April 11, 1650
It was Ariada's 80th birthday celebration. The fires raged high, the dancers twirled around casting mystical spinning shadows across the forest floor. The flutes whistled cheerily, piping a tune that made all the party-goers tap their feet and clap their hands. Ariada sat by her father's side, a beaming smile plastered on her bright face. She had looked forward to this moment for a long time; the day when she would join her father in the running of their clan. She took a gulp of her liquor and clapped along to the flutes with a laugh. The piping rose into a high-pitched frenzy, topping off with a flourish. That was when Ariada heard it; her long ears twitched towards the shaded trees, and she turned around swiftly, grabbing her bow and putting an arrow to the string as she did.
They ran from the trees, battle cries tearing from their throats; thousands of wood elves armed with bows and swords, intent on wiping out this rogue clan. The Breth'nor reached for whatever weapons lay nearby, but they were largely unarmed and unprepared. The battle raged throughout the night and all the next day, until the Breth'nor lay slain all around the floor of the forest that was their home. Finally, only Ariada and her father were left standing, facing thousands of their kin bearing down on them with blood-spattered weapons and faces, grim determination plastered on their faces.
"Lay down your arms, Aragi!" called out the chief of the elder council, pushing his way to the front of his army. "You are defeated. Surrender now and we will spare you and your daughter." Ariada lowered her bow and looked at her father pleadingly.
"They are our people, father," she whispered. "They are not orcs or demons invading our forest. How can we continue to defy them?" Aragi hesitated as he looked at his daughter. The next moment his face hardened, his mouth turned defiant.
"Never!" he cried, whipping up his bow and releasing an arrow in the direction of the council chief. He was dead as soon as the arrow left his string, ten bolts sprouting from his chest as he fell to his knees. The council chief casually swatted aside the arrow that had been his last opposition, and approached the pair with his sword by his side.
Ariada knelt beside her father, holding back tears of grief as she kissed him farewell and closed his eyes. She drew herself up slowly and gracefully until she stood facing her fate. The chief eyed her warily, gripping his sword with fingers that twitched. She stared him down, emerald eyes icy with hate and glimmering with unshed tears. "If you wish to kill me, allow me the honor of going out fighting," she said, clutching her bow with white knuckles, her nails digging into her palm. "I will not submit to be your captive, to lord over all elven kind your defeat of my clan."
The chief smiled fiercely, baring sharp, fang-like teeth between his thin lips. He took a step closer and looked her over as if he were appraising a horse. "Ariada Breth'nor, you are every bit as fiery as your honored father," he sneered, with a wave at the body on the ground before him. He took her hand with a nod of approval. "I give you this choice. Your clan is defeated, you may no longer bear their name. Take mine, as my wife -- or suffer banishment and ostracism from the race of wood elves forevermore."
Ariada pulled her hand from his grasp and hissed, “I will never marry you. If you and I were the only elves left in this world, I would go to the far ends of the universe to avoid meeting with you. I would rather live alone for the rest of my immortal life than suffer the ignoble fate of serving my family's murderer day after day, until I finally snap and strangle you in your sleep.” She spat on the ground at his feet.
The chief's mouth twitched, and he plastered a forced smile on his face. “Very well, you have made your choice.” He turned to his guards and ordered, “Escort Ariada Nameless to the edge of the forest and deposit her there.” He turned abruptly on his heel and led the rest of the elves back to the depths of Kylar, their greens and browns swiftly blending with the colors of the woods around them until the army of elves faded back into the forest that was their home.
The guards took Ariada by the arms, and led her toward the forest edge. She shook them off, and walked of her own accord, angry pride swelling in her breast. She would not be bound by the laws and customs of elf-kind! If they could betray her and her clan, if they could slaughter hundreds of their own race, then she would have no feelings of duty or honor to hold her back to their world. She felt as if a boulder had been lifted from her chest, she almost felt that she could fly on wings of freedom. She would make her own way in the world, apart from the elves and their plots and wars. And then, one day, when she had finally made something spectacular of herself, she would strike, avenging her family's deaths and proving to those myopic elves once and for all that Brethnor was not a name to be taken lightly.
As they reached the edge of the forest, the guards stopped and shoved Ariada forwards. She stepped out from the tree line into an open field, shuddering at the barrenness and lack of cover. She turned back to look at the guards, but they had already disappeared into the bowels of the forest. She was truly on her own.
She slung her bow and quiver over her shoulder, jutting her chin out and stubbornly setting out into her new life.
[ORP] Ariada's House of Vengeance
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Ariada
[ORP] Ariada's House of Vengeance
Last edited by Ariada on Sun Apr 21, 2013 3:28 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Ariada
Re: [ORP] Ariada's House of Vengeance
April 11, 1653
Ariada had been on her own for three long years when she finally re-entered civilization in the form of the town of Imperius. She had been scouting the area for several weeks, observing the goings-on of the people, trying to determine if this were the place where she could finally start her plan of re-making herself into something terrifying to those traitorous elves. Having made up her mind to pursue a life here, she at last entered the town.
The townsfolk were a strange mix of races, though mostly human. The humans she did not mind, but she spied orcs and elves and even a dragon amongst the populace. She was accustomed to viewing these as threats, and it was a struggle to keep her bow firmly over her shoulder and she wandered the town with them.
She applied at the town hall for a place to stay, and was provided with a cozy shack on the outskirts of town. She was pleased with her new abode, especially that it was so near to the forest. Three years outside of her home woods had not yet been enough to cure her of her discomfort anywhere else. She made a small improvement to her little house by cutting a hole in the thatch roof above her bed, to allow the night air and starlight to stream in over her slumbering head. She found it impossible to sleep in the confines of four walls and a roof, having spent all her 83 years in the openness of nature's embrace.
Ariada spent her first day in the woods, gathering décor for her new home. The wooden walls and shuttered windows made her think of death and destruction, so she swiftly covered them up with creeping vines, blossoming flowers, and bright leaves. A pine marten followed her back, and curled up on her bed for nap. By the time she had finished her decorating project, the marten was awake, and sniffing at her pockets for a snack. Ariada grinned, and dug out a handful of nuts for him to eat. “Caught me out, have you?” The marten chattered at her happily and munched on his meal. “Pipper, eh? Strange name. Well, you're welcome in my home anytime, as are your friends. But I'm not running a restaurant, mind, hunt for your own food,” she replied, wiping the crumbs off on her trousers.
By the next day she had set aside some of the currency of this kingdom, and decided to apply to the town hall for a field. She had observed that this was the way of the citizens of this land to better themselves, and since her plan involved become the best she could be, she decided to follow this path as well. The mentor who signed her papers recommended to her a corn farm, so she took that with a shrug, not knowing what any of the strange products listed meant.
She returned to her house to find Pipper and a friend trying desperately to get into a bag of corn that the town hall messenger had sent over. “Hey,” she called out, shooing them away. “I told you, no eating my food.” The new marten ran out the door, but Pipper just settled himself by the fire with a smug look on his face. “You're going to be trouble, aren't you?” Ariada muttered, putting a pot of water over the fire.
She propped the door open with a stone, and prepared a pot of tea, hoping some visitors might come by. She had met a few of the citizens in a tavern called The Mysts, where beings from far away lands were portalled magically together for the night. She viewed it as vital to her success in this new land that she meet and learn about these residents; besides, she never knew who would be helpful to her on her path.
Ariada had been on her own for three long years when she finally re-entered civilization in the form of the town of Imperius. She had been scouting the area for several weeks, observing the goings-on of the people, trying to determine if this were the place where she could finally start her plan of re-making herself into something terrifying to those traitorous elves. Having made up her mind to pursue a life here, she at last entered the town.
The townsfolk were a strange mix of races, though mostly human. The humans she did not mind, but she spied orcs and elves and even a dragon amongst the populace. She was accustomed to viewing these as threats, and it was a struggle to keep her bow firmly over her shoulder and she wandered the town with them.
She applied at the town hall for a place to stay, and was provided with a cozy shack on the outskirts of town. She was pleased with her new abode, especially that it was so near to the forest. Three years outside of her home woods had not yet been enough to cure her of her discomfort anywhere else. She made a small improvement to her little house by cutting a hole in the thatch roof above her bed, to allow the night air and starlight to stream in over her slumbering head. She found it impossible to sleep in the confines of four walls and a roof, having spent all her 83 years in the openness of nature's embrace.
Ariada spent her first day in the woods, gathering décor for her new home. The wooden walls and shuttered windows made her think of death and destruction, so she swiftly covered them up with creeping vines, blossoming flowers, and bright leaves. A pine marten followed her back, and curled up on her bed for nap. By the time she had finished her decorating project, the marten was awake, and sniffing at her pockets for a snack. Ariada grinned, and dug out a handful of nuts for him to eat. “Caught me out, have you?” The marten chattered at her happily and munched on his meal. “Pipper, eh? Strange name. Well, you're welcome in my home anytime, as are your friends. But I'm not running a restaurant, mind, hunt for your own food,” she replied, wiping the crumbs off on her trousers.
By the next day she had set aside some of the currency of this kingdom, and decided to apply to the town hall for a field. She had observed that this was the way of the citizens of this land to better themselves, and since her plan involved become the best she could be, she decided to follow this path as well. The mentor who signed her papers recommended to her a corn farm, so she took that with a shrug, not knowing what any of the strange products listed meant.
She returned to her house to find Pipper and a friend trying desperately to get into a bag of corn that the town hall messenger had sent over. “Hey,” she called out, shooing them away. “I told you, no eating my food.” The new marten ran out the door, but Pipper just settled himself by the fire with a smug look on his face. “You're going to be trouble, aren't you?” Ariada muttered, putting a pot of water over the fire.
She propped the door open with a stone, and prepared a pot of tea, hoping some visitors might come by. She had met a few of the citizens in a tavern called The Mysts, where beings from far away lands were portalled magically together for the night. She viewed it as vital to her success in this new land that she meet and learn about these residents; besides, she never knew who would be helpful to her on her path.
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Ariada
Re: [ORP] Ariada's House of Vengeance
Ariada sat down to enjoy her cup of tea with a happy sigh, watching out her open window and door as the leaves of the nearby forest whispered softly in the breeze. She could hear the trees speaking to her, telling her their woes and their worries. They feared the encroachment of civilization, the expansion of this thriving town. They had lost many of their residents, the creatures of the forest having scurried deeper into the woods to hide from the many humans and beasts that inhabited Imperius. Ariada nodded sadly, and sent out calming, reassuring thoughts to her brethren of the forest, promising them she would do her best to protect them from the dangers they feared. Pipper jumped up on the table and added his own encouraging chirp before exploring the contents of the sugar bowl intently. Ariada grimaced, and waved him away.
A gust of wind blew through the open window, sending a shiver down Ariada's arms. She glanced at them, expecting to see goosebumps, but instead caught a glimpse of pale red scales flashing across her skin. She gasped, and blinked her eyes, certain she had been seeing things. Her skin was perfectly normal again, with no trace of the mysterious scales. She ran her fingers over her arm, and felt nothing but her usual skin. She shrugged, and checked her tea for unsuspected substances. There was nothing but tea leaves inside. Must've imagined it, she thought to herself, returning to listening to the shushing of the leaves.
She absently pulled some nuts from her pocket and offered them to Pipper, who cheerfully grabbed as much as he could stuff in his mouth. “You look like a chipmunk,” Ariada commented drily. Pipper scolded her for rudeness and continued munching on his meal. She snorted, thinking it was ironic that a pine marten should be strict about manners. As she laughed, a puff of smoke blew threw her nostrils, swirling around in her tea. She covered her nose with one hand, as she stared at the dissipating stream of smoke that had escaped with her breath. That is not normal, she thought, feeling her nose nervously. I am definitely not imagining things...
A gust of wind blew through the open window, sending a shiver down Ariada's arms. She glanced at them, expecting to see goosebumps, but instead caught a glimpse of pale red scales flashing across her skin. She gasped, and blinked her eyes, certain she had been seeing things. Her skin was perfectly normal again, with no trace of the mysterious scales. She ran her fingers over her arm, and felt nothing but her usual skin. She shrugged, and checked her tea for unsuspected substances. There was nothing but tea leaves inside. Must've imagined it, she thought to herself, returning to listening to the shushing of the leaves.
She absently pulled some nuts from her pocket and offered them to Pipper, who cheerfully grabbed as much as he could stuff in his mouth. “You look like a chipmunk,” Ariada commented drily. Pipper scolded her for rudeness and continued munching on his meal. She snorted, thinking it was ironic that a pine marten should be strict about manners. As she laughed, a puff of smoke blew threw her nostrils, swirling around in her tea. She covered her nose with one hand, as she stared at the dissipating stream of smoke that had escaped with her breath. That is not normal, she thought, feeling her nose nervously. I am definitely not imagining things...
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Ariada
Re: [ORP] Ariada's House of Vengeance
The healer peeled back Ariada's eyelid and peered into her deep green eye. “Hmm,” she mused, checking the other eye.
“What is it? Is it serious?” Ariada asked, a worried note in her usually steady voice.
The healer leaned backward, rubbing her chin thoughtfully with one hand. “Tell me of your family,” she commanded, frowning at Ariada.
Ariada wondered to herself what her family could possibly have to do with her breathing smoke and growing scales. “My father was Aragi Breth'nor, chief of the wood elf clan Breth'nor. I never knew my mother, and I was an only child.”
The healer's eyes lit up at the mention of her mother. “You never knew your mother? Was she a wood elf? What do you know of her?”
Ariada shrugged, a twinge of pain twisting in her heart. “Nothing, my father never spoke of her. I assumed she was a wood elf, too. My clan never had much interaction with any other races.” The healer nodded, and took a poker from the fireplace. Without warning, she reached over and jabbed Ariada in the arm with the red-hot end of the poker. “Ow!” cried Ariada, instinctively grabbing the injured spot on her arm. The healer gently removed her hand from the burn and examined it. Rather than finding a bright red blister, as Ariada had expected, she saw that her arm had turned to glistening red scales around the spot the healer had poked. She raised her arm up to her face, examining the spot in awe. “What... what is it?”
“Yes, yes, as I thought,” the healer murmured, pulling at the scales until they faded back to skin, without any sign of having been burnt. Finally she looked up at Ariada's bewildered face. “You are part-dragon,” she announced, with certainty in her tone.
Ariada gaped at her, confused. “Dragon?” she demanded. “No, no, that's ridiculous,” she shook her head virulently. “I'm a wood elf, see?” She wiggled her long, pointy ears and swiftly grew vines from her fingertips to prove her point. The healer pushed her hands away calmly, and the vines disappeared back into her nails.
“Yes, you are a wood elf, but you are also part-dragon. I believe your mother was a dragon. A fire dragon, to be specific,” she added cheerfully. Ariada glared at her, wanting very much to slap the cheeriness out of her voice.
“My mother was not a dragon. My father hated dragons!”
The healer made a face of disbelief. “I don't pretend to understand the elf-psyche, but I would only note that he hated dragons in your lifetime, and you never knew your mother... ergo, something happened to your mother, a dragon, before you gained awareness of her absence.” Ariada bit her lip to stop herself from saying something sharp. She paid the healer with a mumbled thanks, and left hurriedly.
My mother? A DRAGON? She thought to herself as she walked home. Not possible. The healer must be crazy. And yet, she had no other reasonable explanation for her symptoms. She had never known her mother... and what the healer had said about the reason for her father hating dragons did make sense...
She continued debating the question all the way home. There, she found Pipper and a friend arguing in the window. “Hey, hey!” she called, shooing them apart. “What's this about?” Pipper chattered at her angrily. “Well, just give him back the nut,” Ariada suggested, not at all in the mood to mediate their dispute. Pipper climbed up onto her lap, jabbing a claw in her stomach as he continued yelling about the other marten. Ariada sighed. “I don't care, Pipper, sort it out yourself. I have bigger issues.” She removed the marten from her clothes and set him back on the window sill, heading into the house to look through her personal things.
She'd been able to save very little from her home when the wood elf council had massacred her clan and expelled her from the forests, but she had managed to salvage a few important items. She pulled these from a drawer now, sifting through them until she found the painting she was looking for. It was a portrait of her family from when she was a baby, before her clan had left the wood elves' capital. She had never thought much of the picture before, but now she inspected it closely. Her father held her, and next to him on either side stood his brothers, and their wives next to them. Some other children stood or sat in the foreground. Behind her father stood his three sisters and their families. Ariada recognized them all, except one. She squinted closely at the image. Immediately behind her father, barely visible over one shoulder, stood a strange woman. She was definitely not a wood elf; but Ariada could not make out who or what she was. She almost seemed to blend into the background of the painting, as if she did not wish to be seen.
Ariada sighed and threw the picture down angrily. All her family were dead, who could she ask to find out more information? How could she find this woman?
“What is it? Is it serious?” Ariada asked, a worried note in her usually steady voice.
The healer leaned backward, rubbing her chin thoughtfully with one hand. “Tell me of your family,” she commanded, frowning at Ariada.
Ariada wondered to herself what her family could possibly have to do with her breathing smoke and growing scales. “My father was Aragi Breth'nor, chief of the wood elf clan Breth'nor. I never knew my mother, and I was an only child.”
The healer's eyes lit up at the mention of her mother. “You never knew your mother? Was she a wood elf? What do you know of her?”
Ariada shrugged, a twinge of pain twisting in her heart. “Nothing, my father never spoke of her. I assumed she was a wood elf, too. My clan never had much interaction with any other races.” The healer nodded, and took a poker from the fireplace. Without warning, she reached over and jabbed Ariada in the arm with the red-hot end of the poker. “Ow!” cried Ariada, instinctively grabbing the injured spot on her arm. The healer gently removed her hand from the burn and examined it. Rather than finding a bright red blister, as Ariada had expected, she saw that her arm had turned to glistening red scales around the spot the healer had poked. She raised her arm up to her face, examining the spot in awe. “What... what is it?”
“Yes, yes, as I thought,” the healer murmured, pulling at the scales until they faded back to skin, without any sign of having been burnt. Finally she looked up at Ariada's bewildered face. “You are part-dragon,” she announced, with certainty in her tone.
Ariada gaped at her, confused. “Dragon?” she demanded. “No, no, that's ridiculous,” she shook her head virulently. “I'm a wood elf, see?” She wiggled her long, pointy ears and swiftly grew vines from her fingertips to prove her point. The healer pushed her hands away calmly, and the vines disappeared back into her nails.
“Yes, you are a wood elf, but you are also part-dragon. I believe your mother was a dragon. A fire dragon, to be specific,” she added cheerfully. Ariada glared at her, wanting very much to slap the cheeriness out of her voice.
“My mother was not a dragon. My father hated dragons!”
The healer made a face of disbelief. “I don't pretend to understand the elf-psyche, but I would only note that he hated dragons in your lifetime, and you never knew your mother... ergo, something happened to your mother, a dragon, before you gained awareness of her absence.” Ariada bit her lip to stop herself from saying something sharp. She paid the healer with a mumbled thanks, and left hurriedly.
My mother? A DRAGON? She thought to herself as she walked home. Not possible. The healer must be crazy. And yet, she had no other reasonable explanation for her symptoms. She had never known her mother... and what the healer had said about the reason for her father hating dragons did make sense...
She continued debating the question all the way home. There, she found Pipper and a friend arguing in the window. “Hey, hey!” she called, shooing them apart. “What's this about?” Pipper chattered at her angrily. “Well, just give him back the nut,” Ariada suggested, not at all in the mood to mediate their dispute. Pipper climbed up onto her lap, jabbing a claw in her stomach as he continued yelling about the other marten. Ariada sighed. “I don't care, Pipper, sort it out yourself. I have bigger issues.” She removed the marten from her clothes and set him back on the window sill, heading into the house to look through her personal things.
She'd been able to save very little from her home when the wood elf council had massacred her clan and expelled her from the forests, but she had managed to salvage a few important items. She pulled these from a drawer now, sifting through them until she found the painting she was looking for. It was a portrait of her family from when she was a baby, before her clan had left the wood elves' capital. She had never thought much of the picture before, but now she inspected it closely. Her father held her, and next to him on either side stood his brothers, and their wives next to them. Some other children stood or sat in the foreground. Behind her father stood his three sisters and their families. Ariada recognized them all, except one. She squinted closely at the image. Immediately behind her father, barely visible over one shoulder, stood a strange woman. She was definitely not a wood elf; but Ariada could not make out who or what she was. She almost seemed to blend into the background of the painting, as if she did not wish to be seen.
Ariada sighed and threw the picture down angrily. All her family were dead, who could she ask to find out more information? How could she find this woman?