Of Bows and Beasts

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AbigailAlberta
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Of Bows and Beasts

Post by AbigailAlberta »

Tasali sat cross legged on the forest floor. Her back straight and excitement licking at her veins. The Westwood buzzing with pollinating bees and sounds of the many pheasants bursting with a choir of mating season. She felt alive, the grass tickling her nimble fingers as she ran them across the lush emerald ground.

The chitter of the other two around her growing as he seemed to materialize out of the woods like a mirage, invisible one second but ever present the next. Soft blue skin and jet black hair. His ranger uniform blending into the surrounding foliage. Everything about him screamed professional.

He wasn't a new sight. Tasali saw him often when her mother would bring her to the village. Standing guard over all Renvanna. Sometimes he could be so serious but he always had a smile for the awkwardly lanky girl. A few times he'd even offered her a snack when she was brave enough to stop and chat. A crunchy apple or some berries he had picked in the forest. On rare occasions he would even bless her with a story about her father. Those were the most precious treats. Daring adventures of bravery and might. Her father had been a true ranger, just like Sywyn. And he never let her forget it. The stories could give her something to hold onto, something to remember him by besides the fuzzy memories of scarred copper skin and a deep throated laugh.

Her mother told her stories of course, but these were soft tales of unconditional love and romantic gestures. Tasali craved the lure of danger- the thrill of the hunt!

Her two friends also coming from further in the Westwood their families active members in the local druid circle.

"Alright, please give your attention to our guest speaker today," her teacher clapped rousing Tasali from her stupor.

A whisper picked up around them before suddenly ending as they settled in, eyes sharp with excitement for what was to come.

"Greetings kin, as many of you know I am a Ranger of Renvanna, but you may call me Sywyn little ones," his face screwed up into an almost awkward smile as he looked around at the attentive children.

"Are you going to teach us how to shoot Kobolds?!" Aelbael shouted breaking the silence of the group.

"Yeah!" piped up Alamadre almost flying from her seat at the idea the short older teen full of excitement.

Tasali felt her heart skip a beat and her throat close with pain. She swallowed hard as their teacher tried to regain composure of the buzzing class. She felt Sywyn's eyes on her, and she curled up a little to hide her embarrassment at her reaction. Even the word filled her with these feelings of loss and regret and fear. She should be brave. She needed to be more brave.

"They are not trifle beings you should be excited to meet. No, today I will teach you the basics of my craft, today I shall teach you of the bow."

There was much uproar about this development as well, but it seemed to amuse the older elf who let out a laugh and tried to die down the giddiness with a wave of his muscled arms.

"Quiet, Quiet! Do I have a volunteer?"

All three of their hands shot up in the air like a proverbial arrow, none more higher than Tasali herself, which helped that she was a few inches taller than the willowy frame of Aebael, who was almost on his feet.

"Ah, a lot of eager students I see," he paused rubbing his chin as if in deep debate on who to select before grinning as he pointed to Tasali. "Little Fox, come try your hand at this challenge."

Tasali threw herself to her feet in five seconds or quite possibly less as she went running the short distance across the meadow straight up to Sywyn. Much to Aebael and Alamadre's moaning displeasure. Forget those two sourpusses she was going to learn how to use a bow!

"I see you are ready for today," he mused, pulling her father's old ranger cloak off of her left shoulder so it wouldn't get in the way. The gold clasp as shiny and polished as the day he'd gotten it.

She nodded, face set in a determined fashion, eyes hungry for the tween sized long bow in his hands. When he handed it to her it was if the world suddenly came into focus. The smooth wood beckoning her soul. She would do this, she had to do this. "I'm ready!" She declared.

He chuckled at this, his laugh warm with affection. "Okay, start by spreading your legs shoulder length apart, like that, yes, good job, now move your body into a straight line... hmmh," he quickly adjusted her turned hips to give her a better posture. "Nice," she looked towards the circular target with a calculating stare, sizing it up.

"Hold your arms out straight, ah you see that is a common mistake class, now pay attention, when extending your arm you want your shoulder not to be up towards the sun but turned a little down." He adjusted her again with careful fingers. "Now we hold the bow with two fingers and your thumb, just like this," he curled her ring finger and pinky down. "You're going to knock your arrow, and pull back, yes very nice, watch your shoulder little Fox, hold onto the string one finger on top and two on bottom," he paused looking at the group. Eyes drifting that way as well she could see everyone's stares fixated on her and her stomach twisted in delight. She had to do this right!

"Now Tasali is not doing this right now, but you need to know if you squeeze that arrow while trying to anchor it next to your face your shot will fail," he lectured turning back towards the thrilled girl in question.

"Let your arrow strike true," he announced and wouldn't you know it did. Just not a bullseye, but she was sure with a little practice she'd get thre too.

She felt his breath tickle her ear as he leaned in, whispering with praise, "Your father would be so proud." and his words meant everything in the world to her. Because for once she thought it was true.
Last edited by AbigailAlberta on Wed Nov 30, 2022 5:17 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Ithildur
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Re: Of Bows and Beasts

Post by Ithildur »

((Awww. A nice way to mark a beginning and an end both. Kudos))
Formerly: Aglaril Shaelara, Faerun's unlikeliest Bladesinger
Current main: Ky - something

It’s not the critic who counts...The credit belongs to the man who actually is in the arena, who strives violently, who errs and comes up short again and again...who if he wins, knows the triumph of high achievement, but who if he fails, fails while daring greatly.-T. Roosevelt
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AbigailAlberta
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Re: Hot Springs Blues

Post by AbigailAlberta »

Tasali stared across the bubbling surface of the hot springs as she hunkered down low, up to her nose in the warm water. Letting out groans of discontent under the surface like a monster from some black lagoon. It was her first bath in a good while, and needed if the slight shuffling upwind that the other elves had started to do was any indication. She hated baths, ever since she was a child. Her mother literally flinging the young elf into a Westwood pond after a few weeks of scurrying around. Yet, after slaying a slew of goblins in the disgusting sewers of that human plagued city, the night before with Aelenta and Rocky she needed a good soak.

She'd never wanted to be a druid, but spending so much time in the tree tops of late she'd missed home. She needed to go see Birdsong soon, leave a message for her mother to try and smooth things over. Every trip down to the druid circle ended up with a kilometer long list of chores that the druids needed done. So she avoided that part of the forest whenever possible. Her mother would come visit her whenever she was done communing with the Leaflord and having her 50 million orgies. So once every few months. She'd been there at the funeral but had left in disgust at the end due to the necromancy. Tasali had thought it was necessary- those bastards deserved every ounce of pain and misfortune that befell them. They deserved this suffering and their unmarked graves. Yet, her mother always the champion of neutrality in the forest saw it as horrendous. A deviation of the order of things. Sacrilegious. And the fact that Ariella of all people was carrying it out, everything unholy.

She'd even gone so far as to wag a mud tipped finger her way with reproach before her quick exit from Renvanna, having only stayed for the funeral out of respect for her longtime dead friend. Her mother was bullheaded and unshaking in her thoughts, but hopefully she would move on to something different to be pissed off about. There were always poachers to bury alive.

Tasali scrubbed her copper skin roughly with the aloe and lavender soap listening to the sounds of Ael splashing at the banks chasing after a particularly dodgy frog ribbiting away. Her marsupial rat guarding the meadow, and the pheasant bull circling overhead looking for trouble. She had no interest being caught by a worg with her pants down.

Taking a deep breath she sunk deeper into the water, letting it wash over her face and try and calm her bubbling anger.

"Hopefully you will all be around when we come back,"

Or something like that... He could royally fuck off. Sywyn's body barely cold and that fucking piece of trash human thinks he can just make saucy comments about their lives? Who the fuck did he think he was? Her body twitched under the water, her blood filling with rage. And fuck Nova too! Oh I'm an all powerful Priestess Wizard, blah fucking blah. Ariella was 100 times the Priestess that hackjob could ever be. Take their holy blade from Renvanna?

This supposed all powerful Priestess couldn't even do the spell herself, let alone know what she was asking for. Their whole plan was pointless and a waste of time. Starting out asking for the blade to be enchanted and then coming up after hours with the idea for a scabbard. She would have better spent time watching Ril carve more ducks. Tasali dug her feet into the soothing mud pushing out a sharp exhale before surfacing, scrubbing soap into her curly locks.

Next time they better show up with the scabbard or not show up at all. She'd rather take another bath than listen to them ramble on, just because Elves lived long lives doesn't mean they had endless time to deal with argumentative bullshit of no contest. Why did they need Declan to guard the blade, Aelenta was ten times the defender than Declan could ever wish to be. He should stick to his tourist visits buying fruit and keep his stumpy nose out of their business.

She smiled at this, thinking about a long talk she was going to have with the vendor to sell him shitty fruit. That would serve him, she was sure after she mentioned their comments about elven hospitality that it could be arranged.

For now all she could do was continue to work harder, to prove that she could handle this challenge. It irked her how far behind Aelenta she was and she was a whole 9 years older than him. The way he'd translated draconic, she'd found the damn scroll! Ugh, not that she wanted to spend time brushing up on the stupid language... She let out a long grunt of displeasure, not to mention her recent tree climbing difficulties. Find a ladder? He could fuck off too. She had a lot of work ahead of her, and a shit ton of pheasants to kill. She'd never had time to hone her skills, Sywyn had kept her securely in the village, guarding from the treetops, she didn't go on expeditions, she didn't wander the forest or face kobolds, the most she saw was a phase spider or two. She regretted this, but Sywyn had always assured her she'd have time later for all that. She feared though that he didn't believe in her. Maybe she wasn't as skilled as Aelenta? Maybe Sywyn saw in him the potential he didn't see in her? She felt angry tears well up inside her as bitterness took over her heart. In the dream Aelenta had the job she'd always wanted, always strived for. Sywyn had placed him there above her. Fuck Sywyn didn't even mention her in the dream... Did he think of her? Was she just an after thought to be forgotten? It hurt her heart to think of that.

Fuck that. Royally fuck that, she was awesome, and doubting herself now was only getting in her way. She was going to prove everyone wrong she was going to avenge Sywyn, bring back order to the forest and prove herself in the eyes of others. She'd bet her life on that, and for once she felt at peace.
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AbigailAlberta
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Re: The Price of Elite

Post by AbigailAlberta »

She hadn't touched the memorial. That's all Tasali could think of when bent to unstring her bow, the wooden contraption resting on the top of her foot to keep it from touching the treetop walkway, her breath stuck in her chest like she'd been sucker punched in a dirty brawl. She needed one, a good wallop to make the emotional pain melt into the tangle of physical. Physical pain she could deal with. It almost made her wish Ariella hadn't healed her broken ribs and bruised knees earlier.

She licked her lips, wrapping the bow string between her thumb and index finger, curling it into a nice little rope before putting it away in its case in her stuffed pack. Her chest heavy. She swallowed hard, rubbing her tongue over dry lips as she stared into the void of the forest, the night air cold, making her breath come out in puffs of white. It wasn't snowing, the rain just a little too warm to freeze over. She liked the feeling of the rain on her skin, sending goosebumps down her body. She lifted her head to greet it, to welcome it into her. It was numbing. She needed that.

Her head tilting just so to the side as Rothilian spoke, his words hollow in her pointed ears. He was devastated, not that he would show it to them, or maybe it was because Tasali was there? She wasn't sure the paladin had fondness for her let alone comfortability to share his woes. Ariella was nearly as bad, with Ril fretting at her side, as usual unable to find the words to soothe her aching soul, but trying none the less. She had to give it to the shitty carver, at least he tried. Tasali had never been good at the physical. Hell, she barely won any of her fights. She had no hugs for Ariella, and nothing to truely console the stoic Rothilian. Maybe it was better that way, unlike Ril she did not stumble over words or pause, no everything she said came out brash and without warning, most of the time before she could even think them through, turning the most diplomatic situations into fucking shit shows. Charisma was not her strength. If it was, she would know what to say to them, to her new companions. It would be easier with Aelenta. Fuck, Aelenta. She needed to tell him. He wouldn't take it well. He'd try to be strong and show just as much strength as Rothilian but she knew underneath this would fester in him. So close to Sywyn. So close to their last loss.

She hadn't known Earlanni well, not enough to truly mourn her like she deserved but she had been a druid. A true druid, despite the rude things her mother had said about her alignment after the necromancy fiasco. It was funny because she reminded her of her mother; brash and wild, brimming with life and emotion and protectiveness to nature and her acquired family. She fought for nature, distrusted humans and also seemed for some odd reason to really like Tasali which was shocking in itself.
"He would have been proud of you,"
Her last words to Tasali before the patrol. The patrol that cost the druid her life. Another elven life cut short by the swords of the mobs of Kobolds threatening their lands. He would have been proud? Shit he probably would be cursing her in his head for throwing herself into the deep end of the danger pool without a life raft. Fuck. Double fuck. Was it true? Would Sywyn really be proud of her work? Why was she so worried about this when Earlanni was dead?

She swallowed hard again, following the others inside, she tried the only thing she could think of, "It's not your fault, my father died from a Kobold attack," no one replied to her. Her words forgotten on the stale air. Everyone moving around sluggishly as they stripped of armour and put away weapons. No one was in the mood to talk... Why would they be? Would they ever recover from this? It was supposed to be a simple mission, in and out, a patrol. The price for the Elite was too great, two scrolls, one of them a replica of the one they already had. She made quick work of it, tearing it in half in blind rage and then stomping on it on the ground before tossing it in the trashbin. Fuck that scroll, fuck this.

Changing into her common clothes, she grabbed her cloak and headed back to the door, ready to find the fight she needed in a human tavern begging for the pain of cut knuckles, bloody fists and black eyes. Ready for the fight. She needed this to soothe her soul, and it was all she could do to keep the volcano of emotions at bay.
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AbigailAlberta
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Paperwork

Post by AbigailAlberta »

"Fuck… Sywyn," Tasali let out a long breath of air as she looked at the mountain of unfiled ranger reports covering the top of his elven carved desk, the beauty of the piece lost under the mountain of scrolls. Had Aelenta even tried to clean up in here the short amount of time it had belonged to him? Probably not, the asshole. Go figure he'd leave it to her to clean up.

She grumbled loudly, yanking one boot then the other off, dry dirt sprinkling down onto the woven welcome mat. Someone had decorated the space and made it quite homey. Had it been Ariella? Or a loved one of the ranger before Sywyn? The Wood Elf couldn't be sure, but somehow she didn't picture Sywyn doing any interior decorating.

Tasali bit her bottom lip nervously, the box resting on her shoulder growing heavy. The mostly full bottle of Elven Absinthe slopping around inside as she moved to the dusty looking desk. It felt stuffy, constraining but private. A welcome respite from the constant battery of questions she had been faced with since Aelenta went and got himself fucking disintegrated. Stupid asshole. Her heart ached like a kobold had stabbed a poisoned dagger through it. Asshole!

Tasali took her arm and swept it across the surface of the desk, a waterfall of scrolls and crumpled papers falling to the ground in a satisfying cascade. Rolling the heavy box off her shoulder she heard the sound of its clank as it hit the desk. Surveying the area she turned to the window pulling apart the exasperatingly plush quilted curtains, dust filling the air making her sneeze. The latch to the window stuck and it took a grunt of effort before it gave and the large ornate glass swung back and let in the fresh winter air. It made the room feel less stifling. At least it wasn't snowing. Turning around she went to work shifting the desk around and shoving it against the window so her back was to the door. The desk felt heavy, a drawer knocking about as she did so.

Crouching down she fingered the various keys on her ring until she found the one she was looking for. Shoving it in she wiggled it until the lock clicked and the center drawer gave. Quills and ink rolled towards her, expectedly so… it was a desk drawer. But there were other things too. A handkerchief with Ariella's name stitched into it, a forgotten gift for or from the Hanali priestess. And then something unexpected. Tasali blinked, her fingers shaking as she held the small framed portrait, pulling it from the depths.

She reached out and lightly touched it as if she would somehow ruin it. Had Aelenta seen it? Did he know of the treasure within?

Tasali swallowed hard, tears springing to the surface. She placed it on the desk, blowing off the dust. Her young face smiling up at her, Aelenta's painfully mischievous. She'd forgotten about this. Luckily Sywyn was in this one, not the creator of it. For the life of her she couldn't remember who'd painted it, but they'd done a good job. She swallowed back the emotion in her throat. This had to be the only portrait of them all together.

Sywyn had painted her before but she'd hit that age way too early when she'd hated how bushy her hair was or the space between her front teeth or the smeckling of freckles across her nose and refused to sit for him. Years without a portrait. Had Aelenta been any better for him? She didn't know. She felt guilty. She had to ask Ariella if she found any when going through Sywyn's things. She couldn't bring herself to move anything else, so she quietly closed the drawer and moved on to the next.

This drawer opened easier. Pulling back to reveal a leather bound notebook and a much thicker text below it.

She lifted the leather carefully, flipping through the pages as Aelenta's dramatic scrawl stared up at her. She wondered about the pages lyrics gliding across the surfaces. Musings, songs, ballads and first drafts.

A treasure trove to be sure. Bards would kill for this in a few years. If they knew it existed. She considered the Kobold Kisser getting his hands on it and shuttered. Nope. She thought about handing it to Ariella. It troubled her, she missed Aelenta just as much as she did. She couldn't deny it. She couldn't bitterly dismiss it as a casual tangling of flesh. Ariella loved more than anyone she'd ever known. Nothing was just casual to her. Her suffering was just as real, just as painful but Tasali couldn't bring herself to part with the journal. It was too personal, too sacred to his memory for her to let Ariella share it with others. Which she would. Ariella must have been one of those children who gave away all of her toys, who got along with everyone, whereas Tasali got into blood brawls with the other druid children over stolen marbles. Maybe one day she could share this with Ariella but not now.

Swallowing hard she placed the notebook on the desk moving on to the oversized text. She'd seen it before, Aelenta had sat pouring over it on his floormat, brought it between meetings and scrawled in the margins almost religiously. The history text. The key to their quest to defeat the rot. She'd never held it before. Books were not her thing. She'd dreaded her history lessons and had personally played hookie more often than shown up to lessons. Now, it was biting her in the ass. She knew ridiculously little about elven history. Her history. At some point she would probably have to read the text but not today. She'd share this, pass the torch of information scurrying off to someone else. Grunting, she put the notebook back inside the drawer and locked it tight. That was Aelenta's drawer. He'd calmed it as his own and she would keep it that way.

Moving to the bottom she was surprised to find it unlocked the biggest drawer light, "Fucking hell Sywyn!" She groaned, it was filled with more unorganized scrolls. Leafing through them she realized that most of them were letters from the Lead Priestess.

Simple things that no one needed to save: "the pheasant breeding season is in full swing!" "A new worg moved into the eastern sector of the woods," "a ranger fledgling saw a white stag today, a sign of good luck for their career." She grunted, shivering as the cold air blew in. Pulling the papers out, tossing them to the floor with the others.

She yanked her alcohol out of her box, placing it inside the deep drawer next to her favorite glass. She tossed in a few extra bridles a handful of jerky rations and a pouch of gems Ril had given her. It calmed her to feel them rattling about. She closed the drawer carefully letting out a sigh as she slid to the floor and got started on the pile. Fucking paperwork.
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