[Closed] Fate Intervenes...

(Closed to Ashla)

Scara Brae area...

Somewhere near the main city of Scara Brae, Lorenor sat by a stream.

He always did like the flowing, moving water...it calmed his troubled mind.

Across the ages, there had always been a man named Lorenor. Be it whatever type of Undead he was at the time, he always bore the same name. Lorenor. Hero. Saint. Prophet. Whatever you wanted to call him, he had been there at the end of The Demon War. At every major epoch of Althanas history, and more recently...he'd been present at the fall of Eiskalt. Though his participation had been minimal at best, he'd struggled with the mass genocide that had occurred. He didn't have all of the details yet, but he knew that the Assassin; Lichensith Ulroke was partially responsible. Madison Freebird had also been present and several other known Villains, murderers, evil doers in general.

Though some agents of The Darkness attempted to hide behind false pretenses and false motivations, they were still agents of Darkness. Lorenor had chosen his side. He represented The Holy Light, no matter what that would bring to him. He was a devout Paladin of a mysterious order of Paladins. Lorenor sat in front of the streaming river, his upper body exposed. He was in very good shape, muscular and well built. His weapon lay on the ground next to him, ready to be summoned at a moment's notice. The old Paladin was bare foot, wearing only his pants. His belongings were next to him folded up neatly. Or in his bag. His chest rose up and down casually with every breath he took.

He reminded himself of the time he met Fenn in such a way. Meditating outside of the hallowed grounds of an old ruins. The ruins was the former headquarters of The Ixian Knights. For a small time, Lorenor considered bringing the old Guild back to full prosperity. The Holy Light advised against him since a new piece of information landed on his lap recently. The Tablet of The Ixian Knights was no more. So Lorenor was no longer bound to the old Guild, nor Sei Orlouge. He was troubled as he meditated, communing with The Holy Light.

He meditated like that often. Trying to allow his troubles, the troubles of the world to simply flow. During one such meditation session...he'd met Fenn. The young Fae Adventurer. He'd admittedly liked The Fae boy.

The Holy Light showed him things...visions, images. And at that moment he had an image of someone who needed help. Someone familiar, but The Holy Light was only revealing a shadowy image to him at that point. That was what he needed to do next. In the mean time, he remained in deep meditation. His eyes opened at that point...glowing with a blue energy. Whatever fate would bring him at that point...he would be an Agent of change as he always was.

His body glowed with the brilliant after effect of The Holy Light. It was his aura and it flared up around him. He sensed a presence approaching him...

^(Enter Here)

"Gah!"

A cloaked girl gasped for air. Her dark cape was wrapped around her like a noose. Pulling tighter, causing her cheeks to turn red, the dark blond girl reached and yanked the clip off. As empty cloth flew up in the wind, the teenage girl fell to the ground. Her grey shirt and brown pants were coated in cool dirt. As she choked for breath, a muscular, massive man held the black cloth. A grunt escaped him as he simply let go and let it fly in the wind. He gazed down at the humble stav several feet ahead of her. He kept a confident, level head. As she finally started to recover, he took several small paces and put a bare foot atop the quarterstaff.

As his orange shirt rippled in the wind, his shorts also coated in dirt, he smirked as he watched her get up. Blood lust...

He licked his lips, longing for blood. Yet, his cold personality kept him from lunging. This kill would be well thought out and articulated. He was a lone wolf in need of advantages. With as weak and rugged this mystic before him already was, this could not last long.

The oak trees surrounding them whispered in the wind. As lone green leaves fluttered in the wind, the fighters kicked up dust from the bare dirt ground. The trees shaded them from the sun... and masked a third person in the forest. As the sound of water from a nearby lake added noise to the wind, the child regained some composer.

She stood up, not meeting his eyes as she glared upon her lost weapon. She whispered, "Icebreaker..."

That verbal cue caused him to sniff the air - more meat! He turned around in a flash, reaching out and grasping ahold of the sudden newcomer's face. A muffled choke came out as he chucked her into the other girl.

A comedic "oof!" sounded upon their impact. Another smirk crossed the grey haired man's eyes, "More prey..."

He took several steps back, leaving the staff between them. His urges to feed were worsening, yet he maintained his calm, but now more excited, demeanour.

While the inexperienced teen moaned, the brunette stood up again, silent and strong. "You are blood thirsty. You need to feed, fast."

"Yes." He calmly sniffed the air again, yellow pupils bulging in excitement, "Magic affinity?"

"It's hereditary." The pale young woman looked him in the eyes with a smirk. One eye was a dark oak burgundy, the other an astonishing crystal blue. She was confident.

"No hereditary abilities can save you from the predator."

He finally lost it.

The man crouched down. A single muscle twitch started the process. The young woman watched as his hair covered his entire body. His face became twisted, his entire body convulging in spasms of increased power.

He was indeed the werewolf they were looking for.

The young woman reached down to her belt and pulled out a damascus hand-in-a-half sword. The blade was starting to become old, but it was her favored weapon of choice for several years. She relaxed it in the fool's gaurd as the mysterious werewolf hunched down to all fours. As its torn shirt fell off, it roared in anguished starvation. It was ready to attack. It lunged forward, losing the former calculation. It was dying of hunger, despite it's physical peek. Now, Icebreaker would put the pathetic thing out of its misery.

With a quick move of the wrist and a lung, she stabbed its leg. It cried out in pain, but the coldblooded woman outwardly appeared unsympathetic. Her blue eye froze over with ice. She simply and elegantly sliced its stomach. As it fell to its knees, she turned to see the teen walk forth, saving reclaimed her bludgeoning weapon, "Deirdre."

She muttered not a sound. Violence crossed her eyes as she lifted her staff, slamming it across the werewolf's skull. She then slammed its chest, causing it to fall back.

"No need to cause it pain," Icebreaker icely spoke in a pained voice, "It has suffered enough.

Deirdre stood down, letting the teacher take over. She stepped atop the whimpering creature's chest. She then quietly decapitated its head in a mercy kill. The bounty wanted this mass murderer to be prosecuted by the local law if possible, but he was in such poor condition... The blue eye uncoated after the kill, her eyes shinning in an odd kind of remorse.

Already, tge teen ran ahead though, looking through a brush of trees, she spotted a small lake. Too ecstatic at the site, she did not see the man relaxing there.

As for her and her teacher, they both needed fresh water. As well as an ice pack, but the mage already had that covered...

"Icebreaker, a lake."

As Lorenor sat there, time passed.

He was considering many matters as he meditated...the mysterious images of people who needed him troubled him the most. At that point, he decided to cease his communion with The Holy Light and stood up to stretch. Several days had passed since he'd first started meditating. No food, no water, no sustenance of any sort. Just deep meditation and concentration. As he stood up he stretched, he always felt better after meditating in such a way. The Holy Light empowered him, and it was a comfort to know that it was there. He decided that he would turn around at that point and he saw two strangers approaching him. They both wore clothing that seemed familiar to him somehow. Further point, one of them was considerably shorter than the other.

As Lorenor examined the two newcomers, he began to think of a very old memory...an old shadow that haunted his heart.

It was oft said that the oldest scars were the unresolved ones...the ones that lingered on the soul. Tasks and matters that remained unfinished. The matter that suddenly manifested in his mind was one of those many old scars and pains. "...Eiskalt..." Lorenor suddenly said out loud for no reason in particular. Lorenor had been present for that Nation's fall. A mass-genocide had taken place there and he'd been too weak and powerful to stop it.

He'd failed as a Paladin.

As a result, that old scar haunted him to that very day. It was a burden that needed resolution before Lorenor could move on with his un-life. Lorenor was shirtless at that point still, in his camp, as he stood up. His muscles well formed and toned. The most interesting feature of the old Paladin was the man's face. He had glowing blue eyes that were glowing energy. A mark of the reformation period he'd undergone before The Ixian Knights disbanded. Lorenor thought of Eiskalt for that point. The doomed Nation's downfall oft haunted his sleep and gave him nightmares.

He'd always regretted not being able to stop the monsters that destroyed that Nation.

"If only...I would have had more power..." Lorenor said to himself. Lorenor had a small camp set up there near the lake. It was quite visible since there was camp fire, well structured, in the center of the camp. There was a tent present, and other basic survival tools. Lorenor disliked big cities and always did prefer the wilderness and wild lands. He looked down at the still burning fire. It's glow reflecting shining light on his undead flesh. Lorenor had pale skin. His pants were held up by a simple belt, and he had his gear sitting in the tent. Lorenor kept his shield and sword nearby at all times. His claymore was a gigantic sword normally held in two hands, but he preferred to wield it in one hand and use his shield in the other.

The Paladin was barefoot, he liked the feeling of the ground against his feet.

The sound of the nearby water from the lake also added to his calm mood.

Lorenor looked at the approaching form of the two figures...his mind not on defensive mode just yet. He decided he would wait to see who the strangers that approached actually were. He had a strange feeling in his heart...as if someone had stepped on his grave...

The moment she saw a man close to the waters, Ashla was on alert.

The lake was calm with stillness and peace. The surrounding pond born lillies and tall grasses swayed in the tender wind. The scent of Scara Brae native flowers floated in the air. As dragonflies of rainbow colors danced amongst the fresh water surface, the fresh tension of the newcomers could cause more magic sensitive creatures to fall back.

Ashla's hand fell onto her damascus sword's hilt. Gripping the pommel and handle, the woman fell into a defensive posture. It was like an on edge cat's fur standing up, the bunched up cat trying to appear larger than it already was - out of fear.

Deirdre's reaction was not nearly as violent. She was an almost emotion dead soul, unreactive to most active threats. While her eyes seemed dull and uninterested, the way she gripped her staff still pointed to an understanding of possible threat. Her dark blond hair fell over her eyes as she gave a warning scowl. All her mentor had to do was give the word, then she would attack.

Ashla, however, was in no mood for a fight. She just came out of one, after all. She was more willing to check for danger then be on her way. If this man proved to be at least decent, she could even bear to get a much needed drink - from the other side of the lake.

This man was clothed only in the basic pants. He was bald, short, but muscular and well toned. Anyone could guess that if he was out in the wild, he could fight. The nearby claymore and shield proved it. The tent nearby stated that maybe he was alone or in a very small party, like Ashla and Deirdre. None the less, Ashla still was wary, tired, and unwilling to start any unnecessary conflicts. This man was unusually pale, even more than the average Eiskaltian, yet the concept of him merely being of another species all together crossed her mind too. Regardless, he put her on the verge of panic. The way she clasped her sword proved just how unhinged this woman was.

The wins briefly picked up, representing the intensity of the situation. Ashla's jet black hair, with brown highlights, flowed in the winds. Her body was but a frame of skin and bones. She was agile and toned enough for her endurance to be notable, yet her muscle mass was outright pathetic. Her clothes and armor clung to her in a protective fashion. There had been points in her life when clothes, weapons and armor, and her breaths of precious oxygen were all she had. Thankfully, it was not now. For she was nowhere near her old prime. Her eyes, one robin blue and the other burgundy, burned with the intensity of fire. Ironic, as she was genetically skilled with ice. Her mismatched orbs were also chaotic in paranoia and suspicion. She was untrusting towards the world.

Deirdre was younger than her, but healthier. The way she firmly held her staff showed her more levelheaded, clarified way of thinking. It was logical to be wary of someone who carried a claymore. It took training or lucky experience to weild a sword well. She followed behind her teacher, but the silent midteen was potentially better at judging this situation than she. Still, as her humble dark clothes were ruffled in the wind, she occasionally glanced at Icebreaker for her next move.

The wind died down. It was time for speech.

Ashla's voice came out demanding but quiet. No nonsense, but with an unintentional hint of fear. "Who... are you?"

Lorenor saw the two figures approach.

One of them...was strangely familiar. Have we not met someplace before...you...and...I? Lorenor thought to himself. The younger blond figure was a complete stranger to him. He had no knowledge of her, but the staff she chose to wield. Probably one of those spell-caster types. Lorenor thought to himself. Sometime ago, he'd met the small fae being, Fenn, in a similar fashion. Camping out by the old ruins he'd oft frequented. That encounter was one he'd rather enjoyed. The familiar older woman...asked a question. Lorenor let the question hang in the air for a moment or two before responding truthfully.

"I'm...Lorenor." He said with a calm voice. There was no hostility in his voice whatsoever. Lorenor walked towards the campfire and sat down by it at that point, feeling the warmth flowing from it. "You two are welcome to join me if it pleases you." There was a sadness in Lorenor's eyes. Of past hurts, past events that left a mark on his soul. "Never was one for crowded cities...too much noise." He explained the basic point of why he was out there by himself.

He preferred it that way.

Lorenor listened to the sound of the fire for a moment. He looked at the two ladies before him and nodded softly. He knew, he was an unusually kind-hearted person for that day and age of Althanas's history. As he sat there he considered his next move...he could not stay out there forever. The world needed a Hero. Men and Women who were not afraid to act against the coming Darkness. Lorenor considered the situation at hand and waited for the two women's response...

Ashla was wary, although he seemed welcoming. No one could be trusted.

Nonetheless, the crackling fire seemed welcoming. The flames sparked the wood, hissing as it released smoke into the air. The ice mage slowly let go of her sword. Still on edge, still visibly anxious, she gently pulled her student.

They made way to the other side of the pond, away from the stranger. Deirdre pulled out an animal hide canister and instantly started with the water. It would need to be purified. Thankfully the alchemist equipment of her allies, the Sirvant Family and Felicity Rhyolite, had been granted as a borrowed traveling accessory.

As Deirdre fumed amongst herself, purifying the lake water and filling their water jugs, Ashla attempted to smile. She was too an introvert, "I dislike crowds myself. My friend and I will only be a moment."

Ashla pulled a dirtied white hood (it appeared more brown and grey now) over her head. She still kept her hand on her belt, ready to yank her sword out on a moment's notice.

No one was to be trusted.

The sound of Deirdre repeatedly pouring water through a filter was as soothing as the campfire in the distance. Still, Ashla was on gaurd. Her eyes were clouded in thoughts.

Okay, after we refill our water supply, we get the werewolf and get back to the nearby village. Then we ca-

-Rustling.

Alarm shot through the young woman's body. Adrenaline burst as she yanked out her sword. She pointed it at nearby water weeds... it was but a duck from the pond, which now was flying away.

Heavy breaths rose and fell from her chest. Deirdre looked up to her. While her face was emotionless, the attentive posture hinted at concern.

"Calm down"

The voice was fragile as bare feet stepping through shattered glass. She barely spoke, obviously, as her vocal chords were cracked. However, her tone was sturdy and surprisingly reassuring.

Ashla looked back at the young girl. She put her sword away again, sighing. "I'm sorry."

Her eyes briefly darted to the stranger by the fire, then back to Deirdre. She slumped in posture. Deirdre poured clean water into the canister. She spoke again, "Ashla, it is okay."

A small grin spread across Ashla's face, amused and touched, "Aw, you never use my first name."

Even more socially inept than her teacher, Deirdre completely took that comment the wrong way. Her posture straightened. "Apologies, Icebreaker."

Ashla facepalmed. - Then, what was that? - Alarm---Deirdre's hand made it to the hilt before Ashla could unsheath her blade. "It's a squirrel."

Ashla's pulse was still on the rise again. Always vigilant. Always on gaurd...

Lorenor pondered why the strangers were so on edge.

He looked at them as they walked away and he sighed. Not the friendly sorts I presume... Lorenor thought to himself. He looked at his weapons for a moment and then decided to take a stretch. He'd been there for several weeks at that point, just communing with The Holy Light. Trying to find some sort of a purpose to his existence again. As he sat there, he considered the situation at hand. That one girl seemed VERY familiar but he couldn't quite place it...a memory lost. He decided not to trouble himself too much further about the matter.

At that point, he began to gather his Paladin's gear and prepared to equip himself.

He placed all of his armour on, and soon was decked out in the gear he'd recently acquired for himself.

The last parts of the armour he'd placed on were his gauntlets. They had straps and were a little lengthy of a process to place on. He was a daft sort of Paladin folk, always on the go. The limited interaction with the two girls that were still present reminded Lorenor that he could not stay out there forever. He could not ignore the troubles of the world.

The last two items he needed to place on were his sheathed claymore, and his shield. Normally, such swords were meant for two-handed use. But Lorenor had perfected a combat style that allowed him to fight with a two handed weapon and shield equipped. Either way, he began to slowly pack up his belongings. He needed to do...something. He wasn't certain what that something was. But the nearby ruins called to him for a reason. He looked up at the old castle that lurked nearby, long since pilfered and abandoned.

Once Lorenor was done putting out the campfire, he'd left the set up there present for other wilderness travelers, he took a long look at the two women that he'd met earlier.

Staring in their general direction.

Once he was satisfied that they were on their way...he began to slowly walk towards the ruined castle.

It was getting later in the day, and soon, night would be upon them.

With a swish of his cloak, he started the long hike towards the ruins.

Paladin Lorenor receives 380 EXP and 45 GP!

Ashla receives 375 EXP and 35 GP!

All rewards added!