03-19-2012, 09:45 AM
There may be some stuff that is NSFW/young eyes~
This post's music:
"Freedom." Finally, a chance to leave her, do what I want... experience the world."
The fine lady sits regally atop her well groomed, crimson hawkstrider. Her face points the sky, her eyes closed in blissful thought and ideas. The sun is shining bright, the trees swaying softly in the afternoon's breeze; a picture of this land's heaven. She is seemingly oblivious to other travellers - but not them to her. Crossing the Dead Scar seems nothing to her; a quick wave of the hand and the remnants of the Undead assaulting her fall to the ground in a flash of fire.
"I do hope Mummy doesn't feel to bad for me. I'm sure she understands after so long it was time to leave."
~
Caer Darrow.
No birds cheep, no breeze blows. The forsaken land of the Undead is cold, damp. The smell clings to you like glue and the sickly yellows and browns burn in to your vision. The lady looks around as she settles outside of the broken fort. She sniffs, once, her eyes narrowing in morbid curiosity. How can she resist? Such a strong smell has not touched her nostrils since the darkest of rituals years before.
"Could this be the home of a Demon?"
She dismounts her hawkstrider, giving it a reassuring pat. The moment she steps away the bird sprints away from the place; clearly the feeling in her stomach was mirrored in to it's. She sighs, fear hitting her now. Glancing back, the disgusting bridge may as well be the bazaar of Silvermoon due to the horrible feeling she got from simply glancing of what was ahead of her.
She steels herself, fists clenched and staff gripped. Shaken, walking in, her fel green eyes dart around the hollow area, the toppled walls and dilapidated buildings only offering themselves to the sad fate of the once grand academy.
"Why, hello..."
She jumps, the gut feeling of terror slamming in to her as she sets eyes on the figure standing calmly in the centre of the misty courtyard. Her shaking eyes look him up and down; a huge, imposing figure of a Fel Orc, clamped in dark plate and an axe as big as herself over his back. Her fear locks her in place, not even a though of retaliation crosses her frozen mind.
He steps closer, ever calm in his mannerisms. His eyes twinkle with amusement and malice, his fingers slowly flexing themselves. He knows her terror.
~
"Just one drop. It can't do any harm."
He shakes the vial of black, slimy liquid slowly, the glass glinting in the dull light. A reassuring smile paints his features. What can a girl do? This is just what she is looking for. She reaches a shaky hand to take the vial, her eyes darting between the vial and the Orc's face.
"Just one drop can't hurt..."
This post's music:
Spoiler:
Spoiler:
"Freedom." Finally, a chance to leave her, do what I want... experience the world."
The fine lady sits regally atop her well groomed, crimson hawkstrider. Her face points the sky, her eyes closed in blissful thought and ideas. The sun is shining bright, the trees swaying softly in the afternoon's breeze; a picture of this land's heaven. She is seemingly oblivious to other travellers - but not them to her. Crossing the Dead Scar seems nothing to her; a quick wave of the hand and the remnants of the Undead assaulting her fall to the ground in a flash of fire.
"I do hope Mummy doesn't feel to bad for me. I'm sure she understands after so long it was time to leave."
~
Caer Darrow.
No birds cheep, no breeze blows. The forsaken land of the Undead is cold, damp. The smell clings to you like glue and the sickly yellows and browns burn in to your vision. The lady looks around as she settles outside of the broken fort. She sniffs, once, her eyes narrowing in morbid curiosity. How can she resist? Such a strong smell has not touched her nostrils since the darkest of rituals years before.
"Could this be the home of a Demon?"
She dismounts her hawkstrider, giving it a reassuring pat. The moment she steps away the bird sprints away from the place; clearly the feeling in her stomach was mirrored in to it's. She sighs, fear hitting her now. Glancing back, the disgusting bridge may as well be the bazaar of Silvermoon due to the horrible feeling she got from simply glancing of what was ahead of her.
She steels herself, fists clenched and staff gripped. Shaken, walking in, her fel green eyes dart around the hollow area, the toppled walls and dilapidated buildings only offering themselves to the sad fate of the once grand academy.
"Why, hello..."
She jumps, the gut feeling of terror slamming in to her as she sets eyes on the figure standing calmly in the centre of the misty courtyard. Her shaking eyes look him up and down; a huge, imposing figure of a Fel Orc, clamped in dark plate and an axe as big as herself over his back. Her fear locks her in place, not even a though of retaliation crosses her frozen mind.
He steps closer, ever calm in his mannerisms. His eyes twinkle with amusement and malice, his fingers slowly flexing themselves. He knows her terror.
~
"Just one drop. It can't do any harm."
He shakes the vial of black, slimy liquid slowly, the glass glinting in the dull light. A reassuring smile paints his features. What can a girl do? This is just what she is looking for. She reaches a shaky hand to take the vial, her eyes darting between the vial and the Orc's face.
"Just one drop can't hurt..."