Daubeny Family/Elizabeth/In the South

Roleplay from Valian Stone Daubeny Player experience level: experienced Player play preference: rp Message sent to everyone in Heralds of Obeah (24 recipients) - just in In the South PT 1

The sun was shining today. For the first time since Elizabeth came to the Old Obian southlands, it wasn't overcast.

Elizabeth picked yet another winter rose while humming her quiet song. According to the book she had been gifted back in Rines. she’d picked nearly twenty of these Hellebores – a gift for the Prelate-turned-Grandmistress who’d taught her so much along the way. In many ways, Kristina had helped shape Elizabeth into who she was now. Despite her youth, she knew that only a few years would see her take on the mantle of Dame. Childhood would end as a proper noble of the realm rises in its place.

Smiling at nothing in particular, she continued to pick over the hill; spotting another Hellebore patch hidden beneath the sheltering canopy of a nearby tree. Covered in a thick layer of snow, the Droxagan hills constant windchill kept the snow from properly melting.

Wrapped in a thick jacket, her purple scarf fluttered in the breeze; beneath the crimson knit cap her uncle had once gifted her. It seemed only yesterday she’d left on her southward journey; and yet it may as well have been a lifetime ago.

Flowers in hand, she crested the next hill and stopped in her tracks. A writhing, shambling mass, the sudden undead tide seemed strangely idle as a group of hooded figures at their core stood brooding amid standing stones. As they gestured with their staves, Elizabeth felt an almost tangible energy in the air.

Without warning she held her breath; golden eyes beginning to softly glow as she reacted to the dark magick in the air. Strange scenes flashed before her eyes: phantom images of suffering and death; of horrid acts perpetrated by vile creatures. Most powerful of all was the hand, skeletal yet glowing, as it reached out to grasp Elizabeth’s throat.

Yelping in fear, she stumbled backwards; slipping hard into a downhill roll. A groan of pain was her only protest as she reached the bottom, glancing down to ensure the flowers were mostly intact.

It was then that she noticed the five shambling figures cresting the hill. Their blue-eyed gazes felt ice-cold upon her as they quickly advanced with rusted swords and chipped axes in hand. Though still reeling from the fall, her proximity to the undead nonetheless mutated the ever-present tune of softly ethereal music into a discordant cacophony. Shrieking in pain, Elizabeth’s arm cast out in reflex as golden lighting arched from her fingers and into the shambling undead. Between the eyes each bolt did strike before they fell smoldering upon the ground.

Roleplay from Valian Stone Daubeny Player experience level: experienced Player play preference: rp Message sent to everyone in Heralds of Obeah (24 recipients) - just in In the South PT 2

Cold and shaking, Elizabeth felt her energy all but drain away. Without a second thought she ran back to the small cottage that she and Kristina had found; stumbling wildly through the door.

Kristina cast her a concerned, almost nervous look, causing Elizabeth to wear a tired smile. "I’m back, Mistress." Unwilted, though in some cases slightly crushed, the young girl held out a batch of lovely snow-touched flowers. "For you, Mistress, as thanks for… for caring for me and, congratulations for winning the election."

The girl sat before the table and let out the deep sigh of someone offloading a heavy burden. "There are many undead out there. I think it would be good to leave soon... As soon as you are ready, of course." Clearly on edge, her eyes bore a look of worry. Meanwhile the tiny, barely noticeable streaks upon her cheeks betrayed the tell-tale marks of hastily-wiped tears. The sun was shining today. For the first time since Elizabeth came to the Old Obian southlands, it wasn't overcast.

Elizabeth picked yet another winter rose while humming her quiet song. According to the book she had been gifted back in Rines. she’d picked nearly twenty of these Hellebores – a gift for the Prelate-turned-Grandmistress who’d taught her so much along the way. In many ways, Kristina had helped shape Elizabeth into who she was now. Despite her youth, she knew that only a few years would see her take on the mantle of Dame. Childhood would end as a proper noble of the realm rises in its place.

Smiling at nothing in particular, she continued to pick over the hill; spotting another Hellebore patch hidden beneath the sheltering canopy of a nearby tree. Covered in a thick layer of snow, the Droxagan hills constant windchill kept the snow from properly melting.

Wrapped in a thick jacket, her purple scarf fluttered in the breeze; beneath the crimson knit cap her uncle had once gifted her. It seemed only yesterday she’d left on her southward journey; and yet it may as well have been a lifetime ago.

Flowers in hand, she crested the next hill and stopped in her tracks. A writhing, shambling mass, the sudden undead tide seemed strangely idle as a group of hooded figures at their core stood brooding amid standing stones. As they gestured with their staves, Elizabeth felt an almost tangible energy in the air.

Without warning she held her breath; golden eyes beginning to softly glow as she reacted to the dark magick in the air. Strange scenes flashed before her eyes: phantom images of suffering and death; of horrid acts perpetrated by vile creatures. Most powerful of all was the hand, skeletal yet glowing, as it reached out to grasp Elizabeth’s throat.

Yelping in fear, she stumbled backwards; slipping hard into a downhill roll. A groan of pain was her only protest as she reached the bottom, glancing down to ensure the flowers were mostly intact.

It was then that she noticed the five shambling figures cresting the hill. Their blue-eyed gazes felt ice-cold upon her as they quickly advanced with rusted swords and chipped axes in hand. Though still reeling from the fall, her proximity to the undead nonetheless mutated the ever-present tune of softly ethereal music into a discordant cacophony. Shrieking in pain, Elizabeth’s arm cast out in reflex as golden lighting arched from her fingers and into the shambling undead. Between the eyes each bolt did strike before they fell smoldering upon the ground.

Cold and shaking, Elizabeth felt her energy all but drain away. Without a second thought she ran back to the small cottage that she and Kristina had found; stumbling wildly through the door.

Kristina cast her a concerned, almost nervous look, causing Elizabeth to wear a tired smile. "I’m back, Mistress." Unwilted, though in some cases slightly crushed, the young girl held out a batch of lovely snow-touched flowers. "For you, Mistress, as thanks for… for caring for me and, congratulations for winning the election."

The girl sat before the table and let out the deep sigh of someone offloading a heavy burden. "There are many undead out there. I think it would be good to leave soon... As soon as you are ready, of course." Clearly on edge, her eyes bore a look of worry. Meanwhile the tiny, barely noticeable streaks upon her cheeks betrayed the tell-tale marks of hastily-wiped tears.