Xilium Rupertus
03-05-14, 10:11 PM
Small solo thread leading up to meeting the Ixian Knights. This is my first thread in over 7 years so there will be lots of mistakes, bear with me as I get back into the groove of things.
A single wind blew through the mountains of Salvar, carrying with it a uneasiness that seem to bite even more then the frozen wind. Even in the hidden alcove near the city of Pestovo, where the winter was known to be more mild then the rest of the continent, it could be felt with such ferocity that it shook the small cabin inhabiting it. Within Xilium took a moment to let the feeling settle over him, his senses going over every feeling of darkness with impunity, searching for what could cause such a blatant disturbance . The wind was not the only sign that had come into place in recent weeks. Crops were refusing to give birth in once fertile land, and the creatures of the forest seem to be getting more and more jumpy of late. It was almost as if the land was giving out a warning of something soon to come. At least that was what elven lore would say about such foreboding signs.
Foolishness in every sense of the word. This land is as dead as the kingdoms beneath it...
Yet even as he thought this he slowly began to pack his meager belongings for the inevitable journey that would more than likely take him to more places then he could count. Wandering was something that he had become accustomed to in the many years of traveling Althanas, and not matter his inhibitions towards his heritage he knew something was coming soon, and that something was war. War was not something that came in a moment in a blast, it was a slow and sure creeping that took over men's hearts and lands like a change of seasons. The autumn of peace was soon to end, carried on by the winter of war. The only question was if that winter would be a short freeze or a long storm, and what part he would play in leading toward that conclusion. It wasn't an arrogance that led him to believe he would take place in what was to come, he had long moved past the point of thinking much of such things. It was just a feeling that could only be explained as premonition, and he had learned to trust such feelings with his very soul.
Grabbing the locket at his neck he took a moment to dwell on this that had already come to past, of the people he had loved and the ones he had lost. Ziegfried has disappeared from Althanas without any notice with only whispers of his name on either side of the nether. Lorenor was known for his years of reclusive hiding, but it had been years since he had been able to get a hold of him through any of the usual means. Witchblade was someone who moved on her own path, making it almost impossible to find her unless she wanted to be found. The lack of communication with all three was something he cared not to think about in most situations, but it seemed fitting at the beginning of this journey to take a moment to remember those who he cared for.
Reminiscent memories were fleeting however, and time was of the essence. Salvar was a deep country and a long road was ahead to the city of Pestovo. It had been quite a while since he had made the journey, but tonight he could so something he hadn't done in a long time, walk within the shadows. Magic use was strictly prohibited by non-church officials in the land of Salvar, with magic being called healing and miracles in these situations. Persecution and death came to any and all that broke the law in this form. Fear was a power motivation in the eyes of the masses, and though he had no fear of the church, now was not the time to instigate a situation. Salvar would always be his country no matter what came to pass, and at some point he could take matters in this place into his own hands.
Grabbing his scythe Xilium doused the lantern, leaving the cabin in pure darkness. A feeling of nostalgia came instantly, something that happened every time he entered the shadows. Coming home was the only way he could explain it, as the darkness was more home to him then even the land of his elven ancestors. With a few shorts words of magic he felt his physical self melt away into the darkness, becoming one with the shadows. The darkened show began to move around him as he moved at inhuman speeds towards his destination, to learn what was to come.
A single wind blew through the mountains of Salvar, carrying with it a uneasiness that seem to bite even more then the frozen wind. Even in the hidden alcove near the city of Pestovo, where the winter was known to be more mild then the rest of the continent, it could be felt with such ferocity that it shook the small cabin inhabiting it. Within Xilium took a moment to let the feeling settle over him, his senses going over every feeling of darkness with impunity, searching for what could cause such a blatant disturbance . The wind was not the only sign that had come into place in recent weeks. Crops were refusing to give birth in once fertile land, and the creatures of the forest seem to be getting more and more jumpy of late. It was almost as if the land was giving out a warning of something soon to come. At least that was what elven lore would say about such foreboding signs.
Foolishness in every sense of the word. This land is as dead as the kingdoms beneath it...
Yet even as he thought this he slowly began to pack his meager belongings for the inevitable journey that would more than likely take him to more places then he could count. Wandering was something that he had become accustomed to in the many years of traveling Althanas, and not matter his inhibitions towards his heritage he knew something was coming soon, and that something was war. War was not something that came in a moment in a blast, it was a slow and sure creeping that took over men's hearts and lands like a change of seasons. The autumn of peace was soon to end, carried on by the winter of war. The only question was if that winter would be a short freeze or a long storm, and what part he would play in leading toward that conclusion. It wasn't an arrogance that led him to believe he would take place in what was to come, he had long moved past the point of thinking much of such things. It was just a feeling that could only be explained as premonition, and he had learned to trust such feelings with his very soul.
Grabbing the locket at his neck he took a moment to dwell on this that had already come to past, of the people he had loved and the ones he had lost. Ziegfried has disappeared from Althanas without any notice with only whispers of his name on either side of the nether. Lorenor was known for his years of reclusive hiding, but it had been years since he had been able to get a hold of him through any of the usual means. Witchblade was someone who moved on her own path, making it almost impossible to find her unless she wanted to be found. The lack of communication with all three was something he cared not to think about in most situations, but it seemed fitting at the beginning of this journey to take a moment to remember those who he cared for.
Reminiscent memories were fleeting however, and time was of the essence. Salvar was a deep country and a long road was ahead to the city of Pestovo. It had been quite a while since he had made the journey, but tonight he could so something he hadn't done in a long time, walk within the shadows. Magic use was strictly prohibited by non-church officials in the land of Salvar, with magic being called healing and miracles in these situations. Persecution and death came to any and all that broke the law in this form. Fear was a power motivation in the eyes of the masses, and though he had no fear of the church, now was not the time to instigate a situation. Salvar would always be his country no matter what came to pass, and at some point he could take matters in this place into his own hands.
Grabbing his scythe Xilium doused the lantern, leaving the cabin in pure darkness. A feeling of nostalgia came instantly, something that happened every time he entered the shadows. Coming home was the only way he could explain it, as the darkness was more home to him then even the land of his elven ancestors. With a few shorts words of magic he felt his physical self melt away into the darkness, becoming one with the shadows. The darkened show began to move around him as he moved at inhuman speeds towards his destination, to learn what was to come.