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Ellara Archiates

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  1. Ellara Archiates

    The Obsidian Dragon. (Chapter 1)

    Ellara didn't grace the other person with an answer. Nor did she seem interested in determining what they looked like, or if it was a really effeminate man or a masculine woman talking. Instead, she rested against the wall with a dull look on her face before the stranger came into the room, causing her to step back in shock. "Who the hell is this boy?!" She seemed to be trying to move, but ended up just slumping forward and falling. She caught herself on a piece of furniture and pushed herself back upright, squinting hard as her lips formed a thin line that devolved to a frown. "Nope, he's not the man from before - I don't mistake color blobs for other, not-so-similar color blobs. I followed that man here because I was worried about him, but now I'm just confused. I don't deal with children." She glanced at the other. "And no offense, but you don't seem to be in need of me. I'm not a babysitter." There was a long pause in which she said nothing, and then she quite rudely blurted, "Wait did you just say smell? You're not human, are you?" All too quickly a look of horror spread over the woman's face as she moved her unsteady eyes from form to unfamiliar form, slowly backing up until she bumped into another piece of furniture. "Neither of you." She sat down heavily and swallowed hard. Her eyes darted back and forth as she seemed to be thinking intently of something before she glanced up, "What exactly are you two doing out here?" Ellara physically pulled her legs in and crossed them, then offered, "Since I'm the 'normal' one it seems, I'll start: I'm Ellara - artificer, survivalist, and occasionally, sharpshooter. I followed that other guy here. Not worth going into why." A heavy hand fell on Ellara's shoulder. "Lara." The elderly man's voice was cracking, but she could hear the smile in it. "Do you know why you shouldn't trust stairs?" A long, weighted sigh. "No, master, why not?" "They are always up to something, Lara." His withering voice splintered into a jubilant laugh so infectious, even Ellara and her grumpy self broke out a smile. "Very funny, ser." They paused for dinner and he passed her his horrible tea, which she drank with a practiced pokerface. He tapped his cup and didn't drink. She placed hers down on the table. "I want you to go gather some more materials, Lara." She nodded, clearly displeased, but not enough to voice that opinion. "You're going to be gathering components for something special - a piece of glass that will correct your vision." Ellara just stared at him emptily. "You are the perfect student in all other manners, Lara, but the fact that you can't even begin to learn to read and write is unacceptable and will always hinder you. You've nearly perfected your sigils through rote memorization, but there will come a time when that will not be enough. You may need to adjust, or change, or - heaven forbid - grow. I want you to be able to do this, and dammit, what kind of magickal artificers would we be if we couldn't craft something to fix your blurry eyes?" He smiled wide enough that his teeth showed, his way of indicating happiness to her. "Alright? We will go over everything you need this evening and you can set out first thing tomorrow." Ellara's dark eyes squinted hard as she took her master's hand in her own. He nodded purposefully, then turned, pulling his hand away, and started haphazardly cramming items into a backpack. "I'll make sure everything is ready for you. Do you have any questions?" "I do, master." Surprised, the old man turned and raised his eyebrows, which he knew his student couldn't very well distinguish. "Will you ever trust me enough not to lie to me, ser?"
  2. Ellara Archiates

    The Obsidian Dragon. (Chapter 1)

    Now that the woman was well within visual range, Ellara studied her as she moved. The level of control was astounding, from her steps to the magic she wielded. The man had at least seemed reasonable, running away like a normal person should - 'Wait, does that make me abnormal?' She considered how she felt about the strangers. Initially, she believed she might have had something to do with the man's inexplicable disappearance, but now she was more convinced it had been one of the two of them after seeing lightning split a building nearly in two and an overwhelming magic engulf the remaining enemies. Recognition clicked. 'I'm in over my head here.' She grimaced and pulled away from the scene back into the forest, tracing around the edges of the town until she had a building between herself and the female. The magic felt familiar, but familiarity meant little to her as she was used to almost any type of magic. No, Ellara decided she did not want to be too close to these people. They were dangerous, on a level she was not. She was an archer, for blessing's sake, an apprentice artificer that would never finish her training. These two needed no help from the likes of her. Biting her lip, she stepped out from the trees and ran to the building, crouching near the door and checking the handle. As she suspected, the townspeople had fled in a rush, and the door was unlocked. Pushing her way inside, the young woman recognized the common items of a near-destitute family. 'Well, if they were poor before, I'm certain this isn't going to make them much poorer. Especially if their lives have already been stolen from them.' It was an excuse to make herself feel better, but she stayed strong in her decision. Survival was the only goal for her, and she refused to submit to personal feelings when what was necessary was in front of her. Shuffling across the floor carefully, she began going through various shelves and cabinets, attempting to remain quiet. If the two people could detect life-forces, they'd know exactly where she was, regardless, but she was gambling that they had exhausted a good chunk of their resources and would be unwilling to use any more in search of her. 'I wasn't that helpful... No reason to involve me further.' Despite the thoughts she had, Ellara knew the odds were decent that they'd at least physically look for her. Her search hastened. Finally, she found what she was looking for, after tearing through a good majority of the house. Salt. A small block, which honestly might not be enough, and probably not well-refined, she was betting it was sea salt and not mined. Sea salt was much more common as a trade good since it was easier to create, so it wasn't much of a stretch. Perhaps she was shooting in the dark, but she had been doing so for a while either way. Moving with the quick practice of someone that has been doing something most of their life, Ellara began drawing magic circles on the ground, shoving anything out of the way as needed. In her rush, she recognized that what she was about to attempt was dangerous, but she knew the risks associated with it and knew that running around the wilds with no preparations while such creatures were loose was, invariably, more dangerous than rapidly creating multiple magical items. By the time she was done drawing, the house looked more like a witch's hut than a place of residence, circles stretching partially up walls, ancient and lost runes scribbled seemingly randomly and everywhere. She then began laying out ingredients, the first of which was candles, which she jammed at every junction where circles met until the dim room was a massive tripping hazard. Behind these catalysts came the actual reagents, some of which she had stolen from the owners of the building, others she supplied on her own. Arrows were everywhere, and seemed to be the only consistent objects. For the most part, the other items were vaguely related to ideas and concepts, like a cup of fresh water with sea salt and kelp sitting in the bottom to represent the sea, or a pile of volcanic ash and sand to represent obsidian shards. In some places there seemed to be a place where a reagent should be, but wasn't. After pacing through to make sure she had laid out everything she needed, Ellara knelt beside the first circle. From her bag she produced a single, tattered book, which she opened and stared at before moving across the room and placing it on a shelf. She then returned to the first of the circles and squinted at the texts, cursing quietly. She still didn't understand it. Lifting her hands up briefly, she laid them out over the circle. A low humming sound began at her fingertips as the floor began to vibrate underneath her, slowly spreading out to the rest of the room. In one massive, reality-warping, thrumming circle, the magic crawled over and across the floor and walls, stretching until it encompassed each of the circles. A pale purple glow emanated from the runes, spreading to anything written in salt, and for a breathtaking moment nothing else happened. Then, the sound erupted out of the building, shattering the windows and sending Ellara's hair flying back. All of the reagents began to dissolve, a slow process through which Ellara held her breath. She could feel the pain starting to sink into her small lungs as the last of the salt and other items evaporated, leaving behind nothing but the arrows, the woman, and a few threads of magic clinging to spots where runes had been. She gasped and violently began coughing, blood erupting from her nose and lungs as she struggled to steady herself against the floor. Her hands felt swollen and thick, and her limbs like they were trying to function without her bones inside them. She could hear the footsteps of others approaching through the pounding of her heartbeat - though she had worked at incredible speeds and the magic had been as quick as it could have been, she had taken too long. Dragging her frame across the floor, she grasped her arrows and pulled them against herself like a dying mother clutching her newborn baby. Having obtained her prize, she reached over to her quiver and began thumbing through the arrows. The strangers were almost there. Her numb fingers were useless as she tried to grip one of her green-fletched arrows, but she decided that could work as well and instead just slammed the weight of her dead limb down on the tip instead. Immediately healing energy rushed up her arm and began to restore her, repairing the blood vessels that had burst with her overexertion. Someone was pushing on the door, and by the time they got through Ellara was beginning to stand, albeit shakily. She stumbled over to a wall and slammed into it, exhaustion apparent. Her eyes looked almost dead as she addressed the doorway: "Don't ask what happened, because I'm not going to explain it to anyone."
  3. Did someone say, Artificer?

    1. Show previous comments  5 more
    2. Artificer

      Artificer

      Nah. To be honest, your post has influenced me a tiny bit in terms of the craft, so I'll be sure to involve circles in my characters' arcane formulae in the future.

    3. Artificer

      Artificer

      As well as the other aspects of course.

    4. Ellara Archiates

      Ellara Archiates

      Well thank you, that means a lot! I haven’t written anything like that before. I’m glad it was good enough to use. ^ ^

  4. Ellara Archiates

    Magick Artificer

    Note: I included the languages mostly as an add-on if you wanted to use this for a tabletop setting as well. But the basic principle is that if it shares an alphabet, just find the root language and use that. As an example, for English it would be Latin, or if you want to go that far back, Phoenician. Etc, etc.
  5. Ellara Archiates

    Magick Artificer

    I pulled these texts from a series of scrolls in the library. Given how difficult it was to obtain, I'm expecting one and a half times the agreed amount. I dunno what kind of war happened to try to eradicate these jokers, or why you're so interested in them, but someone clearly wanted them gone... and got just that. You know where to leave the payment. Don't cross me, or you know what will happen. A once-common skill that has been ebbed away by the growth of true wizardry and their power, magick artificing is a delicate, time-consuming process more about preparation than reaction. A magick artificer is not helpful when a group of bandits burn down the town wall, but is helpful when a scout returns to warn the city of the inbound army of undead. Though most do not know it, artificers usually have some propensity for magic use, and most are either sorcerers or wizards, unaware of their talents. Sometimes, a witch or wizard incapable of awesome feats will choose instead to rely on artificing as a means to “get by,” or “stay in touch with their gifts.” Most such individuals hide any initial training they have in these instances, for no one wants to admit to being a second-rate anything, much less wizard. Rarely does a spirit borrowing the powers of a higher being delve into the craft as it is seen “beneath them,” or “a silly art,” and therefore less useful or effective than whatever magic their deity[?] is providing to them. Make no mistake, artificing is not silly or ineffective. Artificers travel the world in search of components and items to help them craft new spells and enchantments, which is possibly why they are usually seen as gypsies, despite not necessarily having ties with such groups. They are not outcasts, as some more famous wizards have made them out to be, but rather they usually prefer to travel or station themselves away from others. Sedentary artificers usually have homes separate from laboratories, and labs away from communities. These houses are usually low and spacious, unlike wizard's towers, as magick artificing requires a decent amount of contiguous writing area, and they are often sturdier than other homes on the off chance something goes wrong. They also frequently have older designs, as the lack of windows keeps away prying eyes and also makes them seem less of a target for thieves. Any distance they have between themselves and others makes sure they don't accidentally blow anyone or anything [important] up, and gives them a certain level of freedom to experiment that social norms won't allow. Given an artificer's usefulness and inexpensive nature, most artificers that are part of communities are treasured and cared for. A skilled practitioner that is part of a major city may be provided with protection, guaranteed work, and special resources such as components that they may not be able to get with their sedentary lifestyle. "Why hire an artificer as a shot in the dark when you can hire a wizard to light up the darkness?" -Cornelius Blackwood, wizard Artificing has several stages of work. Preparation is key in artificing, and afterward, careful study and use of items. Most of the time, artificers use items that will create the final effect they desire directly. This means that an artificer that wants to make a mist of holy water will usually create a vial of holy water imbued with explosion force and a magical misting agent. Rare is the artificer that can take water, make it holy, and then provide it with the capability to explode into a mist. Doing so requires a strong, innate sense of the magical properties of items, and is seen by most modern practitioners as a different type of artificing, coining the phrase, "Elementary Artificing," as a way to differentiate between them. Component Gathering and Selection Choosing the right ingredients and components is one of the most important parts of an artificer's job. Doing every other step right can amount to absolutely nothing (or worse, an unexpected creation) if the artificer does not have the correct components for what it is they are trying to make. While master artificers are generally just those that have developed many "recipes" for useful things, there is no handbook or surefire way to do any artificing. Substituting the wrong type of mushroom might change the properties of the healing salve and the end result may instead become an aging salve. That is why an artificer must be cautious in what they use, the quality of their ingredients, and the order that they are added in. Many more wealthy and cunning artificers will have ties to merchants that will offer them a look at their goods first, or take on apprentices from families that can provide such connections for them. Some work directly for lords despite the lack of independence it inherently brings in order to gain access to their resources. But the common artificer has to travel of their own volition to gather items they can use, and will frequently perform their craft away from their home to ensure their components don't have the opportunity to spoil. Elemental Breakdown [a hole has been burned in the document] Circles Once an artificer has gathered the items that they require for the creation process, they must draw a magic circle. The type of circle or how it is made is somewhat irrelevant. Circles that function for different purposes are mostly functional for artificing - the only exception seems to be summoning circles, which are ineffective in the process. Alchemy circles and wizardry circles work best, but as long as the patterns are consistent, even seemingly made-up circles will suffice. The patterns must include runes, which must be in a consistent language. It is actually fairly common for the base-form of language groups to be used for artificing circles, as it is easier than learning an entirely separate rune system than what an artificer can already read and write. For elemental artificers, the oromonkaxar raxackuaxagos eb cloaxatien axalo plobollow [text untranslatable]. It is understood that, for the most part, made-up languages and scripts do not work for runes, however, wizards that have dabbled in artificing have claimed their personal languages used for writing in their spell books work just as well for artificing. Confirmation of these claims has been difficult. At least one circle is required per level of "function" you are trying to give to the final item. Circles required are additive, and can become extremely difficult to compose as complexity is added to the process. See the list of functions that require a circle for more information. Final Processes The only other things an artificer needs is to make sure they have candles placed at intersections of their circles, and that they aren't stretching their reagents too thin. This is something that can only be determined through trial and error, and many artificers just keep retrying experiments until they reach a point of failure. Few and far between are artificers of enough talent to simply look at a reagent and know how much is sufficient to carry a procedure through with minimal waste. Such craftsmen are prized, as all reagents are consumed once the magicks have begun to flow. The artificer must have a clear and steady mind to correctly perform their craft, as the weaving of the magicks depends on unerring direction and vision from the master; failure to maintain concentration or a question of what they want to produce can result, in the best of cases, in a defective product, and in the worst, in magical backlash. This is why almost all artificers of any success or renown are famously level-headed and composed. For any trying to learn, I offer this advice: this document is no means a substitute for a teacher. Trying to artifice magicks without a mentor is incredibly dangerous, and has resulted in the death of many, even some grand wizards with great power at their disposal. Seek out a master, learn, and have patience. Do not attempt this if you feel unsteady within, if for even a moment you worry for the outcomes of trying. Preserve yourself, and live to try another day. Reverent caution is the only approach one should have to this simple yet dangerous craft. May you create something none have ever dreamed possible! Appendix Languages Functions requiring circles Testimonies of magick artificer clients [another hole is burned through the document]
  6. Your post in the tavern was great! 

    1. Ellara Archiates

      Ellara Archiates

      Thank you, I appreciate it!

  7. Ellara Archiates

    Tavern of Legend OOC

    Oh, I apologize, I assumed some NPC interactions. I mostly was trying to catch up with another post I’m in, but also wanted to introduce my character in the ToL as is customary, so a I apologize if I did something wrong. Let me know if I need to edit it, I’ll be glad to.
  8. Ellara Archiates

    Tavern of Legend Season 3

    A thin frame approached the Tavern from the normal roads. The building seemed used to travelers, abound with signs of use and welcome, from the indented steps to its still-squeaky, well-oiled hinges. Violet eyes traced over the wooden structure at a peculiarly lengthy distance. ‘I don’t need to stop. I have enough provisions, and if I want a warm meal I can make it myself.’ The figure turned away from the road and started to the forest, disappearing into the fog. She walked with no particular place or goal in mind, as someone that has no particular loyalties left is want to do. Her eyebrows knitted as she mused over whether or not she had enough alchemical supplies to skip another town, and suddenly she came crashing down to the ground with an obvious thud. Bracing herself upwards, her dark hair flew aside as she swiveled back to look at what had tripped her - a lonely bucket of water, now soaking the ground and rapidly muddying her clothes. Embarrassed heat crawled into her visage. She scrambled up and away from the object, swatting at her clothes in an attempt to clean them. Her back met resistance, and she turned to realize she’s at the backside of the same building she’d left what she’d thought was moments before. ‘I don’t remember looping back here...’ A quick glance at her now wet clothes and the shiver slowly building pace within her told her exactly what she didn’t want to hear - she would need to go inside. Edging to the front of the place, the human peered inside from the corner of the window, her already wide eyes looking about to burst out of her head at the sight of so many strangers. ‘Okay, this is fine, you’re fine, you just need to sit by the fire for a bit, maybe trade for some new clothes.’ With an air of uncertainty, she gripped the door handle and pulled hard, only to realize that it was a push door. She felt her whole body flush with a fever-like anxiety as she pressed against it and slammed into the room. Despite having wanted to do exactly the opposite, her entrance drew looks from several patrons, though most went back to their business quickly. She sighed with relief. Noticing a place for weapons, she sidled over, keeping her back to the wall and both eyes glancing around the room, trying to monitor if anyone was still watching her. It was only when she went to remove her quiver that she noticed a probably pretty blond man standing next to her destination, an overdone smile stretching across his face. “Can I get you anythi-“ Ellara would have jumped out of her shoes if she hadn’t laced them properly, her equipment clattering to the floor, and a near-inperceptible hissing sound emanating from within. “I’m sorry,” she screeched, though whether that was to the man, the bar, or the weapons was unclear. A dexterity and precision she had not had while anywhere near this establishment returned as she began rapidly pulling out arrows. She squinted helplessly at each before she resorted to turning them over in her hands. Eventually she found the source of the noise, a silver, bulbous-tipped arrow, with white feathers that almost seemed to shine in the light. Cupping her hand around the ammunition, she shoved her way back to the door, liquid dripping between her fingers as she ran outside, where she threw it with effort into the dirt nearby. It erupted in a moderate amount of light and a cloud of glittering mist, which quickly mixed into the fog and disappeared. She sighed and returned to the tavern proper, a dour look marring her refined face. It wasn’t until she was nearly done packing her quiver back that she noticed the same boy was speaking to her, seemingly apologizing for scaring her. She turned empty eyes to him, unwilling to talk to him, and was startled to see him get slapped on the arm by a red-haired woman. Her voice was commanding: “I think you’ve bothered this lady enough, why don’t you go do some work?” With the help of the woman, Ellara stood and made her way to the fireplace, where she sat on the floor in a dejected heap. She pulled her cloak tighter around herself, mulling over the possibility of finding holy water and blessed silver again, and then panic crept into her grip as she tried to recall the processes and spell needed to make those arrows again. Did she need a personal belonging of a saint, or just the blessing of an arch-priest? Was that holy water magically blessed or just blessed by someone of strong faith? A gentle hand tapped her shoulder and handed her a chip, and the woman explained she could reclaim her equipment with it. Ellara thanked her fervently before she fell back into her moody musings. Eventually her clothes had dried enough that she realized they were going to be stained permanently. Fashion wasn’t a priority for someone whose sole goal was survival, but sometimes survival around sentient creatures hinged on appearances, which was perhaps why she avoided them more often than not. At base, Ellara knew she was attractive, but the amount of effort needed to remain attractive universally was more than she was willing to put in. With a brief sigh, she stood and picked her way to the bar counter to see if she could purchase some clothing. At the slight distance, she gleaned the stance of a merchant in the man behind the bar, and realized no winning personality or well-placed sideways glances would win her any favors with him. All the better, because she really couldn’t work her way through those things. Still not near, she scanned to see if there were any listed prices. She recognized a few numbers, but none of it was helpful because they were all associated with letters of some sort, and a not-particularly-hidden curse was spat to the air as she recognized them to be most likely words. Pushing herself along tables and past patrons, she made her way to the counter and politely inquired about clothing. The man sent someone else to look, and while he was gone, the kind stranger queried about the hubbub when she came in. Normally Ellara did not feel comfortable talking about herself with strangers, but she found herself explaining that she was a magical artificer of little means or status, and that arrow had been extremely valuable to her since it had been crafted from holy water and blessed silver, and she wasn’t sure when either would be available again to her. The man listened to her story, and she found herself frustratedly blurting our her tale of arrival at the place, while he kept expertly tending the bar. When she was almost done, the other returned with a set of clothes, and said they would probably be slightly too big. “Quite alright, you learn to sew quite well when you have to do it all yourself. I’ll take them.” She placed coinage on the counter to cover the items, then collected them into her arms and turned to the weapons counter. Before walking away, she called over her shoulder, “Thank you for your help and kindness,” then waded awkwardly through the room. She was about to leave when a man burst out of a door, being pursued by three others that must have come in while she had been musing at the fire or talking to the barkeep. Her skin crawled looking at them, though she attributed it mostly to their weapons they still had on them. She sidestepped the man’s rushed exit, and as his pursuers went by she studied them. What a curious lot. And then they piled outside, only to find nothing. One of them turned back and shouted at the doorway, “Where did he go?!” Ellara shook her head honestly. “You got me. I don’t know either.” The men seemed frustrated, and one approached her, putting an arm on either side of her and leaning down so close to her face that he was spitting on her when he spoke. “Where. Is he.” Scrunching up her face, she turned away. “With the amount you’ve slobbered on me, you’d think we’d have been making love. I told you, I don’t know.” The person in front of her seemed to only become more frustrated, but one of his comrades jerked him back. “She’s telling the truth. Let’s go.” The man snarled at Ellara as he exited, and Ellara kept her face cool until his back was turned, then stuck her tongue out at him. ‘Jerk.’ Collecting herself and her things, she waited until they had disappeared before stepping outside and looking around. Some sort of magic had been used here. Reaching up, she felt for the leftover threads, then tugged a shimmering piece of the air down and wrapped it around her wrist. It may have been her fault that the man had disappeared, if her holy water had acted as a catalyst for some sort of magic. She had nothing better to do, so she might as well catch dinner nearby, and if he wasn’t holding up, perhaps she would share it with him. She inhaled sharply, a light rain began to drizzle, then she closed her eyes and turned her wrist and it was all gone.
  9. Ellara Archiates

    The Obsidian Dragon. (Chapter 1)

    Unsurprisingly, the other two fighters noticed her appearance on the battlefield. The man honestly seemed stunned by what was happening, but the woman apparently took charge and started yelling something at her from across the way. Although she knew it wouldn’t help her hear any better, Ellara squinted as she tried to understand the jumbled tangle of words flying through the air. It was pointless. Leaning back, she breathed in deep and thought quickly: ‘What is the most logical thing to do here?’ After her pause, the young woman collected herself and reached back, removing a series of arrows from her quiver. She hadn’t necessarily chosen them - it was more like she had let fate decide for her. The first was fletched with blue feathers, with a rounded tip filled with a small amount of water. Second, she had another of her dove-down arrows. The last was black, and had a dark, reflective, flat tip. ‘Interesting. This can work.’ Without much pause, she knocked all three, kneeling and taking a long moment to aim each carefully before releasing the string. As her breath left her, it seemed to push the arrows to fly faster. The white hit one of the creatures’ arms and let out another violent air blast. The blue splattered across the back of another in a cloud of steam that smelled like a blacksmith quenching in brine. The black seemed to have missed, clattering hopelessly to the ground behind one of the monsters. But a half-second later it erupted into a series of gigantic obsidian shards, several of which pierced the nearest target. Ellara smiled shortly, then advanced slightly to put herself in a better position for her next few shots, as the majority of the arrows she had left were designed with shorter range. As she jogged forward, she readied another new arrow, thinking about where it would be best to strike.
  10. Ellara Archiates

    The Obsidian Dragon. (Chapter 1)

    Reaching into the makeshift trap at her feet, a young woman gripped her dinner and carefully cut the twine off its leg. The hare was small, dull, and uninteresting to take in -- not unlike her current life. She gently thumbed the space under its nose, soiling her thin fingers with the crimson blood leftover from when its heart burst, a scowl marring her pleasant features. 'Nothing interesting happens around here anymore. Perhaps it's time to return to the city.' Letting out a long sigh, she stood upright once more. She had her next meal. That would have to be enough for now. As she pushed her lithe frame through the underbrush, her hands flew up over her ears as a horrible screech shattered the of the forest. Animals and critters fled all around her: birds flying overhead, swarms of bugs crawling away; even a deer was so reckless in its terror that it nearly crashed into the huntress's arm as it scrambled past. Ellara too turned away from the noise and leaned into the motion of running before realizing her feet weren't moving. A tremendous thrill lit through her like a flash of lightning, and her adrenaline level began to rise, bringing with it an uneasiness that came close to the feeling of sickness. This was it - this was what she'd been missing. Excitement. Purpose. Passion. Her arms lifted toward her bow, raising it from the quiver on her back. 'Hello again, old friend.' She ran. After sprinting through the woods for a short time, she came stumbling out of the thicket before recovering to the sight of a rather fragile-but-lovely-looking woman standing in front of a man that clearly was not doing so amazingly. The woman's mouth made small motions - she was talking to him. It was impossible to hear from the distance, but Ellara could see the slight movement even from afar. Reaching back to her quiver quickly, she rubbed the familiar and unique fletching of each arrow until she fished one with dove plumage out. She knocked the arrow, inhaled sharply as she raised the weapon and drew, and then a cruel grin stretched over her face as she loosed. Despite the rounded tip of the arrow, it flew in a perfect line and smashed one of the creatures in the back, erupting in a booming burst of air as wind pressure slammed through the monster. As the remainder of the airwave pushed her raven hair out of her face, Ellara laughed with the rush of exhilaration running through her body before she fell silent to realize now she had lost her potential element of stealth. 'Whoops.'
  11. Ellara Archiates

    Old dog, same tricks?

    Hello everyone! For simplicity, you can call me Ellie. To briefly explain myself, I joined RP forums back when I first got on the internet as a kid and was hoping to reconnect with that again since I felt like it really helped my writing to develop. What are the best places to get started? And does anyone know if it's usual/acceptable to post a single character in multiple settings? It seems pretty open, so I feel like the answer is probably, "Yeah sure, whatever dude," but I don't want to annoy anyone by being an idiot. If anyone wants someone to start a thread with, let me know, I might be interested. Thanks for stopping by, too!
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