JeVondair Family/Ayden Tórrarin

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The Duchess of Blades

http://forum.battlemaster.org/index.php/topic,7631.msg156874.html#new

Ayden is of average height, slim, with a high forehead, full lips, and a youthful face. She paints her face with ash most of the time for night hunting. She also has long brown hair that she keeps pinned back in complex braids. Ayden would become a proud and wise warrior who keeps her feelings very guarded, and as someone who is usually unable to show she cares. The vulnerability that results from caring, and particularly loving a person, is something she views as a weakness.This was significantly exacerbated by the death of her family; the anger, grief and subsequent dissipation of the grief hardened Ayden further and first brought her to the attention of Godric of Tor. She is characterized by that mix between vulnerability and tension and a wiseness beyond her years

Ayden Tórrarin.jpeg

Banned (but freed) (8 hours, 6 minutes ago) personal message Chief Justice Sundar Apasurain has thrown you out into the streets, and proclaimed you banned from his realm. If you should return and be caught again, your life is forfeit.

Tortured (8 hours, 6 minutes ago) personal message While you are sitting in your cell in Free State of First Oligarch, one night the cell doors open and Chief Justice Sundar Apasurain enters together with his torturer. Dragging you off, they make your nightmares come true. As you regain consciousness the next morning, you feel your body in the worst possible way. You remember little of the night and are grateful for that. Roleplaying notice: Torture is one of the worst things that can happen to a human being. Sundar Apasurain should be very high on your black list for this. But we will leave it to you whether or not to roleplay that. The abuse of your body has left you sore and with strained muscles. You lost 1 point of your infiltration skill and will have to regain it the slow way.

Dungeon Event (8 hours, 6 minutes ago) message to prisoners of First Oligarch You hear the guards entering a cell nearby, and dragging its inhabitant away. His screams are heard for the next hours from where you know the torture chamber to be.

Roleplay from Godric Tórrarin ka Habb (1 hour, 36 minutes ago) Word reaches Godric of his ward's misfortune and his blood boils. He cannot leave the south, but should he ever find Sundar Apasurain he will make him bleed.

Roleplay from Ayden Torrarin (6 days, 21 hours ago) Message sent to everyone in the region Isadril (9 recipients) "You Remy?"

A dark boot planted on the chair beside him as he sat. The boot was attached to an athletic calf and a knee armored in spiked steel blackened by fire, all belonging to a young woman clad in fitted brown leather armor so dark it seemed black in places...presumably where bloodstains had resisted all efforts at cleansing. Bone-hilts of various implements stuck out seemingly from everywhere. Her face was ashed, making it appear as though black wings swept from the bridge of her nose over her eyes. Long, auburn hair was braided to the crown of her head to fall down past her shoulders, framing a face whose expression carried the message that she'd lost all patience for nonsense long ago. A steel paldron, also singed black and spiked, protected her left shoulder attached to a leather baldric from which hung a wicked-looking curved blade along with a black half-cloak that she flared out behind her as she made a show of inspecting the laces of her boots.

Beneath it all, she might have been conventionally pretty, beautiful, even. But for her eyes. They were the eyes of a soldier, they held stories of suffering, the promise of cold pain, oaths of vengeance. Eyes like those could consume the whole world and still hunger.

And right now, those eyes were locked on Remy...

Nobody commented on the display, this was the Common room of the Black Swan on the other side of the building from where the nobles had their to-do's, weapons and swagger were the norm and those lacking in either tended to end up dead in an alley by dawn.

"Try to kiss me, and I'll slice your throat in your sleep. Call me anything other than my name and I'll drug you first so you're awake when I kill you. Speak too much or too loudly while we're on the move, and the Vix will be the least of your trouble-"

She finished with her boot laces and straightened, hooking her thumbs in a belt already festooned with weapons, "-I'll feed you to the monsters and undead myself. Now that we're acquainted, scoot over. it's crowded, I'm hungry, and we should recoup while we can. It's a long road north. and this is the last hot bath I'll get for a while.

The Imperial Prince and The Sable Jaguar

Roleplay from Asher Renodin - 1 month, 26 days, 16 hours, 46 minutes ago Message sent to everyone in the region Oligarch (46 recipients)

Brutalized

The day had started once again. Smoke rose from a thousand different places all across the huge city of Oligarch. Perhaps half from actual hearths but the rest were borne from malice. Riding through the winding streets Asher's face was covered with a bordeaux scarf. The fabric coming from the good people Gadlock, swamp linnen. A haze of smoke escaped a crumpled building. Slithering past some exposed support beams and engulfing a section of the street. Not quite obscuring the view entirely but certainly cladding passers by in a gauzelike cloak that stung the eyes and beckoned forth tears.

The same could be said for the soldiers that strode through the main boulevard. People were being dragged from their homes, their bodies bruised as angry hands forced them to comply. Strung up along the buildings where roof ornaments where being used as makeshift gallows. Long reed canes used as whips that cut their flesh and left a patchwork of red lines on their raw skin. Asher eyed it as he passed by, not saying a word. A young woman, someone's daughter, was dragged across the streets from her family home. An older man, presumably her father, begged the soldiers to spare her. His balding head a little chubby but only because life had been good to him in the past. His wife clutching the doorframe she stood in. Nails burrowing deep. Falling to his knees, the father wept as his voice broke into a besieging screech. One of the soldiers got annoyed and turned around. Deftly fishing a dagger from its sheath and grasping it firmly in his hand. Before the balding father knew what had happened he was reaching for his throat and gurgled a few more words. His hands tried furiously but could only make a defunct dam and blood gushed through the gaps. Despite the fact that his life was literally slipping through his fingers, he never took his eyes off his daughter.

She had been dragged to the center of the street and now the soldiers had formed a ring around her. Each taking turns in ripping clothing from her fair body. Pushing her around and each time she was shoved into the arms of yet another malicious man, more hands groped her, did her pain, beat her, felt nails scratch her body and eventually, when lust turned to frustration in the soldiers, they beat her again. This time with vigor. They wanted to brutalize her but those orders hadn't been given. As the fair maiden fell to the ground, her body only nominally clad, the skin on her knees broke with the impact. Army boots, the kind that were reinforced and armored, found her body and kicked her without remorse. One particular fat soldier, his mouth frothing as his beady little eyes roved over her exposed body, viciously kicked her in the mouth. The entire tip of his boot vanishing in the action. The corners of her mouth ripped, blood exploded from where her front teeth used to be and what came next from her mouth was a quiet, anguished noise that could not be described with words.

Not waiting for what would come next, Asher looked away and urged his mount on.

Roleplay from Asher Renodin - 1 month, 24 days, 15 hours, 11 minutes ago (Personal message to Ayden Torrarin)

Under the Shroud of an Alley prt1.

"Now, we are here to further the works of Tor. In this hell wrought city I have paid witness to much which brings strength to our dead god. The time grows potent. The Phoenix, an unwilling tool of Tor, is here as well. She is instrumental... I believe that she is a conduit of Tor's will, the price of resurrection." Godric nods solemnly.

"Now. Sirion cannot be cracked. Not at this time. But war will flow to the central regions and the Deep South. That is certain. The swamp people are easily swayed and I am sure my apprentice will aid in drawing them into the conflict. I am curious if tools are available to you, Huntress, that would cause discord amongst us nobility?" Godric turns to his apprentice, "and you, my apprentice, do you have new leads to power amongst the swamp people? Myself, I am supporting the will of the Xerarch while staying aware of threats to the destruction she creates. The Saoi Priestess is one of those threats."

~ Godric Tórrarin ka Habb


While he spoke, she sized up the Apprentice. She could kill him quick as a blink, that was the first thought that came to mind. After all, she was of Tor. The second was that he was rather nice to look at and it would be a shame if she had to. He was clearly no southerner, that she could tell. He had the look of Dwilight about him. But he was fair to look upon...

~ Ayden Torrarin


Standing in the shadows, realization dawned on his face. His lips wordlessly working and his eyes studious like a hawk soaring high above a meadow spying out a golden backed hamster gambolling over and around the dandelions. Before words could be formed and spoken, the Master spoke and Asher listened. His brow lowering from their curiosity and his eyes intent where before they begged him to be allowed to wander over the leather clad woman. His daughter. The thought swam around in his mind. He used his daughter as a tool of Tor? A dear friend.. He pushed the thought away.

There are many leads available and willing ears to listen to the words of Tor. He gave in to the longing request of his eyes and glanced over to Ayden. He hesitated before continuing. Once more looking at Ayden yet this time directly and quickly after he look at Godric. The Sirionites proved me right. When I arrived in their lands along with a third of the Xavax I told the Xavax of the greed of the Sirionites. They wouldn't give us proper land, Oligarch or any other place of real worth. His left hand balled into a fist. The banishment they proclaimed on me was done so out of fear. It now shines as a beacon. He swallowed. As if planned, not an hour passed after the take over of Oligarch or their most favored son, the Tezokian, claims it as his own. The fist is willed un-clenched. Platitudes are offered. Feeble words scribbled by a second rank poet with as much vim and passion as a young harlot bedding a fat merchant. For the coin. Xavax was used and now the fat merchant is tossing his coins.

Taking a step back he takes off the bordeaux scarf and folds it double before putting it back on again. A simple red noose touting a crimson tongue. The Duchess of Eleador, one Sandra Jimenez has vowed to me the title of Oberndorf. His hand instinctively gesturing north. She is being blocked by the Realm's Councillors of Nivemus but she resists them as much as they do her. Prime among them is the Arithagon Gynnjar Plaraveen. A narrow-minded and paranoid man. The Kronogos, ruler, is fond of me but he does not truly rule. He is a Sheppard but there are many wolves in his flock. Looking over his shoulder he finds reassurance in the fact that they indeed seem alone. The Duchess said these words to me: I am a Fontaneese Woman, so I wouldn't care if you burned them down while staying there.

He let a moment pass before speaking again. She meant the Sirionites. Furthermore, the most accomplished assassin of Nivemus recently left the Realm. A dispute over a fabled item in which the Judge, the same Gynnjar Plaraveen, couldn't find a resolution and indeed upset said Assassin. Naturally I wrote words to her. She is called Shorloc of House Soul. Currently resides in Shadowdale but through our correspondence I managed to convince her and she will likely join Xavax when she can.

Continued


Roleplay from Asher Renodin - 1 month, 24 days, 15 hours, 11 minutes ago (Personal message to Ayden Torrarin)

Under the Shroud of an Alley prt 2.

Taking a moment to see what sort of reactions his words had elicited he didn't wait long as a few more lines escaped his mouth. Those three things are the most noteworthy. I still have friends among the Xavax of course and the fallen King, Garas, could be considered a forth.

His golden, shoulder length hair spilling away as it was pulled along by the channeled breeze that cut through the ally. Framing his youthful, angular face. A visage masked. A cheerful interior veiled by the ravages of war. Eyes cerulean like the night-sky just before dusk. That old and hard sapphire sculpted into almonds and set into the face of man.


Roleplay from Ayden Torrarin - 1 month, 26 days, 14 hours, 29 minutes ago Message sent to everyone in the region Oligarch (46 recipients) Ayden whispered through the city, doing her best to avoid, well, everything. Things were bad in Oligarch. She'd seen Sirion troops unleashing decades of pent rage and frustration by brutalizing the locals. Bodies littered the streets where random acts of violence had broken out. The young, the old, the hale, the infirm, the invaders seemed not to discriminate. Splashes and trails of old blood were so common it seemed like a deliberate theme. No matter where she went, the mournful cries of the downtrodden, the warring smells of burning and voided bowels seemed to follow her, assaulting her senses. She'd seen worse, of course. Ayden hoped they found their vengeance one day, as she sought hers, but their worries were not her concern today. Her won family had been raped and murdered by Alaran soldiers and left unburied to rise again as undead, only to be put down again by the Xerarch and her warriors. Ayden had very nearly become a victim herself but for that fateful turn.

The city was a hive of misery, and the Xavax, apparently, were having a party.

Ayden was not surprised in the least. Her people had suffered through atrocities worse than this. Their strength was that they always found something among themselves to celebrate, even if that something was simply being alive. Still, social gatherings of any kind were things that Ayden avoided but for necessity. She was a loner and preferred it that way. Nevertheless, she arrived in the Great Library district in short order. It seemed as though she'd barely laid eyes on the building than she found herself surrounded by fierce looking soldiers yelling at her in a fiercer sounding language, their points finally illustrated by the steal they levered at her. Ayden raised her hands slowly, displaying her weapons but not drawing them, and answered them calmly in their own harsh tongue. These were Toren men, and she was of Tor.


Roleplay from Ayden Torrarin - 1 month, 24 days, 19 hours, 32 minutes ago Message sent to everyone in the region Oligarch (48 recipients) Ayden listened to Godric as a disciple would a prophet. Him being both savior and mentor to her. While he spoke, she sized up the Apprentice. She could kill him quick as a blink, that was the first thought that came to mind. After all, she was of Tor. The second was that he was rather nice to look at and it would be a shame if she had to. He was clearly no southerner, that she could tell. He had the look of Dwilight about him. But he was fair to look upon...

Just then, Ayden noticed movement out of the corner of her eye. She raised a hand to alert her master as a group of 25 armed and armored men bullied their way through the Mounted Toren's perimeter and stormed into the Dragon's Flagon. It was the Gilded Company. She remembered them during her soldiering days with the Fearless. Ayden did not know how or even if they'd breached Godric's perimeter without spilling blood. Without a word, she drew both blades and waited for her Master's command, her body still and pointed toward the threat like a hound on the hunt...


Roleplay from Ayden Torrarin - 1 month, 24 days, 6 hours, 25 minutes ago Message sent to everyone in the region Oligarch (42 recipients) Before the Apprentice or the Huntress can respond, the Gilded Company, their obnoxious banners are undeniable, storms past the poor two Toren in the midst of an argument on the merits of offal fat or lamb's spit as lubricant. The Huntress draws her daggers at the ready tense and ready to strike. Godric places his hand on her shoulder, "My darling, please make sure my Apprentice stays safe as I am about to go kill a few men. Take care not to study the situation too firmly." He draws his axe and bellows out "Brynjar! Here! Now!-"

Ayden was already moving, knives disappearing into sheaths as she grabbed the Apprentice's hand and pulled. "Come, MyÞegn speaks, we move," she whispered urgently, her voice a flat monotone as she ignored the thrill that raced up her spine at the touch of him. When he was too slow to respond, she grabbed a fistful of his shirt and heaved him towards the Flagon, silently grateful that he'd no longer be able to see an errant thought's cross her face. When he veered toward the Inn's front door, Ayden grabbed his hand and pulled him down a side alley...


Roleplay from Ayden Torrarin - 1 month, 24 days, 6 hours, 11 minutes ago (Personal message to Asher Renodin) Ayden listened as Asher spoke. Using the excuse to lean in close to him. He explained important business with important names. She'd served as a scout in the Xerarch's service. Her memory was a perfect record. So while Asher spoke on grand things beyond her ken, Ayden was only partly listening, filing the information to report on later. HIs scent was unique. There was a crisp spiciness to it.

A sudden silence in his rambling drew her back to him. He was looking at her, studying her. Those three things are the most noteworthy. I still have friends among the Xavax of course and the fallen King, Garas, could be considered a forth. His golden, shoulder length hair spilling away as it was pulled along by the channeled breeze that cut through the ally. Framing his youthful, angular face. A visage masked. A cheerful interior veiled by the ravages of war. Eyes cerulean like the night-sky just before dusk. That old and hard sapphire sculpted into almonds and set into the face of man. Ayden knew that these, too, were details she would never forget.

"My Þegn will want you later. Our Xerarch may want you later." She leaned in closer to him, breathing deeply, memorizing his scent. She advanced until his back hit the wood. "But you are banished from Sirion." She continued, her ash-marked countenance a pronounced counterpoint to her body language as her hands felt along the wall behind him. She leaned up into his ear and whispered, "Prime Minister must not see you, but I must keep safe..."

CLICK!

Ayden flipped the latch she'd been feeling for and the pair tumbled through the Servant's Entrance into the unoccupied stable of the Dragon's Flagon

Roleplay from Asher Renodin - 1 month, 24 days, 23 minutes ago Message sent to everyone in the region Oligarch (43 recipients)

A Rough Tumble prt. 1

"My Þegn will want you later. Our Xerarch may want you later." She leaned in closer to him, breathing deeply, memorizing his scent. She advanced until his back hit the wood. "But you are banished from Sirion." She continued, her ash-marked countenance a pronounced counterpoint to her body language as her hands felt along the wall behind him. She leaned up into his ear and whispered, "Prime Minister must not see you, but I must keep safe..."

CLICK!

Ayden flipped the latch she'd been feeling for and the pair tumbled through the Servant's Entrance into the unoccupied stable of the Dragon's Flagon

~ Ayden Torrarin


Godric marched off, axe in hand and an entirely different hand grabbed hold of his. Asher's eyes widened at the impetus of the leather clad daughter of the Hundredslayer. He stumbled forwards as he tried to catch himself, both proverbially and literally. The cobbled road as bumpy as a freshly created bog after a week long downpour on a meadow, or so it felt to him. Clearly not preforming up to standard the feminine hands released only to clutch his shirt. Beginning to utter words of protest Asher fond himself being all but manhandled towards an inn. Confusion finally started to make place for, not excitement, although that was there too, but indignation. He'd never been treated such. Least of all by a beautiful and extremely direct woman. Whom seemed to be of common birth, but was Godric's daughter? Confusion reigned some more.

His eyes spied out a dragon sign dangling from the doorpost of the inn. The clutching, soft hands released again. Asher breathed. His hand instantly gripped with an insistence and again he was being pulled along. This time into a side alley that ran parallel to the Inn. Finally they stopped. Safety eh? well I guess he didn't say stealthy. Asher thought as he looked around and tried to figure out where they were. Not much time for that either it seemed as Ayden leaned in close and then some more. Advancing on him as his words ended. He felt the planks of the building behind him connivingly inform him that there was no more room to fall back into anymore. Her hands trapping him in place as she pressed both of them against the wall. Her voice sweet in his ears and shattering the locks on the great, black, iron gate that held the beast called lust. He smelled her hair as she was so close but there was no time to savor.

The scant light that existed in the alleyway dimmed further. It felt as if he was in water. His eyes saw dark mahogany hair. Her hair? spill over him. Panic tickled the base of his spine and like falling off a horse he felt air racing past his face. Her warm body pressed against his. It made the cold sensation that the dragging air made on his back more pronounced. What was going on? Why did the world tumble? How could he spin? He was falling down. She had pushed him down a hatch. Perhaps not exactly the hatch she had intended.

The landing was hard. A crunching noise it had made and both himself and Ayden were darker because of it. His eyes adjusted to the light and he felt a wave of heat engulfing his skin. Oi, What are you doing here?! A stunted voice called out to them. Clarity returning to his vision Asher beheld a somewhat thickset man. Fat beats of sweat populating his forehead and in his hands a soot stained shovel. A quick glance around informed Asher that he was in some kind of oven room. Himself and his companion laying on a bed of coals yet to be tossed into the hungry fire.

Continued

Roleplay from Asher Renodin - 1 month, 24 days, 23 minutes ago Message sent to everyone in the region Oligarch (43 recipients)

A Rough Tumble prt. 2

Something stung in his lower back but the vitality of youth overcame and so he all but leapt to his feet. That had been his intention but the shifting coals betrayed him and he fell forwards and over his companion. Was that a muffled laugh he heard? The thought of great import yet inconsequential at the same time. He worked himself free of the sea of coals and confronted the man with the shovel. He raised a hand to him. This never happened and you will speak not a word. Asher did his best to look intimidating. As good as an early twenty-something young man can be to a forty odd year, seasoned husband. The matter of his entrance and the soot stains on his clothes didn't help either.

Regardless, the assumed imperious manner that Asher displayed, a trait learned at his father's Court, was warning enough for the wise innkeeper not to press the matter any further. Looking back at Ayden, Asher learned that she was quicker on her feet than he was. Nimbly she escaped the coals and as she did so he instinctively offered her his hand. Meant more as a sign that said This way rather than the actual invitation that it was.

Like schoolchildren they stole away and for all the imagined fun, they came upon a very serious matter. Winding through the poorly lit, warm hallways they could hear voices reaching out to them. At first a male voice. Then more of them. Water splattered and then moist feet clattering on a rock surface. The sounds echoed well but the words often distorted. The tones though, they informed both of them of the gravity of what was being said, even if the words were ineligible. Asher looked at Ayden, his message unspoken but he felt she understood. Instead of going up the flight of stairs they were going down. Deep into the clouds of stream that kept coming from that place. Words started to carry.

Suddenly, at a junction, an old man, a huge old man covered in tattoos rushed by. His towel hanging on for dear life and just barely managing to keep around his waist. The scene stopped Asher dead in his tracks. What the.. he glanced at Ayden before resuming on their way. Where curiosity often leads to discovery and at times bad things, what they came upon next was certainly a discovery and bad things might indeed follow. They stood at the entrance of a spacious room. The shapes of perhaps a dozen people partly obscured by steam and in part thanks due to the ambient light what others might simply call dim. The sounds of water were more than clear and the rush, splash and slosh of it was a stark contradiction in its playfulness with the image of another man on the opposite side of the pool. Ivo? Asher muttered as he looked across the room and the pool at the Prime Minister of Sirion. Surely the air must be spiced with herbs of a stronger kind to invoke such images before his eyes. What else had he just stumbled into?


"The closest thing you are getting to an invitation to my bedchambers is a crossing of blades outside of my family home in Betholm." She glared at him as she said that.

~ Aria Lucchesi Attano


The plain but quality, white linnen shirt Asher wore felt increasingly more damp. His legs covered by leather breeches circled by a fine belt of doe leather and from it hung not just a coin pouch but also a scabbard containing a length of steel originating from his homeland. Nestled around his neck was a bordeaux scarf of silk. In the absence of detail upon its fabric the coil of silk seemed like a great, elongated, autumn leaf given flexibility along with its already present grace. Awarded by a benign sun heralding its departure as it took from the world warmth. So too did Asher's nerves unsettle as he started to recognize the people present.

Roleplay from Ayden Torrarin - 1 month, 23 days, 17 hours, 55 minutes ago Message sent to everyone in the region Oligarch (43 recipients) Asher leaned in further, straining to hear what was being said, but the now-familiar grip of Ayden took hold by the collar of his plain but quality, white linen shirt and pulled him back into the alcove.

"Dangerous for you here" Ayden whispered in warning. Clearly a woman of few words. To avoid choking her charge, the Huntress shifted her grip from his nape to his waist, heaving the larger man into a sideroom he hadn't noticed. A wine cellar. Darkness enshrouded the two as Ayden closed the door shut behind her. Between the ash on her face and the black hunting leathers she wore, she all but vanished right in front of him.

"Less Dangerous for you here." She whispered from the dark. Asher heard a shuffling sound. "The Xavax cannot see you." The sound of flint striking steel. "The elfkin cannot see you." With another strike, flame blossomed upon a torch on the wall, illuminating the form of Ayden in gentle firelight beneath, her back to him. She turned, to face him, blocking the door. "Here, only I see you. For now, you are safe."

Roleplay from Asher Renodin - 1 month, 23 days, 14 hours, 50 minutes ago Message sent to everyone in the region Oligarch (38 recipients)

Ripen with Time

Straining to see and hear what was going on in the main bathing room Asher startled as he felt those hands at it again. Not his own but those feminine hands that worked with intent and a fierceness that warred with a matter of factness in their application. Ayden pulled and heaved and pushed him until she had managed to work him into a nearby side room. Asher fought back this time but the overriding objective of not making any sound quickly proved to be his undoing as she clearly cared less and plainly abused the obvious weakness.

Backing into the dark room Asher all but hissed the words. What are you thinking! You madwoman! Noticing Ayden really didn't care about whatever he just uttered he saw how she markedly turned away from him. That was about all he could see in the raven gloom. Looking left and right in a an attempt to make out where they were was pointless, yet he did it anyway. "Less Dangerous for you here." She whispered from the dark. Asher heard a shuffling sound. "The Xavax cannot see you." The sound of flint striking steel. "The elfkin cannot see you." With another strike, flame blossomed upon a torch on the wall, illuminating the form of Ayden in gentle firelight beneath, her back to him. She turned, to face him, blocking the door. "Here, only I see you. For now, you are safe."

~ Ayden Torrarin


The faint glow from the freshly lit torch cast a warm luminescence over Ayden's features. Slender and compact shoulders firm with muscle giving way to the long and elegant curve of her back and ending with tendrils of light teasingly informing his eyes of her rump. He felt a warmth rush to his cheeks and averted his eyes from her skintight leathers. Rip was a better term but Asher tried to think rationally. His eyes met hers. She stood to block the path leading out. The torch told the story of the room without words. racks of dust covered bottles lined like barracks. White chalk lettering and numbers indicating the grape and year of harvest. Beyond and only faintly visible, the large oak barrels. Small tears running from their top. Early wine tears long dry but to be shed again in the future as the wine was evicted from its temporary wooden home and taken to its next timber residence. Until ultimately, it too would find shelter in permanent glass like those hundreds already seated comfortably in their racks.

You mind explaining why I would be in danger among my own people? Asher tried to look upset and deeply furrowed his brow. A sense of normalcy had to be established. She was still a common born and he was a Noble. Noticing or rather feeling that his shirt had cropped up on his shoulder way too much he dropped the frown and instead focused on smoothing his shirt out. Looking back up at her. Well? Care to speak? Or are you going to drag me into one of those barrels over there next? He indicated the wine barrels in the back of the cellar. Look, whatever you think you need to do, it's fine. Just step aside and you'll see. A hand gestured at the door and at the same time made the signals a horseman would use to calm a spooked horse. While speaking he had taken a slow step towards the door and inevitably, towards Ayden.

Roleplay from Ayden Torrarin - 1 month, 23 days, 14 hours, 6 minutes ago Message sent to everyone in the region Oligarch (38 recipients) You mind explaining why I would be in danger among my own people? Asher said with an expression of consternation furrowing his brow. His indignation missed the mark, not because Ayden wasn't listening, she was filing everything away for later, but her primary focus was not on his words, but on his body language. She studied him passively, her arms crossed, her eyes peering out from the shadows of ash around her eyes. She didn't even blink. Besides, he was very fine to look upon.

He dropped the frown and instead focused on smoothing his shirt out. Looking back up at her. Well? Care to speak? Or are you going to drag me into one of those barrels over there next? He indicated the wine barrels in the back of the cellar. The image stayed with her. Look, whatever you think you need to do, it's fine. Just step aside and you'll see. A hand gestured at the door and at the same time made the signals a horseman would use to calm a spooked horse. While speaking he had taken a slow step towards the door and inevitably, towards Ayden.

The Huntress shifted her weight subtly from her heels to the balls of her feet and uncrossed her arms, placing her hands on her hips. The effect drew attention to her trim waist...and the hilts of various weapons festooned about it. She did nothing to stop him from coming closer however. Instead, she jutted her chin toward one of the nondescript barrels. Coincidentally, it was the same one that Asher had gestured to. His head snapped back and forth between her and the barrel and Ayden belatedly realized that she'd better explain further less she be misconstrued. "Innkeeper Indrik. Done some work for him before. He has a habit."

She stalked passed Asher, her fingers twisted something beneath the barrel and it cracked open to reveal that it was not a barrel at all, but a camouflaged well. Slowly, deliberately turning her back to him, she bent to reach deeper into the fake barrel. She appeared to be working a small handcrank within and soon enough she came up with a wet glass bottle, chill to the touch: A bottle of Tharan's Totan Red. She tossed it to Asher as she past him to resume her post near the door.

"Not safe for you out there, so we stay here. Noblemen like wine, yes? My Þegn will be pleased if his Apprentice is well cared for." For her few words, the huntress did not affect the demeanor of a jailor. There was a tenseness to her that had nothing to do with Asher and everything to do with the nobles beyond the door in the Xerarch's presence. As though she were ready to turn and draw at any second. "We stay here until they-" she hooked a finger over her shoulder, "-are done or My Þegn summons."


Roleplay from Asher Renodin - 1 month, 22 days, 19 hours, 39 minutes ago Message sent to everyone in the region Oligarch (37 recipients)

Before the Storm

"Not safe for you out there, so we stay here. Noblemen like wine, yes? My Þegn will be pleased if his Apprentice is well cared for." For her few words, the huntress did not affect the demeanor of a jailor. There was a tenseness to her that had nothing to do with Asher and everything to do with the nobles beyond the door in the Xerarch's presence. As though she were ready to turn and draw at any second. "We stay here until they-" she hooked a finger over her shoulder, "-are done or My Þegn summons."

~ Ayden Torrarin


Silver droplets transformed as they separated from the chilled wine bottle that sailed through the air. From the shadows they had borrowed sable but from the fire they stole gold. Impossibly small to luscious fullness they danced in the space between Ayden and Asher. Their spectacle invisible to all for their role ever so mundane. To fall to the ground but as they did so, marvels of the imagination they displayed boldly for any keen enough to notice.

Scrambling to catch the wet bottle Asher managed it. It collided with his chest, his lower two ribs to be more precise. A flash of pain manifested itself in a wrinkled nose that he quickly suppressed. Looking down at what his hands had caught he felt confusion and a bit of outrage. Wine?! He spat the word as he looked at Ayden. His eyes full of disbelieve. Before speaking he halted himself. A foot already eager to begin a stride but was held back. Lips moistened with a small and pointy tongue. Your Penguin be dammed!

In a snap motion the bottle experienced new dimensions of speed and excitement. It departed his hand and found itself propelled across the shadowy room. What droplets had refused to leave its surface before now streamed after the fact as they were left behind in mid air. The neck of the bottle met resistance first. It crashed into the wall somewhere off to the right of Ayden by a fair margin. Never intended to actually hit her. It exploded into a deep violet maelstrom of wine and shattered glass. Anger roiled over Asher like black clouds filled with thunder. Being pushed as far away as possible by a fretful gale called will. Before being forced to unleash its enmity in words and actions made of forked lightning. His sapphire eyes took on a new meaning of hardness and his stature shifted and grew.

Words laced with the colors of murder and fatality.

Stand aside.


Roleplay from Ayden Torrarin - 1 month, 22 days, 19 hours, 15 minutes ago Message sent to everyone in the region Oligarch (37 recipients) Ayden's nostrils flared as the scent of very fine wine just spilled filled the cellar. The curve of her lips dipped into a frown, the first note of displeasure she'd yet displayed, then she shrugged, resigning herself.

"No." She said simply as she unbuckled her weapon's belt. It dropped to the ground with a thud. She kicked it behind her and took a step forward, never once taking her eyes off his. He was still very fine to look upon. But since The Apprentice wished to learn the ways of Tor. She was ready to teach him.

Barely an arm's length separated the two now. His sapphire eyes burned into her emerald ones as she widened her stance and centered her weight. The torchlight behind her framed her hair with an auburn halo. Her blinks came slow and her chest heaved completely with air, exhaled, and calmly waited between the Apprentice and the only exit.

"My Þegn will be displeased if I let harm befall his Apprentice..." Roleplay from Asher Renodin - 1 month, 22 days, 18 hours, 11 minutes ago Message sent to everyone in the region Oligarch (37 recipients)

Unbalanced

"No." She said simply as she unbuckled her weapon's belt. It dropped to the ground with a thud. She kicked it behind her and took a step forward, never once taking her eyes off his. He was still very fine to look upon. But since The Apprentice wished to learn the ways of Tor. She was ready to teach him.

"My Þegn will be displeased if I let harm befall his Apprentice..."

~ Ayden Torrarin


Eyes beheld as the sable specter of womanhood stepped away from the door and weapons and advanced upon Asher. Her eyes were like a rare, black jaguar and a stance to match. Her breath measured and her focus singular. The rising fury he had felt a moment before shaped itself into purpose. Asher saw his chance and his eyes shone with perceived opportunity.

Turning to point his right shoulder at Ayden he dropped into a steady crouch. Steadying his breath he drank in every detail he could. The amount of cobble stones between them. Which ones were smooth and which ones stuck out a bit. The fall of the light on Ayden's shoulder and neck. Which way her thumbs pointed and in which direction her feet were indicating. This and more. A shrill sound blossomed into life. A flash of silvery grey warmed by the flickering light of the torch to an amber sheen. A backward skip had created the distance necessary but Asher had no intent to retreat.

His familial sword in hand he continued to absorb every given detail he could from Ayden. The blade double edged and exuding craftsmanship like a handsome man does virility. His swordarm poised to deal a killing blow being within perfect range. The manner of the blow rehearsed in his mind over a dozen times already, in a dozen more different ways in which he could.

There they stood, the choice clear, to resist or to relent.


Roleplay from Ayden Torrarin - 1 month, 22 days, 17 hours, 11 minutes ago Message sent to everyone in the region Oligarch (28 recipients) Ayden said nothing when Asher drew steel. Her eyes followed it for but a moment, committing its dimensions to memory. Filled with wine barrels and other accoutrements as it was, the cellar would constrain them both to limited mobility in close quarters and Ayden felt that they very much in her element.

She made no move to draw a weapon of her own. Her only response was to shift her right foot, which was her lead foot, slightly behind the left. She balanced on the balls of her feet. Other than that, she faced him squarely and stood her ground. Her body was drawn tight as bowstring

"No." She repeated. Her very phlegmatism robbing Asher of his most oft-honed weapon: his words.

If she was going to move, she would have to be moved.

Roleplay from Asher Renodin - 1 month, 22 days, 15 hours, 32 minutes ago Message sent to everyone in the region Oligarch (28 recipients)

Resistance

"No." She repeated. Her very phlegmatism robbing Asher of his most oft-honed weapon: his words.

If she was going to move, she would have to be moved.

~ Ayden Torrarin


The word carried power and it filled the room. While softly spoken it was more profound than the bottle smashing against the wall. When eyes speak they tell tales in an instance and in that moment. Sapphire turned to dark Beryl. With a single handled grip Asher was spartan in his assault. His other hand behind him for added balance. A jab with the tip towards the foot and a quick follow up jab towards the shoulder and the combination finished with a short lunge. Ayden had to fall back in the absence of space to dance around Asher. As she did so he swept backwards with his blade and brought it up for a circular motion ending in a measured chop that brought him forwards. It was centered on her chest and forced Ayden to crash into a wall, awkwardly scrambling for space.

Glancing behind her she could see her weapon's belt. The wall was her ally in that instance for she rolled backwards and added speed with the power of her legs bracing away from its surface. The move caught Asher off guard but he didn't want her to keep him trapped here. Wine or no wine. Advancing quickly to keep up he realized it was to no avail. During her roll Ayden had managed to grasp not one but two weapons. Sizing up his adversary anew Asher noted now easily she held and allowed the dagger to almost flow through her fingers. Never even looking at it. In her other hand she held a longer blade. It was slightly curved and designed to slash but most certainly could deliver a nasty stab if required.

Reach was still in his favor and she had little room to manoeuvre. Not waiting on a battleplan of her own to be revealed he pressed the attack. Continuing the stabs and short chops. Focussing on her wrists and shoulders. Closest for him and instant game changers if she were to get injured. Ayden was resolute in no longer surrendering any more ground than she already had. The door just behind her and the young man she was fighting didn't allow her the lucky break of being able to parry or block or even snare a slashing attack.

The dogged defense both annoyed and impressed Asher. It's not all show then, she's got some of that fighting blood of Godric in her after all. The thought formed in his head. Although he didn't like the fact that he thought so. It meant that he wasn't getting out quite as easily as he intended to. Cease woman! Step aside and you won't have to worry. Or don't and never worry ever again. He emphasized his words with a downward stab aimed at disarming her. At the last shifting the purpose of the stab towards a batting motion against her weapon.

Roleplay from Ayden Torrarin - 1 month, 22 days, 12 hours, 39 minutes ago Message sent to everyone in the region Oligarch (28 recipients) Ayden had always been leery when dealing with nobles. One word from them was enough to see the low-born likes of her strung up. To actually spill noble blood would be a death sentence, regardless of her own benefactors. Cease woman! Step aside and you won't have to worry. Or don't and never worry ever again. He emphasized his words with a downward stab aimed at disarming her. At the last shifting the purpose of the stab towards a batting motion against her longer, right-hand weapon. It was the moment she'd been waiting for-

Ayden did the last thing Asher was likely to expect: she moved. Asher was deadly quick, but his skills had be honed on the training mats. Hers, however, had been honed on the hunt. Instead of the ringing sound of steel on steel, Asher felt her-now familiar grip on his wrist! As he'd brought his sword down to disarm her, instead of meeting or avoiding the strike, Ayden had voluntarily dropped the shorter dagger she'd carried from her left hand and brought that hand across to grapple his wrist so instead of steel, Asher's sword batted nothing but air. Ayden dipped her right shoulder down and swept her left leg over her right, spinning in place to use Asher's forward momentum against him. Her back was to his chest as she used her own momentum to launch his sword arm over her left shoulder and forward, propelling the blade to stab into the wood of the door between the knob and the simple bronze latch that served as a lock, jamming both in place.

Asher had an instant to realize that his precious sword was stuck, but Ayden had never stopped moving. Maintaining her grip on his wrists like a vice, she ducked under the arm. Asher sensed more than felt a tug along his waist as the steel of her curved long-knife kiss leather. That barely had time to register, however, as Ayden, now behind him, brought the knife to his throat and her arm around his waist, holding him tightly. Very slowly, he released the hilt of his trapped sword. He could feel her body pressed against him, and her warm breath in his ear. "Xavax and Sirions do not harm fools-" He swore he could hear a smile on her lips as she gently released him "-I think you would look very foolish if you leave me here now."

Asher's eyes narrowed at the Huntress's added inflection. He knew little of her, save that she was very skilled, apparently fearless, and obviously a woman of few words. He, being exceptionally good with words himself, surmised that she uttered nothing without purpose. It was then that he noticed that Ayden had not retrieved the knife she'd dropped in the scuffle. Gripped in her left hand instead was a belt, it's buckle still fashioned and a clean slice through marring the fine doe leather. As if waiting for him to notice their plight, Asher's fine leather breeches dropped to the ground. With deliberate control, she made a show of tossing his belt over her shoulder, losing it among the wine racks. Then she dropped her longknife before him. And then, working buckles of her own, Ayden finally did smile. Slow and languid. Torchlight danced in her emerald eyes like an open invitation.

After all, Asher was still very fine to look upon...

A New Flame

Roleplay from Roleplay from Ayden Torrarin JeVondair

all nobles of Caligus The First of the Year,

The newest dame of the Griffon Court kept to herself these last wintery weeks. She rarely left the warm apartments her new estate provided for hr in Fontan, though when she did, she could not hide how heavy with child she was...or how alone she was...

Without a man to claim the child, it would be born a bastard. Ayden was characteristically unconcerned, however. She knew who the father was, however she felt about him now. Though Ayden herself had not been born a JeVondair, she'd earned it and the name would be enough to stave off the worst of those who would wish her or the child harm. At least she sincerely hoped so.

It was new years eve when Ayden went into labor. She told no one and allowed no one into the room, even when the pants and screams of her labors woke half the household. Ayden had always done everything on her own, and tonight would be no different. It was just after midnight that she brought a new life into this world. Whispered congratulations made their way gently through the wooden doors as passerby, servants of the household, and those seeking to curry her favor passed by her rooms. They were met with muffled, exhausted thanks from the new mother and the mewling gurgles of the newest member of the JeVondair clan.

The following morning, as the sun approached noon, Ayden received a military summons. Every noble of Caligus was expected to fight if they were able. Now that she was able, fight she certainly would.
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Roleplay from Ayden Torrarin JeVondair

all nobles of Caligus The First of the Year,

The newest dame of the Griffon Court kept to herself these last wintery weeks. She rarely left the warm apartments her new estate provided for hr in Fontan, though when she did, she could not hide how heavy with child she was...or how alone she was...

Without a man to claim the child, it would be born a bastard. Ayden was characteristically unconcerned, however. She knew who the father was, however she felt about him now. Though Ayden herself had not been born a JeVondair, she'd earned it and the name would be enough to stave off the worst of those who would wish her or the child harm. At least she sincerely hoped so.

It was new years eve when Ayden went into labor. She told no one and allowed no one into the room, even when the pants and screams of her labors woke half the household. Ayden had always done everything on her own, and tonight would be no different. It was just after midnight that she brought a new life into this world. Whispered congratulations made their way gently through the wooden doors as passerby, servants of the household, and those seeking to curry her favor passed by her rooms. They were met with muffled, exhausted thanks from the new mother and the mewling gurgles of the newest member of the JeVondair clan.

The following morning, as the sun approached noon, Ayden received a military summons. Every noble of Caligus was expected to fight if they were able. Now that she was able, fight she certainly would.


Misc.

Training Match (6 days, 10 hours ago 1.30.2017)

Ayden Torrarin JeVondair, Dame of An Najaf meets her challenger Ehrendill Eyolf Serpentis, Knight of Trinbar for the agreed training match. Ehrendill Eyolf has decided to use the 'trick moves' strategy while Ayden Torrarin has chosen the 'overrun' strategy, giving Ehrendill Eyolf the advantage. After a series of blows, Ayden Torrarin wins the training match.

Letter from Ehrendill Eyolf Serpentis (6 days, 5 hours ago) Message sent to everyone in the region Fontan (18 recipients) Ouch... Lady Ayden hit me like a gentle hurricane.(...)I was determined to dance, she was determined to run me over.

Ehrendill Eyolf Serpentis Knight of Trinbar


– {{{2}}}


Roleplay from Asher Renodin
Message sent to Ayden JeVondair

A Package from Afar

A weather beaten parcel is delivered to you. It's tied with common string reminiscent in color as in sound when touched, to hay. To protect whatever is inside the string holds a thin leather cloth snug around an otherwise ordinary wooden box. A touch of refinement can finally be spotted when examining the lock. A dark bronze piece that's been carefully fitted. The key to which has been fastened on the inside of the leather cloth with a tailors precision. A simple cut would free it.

Upon opening the box and setting the leather cloth aside one would first behold a simple blanket. Simple in its design for it holds an oaken brown hue. It looks thick and not quite wool. The way it lays there strongly suggests its another cover and was snugly tucked in. Taking it out the small blanket would feel exceptionally soft. Not harsh at all like rough wool can be. Fingers would inform of a blend of materials woven with expert skill into the piece you are holding in your hands now. Kashmir. On the flip-side of the blanket there is an heraldic crest. Surprising perhaps more so than the fact it is there is that its embroidered in gold-tread. A two headed Lion. One head facing East and the other facing West. One familiar with such things may recognize that one of the two heads resembles that of the Crest of House Renodin, the other, the Lion of House JeVondair.

Under the Blanket one would find a another wrapped parcel, rather thin this time. Upon unwrapping it a portrait of Asher is revealed. Glacial blue eyes, golden hair, fine and slightly angular lines. On the back of the portrait is a signature belonging to Asher himself. Its marked over two words Sable Jaguar. The box further presents a diligent searcher with a small, wood carved figurine of a horse. Clearly not the work of an expert but diligently sanded down. There's also a a small jar containing dry, sugary delights. Another corner of the box relinquishes a belt clasp. Upon inspection it's slightly damaged, the sort caused by scraping it along stone. Finally, almost at the bottom of the pile, a carefully folded parchment.

It's sealed with a thick, carmine lump of wax. The image pressed into it unmistakable, that of Asher Renodin.

Ayden,

Without cause or even having seen or being given confirmation or any token of his countenance or life, I send you these effects. I don't even know his name. I hope he is well.

Asher


The parchment is rather large for such a small message. Far larger than required. The words have been written deliberately and with care. A faint imprint on the bottom right halve of the parchment suggest an arm rested there for a prolonged time. Pondering perhaps but never springing into action.

Almost by chance, on the bottom of the humble, wooden box you discover an engraving. Again, a horse, alongside a campfire next to which a heavy looking book stands and accompanying it there is a wine bottle with coiled around it, a broken belt cut in two. The Campfire looks strangely calm or cozy.
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Asher Renodin


CAPTURED

9-9-18 Age 34 Supra While stealing tax gold durig caligus TO

You have been captured by a bunch of rogues, and from what you can guess through the dark hood they threw over your head, you are being brought deep into the forest. You have no idea what they might be up to.
Your family Paid the ransom of 136 to your rogue captors, ensuring your release.
You have now changed your main class to that of the Warrior.You have stepped forward and proclaimed yourself a Hero. Only time will tell if you actually are.

Her First Battle

Age, 35 Nascot, Forests of Shadowdale, East Continent Germanico Mercator, Representative of Meuse has been wounded by Redhaven Rangers (17). Lady Ayden Torrarin JeVondair, Duchess of Blades, Margravine of Krimml has been captured by Dark rain (34). Greg Perdan 74 Arch skirmish 702 Immediately Escaped

An Ironically Tragic End

Lady Ayden Torrarin JeVondair, Duchess of Blades, Margravine of Krimml has been killed by Angry Peasants (38) during a skirmish in Bescannon -Perdan on 11/21/2018 She leaves behind her son, Nemean Renodin JeVondair

Sir Nemean,

You are a puzzle and a challenge to me. I freely admit that. I also freely admit that your father and I were not friends, nor were we on good terms. In truth I despised him. He treated your mother like a whore, toyed with her feelings as a child would a doll. I dedicated my life to her before her passing.

You've told me a bit about what you remember of her, allow me to tell you what I remember.

I remember her kindness, and her smile. I remember the way she made me feel when she walked into a room, I remember the way her smile - rare as it was - had the power to actually make me stop, and take a breath. I remember her ferocity in battle and I remember her gentleness outside of it. She was firm, but she was fair. She was calculating brutal, and determined. But she was never cruel - much like the Xerarch. She would kill without question, but never without reason.

She was both a Lioness, and mother wolf protecting her den and her pups.

I have not finished avenging your mother. I made a solemn vow to the Xerarch, that I would hunt down and kill anyone and everyone that had a hand in, profited from, or was part of her death. I would kill anyone that looked at me wrong in that venture. I've not yet fulfilled that vow. But I will. And they are going to wish they never touched a hair on her head.

I became the Duke of Blades to honor her, but I also became the Duke of Blades to remind the world, that Ayden was not dead, not as long as I draw breath, not as long as she lives on in my heart and my mind. I became Duke of Blades to remind the world, that I was coming. And I would bring death to those that stood in my way.

Blood and Steel,

– Andross Blint, Duke of Blades


Out-of-Character from Godric Tórrarin ka Habb

(Personal message to Nemean JeVondair Renodin) - 2 hours, 1 minute ago

Ayden was intense. She was not affectionate, instead possessive. She saw her family murdered and her father became an undead: she had to be saved from being killed by him. Her mother figure was Selenia and theoretically father figure was Godric. She did not know parental love with them, rather admiration.

She was a mother only for the very early years of Nemean's life, even less than the short time with her biological family (I think she was 10-12 when they were killed?). I don't think she softened or truly learned what it was to be a mother. If he has memories they would be scant and fragmented. Perhaps a song or a memory of some rare kindness. Maybe her absence and distance, as enthralled as she was with her goals of service or revenge.

Ayden was considered a full-blooded Toren and was taught the ways by Godric, I think if she intended Nemean to be Toren she would have had Godric teach him but that is no longer a possibility. Godric considered Asher to have fallen to one of the grave sins of Torenism and never attained its teachings.

I think, especially compared to an aged and motherly Selenia, Ayden was lackluster. The lack of consistent memories definitely allows Nemean to paint a self-serving image of his mother, perhaps to emulate Selenia or supercede Selenia.

Just my unorganized thoughts. I hope they're helpful.


– Dillan Mendonca