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Post by Rena Brighteyes on Jan 14, 2024 3:47:55 GMT -5
Rena hums softly to herself, a skip in her step as she walks. One black-scaled hand rests on her satchel, keeping the bag and the precious, unborn lives within steady and still even as she moves. She smiles softly, letting out a pleased trill. It's time. The Night of the Red Rogues has come, and it's finally time for her to meet up with her adopted daughter once more to distribute the, ah, less perishable items among their stolen goods. The food and such had been taken to the local villages mere days after the two of them had stolen the stuff.
As for the tools, weapons, armor and toys...now it's time for those to be spread amongst the people, with special favor given to the impoverished and those with children...so the crow has a soft spot for the little ones. sue her.
In any case, she's currently heading to the warehouse that she and Elvira had moved the goods to after the first one had been attacked. Her fledgling should already be there, provided the elf hasn't gotten distracted with her goblin lover...eh, 's not like Rena and her Bell hadn't had similar experiences. She could afford to patient...she does shiver a little, a soft chirp escaping her throat as she swears she feels a pair of familiar, gentle arms wrapped around her for a moment.
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Post by Elvira, Wandering Cleric on Jan 21, 2024 6:45:50 GMT -5
Luckily for Rena, her elven fledgling was present outside the warehouse, where she was practicing basic movements with a large scimitar. At the time that Rena had approached, she was only using it with one hand and was spinning the blade with as much grace as a novice could possibly have. The steel blade was finely crafted, glinting beautifully as it passes through the rays of the sun. The black handle had a simple guard, not quite sufficient enough to block the entire hand in a duel, but it was still elegant. Elvira clearly wasn't used to the blade yet, as she carefully spun it around in an attempt to figure out the weight transfer between slashes.
As she spotted the crow, she quickly placed the blade in the scabbard and ran up to the crow with a loving smile. she knelt down and wrapped her arms around her adoptive mother in a loving squeeze. "Hello again, emmë! You've been on my mind, I couldn't help but think about you and the eggs during my travels." She carefully breaks the hug and takes the scimitar and scabbard belt off of her waist, offering it to the crow. "I'm sure you saw I picked up a blade from a smith. He offered me more ornate blades, but I wished only to have one which can defend myself against any means of threats that make it past my bow and spells. Besides, I believe there is a beauty in simplicity, wouldn't you say? If you're willing, I'd love to learn from you at some point!"
She was just about to turn to the matters at hand when she suddenly jumped back in surprise. "O-Oh! Stars above, emmë, your lover is quite active! My word, have you noticed any changes? Any phantom touches, perhaps even a stray thought that doesn't seem likely to have been your own? This is a big deal! Come inside, let's talk there!"
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Post by Rena Brighteyes on Jan 21, 2024 13:17:11 GMT -5
Rena blinks, then grins, hugging her daughter tightly as she lets out a joyous, affectionate chirp, “...I’m glad you’ve been looking to pick up more tools, ka’lor’tyrlr’no. And the blade is beautiful. It…” her smile grows a little wan as she considers, “...it reminds me of the blades Bell made for me as a wedding present. Strong, sharp, and elegant…it’s perfect for you…” she gently, almost reverently takes the scimitar in her hands, carefully weighing the blade and looking it over with shimmering silver eyes as she smiles, “...yes…this one is perfect. It will defend you and yours very nicely, I think…and I’d love to teach you, little one. Having you learn to wield smaller blades like mine would be wonderful,” her smile grows more earnest once more. Her fledgling wants to learn from her. It’s almost exactly as she’s dreamed since learning she was with clutch…no, it’s better.
It’s about then that Elvira’s words snap her out of her thoughts, just as she feels a phantom touch on her hand, “...I…yes, I have…arms around me, hands grasping mine…the occasional kiss when I wake up in the morning…” she blinks, letting out an excited trill as the implications sink in, and she eagerly follows her daughter into the warehouse.
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Post by Elvira, Wandering Cleric on Jan 22, 2024 12:55:50 GMT -5
Elvira practically squealed as she heard of the feelings that her mother had sensed. "Emmë! We might just see him before the eggs hatch! Heavens above, it's like you are having another baby," she joked as they entered the warehouse. The place was mostly bare, other than the few items they had not passed out quite yet. Amongst these were medical supplies, toys, armor, weapons, canned foods, and farming supplies. The elf looks over and picks up a halberd, holding it awkwardly. "Stars above, how do the guardsmen hold these bleedin' things, much less swing them around? I know it takes a long time to train a single guard but hell, this would be a workout either way. To think I nearly got one of these, huh? Could you imagine me with one, emmë?" She laughed.
With a heave, Elvira picked up a large bag of toys and canned foods, and another bag full of medical supplies. Her wiry frame looked rather ridiculous against the massive bags that she had slung over her back. "I think we can do this in one trip! Just gotta put some muscle into it! When you are ready, let's head out. I'll let you lead the way so they can be a bit confused when a crow drops them a shiny object. I bet they'll think you're trying to make a pact," she says, snickering. "In truth, you're faster to block an attack than I am and I can heal you should it land. If you'd like, I can also carry the clutch."
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Post by Rena Brighteyes on Jan 22, 2024 14:24:17 GMT -5
The crow chuckles softly, trilling in quiet amusement as she nods at her daughter’s words, “...mmm…I’m more partial to the glaive when it comes to polearms…though I may be biased, as that was s’ka’to’bi1 favored weapon”, already handing the satchel holding the elf’s unhatched adopted siblings over to Elvira before twisting her torso from one side to the other with several cracks and pops. she does some more stretches, warming up for the exertion to come before grabbing a pair of her own sacks. she grunts a little, staggering slightly under the weight before righting herself and glancing to her daughter, “...alrighty then. I’m ready when you are, d’rae ‘no2”
…cold. always so cold. the chill of her curse soaks ever deeper into her bones. she’ll bear the cold, the hunger, the pain happily if it means seeing what family she has happy. the weight of the sacks on her back may as well bae’n’hil for all she feels it when she sees Elvira smile, feels the ghost of her husband’s touch against her hand, knows the safety of her remaining clutch in their sister’s arms.
1 - my love's 2 - dear one
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Post by Elvira, Wandering Cleric on Jan 23, 2024 14:29:05 GMT -5
Luckily for the crow, Elvira had donned a warm smile as they set off. Pretty much every moment spent with Rena and the clutch was a win in Elvira's books, regardless of how much work was to be done. With her new scimitar swaying in the scabbard at her left hip, the eggs on the right, and the crow by her side, Elvira was as happy as she could be.
The two travel for some time, the sun noticeably moving from just above the horizon to just below, before they reach a village. The people were mostly dwarves of the lower class, happily completing their tasks to prepare for the night. A few odd looks were spared, but nobody approached. As they reached the center of the village, however, a young boy finally approached Elvira.
"Are you the Red Rogue? That's so cool!"
"I uh... I don't know about that, love but-" She paused as the kid ran off, smiling as if he just met a celebrity. With a confused look, she put the bags down next to a well. "I was kind of expecting there to be a bit of a crowd, you know? Something just feels... off?"
No sooner than when she had said this did an armored arm wrap its way around her throat and pulls her back. In a desperate attempt to protect the clutch, she tries to grab the bag and throw it to Rena, but is intercepted before it ever leaves her hand by a guard. The guards of the nobles they had robbed. This time, they were more elite guards.
The guard with the eggs runs off while the one holding Elvira brings her to the ground, attempting to shackle her. Two more block Rena's path to either of them, while a third approaches from the side of the crow and throws a punch towards her jaw.
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Post by Rena Brighteyes on Jan 23, 2024 18:54:00 GMT -5
Rena’s eyes flash bone white as she observes the guardsmen’s actions, already dropping her sacks and performing that strange twisting motion with her wrists that sends a pair of bayonets sliding to rest in each hand. Black frost creeps over her fingers1 and rapidly spreads and expands across the blades in her hands, the resulting coatings of dark ice are razor sharp and seem to suck the heat from the air around them even as she Blinks out of the way of the punch, reappearing a few feet away and spinning to hurl a pair of ice-coated blades into the back of the head of the guard who’d dared to run off with her children, already Summoning2 the satchel holding her clutch to her hand as she spins back around to face the guards, “...Elvira, dear? Time to fight dirty”
For their part, the guardsmen aren't particularly phased by the death of one of their own...the knowledge that they're faced up against at least one Red Rogue who won't hesitate to kill, on the other hand, does seem to make them falter, the man with his arm around Elvira's neck flinches just enough for his grip to loosen ever so slightly...
1 - Permafrost, Cold Touch 2 - Summon Possession
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Post by Elvira, Wandering Cleric on Jan 24, 2024 10:30:10 GMT -5
The second that the weight is moved from her throat, Elvira whispers softly. Immediately as she does, the guard on top of her screams loud and rips off his helmet. His hands shoot to his ears as he falls to his knees. With their swords drawn, the two guards try to come to his aid, only for him to throw a massive punch into the back of one's head. While those two fight, the other guard moves to deliver a kick to Elvira, who was still trying to stand.
Luckily, Elvira dodged out of the way and drew her scimitar. Using two hands, she brought the blade down on the guard's shoulder, causing a loud "CRACK!" as the steel blade met the softer iron armor. The guard let out a cry as the blade dug into his upper trapezius muscle, rendering the left shoulder completely useless. In a rage, he uses the pommel of his sword to strike Elvira in the side of the head. She took the brunt of the hit, but managed to somehow stay conscious and retreat next to the crow.
"Watch your right, emmë," she calls out as the other guard, the one who dared to throw a punch at Rena, moves in to strike with his halberd.
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Post by Rena Brighteyes on Jan 24, 2024 23:27:46 GMT -5
Rena spins, just barely too slow to dodge…but before the guard’s strike can connect, black and amber smoke erupts1 from her bayonets, rapidly slithering through the air to a point between the crow and the blade, a smoky hand forming even as it moves to knock the halberd off course. The rest of the figure forms after that; black feathers giving off wisps of smoke; bright amber eyes letting off streams of flowing light; a sharp, slightly dented beak set in a grim line; patches of brighter, shorter feathers that look almost like scars on the wraith’s arms, chest, and face. The apparition speaks, then, it’s - his voice hard, cold with a unique, familiar anger possessed only by those who are protecting their own, “...o, ye did not jus’ try an’ ‘urt me wife. Y’re lucky I cannae touch ye back, ye worthless excuse f’r a leprous, maggot-riddled bone-grinder”
Rena’s silver eyes are wide, and there’s an almost mad grin on her face even as she hurls the other two bayonets in hand to sink into the throats of two other guards, black frostbite spreading a few inches from the wounds as the people desperately grab at their throats and choke on frost-tainted blood, “eijh’anahr, ka’to’bi!2 ‘bout time you woke back up!”
1 - Spirit Guardian, Guardian Spirit Ability 2 - Ravenstongue - Welcome back/hello/good morning, me/my/mine love/dear/heart!
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Post by Elvira, Wandering Cleric on Jan 26, 2024 23:52:51 GMT -5
The elf's eyes lit up, but she did not miss a beat. The guard that struck her a mere moment before raised his sword high, only to receive her dark magic claws to his throat. She used the momentum of the swipe to roll towards the guard that had swung the halberd, sprung up, and brought her scimitar down on his helmet. The force of this ripped off the face guard to reveal a horrified man, now stunned from the powerful strike.
Elvira couldn't finish him off, though. She saw the person behind the blade. A man, a lover, perhaps even a father. Her blade was raised and had every potential to strike true, but she faltered and let it lower. "Take this as a gift from Lunala, get out of my sight," she growled. And get out of her sight he did.
She looked disturbed, as if she had been reminded of a ghost from her past. She didn't let this ruin the moment, however. Turning around to meet the actual ghost from the past, she smiled and bowed deep. "Greetings, Tolling Bell. It it lovely to meet you. You certainly are everything that Rena had told me, and perhaps even more."
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Post by Rena Brighteyes on Jan 27, 2024 0:24:42 GMT -5
Bell blinks his amber eyes, taking in the sight of the taller elf - Elvira, he remembers - before smiling softly and gently pulling his daughter into a hug, “...thank ye, lor’tyrlr ‘no…ye ‘ave no idea ‘ow much y’ve ‘elped my Rena…” he trills, tears of amber light rolling down his smoky cheeks before dissipating as they drip from his face. He slowly releases the elf, smiling softly before turning to his wife - and he’s immediately bowled over by Rena, his wife sobbing and holding him close as he chuckles and nuzzles under her beak, a content smile on his face.
Rena…Rena relaxes. She relaxes properly for the first time in a long time, finally safe in the arms of the man she’d eaten her husband for the first time in far longer than she cares to remember. It had been one thing when she’d known her husband was within the blades he’d forged for her…but now he’s here in her arms, and almost everything is right. Yes, half her children are dead, frozen in their eggs, and the other half still have yet to hatch, but she has her mate back.
The satchel holding the eggs is fine; Rena had been careful to set it down before tackling her husband to the ground.
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