inside the house cradling a small, broken body covered in ash, an elderly human woman crouched with her. One look at the child in the soldier's arms confirmed Tuilinnor's thoughts; the young one had already died. The female elf didn't seem to notice anything else, though, even after Tuilinnor entered the wrecked room.

But the fire was still burning on with no signs of stopping; a few more minutes and the entire house would crash upon them. Hesitantly Tuilinnor nudged the female's shoulder, unsure of what to do in this situation.

"My lady?... We need to go. This building will be collapsing soon. There's no saving the child, she's already given up her spirit to the heavens," he tried, fumbling in his efforts at comfort.

tags: Merideth

(This is so weirdly long and all ramble-y and ugh. Sorry...)

[Dragonette_11]

Ｅｌｉｚａｂｅｔｈ Ａｎｎｅ Ａｒａｂｅｌｌａ

╔═════════════════════════════════════════╗
Ｔｈｉｅｆ | Ｓｅｖｅｎｔｅｅｎ | Ｉｓｔｏｔｈ
╚═════════════════════════════════════════╝

╔══════════╗

In Suelghem's
Dungeons
↽₋⇁
With Alvere
& People in
the Dungeons
↽₋⇁
Single &
No Crush

╚══════════╝

Eyes, bright from tears, darted up to the sound of the cell door opening. There was a man whom she did not know, and assumed him as a healer from the talk she had been hearing outside of the cell. Then the other was no other than he; the one responsible for bringing her here. Elizabeth bared her teeth, but only slight, and backed away from them.

"Ask me nicely," she replied, in the same voice she had used in the battle field; strong, stern, cold, smooth. It was more of her mocking them and being plain out uncooperative than her being serious. Her hand tightened around the knife, her knuckles growing white.

[Keriae]

◤--------------------◥
ＡＬＶＥＲＥ.
male :: royal guard :: twenty :: seulghem
tagged - elizabeth
◣--------------------◢

Alvere clenched his jaw as she continued to rebel. She knew that she was a a hostage and yet she continued to throw insults at them. The poor young healer apprentice had only moved a few steps before he paused, and the Captain of the Royal Guard could see his eyes dart towards the knife. However, after a couple of seconds the youth stepped forwards - Alvere put out his arm across to stop him.

"Please, drop your weapon and sit upright so that the healer can see your wound," he replied, his tone too matching the one he had used upon the battlefield, "we wish to treat your wound but if you'd rather let it fester and rot..." Alvere touched the healer on the shoulder, a graze of his fingers, and began to lead him from the cell. If the thief truly wanted to wound to be treated - or to even have something for the pain before she died of it after hours of agony - then she would stop them. If not, he turn around at the last moment and knock her out.

Seulghem were not savages, and they always treated their hostages well and any wounds were always treated. Unlike what he had heard of Istoth. Alvere's grip tightened on his sword for a moment as they neared the cell door.

[Dragonette_11]

Ｅｌｉｚａｂｅｔｈ Ａｎｎｅ Ａｒａｂｅｌｌａ

╔═════════════════════════════════════════╗
Ｔｈｉｅｆ | Ｓｅｖｅｎｔｅｅｎ | Ｉｓｔｏｔｈ
╚═════════════════════════════════════════╝

╔══════════╗

In Suelghem's
Dungeons
↽₋⇁
With Alvere
& People in
the Dungeons
↽₋⇁
Single &
No Crush

╚══════════╝

Elizabeth sighed with a roll of her eyes, crossing her arms. "Fine," she hissed, sliding her knife back into its sheath on her belt. She did not sit however, and continued to stand. The girl wouldn't remove her weapons from her completely, however. Instead, she raised her hands above her head and clasped them behind her neck, exposing her wound and in hopes to assure them that she would not attack, maybe.

"Why me," she murmured, in a more demanding than questioning tone. Her glare met the floor, and was locked in place. She would not bear to look upon these, these beings. Licking her dry lips, she breath heavily and slowly. Her head still spun from dizziness, and she felt drowsy. Eyes blinked away cooling tears as she had forced herself to stop crying.

[Keriae]

◤--------------------◥
ＡＬＶＥＲＥ.
male :: royal guard :: twenty :: seulghem
tagged - elizabeth
◣--------------------◢

She really was a hell-cat, hissing at them as they were just about to leave the cell. Turning around, Alvere lead the young healer back over towards the hostages, rolling his eyes and letting out an amused breath through his nose. A push on the healer's back gave him more confidence and the youth stepped forwards, carefully placing his hands upon her stomach to look at the wound.

Alvere stepped up behind him, looking over the male's shoulder at the injury he had delivered. It seemed to have stopped bleeding, but it would be full of muck, which would lead the way for bacteria. It seemed the healer was thinking along the same lines as he stood upright and looked at the blonde's face.

"I need you to remove your leather corset."

Alvere sucked in a breath through his teeth. He had seen many women without anything covering them, but this was a completely different situation entirely. Swiftly, he removed his grubby cloak - there was a pair of hooked nails upon the roof. They were normally used for different purposes, but his cloak was beyond repair and as such he shoved the sharp nail ends through the material so it hung from the ceiling - she would be hidden from his view entirely. Just to be safe, he turned around so his back was to her, in case she could see his silhouette. "I assure you, miss, that I will not look upon you as you are treated." He was a gentleman, and it would be considered highly rude to watch.

[Dragonette_11]

Ｅｌｉｚａｂｅｔｈ Ａｎｎｅ Ａｒａｂｅｌｌａ

╔═════════════════════════════════════════╗
Ｔｈｉｅｆ | Ｓｅｖｅｎｔｅｅｎ | Ｉｓｔｏｔｈ
╚═════════════════════════════════════════╝

╔══════════╗

In Suelghem's
Dungeons
↽₋⇁
With Alvere
& People in
the Dungeons
↽₋⇁
Single &
No Crush

╚══════════╝

Elizabeth watched the healer carefully, making sure that they weren't trying to do anything to her. When he asked for her to remove her corset, she wasn't surprised. She was about to remove it when the other man did something that surprised her. What a gentleman, the girl thought bitterly. It didn't even matter for she still had her white blouse on under it. Shrugging slightly, she went ahead and took off the worn out, smooth leather corset. Her fingers wrapped around the ends of her blouse and only lifted it up far enough so that the healer could see the wound.

"You did not answer my question," she stated, looking back up from her stomach to the man. Yes, she was a wanted woman of Istoth, but she did not know why they would possibly want to catch her. In all honesty, if they planned to try and turn her in for the prize, Istoth would probably tell them to keep her. Sighing heavily, she looked off towards a wall with a bland, cold look in her eye.

(Agh, sorry that my posts have been sucky. Every time I start writing one, something comes up)

[Keriae]

◤--------------------◥
ＡＬＶＥＲＥ.
male :: royal guard :: twenty :: seulghem
tagged - elizabeth
◣--------------------◢

Alvere let his gaze rest on the cool steel bars of the door. He could hear the rustling of leather upon fabric behind him. It was a familiar sound, for a large part of his uniform was made of leather: his heavy coat. He could hear the healer muttering away and rummaging in his bag for whatever it was he needed. The Royal Guard assumed that it was something to gently clean the wound before he treated it with whatever he had, most likely a paste made out of healing herbs or something like that. Alvere preferred to use home-made balms - the recipes had been in his family for generations and had proved to be very good for preventing infection.

She broke into his silence, stating that he hadn't answered her question. Alvere didn't turn around. "Which one?" He replied, and if she could have seen his face she would have seen his eyebrows raise. He hadn't heard her utter a single question, so why she was telling him to answer he had no idea. Not to mention that he was the one with the power here. He heard the sound of liquid tipping within a container and guessed that the young healer was applying something to a clean cloth so that he would clean the wound effectively. Alvere himself used clean water, then applied the family balm and wrapped the wound the best he could. He was no healer himself, but he did what he could. With his current wounds, however, he would have one of the healers see to them afterwards.