Characters:
Scarsmate:
Rivera (elf)
Lyrea (dragon)
Nellas (elf)
Eldárwen (human)
Dark Huntress:
Rhinnëa (elf)[Rih-NAY-uh]
Gweir (dragon)[Gwayr]
Eyulf (werewolf)[Ay-ULF]
Zaq (human) [Zak]
The Riders' Rebellion
OOC: Sorry about the spoiler-it's just soooo darn long >.<
Spoiler: show
...
Two black shapes, one large, muscular, and griffin-like, the other hooded. Falling. Jarring landing. Staggering blows parried and made. Sharp pain from a leg. Head snapping to the side. Falling again. Unbearable pain lancing up an arm. Blade meeting flesh with a snick. Falling towards the dusty ground. Blood. Darkness.
...
Rhinnëa bolted up, instantly regretting her movement, however, as razor-sharp pain shot through her right arm. She gave her surroundings a confused look, then glanced down at her arm. She was in the desert, in a small, dry cave, a warm fire flickering a few feet off. Her arm was held in place by four thin sticks bound up by strips of fabric. Another quick glimpse afforded her the information that her silver iridescent sword, Ignasia, was resting a little ways off, and there was a tall, dark figure crouched by the fire.
She looked at Ignasia then towards the figure, who was starting to stand. As he rose she flung herself up and towards her weapon, drawing it faster than the bare eye could follow.
"Stop," she growled at him, pointing the sharp tip of the silvery blade at the figure, whom she now saw was only a boy, maybe a man of a year or two to the humans, with black hair that hung nearly to his shoulders. She shook herself as her limbs trembled and pain racked her slender body.
Instead of wearing an angry or even frightened look, the boy looked more concerned. As her legs seemed to give out underneath her he rushed forward and grabbed her arm gently but firmly. He gave her a determined look as she glared at him and struggled to recover her footing.
"Let me go!" she exclaimed loudly when he pulled her arm around his thick neck and put his hand on her waist as he pulled her back to where she'd awoken moments ago,"Stop it." She swatted his hands as he tried to force her to sit down.
"What are you doing?!"
"Trying to avoid death." He shrugged,"You're dragon told me to help you-I fear him more than you!" Rhinnëa's breath caught a little. "Where is Gwe-where is he?" she asked,"is he okay."
The boy gave her a look as if she were crazy. "Yes, but you aren't," he said simply.
She looked down at her splinted arm and, as she had just discovered, bandaged leg. She ran her bruised and bloodied fingertips over the rough fabric around her leg,"Hamstring?"
He nodded. She swore under her breath: that would give her trouble. "A pox on all Ra'zac," she muttered, running her thin, elegant hands over her rather long, angular face. She cracked a slanted emerald eye to look at him. "Thank-you."
He put his hands up. "Hey, I just didn't want to be eaten." She laughed softly. "Would he," he stopped,"would he have eaten me?" Rhinnëa shrugged.
"You never know with Gweir," she said chewing on the inside of her cheek. The topic exhausted, they fell silent for a few moments.
"So...you're a Rider?"
"Yes."
"What were you doing way out here?"
"Hunting."
He shook his head at her. "You don't seem to eager to talk." She gave him a condescending look.
"Too many words are idle, few are useful."
"Don't go all elvish on me, please."
Are you awake yet, Fair One?" a deep voice boomed through Rhinnëa's mind before she could answer the boy. Yes, she answered. Who is he? The boy.
One I find has as many secrets as we. With that enigmatic statement, Gweir severed the connection. Rhinnëa shook herself.
"Was that the dragon?" the boy asked, watching her. She nodded then winced and squeezed her wide eyes shut as her body ached uncontrollably. When she opened her green orbs, the boy was wearing a concerned, apologetic face,"I'm sorry I can't do more."
Rhinnëa shrugged slightly. "The gift of gods is not for men," she gave him a sly smile before standing haltingly. With a soft, clear voice that sounded like the pure note of a perfect bell she sang quietly a spell of healing and shivered as her flesh crawled and itched where it had been injured.
She unfastened the bandages around her leg and ran her hand over the tendon and perfect pale skin she'd just repaired. She marked that her lips no longer seemed puffy and swollen and her entire body didn't seem sore. She untied the splint around her arm then looked up at the boy who was staring at her.
"Must you stare?" she asked, his brown-eyed gaze starting to disconcert her. "It's just a little magic." He shook himself. "I'm sorry-you have a very beautiful voice."
Rhinnëa nodded slowly, watching him the whole while. She rose and strapped her sword to her slender waist. "Thank-you-," she stopped, realizing she didn't even know who he was,"what is your name?"
"Eyulf Sofeofnone."
"Rhinnëa, the Rider of the River," Rhinnëa inclined her high-cheekboned head. "Thank-you, Eyulf."
Many thanks from me as well, two-legs-round-ears, Eyulf-Rhinnëa's-friend.
A wry smile touched Rhinnëa's full lips as Gweir sent his thoughts reverberating through the humanoid's minds. "Farewell," she said and strode towards the entrance of the cave.
Two black shapes, one large, muscular, and griffin-like, the other hooded. Falling. Jarring landing. Staggering blows parried and made. Sharp pain from a leg. Head snapping to the side. Falling again. Unbearable pain lancing up an arm. Blade meeting flesh with a snick. Falling towards the dusty ground. Blood. Darkness.
...
Rhinnëa bolted up, instantly regretting her movement, however, as razor-sharp pain shot through her right arm. She gave her surroundings a confused look, then glanced down at her arm. She was in the desert, in a small, dry cave, a warm fire flickering a few feet off. Her arm was held in place by four thin sticks bound up by strips of fabric. Another quick glimpse afforded her the information that her silver iridescent sword, Ignasia, was resting a little ways off, and there was a tall, dark figure crouched by the fire.
She looked at Ignasia then towards the figure, who was starting to stand. As he rose she flung herself up and towards her weapon, drawing it faster than the bare eye could follow.
"Stop," she growled at him, pointing the sharp tip of the silvery blade at the figure, whom she now saw was only a boy, maybe a man of a year or two to the humans, with black hair that hung nearly to his shoulders. She shook herself as her limbs trembled and pain racked her slender body.
Instead of wearing an angry or even frightened look, the boy looked more concerned. As her legs seemed to give out underneath her he rushed forward and grabbed her arm gently but firmly. He gave her a determined look as she glared at him and struggled to recover her footing.
"Let me go!" she exclaimed loudly when he pulled her arm around his thick neck and put his hand on her waist as he pulled her back to where she'd awoken moments ago,"Stop it." She swatted his hands as he tried to force her to sit down.
"What are you doing?!"
"Trying to avoid death." He shrugged,"You're dragon told me to help you-I fear him more than you!" Rhinnëa's breath caught a little. "Where is Gwe-where is he?" she asked,"is he okay."
The boy gave her a look as if she were crazy. "Yes, but you aren't," he said simply.
She looked down at her splinted arm and, as she had just discovered, bandaged leg. She ran her bruised and bloodied fingertips over the rough fabric around her leg,"Hamstring?"
He nodded. She swore under her breath: that would give her trouble. "A pox on all Ra'zac," she muttered, running her thin, elegant hands over her rather long, angular face. She cracked a slanted emerald eye to look at him. "Thank-you."
He put his hands up. "Hey, I just didn't want to be eaten." She laughed softly. "Would he," he stopped,"would he have eaten me?" Rhinnëa shrugged.
"You never know with Gweir," she said chewing on the inside of her cheek. The topic exhausted, they fell silent for a few moments.
"So...you're a Rider?"
"Yes."
"What were you doing way out here?"
"Hunting."
He shook his head at her. "You don't seem to eager to talk." She gave him a condescending look.
"Too many words are idle, few are useful."
"Don't go all elvish on me, please."
Are you awake yet, Fair One?" a deep voice boomed through Rhinnëa's mind before she could answer the boy. Yes, she answered. Who is he? The boy.
One I find has as many secrets as we. With that enigmatic statement, Gweir severed the connection. Rhinnëa shook herself.
"Was that the dragon?" the boy asked, watching her. She nodded then winced and squeezed her wide eyes shut as her body ached uncontrollably. When she opened her green orbs, the boy was wearing a concerned, apologetic face,"I'm sorry I can't do more."
Rhinnëa shrugged slightly. "The gift of gods is not for men," she gave him a sly smile before standing haltingly. With a soft, clear voice that sounded like the pure note of a perfect bell she sang quietly a spell of healing and shivered as her flesh crawled and itched where it had been injured.
She unfastened the bandages around her leg and ran her hand over the tendon and perfect pale skin she'd just repaired. She marked that her lips no longer seemed puffy and swollen and her entire body didn't seem sore. She untied the splint around her arm then looked up at the boy who was staring at her.
"Must you stare?" she asked, his brown-eyed gaze starting to disconcert her. "It's just a little magic." He shook himself. "I'm sorry-you have a very beautiful voice."
Rhinnëa nodded slowly, watching him the whole while. She rose and strapped her sword to her slender waist. "Thank-you-," she stopped, realizing she didn't even know who he was,"what is your name?"
"Eyulf Sofeofnone."
"Rhinnëa, the Rider of the River," Rhinnëa inclined her high-cheekboned head. "Thank-you, Eyulf."
Many thanks from me as well, two-legs-round-ears, Eyulf-Rhinnëa's-friend.
A wry smile touched Rhinnëa's full lips as Gweir sent his thoughts reverberating through the humanoid's minds. "Farewell," she said and strode towards the entrance of the cave.