Children of Oberon

[Sniper21]

Plot: In Titania's Woods, the Fair Folk make their home. Faeries, fauns, nymphs, and dryads; elves, minotaurs, witches and trolls - the Third Race reside in a land outside of mortal time, beings of pure magic, deep magic, old magic, that mortal man can hardly comprehend.

...But there are always those who try.

So: it would seem that peace has been shattered by a ruckus kicking up in the east. Normally, the Fae do not bother nor interfere - but it would seem that the threat is worrisome. What is it? What could it be? And who or whom is behind it?

Travel abreast, or travel alone, to see...


Character sheet:

Name: Arn
Age: 5 Summer Leaps (Leap years)
Gender: M
Species: faun
Alignment/affiliation: good, neutral
Tribe/Clan/Family: none
Appearance: http://nalavara.deviantart.com/art/Faun-144565390
Weapons/accessories: flute, bow and arrows. Minimal shapeshifting ability (into a deer, or into a man).
Bio: Arn is a special case of Faun; given the conditions of his conception, he is able to transform as fully human, or fully deer. However, in being born of a human, Arn is still a very wild beast, and spends most of his time loitering and lazing in the Wood, piping the flowers to grow and entertaining the tree spirits. A resourceful and skilled hunter, he is naturally peaceful until provoked, and will defend himself from physical threat if he has to. Otherwise, expect mischief and pranks on wandering humans and inattentive Fae.


Name: Sagitar Deathstrike
Age: 73 Mimosa Cycles
Gender: F
Species: blue troll
Alignment/affiliation: neutral
Tribe/Clan/Family: Shalawan Tribe
Appearance: http://browse.deviantart.com/?qh=&section=&q=troll+female#/d2w52oq
Weapons/accessories: Bow and arrows, sacred knife, Lunar Chakrams, spell-bag.
Bio: Sagitar is something of a wise-woman or priestess where she comes from (Shalawan Tribe), and specializes in the healing and cursive arts. Deadly archer (hence her name), and has never chosen sides in the exception of payment for her services. Gruff and no-nonsense, she wanders and lurks away from her clan, keeping track of trails and the movements of humans and her fellow Fae.

[Batcat]

Name: Mariana Scairp
Age: As old as the water itself
Gender: Female
Species: Nymph
Alignment/affiliation: Neutral
Tribe/Clan/Family: None
Appearance: Looks
Weapons/accessories: Bow and arrows (tied to water), gold dagger, can shape shift into a full maiden appearance when away from water
Bio: Mariana is just a normal water nymph. She is full of herself, enjoys playing jokes on anyone that passes by, and of course, likes to swim. She can be deadly when she wants to, but generally she likes to disappear if threatened. She doesn't travel very much, but wants to go on an adventure sometimes soon.

[Imperial Ink]

(I thought I’d play the part of the Villain, if that’s okay with you guys?)

Name: Seth Larkspur

Age: He appears to be about 20 (Actual age unknown)

Gender: Male

Race: Shadow (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shadow_people)

Alignment/affiliation: Currently Evil, but he can jump between loyalties…he’s sort of an anti –hero type of Character.

Tribe/Clan/Family: Shade’s Court (A Dangerous group of Renegade creatures under the servitude of the Wolf Lord; Demex)

Rank: Spy, Strategist and assassin to Shade’s Court

Appearance: Seth is by race a shadow; so his natural form is a sort of wispy black silhouette of a teenage boy. However thanks to some intervention from the wolf lord Demex, Seth has managed to acquire a physical body. His physical body isn’t very muscular or tall, but what he lacks in strength he makes up through speed and intelligence. When in this form Seth has pale white skin, short wispy black hair, long elfish ears and a brilliant pair of violet eyes.

Personality: Sly, manipulative, childish, Proud, ambitious, selfish and dangerously intelligent.
Weapons/accessories: A Bow (with arrows of course XD), Poison darts, throwing knives and a overly ornate long sword. He also carries around a rather bizarre String instrument that resembles a Lute.

Skills: Seth is able to shape shift, however he can only shift when he is in shadow form. As a Shadow being, he is naturally able to manipulate shadows and has a strange ability to travel through Mirrors. He also has quite a bit of knowledge in forbidden black magic.

Weakness: Direct Sunlight, it does quite a bit of damage.

[Imperial Ink]

(Would you mind if I make a Prop Character?...he’ll only come into the story on occasion)

Name: Demex

Age: He appears to be about 30 (Actual age unknown)

Gender: Male

Race: Werewolf

Alignment/affiliation: Evil

Tribe/Clan/Family: Shade’s Court

Rank: Leader of Shade’s Court (More Commonly known as the Wolf Lord)

Human Form: Demex’s physical build is tall, slender and muscular; this is complemented by his snow pale complexion and reddish black eyes. His long lusterous hair is sleek black and falls beautifully over his shoulders.
Demex has a devilish sort of look about him and can easily come off as dangerously handsome when he wants to. He has a long silver scar running cross his nose which adds to his mysterious aura.

Wolf form: Demex’s wolf form is horrifying in comparison with his attractive human self; this is mainly due to the fact that his wolf body is his true form. His wolf body is monstrous in size, far larger than any Ogre stands. He is also strong, clad in steely thick muscle and fur.
Deep silver Scars engrave almost every inch of his body, though the majority of them are etched into his powerful muzzle; which houses a terrifying assortment of yellow, dagger-like teeth.
As a wolf Demex is the embodiment of Death itself, his scent is putrid and rotting. His brilliant crimson eyes are pools of blood contrasting against the black color of his pelt.

Skills: Many of Demex’s abilities are unknown; what we do know about him is that he is able to shape shift from human to Wolf form. And that he has deep ties with Forbidden Black magic and necromancy. Demex is also incredibly strong and intelligent.

[Imperial Ink]

Do you mind If I start so long?
I'm super excited

[Sniper21]

[Go ahead! ^^]

[Rorah]

[ My temptation got the better of me xD ]

Name: Raven Nighthunter

Age: 25

Gender: F

Species: Centaur

Alignment/affiliation: Neutral

Tribe/Clan/Family: None

Appearance: Raven (like her name) has sleek black hair that runs in soft curls down to her chest that seems to shine a dark navy blue in the right light. She has pale skin and deep emerald eyes. Her horse body is a light grey/dark grey variation, with black spots all over. She has slight feathers above her hooves, and a shining black tail. Her sleek and agile build makes her a very good long-distance runner.

Weapons/accessories: Raven is exceptionally skilful with a bow and arrow, and also wields a sword in a sheath that hangs off of her waist for close combat should she ever need it. She has several pouches that she carries across her back, medical supplies, food, equipment to make fire, clothes etc. For clothing she wears a well made tan top, constructed from dragon hide. It has seen many adventures, and is battered and worn. She also wears a crystal on the end of a chain around her neck, a stone infused with a small amount of magic bestowed upon her to allow her to change into a full human if she needs to.

Bio: Raven was born to a widowed mother, who was brutally murdered by a colony of wild trolls. Raven avoided meeting the same misfortune by fleeing and starting a new life on her own. Since then she has become a very prolific bounty hunter, the first person someone goes to if they need someone disposed of. Her beautiful appearance is incredibly deceiving, which is what makes her so successful. One of her weaknesses is love. Raven has taught herself not to get attached to anyone, and because of her profession it is nearly impossible for her to stay in one place for long. She possesses no magical powers herself, except her necklace which was given to her by a Meliae, a nymph of the ash tree.

[Imperial Ink]

(Awesome…um I hope my post makes some sense to you guys XD)

Seth knelt obediently before his powerful master; his head bowed respectively before the leader of Shade’s court. “I understand my mission master, I won’t fail you” Seth replied with serious confidence.
The Wolf Lord watched the boy with clear interest etched into his handsome features, “For your sake that better be so…”he snarled dangerously before adding, “I need to ensure the truth behind the Shalawan Tribe prophecy…hurry up and bring it to me.”
The wolf lord said nothing more as he unsheathed the beautiful sword at his side. The reflective metal blade blinked furiously in the firelight as he pointed the blade at Seth.
Seth gave a final nod before allowing his Physical form to dissolve into darkness. As a shadow he could travel through reflections, a very useful skill indeed. His flickering dark form hovered like mist over the sword before changing its sharp and gushing like liquid into the blade’s reflection.
In an instant the boy was gone.


Seth re-emerged a while later from the reflection of a broken glass bottle. He had traveled directly into the Shalawan Tribe’s villiage. His aim was to steal their famed prophecy; a scroll holding all their tribe secrets and ancient magic techniques.

[Rorah]

(wow..that was dramatic XD I wish I could travel through reflections...sounds awesome D:)

The arrow sliced through the air in an unrecognisable flurry of feathers, and hit its target, the flank of a buck grazing through the trees. The other deer scattered, fleeing as fast as they could as their herd leader fell into the undergrowth with a cry. At once Raven was at his side, hanging her bow across her back. She finished the buck with a dagger to the windpipe, its tense body going limp in her hands. Satisfied, she sheathed the dagger and picked up the buck by it's legs and took it back to her small makeshift camp. She was aware of another tribe within the area, but as long as they were oblivious to her presence everything would be good. She wasn't planning on staying long. She tossed the buck down by a small campfire which was burning nicely. Sitting down, she began to skin the deer, occasionally tossing a few sticks on the fire to keep it going.

[Sniper21]

[Sagitar's introduction ^__^]

Trolls as a species were well-known for their brutish savagery and rather low I.Q.; but what they usually lacked in brains, they made up for with viscious temper and their bloodthirsty nature. And, what not many ever had a chance to realize, a single surprising aspect that managed to balance both sides perfectly: patience.

Blue Trolls especially were an odd lot, since patience happened to be their specialty - and, may at first a scoffable quality to the unlearned, an almost terrifying quality of the Race that every animal, every spirit, every nymph and goblin and elf and troll alike knew well: Blue Trolls were dangerous not for their savagery, but because Blue Trolls were wise. Blue Trolls stayed calm.

Blue Trolls knew how to wait.

Waiting bred thought, thought bred intellect, and so it was that these creatures remained largely undisturbed by anything smaller than a Red Troll or wandering ogre. With their technique, others made a point to give them a wide berth, and avoid if at all possible.

Clouds of sweet-smelling smoke coalesced with the pungent, musky, odor of the Shadow Swamp, a combination of burning sage and soggy mold of the marsh. Bald cypresses towered from the gloomy mists, ringed with massive shelves of fluorescent, glowing mold, each as solid as limestone and wide enough for a team of horses; sodden, wooden stalagmites rose from the murky marsh like jagged, misshapen teeth, and warm steam, thick as the clouds, hid the wild residents from sight.

In the ragged reeds croaked the witching-toads, and cricketsong pierced the air. Bright lights would fade inn, and then fade out, again and again, denoting the lazy loafing of the fireflies in the darkness. For mid-noon, the Shadow Swamp always appeared to exist at night.

Further in came the throbbing of massive cow-hide drums and beating tree trunks, shivering the muddy water to the cattail roots. And further, hidden beyond the limits of human sight, in the Stygian cover they would rather not see, burnt the great, iron-wrought torches of the the Shalawan Tribe!

Twelve to fifteen-foot, wild blue giants scrambled and leaped wildly around the CenterFire below, a bonfire burning at the crux of several trees centered perfectly around it. The village was up - up, up upon the glowing shelves and branches. An intricate network of bridges and ropes made it possible to traverse the great city, each mold-plate and pathway graced with enormous, glowing flowers-in-bloom dripping from weaving vines and branchwork. Within each tree was a hollowed space, where a Shalawan would make their home, and decorate its entryway with trophies: horns, skulls, claws, teeth, treasures, and pelts, to remind their neighbors of their achievements.

Several hundred crowded the ledges closer to the bottom to observe the sacred rites. Each dancer undulated and wove like predators in the magically-protected Circle obscuring the village location from accidental passerby. Sweat ran in rivulets through their body-paint, slicked their necks from behind their skull-masks. Beaded, matted dreadlocks woven with bones and wood-spools thrashed and whirled like the manes of angry, wild horses to the beat of the heftier drummers and flutists.

Sagitar Deathstrike held up a decorated bull's skull to the trees.

Today, the Shalawan were performing the Drought Dance. Every so many cycles, their area of the marsh would dry up, just enough to make the protective mud and water at the base of their village trees sink away. That they could walk upon it now meant that the rains would be needed again to flood the area once more, and soon, in case a rival tribe thought to attack.

Sagitar, the feearsome-looking Blue Shamaness, dropped the skull into the fire in an explosion of embers and ash - and the sage smoke fogged the village-tops, amongst the cheers and brays and war-howls of her fellow tribesmen.

In the tradition of the Drought, she and the lesser priestesses would fast and meditate on the ground, guarded by their Dark-and-Earth Magic Circles and the burly, armed Bulls (warrior males), for a full week, until there presented a sign or blessing that the spirits would return the water.

Sagitar closed her eyes and inhaled the smoke from behind her mask, feathered and pointed headdress swaying in the humid air. She would stay a week for her tribe's sake, and then begin her wanderings once more; Fenrir and Gnorga, the Leaders, had requested it.

And even from so many miles away, she could smell beyond the heavy white and blue smoke: blood, the spilled blood of an animal. The troll instinct to find the kill, to tear it away from its hunter and rip the flesh from every bone to sate the feral hunger. To devour its hunter, as well.

But patience meant concentration, focus; there were so many more important matters at hand here, that a few drops of blood weren't going to make any difference.

[Rorah]

[Haha, oh wow XD That beats my intro to a pulp XD ]

[Batcat]

[[Hey Rorah, I'm thinking our charries can meet up since Reesh and Inkerz are probably gonna be together soon ^^]]

The water was cool near the end of the stream. It ended in a small cave, where Mariana typically spent her time. It was pretty and peaceful there. Oftentimes, the water would reflect onto the ceiling, casting glimmering reflections that danced around gracefully. She liked to lie there and soak in the shallow water and just stare up in the ceiling with wonder and awe. Water never failed to amaze her. It was so unique. Each drop with like a liquid ccrystal, suspended in time for a moment before being released back into its pack.
She liked to think.

Mariana was not in the cave at the moment, though. She was sitting on the side of the small stream, combing through her silky blue hair with her fingers, singing a soft melody. She had made up the song one day as she had lain in the cave, wondering how to describe her life. She finally decided it would work best in a poem, which she quickly put to tune. Poetry was one of her strong points. She'd had centuries of practice, as well as the inclination to learn from passing creatures. Generally centaurs and satyrs were reliable, and ocasionally a dryad would have a spark of intelligence - but that was rare. The real gold mines, however, were the faeries. They were cunning and deadly, but if you treated them right and paid them well, they would share some of their wisdom.
But if you treated them badly...
You'd better be able to run fast.
The girl giggled at her own thoughts and went back to her hair, braiding it until it swirled from her left ear over her right shoulder. She stood up and stretched back, letting herself indulge in the bright morning rays of the rising sun. This was going to be a nice day out - maybe a little warm, but overall not bad. It would be a good day to plan a few jokes on the faun that would be passing through her territory in a couple of days. The other nymphs had informed everyone in the area, so they knew ahead of time there would be someone to pull a couple of pranks on.

Thud.
Mariana jumped and whipped her head to the side, where she could see a buck go down, an arrow lodged firmly in its flank. A centaur galloped towards it and finished it off with a dagger.
She wasted no time in diving into the water and becoming invisible.
So, Mariana sat there and watched the centaur set up a small camp and prepare the deer for eating, camoflaged into the water.

[Rorah]

[Sure! ]
The sticky, hot blood from the buck seeped out of it's lifeless body, all over her dagger, legs and hands. Cursing, she stood up, searching for a place to wash. She soon spied a small stream, a small, trickling body of water and headed towards it. The blood didn't alarm Raven, quite the opposite, but if it were to dry on her she would smell appealing to every single blood drinking or meat eating animal within a mile.

She tested the water with her hoof. It was cold, not freezing, but cold. As she sat down and began washing herself, the blood stained the water a sickening red.; The current washed it down the stream where it came to a swirling rest in a small cave. Raven looked at the cave for a moment, the blood had tainted the water scarlet, but there was one spot where it was clear, right in the middle of the ruby red liquid. It resembled something, although the name had left her mind. It was unusual. Shrugging, Raven went back to what she was doing.

She had seen enough in these forests to realize that a little mis-behaving water was the least of her worries. Finally, she removed the dagger from her pouch and began washing it, taking care not to pierce her skin on the sharp serrated edge. The dragon's tooth caught the light, reflecting blinding morning light. She inspected it. It had come from the same dragon that her hide pouches and vest had came from. It had been a small-ish beast, definitely not as big as they could grow, but there were many of them. And flighty little creatures they were.

Once she was done, she got up from the soft moss undergrowth and went back to the skinned deer. She quickly went and washed the hide too, and then the meat. When they both dried, she drove the deer through a sharp wooden spike and suspended it above the fire, like a spit. Satisfied, Raven sat back against a tree and waited for her meal to cook.

Once it was done, the beautiful scent of buck meat wafted through the trees, carried by the wind. She pulled the whole thing off of the spike above the fire, taking care not to burn her fingers, and placed it on some leather hide inside her small tent. She cut off a slice and chewed on it, the wonderful taste of buck filling her mouth and making her smile. It had been a while since she had eaten like this, mostly it had just been a few berries foraged from the undergrowth here and there. Not too good for her, but centaurs were known for having very strong stomachs, so berries that would kill a normal faun, or indeed a human would only give her a stomach ache at best.

It was at times like this she felt so alone. She wished that she were part of a tribe, or a group. Hell, she would have taken a witch as her companion if it meant not being alone anymore. But friends held her down…and it was these two conflicting opinions that meant that she neither knew anyone nor possessed any friends to speak of. She was solitary, and that’s how it had to stay. But centaurs were not meant to live alone.

[Imperial Ink]

(Lolz, This Rp is turning out to be very interesting, hope this post is okay)

Seth had rapidly weaved his way towards the sight of the Drought Dance Ritual. His wispy black form traveling quickly from shadow to shadow in near perfect camouflage as he followed the rhythmic sound of the beating drums.


The boy eventually caught sight of the ritual in the distance. It was quite the elaborate affair and he was immediately impressed by the masses of giant Blue trolls that crowded around the Dancers and the ritual fire in the centre. He was sure that there must’ve been at least a thousand of them in total.
Seth smirked with satisfaction, “The bigger the crowd, the bigger the shadow…the easier to go by unnoticed” he mumble quietly as he slowly slipped into the mess of shadows that danced around the feet of the massive crowds.
The boy picked his way through the crowd carefully as he passed by the ritual sight and into the quiet east side of the village.
His destination was the Shalawan Tribe’s main shrine in the east. It was there that the scroll was hidden. The Drought Dance Ritual was proving to be the perfect distraction in his plan. Most of the troll warriors and guards were down at the Village’s center, guarding the chanting priestesses and controlling the rowdy crowds.
It didn’t take Seth too long to finally reach and enter the overly ornate Shalawan Shrine. He had taken care of the trolls who were guarding it quickly, making use of poisoned darts to kill them silently and instantly. The boy had then used his black form to slip beneath the securely locked doors.


He padded through seemingly abandoned shrine in search of its archives. His master had given him excellent directions and it wasn’t long before he came across the locked room holding his prize. He examined door carefully, taking note of the five magical seals that kept it locked. “This is some strong magic…Very clever indeed, but I was honestly expecting something more challenging” he grinned arrogantly as he materialized into his physical form, before using his own black magic to break the seals and open the door. Seth entered the archive chamber cautiously. He didn’t sense any magic as he slowly approached the alter in the center of the room. He glanced briefly at the Scroll that lay upon it before snatching it quickly from its place.
The boy slipped his hand into his pocket as he retrieved a broken fragment of enchanted mirror. He then placed the enchanted fragment on top of the prophecy stroll, before chanting a quick teleportation spell. “…The fragment becomes whole through the object it holds… ”
In an instant the scroll disappeared into the mirror fragment, it would be delivered to the Wolf lord Directly...the Shalawan tribe's secrets now belonged to Shade's Court.
Seth had completed his mission successfully and was about to teleport back to Shade’s Court himself, when suddenly a hidden trap activated around him. He cursed loudly noticing the spell to be a magical trap circle; a strong type of magic that imprisons any being caught, slowly weakening them and temporarily stripping of their magic.

[Imperial Ink]

Bump...Um are you guys still alive?

[Rorah]

Yeah but I need someone to interact with my character otherwise im just roleplaying someone on their own and that aint fun...

[Sniper21]

[I was never alive. I are taco-zombie, grr. A note on autoing and godmoding, Inkerz - I'll let it go this time, but next time, ask permission before you kill my characters, okay?]

The moment the seal activated, Gnorga, the Alpha, lifted her shaggy head. The substitutes - the lesser priestesses of the Shalawan clergy - backed out of the Circle to attend to her. Sagitar mask betrayed none of her thoughts as she calmly traded places with the current High Priestess, and left the ring to go with Gnorga and her followers. Fenrir, her mate, stayed behind to protect the proceedings.

Something had penetrated their defenses, and no one had felt a thing.

The Shalawan Shrine of Gnori was a place dedicated to history and spells; a place of even greater importance still, given that Blue Trolls were the only known race of trolls period to even have a written history or language, given their nature to primitive lifestyles.

The oldest document of all actually resided within the Gnori Onembwa, their Eastern Temple; written in stone and accessible to only the clergy. Below it, was the Eastern Shrine.

And as far as their history went, the only things written on parchment of any kind had to be transcribed by more able-hands - namely, those of the Elves or goblins - from their ancient stone runes as viable copies.

Sagitar and Gnorga led the way to the East, where the shrine, actually a collection of bald white trees bound together over time, rose to meet the others. At its combined base frowned the solemnly carved faces of ancient trolls, one for every side. A spiral of red-tinted shelf mold gave them access, 'round and around, until the top came into view, heavily guarded by ancient magic.

Sagitar and the priestesses entered through the boundary and crimson throws unscathed - and stood before the collection of old stone and glittering treasury - where, bound fast and unyielding to the sigil on the floor, there appeared to be a boy made of the shadows, struggling within it like a fly caught in a web.

The great room was almost blinding with magical light, shrinking its captured occupant not to death, but well enough that it could not move from its bonds. The priestesses spread out to check the room, and Gnorga quietly conversed with Sagitar before speaking to the shadow-man. "You have taken from us," she hissed. Her mask, long enough to touch her bare teal midriff, betrayed nothing of her expression, nothing of her thought, either. "For this, you have been bound - foreign shadows are not our shadows, stranger. Why did you take?"

There was nothing threatening about their stances, nothing to denote that they would harm him any more than hold him in any way. Instead, an almost nonchalance as they waited, curious, for an answer.

---

Elsewhere, in the sunnier hollows and groves of the Wood, reclined a curious beast; a humanoid creature with presumably the upper torso of a man, and the powerful latter and legs of some form of goat. From long-haired head to tufted, bull-like tail, it sported a long sable coat of coarse, sleek finery; and curving from its skull, a pair of great, crescented horns of a ram.

Only part of its chest and face were bare, and, though human the face presented, the almond-shaped eyes were too large for a man, and, no man alive possessed pupiless, irisless, platinum eyes, unnatural and enchanting as if he held a pair of roving pearls in their place. This beautiful and unlikely creature was Arn, a Pan of the West.

The speckled goat's ears flicked away a midge of two as the faun relaxed in the hollow of a short and gnarled old tree, sitting back against the yellow-green moss and wildflowers. The sound he piped through his flute was a sound unable to be recreated by mere mortals - the Dustlings, as the Folk referred to them - a sound that might have been the voice of the forest itself, lilting and playing on the calming mid-noon air, swirling its tune around the very trees and blades of grass.

Before him spiraled a peony bush, twisting and curling and blooming with every note in a shaft of warm sunlight through the canopy of thick oak leaves, and finally, the Pan removed his instrument from his lips for a breath, and tilted his head, to admire his work.

A single petal fell from the bloomed bush, and quickly browned.

Arn's ear flicked again.

There was laughter, the laughter of many children. Not that he had to wonder what it was, but he looked up anyway: there, dancing between the trees on the air with the sun motes, was Antarites, the Spirit Piper, another Pan of the West, with her procession of spirits - all children in bright, cheerful robes, dancing after her and holding on to her long tail as she led them away into the next world, where they would be safe from any more harm, and happy.

Arn watched them and their music fade out of existence and frowned, looking back to the flower bush. Its soft white and pink petals had fallen in the time he'd looked away, browning and curling to a crisp. Finite, is the day, but INFINITE, would my music be; infinite, would be me.

Another sound caught his attention: babbling water over the rocks, the sound of a good mood. A grin, much too wide for a man, and full of contradictively sharp teeth, split the good faun's face. A water-Nymph. An irresistible opportunity. Now, what could he do to ruin it, just a little bit, for her? Or at least, annoy her, and maybe make her laugh? A natural Trickster, Arn contemplated for a few moments, and then brought the pan-pipe back to his lips.

...And watched the lily-pads grow and clump and tangle and clog together on the stream's surface.

Clumph, clumph.

He tilted his head the opposite way now, intrigued. A centaur? So few were seen in these parts.

The weeds creeped and snaked around the mare's ankles as he played on. Welcome to the neighborhood.

[Imperial Ink]

((*Facepalm*…I’m really Sorry, I didn’t realize I was Godmoding or Autoing XD…I tend to go overboard sometimes, I’ll make sure that it doesn’t happen again though...Thanks for warning me ))


Seth struggled inside the magical barrier, his shadowed body not dealing well with the light type magic of the trapping circle. It proved to be very painful and he knew that almost all of his magic had been temporarily sapped away.
He shut his violet eyes tightly, listening to the noises of his environment in an attempt to block out the pain. He could hear the heavy foots steps of trolls quickly approaching and instinctively he felt fear pulse through his body. As far as he knew Trolls didn’t take too kindly to thieves, he wondered what they would do with him.

At first He didn’t notice the trolls enter the room, but as soon as they addressed him, the boy slowly lifted his black head to stare at their masked faces with his large violet eyes. His own fear suddenly fading into cocky arrogance.
He remained silent as the older of the two trolls addressed him, You have taken from us… For this, you have been bound - foreign shadows are not our shadows, stranger. Why did you take?
Seth tilted his black head in strange amusement as he watched the two blue creatures curiously. Their stances suggested that they had n o intention of fighting or harming him, though he guessed that this was due to effectiveness of the trapping circle, it seemed to do all the work in holding and weakening him.
The shadowed boy breathed heavily before allowing a foolishly sly grin to pull onto his lips, “I have my reasons, though they are not for your ears Hag…” he hissed disrespectively with the attitude of a typical teenager.
“This trapping circle is light type magic isn’t it? ...You’re doing a pretty good job of killing me here” he stated sulky with annoyance.

[Batcat]

The blood flowed through the crystal clear water, staining it a dark crimson. The rusty scent reach Mariana nostrils, and she snapped her head around to see what had happened. That fool centaur had bathed her buck in the river! Sheground her teeth together in frustration and shot up her elbows at the creature - a very disrespectful gesture in the nymph world. At least where she was raised.
She narrowed her eyes and watched with growing anger as she leisurely dipped the carcass in over and over, letting all of the impurities wash into her stream!
If that centaur knew what was good for her, she'd sleep with one eye open.

When the girl was done and bringing it back to camp, Mariana drew her bow and strung an arrow. The weapons depended on the water for everything - their energy, shape, and even material. As of right now, they looked as if they were made out of solid gold - but that was because they were nearly in the water. A little farther out, they would be silver. Even more, they would just be a soft, gray metal, malleable by even the weakest hands.
She didn't know if the centaur was in her range at the moment, but she was intent on finding out.
She drew back the string calmly, letting the excess energy seep from her and into the water. In response, light waves began to form. They could be mistaken for the wind if necessary. It was only when she was in a really bad modd and did this could someone tell they were not natural.
The string snapped and the arrow shot forward. Mariana leaned forward, tossing the bow into the water beside her. She'd get it when she was done.
The loosed arrow dissolved in midair, about two yards from the centaur's turned back.
The irritated water nymph cursed loudly in her language, but disguised her voice soo she wouldn't be heard. No good doing that, right?
So she sat there, smoldering, until dusk came. Then she would confront the girl. But she needed to form a plan.

Just when the last pink rays of the Sun were slipping over the horizon, Mariana slowly got up from the water, pearl dagger with an iron blade in hand. She narrowed her eyes and watched as her blue hair changed to a light golden, waving gently and curling around her shoulders. Her skin took on a light tan hue. Only her clothes stayed the same.
She walked boldly over to the centaur, who was packing away meat in her tent.
"I ask you, what business do you have, washing blood into my stream?"
She was angry. That much was obvious.
The water began to churn again. Even at this distance, she was still obviously attatched to it, body ad mind. And right now her mind was causing those angry waves to jump up and angrily assault the ground beside it.
It didn't matter. That grass was always battered.

[Rorah]

Raven got to het feet as plants began to weave in and out of her legs, and she kicked them away furiously. 'Damn magic!' She cursed, listening carefully to where on earth the sounds could be coming from. Hearing nothing, she went back to what she had been doing, packing away the meat, before slinging her bow over her shoulders and her belt with the sword in its sheath around her waist. She unbound the tent from where it had been suspended on a low-lying tree branch and it fluttered to the ground. She packed it away in one of her dragonskin satchels, satisfied.
All of a sudden a young woman's voice demanded her attention. She spun around, and was faced with an astonishingly beautiful young woman. "S-sorry?" She stammered, taken aback at her demand. Raven stood taller than her, although that was partly due to the fact that she was a centaur. "Your stream?" She questioned. "I thought this land belonged to all the creatures of the woodland...unless you own such stream..."
She looked the maiden up and down. She was beautiful, but formidable when she was angry. Which she clearly was expressing.

[Sniper21]

[It's cool ^^ your punishment will be zombification...*wiggles arms in a presumably creepy, undead way* Brrraaaains.... 8D ]

The trolls glanced between each other, as though holding an inaudible conversation. In the corner, tended to by the priestesses, lay the two deceased troll guards, their wounds shimmering where they had been pierced. "Take them into the Temple, for Regank'walai," Sagitar softly commanded, and they draped a pair of woven shrouds over their still and lifeless faces. But now, back to business.

Curiously cocky, for someone in such a trap. Perhaps if they ate him, they could acquire better and easier knowledge than to simply ask - but, he might prove useful in one piece later. Gnorga spoke again, hardly above a whisper. "What you have taken, boy, has led you into one of the many Fools' Falls of our domain. Did you really think that taking such a thing, would be so easy?"

"Should we devour your essence, to obtain these answers?" Sagitar suggested, still without aggression. It was the peaceful, passive way of their manner that appeared more disturbing, more threatening, than anything, as they waited, no insult apparently taken, for the shadow-creature to reply.

------

Taking advantage of the angry nymph being away, the lilypads continued to clog up her stream, until it stopped, just short of a dam. There. Though they absorbed the blood, it would still be quite the challenge to try to get rid of them all. The faun smiled in mischievous satisfaction.

And now, back to the newcomer. Arn hit a low note on his flute, and the platinum eyes widened, larger, larger, until they nearly took up his entire face. The weeds twisted and curled thicker, heavier - flowery - up the beast's massive legs once more.

[Rorah]

[I'm assuming the beast is Raven?]

[Sniper21]

[Yep.]

[Rorah]

[aah ]

Raven was distracted from the angry maiden by the sensation of gripping and pulling running up her legs. Looking down she noticed that the vines were once again attaching themselves to her, tangling in her tail and making her curse. She pulled out her dagger and began chopping at the vines, which were beginning to bloom into sweetly scented flowers. She grimaced. She knew enough about magic to know that good things were often bad. She tried to step away but they were firmly holding her where she was. "Get off me!"

[Batcat]

Mariana had sensed - even before she turned around - that something was not right in her stream. She didn't look, though, because the magic she sensed was that of a faun. They were pesky, but usually harmless. They liked a good joke, just like her. She'd be the good sport. It wasn't like she'd never done anything to a faun before...
Sighing angrily at the centaur, who was now being covered with floral shoots and blossoms, she again raised her elbows and said, "I'll make you pay once the faun is done."

With that, she turned and faced her beautiful stream, now clogged with lillies. She swore. They would be a pain to remove. While they acted as natural sponges, soaking up all the crimson liquid, they would probably weigh a ton now. And they would most likely be even worse, considering they had some sort of magical quality to them.
Now she knew never to leave her home unguarded.

Mariana noticed the faun out of the corner of her eye and nodded grudgingly. It said that he did a good job and she respected him for that, but he'd better watch his back.
Revenge was sweet.

She chuckled and waded into the water, her hair and skin regaining their normal shades of blue. She approached the lilies cautiously, just in case there was some sort of magical trap to them. You never could tell with fauns.

Just then, something in the air shifted. She couldn't describe it, but there was a change. Almost like the electricity in the atmosphere had unbalanced itself. The hair on her body stood on end and she tensed. What happened?
She shot a nervous look at the other two creatures, wondering if they'd felt it.

This had happened once, about two thousand years back. And that had resulted in a horrible war that had killed off most of her population. She narrowed her eyes and sunk down into the water, until only her eyes showed.

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