Author Topic: Farina's Sketchbook  (Read 234 times)


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Farina's Sketchbook
« on: February 27, 2020, 01:18:03 PM »

Farina and Orla’s grand escape. Age 12
I had heard the guardsmen talking about that lone tree on the outskirts of the village again, the one I can almost make out from this distance, almost like it’s taunting me. The chieftain says I am not allowed to leave the village till I can look after myself and its for my own benefit that I remain under watch from the guards till I see differently. “sightseeing is not part of your training” is something of a catch phrase for him recently.
Luckily, I wasn’t always being watched so I had more than plenty of time to ‘train’ as instructed, shapeshifting to be precise. The easy part was for Orla to leave and wait for me at the entrance of the village.
Birds have always been my main reason to daydream. Being denied freedom that birds themselves take advantage of is almost selfish. So now it’s my time to give myself the freedom of one night.
Nobody was to be on watch for birds as I never showed anyone this result of my training, made it almost too easy to fly over the village and meet Orla. Perched myself on the closest branch on the closest tree from the lone tree everyone talked about, while Orla sat panting near the base of the tree.
The sight was worth the trouble I would’ve endured if I was caught tonight. Ill just haver to settle drawing this later since I couldn’t exactly bring my book. Think I’ll have to call it “The grand escape of Wolves and Birds”


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Re: Farina's Sketchbook
« Reply #1 on: March 16, 2020, 04:58:08 PM »

Farina's Mask. Age 10
These masks are important to my people and important to our culture. We each are given a mask when we preform a feat that is considered worthy enough for the clan head. One of the senior witches rewarded me with one when I was 10 and I have never forgotten the feeling.
My training was tiring at times. Unsettling and tiring. I became more and more beast like with every lesson, more deadly with every test. I was more adapted to controlling and forcing creatures to my will rather than my other boring lessons on Witchsight.
When the time came for me to do my last test, my last lesson, I was pitted against a large bear. I can't recall what people called it, I can only remember it being released into the pit and then I was standing above its corpse. According to my teacher, I had forced the creature to show me its weak points and slashed with my claws until it stopped moving. Amanmaar, our head Keeper, was impressed at the lessons the new witches had done but I wasn't interested in what he was saying at the time. I was told that my teacher Svannih had wanted me to come see her immediately after the meeting with Amanmaar, hopefully she has good news rather than another lesson.
It turns out that she had expected me to pass regardless and had a mask set aside for me. Bland as it was I loved it. Something that was proof of my strength, abilities and training. Luckily, I can cover the mask in whatever I want and make it apart of my headdress. Just need to settle on a creature...I've always been fond of the honey badgers that live nearby. 
« Last Edit: April 13, 2020, 07:55:30 PM by Mike Moriarty »

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Re: Farina's Sketchbook
« Reply #2 on: March 17, 2020, 03:43:48 PM »
Nice!  8) I am so jealous, I have zero drawing ability and its always pained me.

I know its probably wrong, but I do tend to think of Farina like this.
Dan: A title of honor for respected men, equivalent to Master or Sir. Any of 12 levels of proficiency at the grade of black belt in martial arts such as judo and karate. An expert or expert level in shogi and other such games. He that judges.


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Re: Farina's Sketchbook
« Reply #3 on: April 05, 2020, 03:54:33 PM »
I started thinking of Farina to be like her when I found out she could have a wolf familiar  ;D except Farina is developing her claws and learning to become an actual wolf


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Re: Farina's Sketchbook
« Reply #4 on: April 05, 2020, 04:39:26 PM »

Glenys’s sketch of Farina 

Training her abilities was all Farina was doing during most of her days, but the few hours she had outside of training she would draw and write. Not great stories or even wise words for the clan, but stories about her life as she goes on living it. 

Farina had friends within the clan and there were few she would open to about her drawings and stories. One of her friends, Glenys, had stayed awake past hours to talk to Farina and the two had bonded over their drawings of various objects, people and events. As the night became darker and darker Farina had fallen asleep and left her sketchbook so Glenys could draw something of her own. 

The next day came and so did the long period of training. Glenys had talked about how Farina would like what she had drawn and wouldn’t say any more about it. Her training would go on for a longer time that night so Farina went to see what had been entered in her sketchbook, waiting for people to clear for the night she opened it and found a drawing of herself. On the back of the page was a short sentence. 

“For Farina, let this be shown that witches have a soft side regardless of what path they may follow.” 



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Re: Farina's Sketchbook
« Reply #5 on: April 14, 2020, 03:28:00 PM »

Farina’s ritual for Orla 

It was the middle of Winter when I was told that I would be performing my contract to my familiar and it couldn’t have come at a better time. For a whole year I was told to think about what I want for my familiar and to create something that will be used to concentrate on that form; either something belonging to one of the creatures or a handcrafted item. There were no rules regarding how many items and a choice between the two, so naturally I chose to craft a totem to that of the wolves' that thrive in the area and the blood of an Alpha. 

Before this ritual however I would need to train myself just a little more, change myself in a sense, so I can feel one with my familiar. It isn’t normal for Witches to disregard the wisdom of the clan and less common for witches to focus of the magic they tend to use. If you haven’t guessed by know, I belong to the former. I loved shapeshifting, being free and manipulating those around me. Svannih was similar to myself. Or was I similar to Svannih... She had taught me how to use my magic and would enjoy my rebellions to the knowledge and wisdom lessons, going so far as to skip the remaining lesson for my practical training.  The smile she would wear when I pass her tests will always bring me warmth even in the winters and the hardest of trials. Her death was the very worst thing someone could've done to hurt me and those murderers will have their turn in due time, but not yet. No, this isn't the time to be writing about those misguided traitors. 

It took almost the full year before I had made my body more of those, I take the form off and control with their abilities. It made my hands and fingers those of bears and my wounds to be healed of those unnatural creatures' adventurers wouldn’t want to face in long battles. My magic would make enemies my servants, my hands would tear through those that made threats and my wounds would heal as if nothing had even dared to cut me. Now I was ready to perform the ritual for something I would have protecting me and keeping me company. 

I was to be taken into the forest where I would be allowed to perform the ritual of my choosing for my chosen familiar, with the supplies I had brought with me and those that I requested, and left alone to be returned when I have succeeded or when the guardsmen find my body. 

The night is one of the coldest I've been exposed to, but that would be due to the long black dress I decided to wear. I would wear the wolf pelts I had requested from the Alpha I hunted later after the ritual has been set up. The bowl I will fill with the Alphas blood is placed within a small ritual circle I had made with various small stones, as the base, firewood as the connecting lines of the five corners, which will be alight during the ritual, and finally the totem of a wolf will be placed beside myself. Svannih gave me this idea as it will give the familiar the impression that they will be at my side till the end, and I couldn’t give up the idea as it was just too good.
The ritual itself allows the witch to understand the powers of nature: Wyrhta, the power that creates, Wielda, the power that rules, and Wratha, the power that reacts. First there Wythra, the power that creates life and shapes it. Then follows Wielda, the power that gives life its rules, the power that allows good harvests and natural diseases. All are equal to the power of Wielda. Out of the chaos of life comes Wythra, the power of corruption. When nature becomes used as a weapon or there is too much hatred Wrytha reveals itself and it comes in unnatural forms. such forms are beings called Primal Blight-beasts and blighted creatures, horrible things that only obey their own rules and causes the destruction of the other powers. It only ends when it has ran its course and time allows Wyrhta to once again flourish. The witch uses their understanding of Wyrhta to create an environment in which the ritual of their familiar is something they would like to visit: Wielda's understanding is their ability to draw in the creature and keep it under control until the contract has been formed, finally Wythra's understanding is that of a warning; once the bond has been corrupted the bond is broken between master and familiar, forever. 

Shortly after midnight, I had lit the fires and slowly boiled the blood in the bowl. With my mask on to help concentrate, I held the knife Svannih gifted me for this occasion, and sliced the palm of my hand all the way to the wrist. I had to make as much blood as I could flow into the bowl before the wound healed and the bleeding stopped. As the two liquids met within the bowl, they would become one. The scent of the blood on my hands and mask would bring out the wolf and it would witness me as one stronger than itself. A being that requires a servant to aid her in her journeys is all the wolf would see and after the words have been said the witch would share her life with this creature. 

As the wolf drew closer a sudden thought appeared in my mind, a blurry idea that began to clear as the wolf neared. A name. That must be it, the wolf was telling me her name! Orla. Immediately I tell her my name hoping she can hear me and the contract can finally be formed. Farina and Orla would begin their adventures and face the good and the bad that life could throw at them. 
« Last Edit: April 16, 2020, 02:26:34 AM by Will_you_please »


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Re: Farina's Sketchbook
« Reply #6 on: April 20, 2020, 06:00:37 PM »

Farina meeting Miralba, Amanmaar and Yeleta

I can’t actually believe it. Okay, I honestly don’t know where to start with this one. First, I think I'll need to start awhile back, and talk about these three witches. 


He is the Keeper for Clan Godinja and the Witch who looked after me in the early days before I started training with Svannih. The keepers are known to be the leaders of witches in their respected clans and were responsible to maintain the balance between Wyrtha and Wielda as to prevent the spread of Wratha. This means that Amanmaar was the one we would go to settle our issues or seek knowledge in problems we ourselves couldn’t find the solution to. Amanmaar is kind and just towards all witches and clan's folk but this kindness isn’t a weakness few outside the clans might think, for holding this position also meant you had plentiful knowledge and abilities worthy of being named keeper. This brought respect to Amanmaar for everyone within our culture would know that they can easily defend themselves and many others if provoked. 

Amanmaar is a witch of the green path, and a powerful one. He doesn’t show a lot of emotions and can appear to prefer to use his actions to speak rather than his words. Those who have known him know that he has a vast knowledge on the ancient lore, the practicability to walk through the forest better than hunter or adventurer, and is more than capable of creating tonics: potions and alchemy items that are needed for the clan. 


She is what the witches call, Huldra. Huldra is the position of leader of the witches essentially but nothing as formal or structured as that. The whole dynamic order of the witches is that of trust and partnership, this means that nobody is `in charge` but we all rely on the partnership between the clans and their keepers. This is why the Huldra meets with the representatives of the clans to settle issues and provide knowledge. Personally, I don’t know much about Yeleta for she has been Huldra for 13 years and became Huldra when I was just a child, but I do know that to become Huldra, you must be a keeper or be learning directly from the Huldra. This is because the Huldra represents the best of being a witch. The most knowledgeable, not only powerful in terms of strength, witches who can provide wisdom and solutions to all witches are the only ones to be considered to be the next Huldra. 

Over the years I've heard rumours of the Huldra and people have called her strong willed and more terrifyingly, has been known to be able to stare down even the most belligerent clan chieftain. This makes me think it's somewhat similar to my glare curse but I would like to believe that she just has a natural strength to make those around her buckle if she needs them to. It is also rumoured that she has the gift of dream sight which has been known to reveal the sign of impending disasters.  If I didn’t know that she was a spiritualist I would’ve thought that I was similar to Yeleta, but if quite the opposite. The fact that she is the Huldra means that she has the knowledge I don’t. Where I have focused on being a warrior, Yeleta has learned much more than me and is now in the position to help the clan as a whole form the top. 


Now this is where it gets personal. I've heard of the name Miralba for most of my life whilst training to become a witch, more so when I began my training with Svannih. As a Blood Wader Svannih would constantly tell me the tales of Miralba, known for being the best shapeshifting blood wader to date. She became someone I hoped to meet and exchange thoughts with. Maybe even to someday be trained by her for I basically am a younger version of her. Svannih would sometimes comment on how advanced I was, compared to most other witches during our training, and maybe would be on par as the legendary Miralba. 

There were many tales of Miralba that I've been told but I think my favourite one was the last one Svannih told me before the last time I would see her. 

“Miralba can take many forms but her greatest feat is to take the forms of things nobody else can take. She can become the largest and most cunning wolf while everyone else would be a beta in comparison.”. thinking I'm someone's Beta really boiled my blood when I was younger but as I heard the tales, I became more and more determined to meet her once and compare myself. Who knows maybe she is better than me but only by a margin? Anyway, from what I can remember the story went something a little like this:

“There was a clan is the far East that came under attack by monsters only veteran warriors and adventurer could take on for these were no ordinary beasts that roam the forest, these were beasts made from Wratha. The Beasts would attack anyone who neared them and slowly they began to make their way to the clan's main village, either by sheer coincidence or intent. The Huldra at the time, already known to her that Miralba was becoming a powerful warrior, had tasked Miralba to deal with them and take anyone she needed. Naturally Miralba waved the idea of taking anyone that wasn’t needed in this fight and had decided to fly east and check out these beasts herself. Miralba would describe these beasts as 3-meter-tall mix of animals, some bear and some boar, but only a small number of beasts were still here; as if their numbers had dwindled since their original attacks. It is said that she took the form of her well-known form, a hunger wolf, but much, much larger; and began her battle. When it comes to the details, Miralba doesn’t talk about the actual fight but she is known to be a monster when in the heat of battle, so we can see there being a battle between monsters. Naturally, Miralba returned to the Huldra and reported her success and brought the claws and tusks as proof. No one has ever seen a scar on Miralba which goes to show that she is the Blood Wader with the most control of her bestial abilities.”

Obviously hearing tales such as these made me motivated to learnt these skills myself. By constantly training I learned to become a Blood Wader, Shapeshift, manipulate and adapted the ability to make my own wounds disappear. Miralba is one of the few people I respect and I hope that one day she can see me follow in her footsteps. 

Let's bring this back to the present.

Myself, and the other witches in this group have agreed to meet with the Huldra, Miralba and Amanmaar to discuss the current affairs of the disaster that is the culling of the witches by the sovereign oath. I was shocked to my core to finally see Miralba before me...even more shocked to witness her shapeshift almost differently than me. It looked smoother and quicker but that could be an experience thing, hopefully. But this was Miralba, the famous Blood Wader that I had always wanted to meet and talk to, and yet this wasn’t the time to be overtaken by glee so I'm thankful I had my mask on otherwise she might've seen the face I was pulling trying to hold in my feelings. 

I was taken back by the knowledge of Amanmaar being alive as when the culling of the Godinja clan began, he was attending a meeting so he wasn’t there to help protect the others, and had to meet him to see if he’s okay.  The morning couldn’t have taken more time to arrive as the three witches made their way to our little camp. Thankfully Crack-bones had prepared something to drink and eat for the guests because I was too taken back to act courteously so I best thank him later after this meeting. 

Since I was so taken back by the three highest ranked witches I could think off, it made Amanmaar make the first move and he hugged me. I wanted to say something but I just felt relieved that someone had actually survived from the clan other than me that all I could do was hug him back. Unfortunately, Svannih couldn’t be here and I don’t have the heart to tell Amanmaar that, not yet at least, this didn’t feel like the time with the Huldra and Miralba waiting beside us. No instead I held my tongue and thought of what I was going to ask them when the time is right. 

“Did anyone else make it out?” “What’s happened with the clan?” “what really happened during the fight with the beasts?” “Can you show me some forms?” “Can you really regenerate?” “What are your other abilities?” “What do you think of my familiar?” 

Questions. Questions. They just wouldn’t stop coming to me and yet I couldn’t ask a single one. This meeting with these people just didn’t feel right, I needed to hold myself together and keep my head straight. Asking questions now would just waste time. So, I'll just ask them when its night. 
« Last Edit: April 21, 2020, 10:07:54 PM by Will_you_please »


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Re: Farina's Sketchbook
« Reply #7 on: April 26, 2020, 07:43:57 PM »
Part 1 (Story exceeds 20,000 characters so have to be in two parts)

This story isn’t like the other story's farina has shared in the past. There will not be an image for this story for she would rather not draw something to remind herself of this day. You may consider this a nightmare relived or a constant reminder of her purpose in Davakar. 

The Day of The Culling 

A horrible day. Today would be a horrible day indeed. The clouds were showing a dark shade across the sky and we knew what would be coming. This day of all days and it had to start raining. Svannih had finally given me a day where she would teach me something new, something “deadly and effective” as she constantly described it. For the past week she has been teasing me that she knows something that I would want to learn, and because I don’t know it, she knew how to tease me about it, obviously that led to me being far more interested than a witch of my calibre should've been. There were the typical witches who would go off, learn knowledge and wisdom that are befitting a witch, while I am more interested in learning how to evolve my techniques, abilities and powers into something that everyone would talk about: in fear or awe. 

I would just begin the day by waking up Orla and Glenys with some loud and sudden shouts which would've ended with Orla watching curiously while Glenys and I would prepare for the training and lessons of the day. But this wouldn’t going to be a typical day. Glenys had already woken up and left me a note.

“Farina. Sorry I didn’t wake you but you looked like you needed the sleep, crashing into bed and falling asleep without a word is becoming the new normal for you it seems. Whatever Svannih has been putting you through I'd use this day to recover. I’ll be using today to practise some runes I need to work on. See you tonight. Glenys.”

I couldn’t help but laugh becasue Glenys just didn’t understand that today would be more hellish than usual. Learning something new from Svannih is harsh but exciting and I can’t wait. Orla obeys my every command as if she’s a slave who doesn’t have any free will, but she is a living animal who chose to become something greater by siding with me. The least I can do is let her sleep as long as she wants while I get ready for the day. 

I knew today would be torture from the moment I saw Svannihs’ little smile as I approached the arena where we would train together with Orla and advance the claws, I had developed a couple of years ago. I couldn’t begin to describe the type of training I would go through whenever I learned something new. It would be hard but enjoyable. Eventually it would just become exciting whenever I would use the ability because it’s proof of the years, I've spent enduring the harsh training sessions. It turned out that the new thing she wanted to teach me was a way to make my claws stronger, her words exactly were.

“We need to make those claws of yours longer farina. How else are you going to fight something that’s in your face?”

Apparently having Orla doesn’t make up for the lack off range that she had wanted me to adopt. The training itself was cut short due to an announcement from the Chieftain about some meeting he had wanted all the Witches to attend, apparently it involves the recent talks about the Sovereign oath and witches. Personally, I wanted to skip the meeting and continue training but Svannih wanted me to go back and gather my things for some outdoors training she wanted me to do after the meeting. The weird part of all this was that she walked me to my place and waited till I was packed. This has never happened before and I began to notice how quiet everything was. Normally there would be distant lessons going on, conversations being made, but for once, it’s silent. 

Svannih would look as though she was expecting someone to barge in but wouldn’t ask me to speed up, so maybe she was expecting someone she knew? Or maybe she just wasn’t worried about who actually showed up? 

Once everything I thought I would need was packed, even the secret potions and vials Svannih had given me as a gift last week, Svannih finally turned towards me and told me what was going on.

“We need to leave the village and don’t pretend you don’t know why we are leaving. You're smart enough to have noticed how people have been acting today, so we need to grab a few people, and we need to leave now.”

I fully trust Svannih so if she says we need to leave then we need to leave. People have been acting strange and it must have something to do with the meeting that has been called. From what I've heard, the Sovereign Oath have been killing, torturing witches and mystics throughout the clans: that have sided with them of course. The only issue I couldn’t piece together was, if Svannih believes that it's going to happen here and now then why does she know and only just started acting on it? It turns out that she was actually keeping an eye out for something, just before another word was said, Svannih ducked to the side of the door so instincts took over me and I did the same on the other side. 

From the other side of the door I could see a group of warriors from the clan clearly patrolling the area, but it’s all wrong; soldiers shouldn’t be able to enter these grounds, its prohibited for non-witches to be allowed access here. This is bad, so, so bad, if there are warriors here then there must be something wrong with the clan. There's three of us and seven of them so it wouldn’t be an easy fight if we have to fight our way through them, but there are others we will need to worry about. Svannih said we had to grab others and get out so fighting should be limited, if they don’t get in our way that is. 

After staying around for a few minutes and clearly not finding what they were searching for, the soldiers left without so much of a scratch on them. Think I would’ve preferred to warm up with them before the fighting later but, this is fine I suppose. Leaving was easy, even without changing our forms we managed to slip out of the witches' area to the main communal area of the village: where our cloaks would become useful but the issue was Orla. There aren’t a lot of Blood Waders within the village and I am the only one that has chosen a wolf to be their familiar, so Orla is very noticeable and known to belong to me, meaning there’s a high chance we could be found before we even reach the gates. Whether it was luck or a cruel plan from something higher than us, that’s up for debate to those who survived the next 20 minutes. 

It was sudden and unprompted. They just came out of nowhere and were just there. No one could react, unless you were actively watching it unfold. Dozens upon dozens of people came screaming into the area, crashing into everyone, trying to get away from something that’s clearly dangerous. I could make out various types of bodies within the masses: Warriors, common clansmen, traders and witches. Something was making all these people run for their lives and it must’ve been something that entered the village suddenly and silently for nobody to have noticed. Except it wasn’t a monster that was chasing people. Warriors and Guardsmen that you would’ve seen manning their posts and protecting the clansmen within were grabbing, killing, tearing anyone they got near to. Orders were being barked across the order of execution for the enemies of the Sovereign Oath. Some Warriors stood their grounds against the oncoming wave of bloodthirsty traitors, few even going as far as yelling for the witches to flee as they took their battle stances. Some did in fact flee while others stood within the small groups of resistance, they must've known what would be coming because if they didn’t then they were naive to think they could've won or even stood a chance against that force. It happened too quickly to register what exactly happened. Svannih had to pull me away from the horror and what I saw would forever be implanted in my memories of hatred for these traitors. People were immediately thrown to the dirt as the tide hit whatever was in their way, warriors screamed as they were trampled on: stabbed, strangled, restrained, gagged, beheaded and just cut down where they stood. 

Svannih took me to a building I haven’t been in before and immediately became surrounded by various figurers all dressed in black cloaks. A few seconds went by before the dark figures sheathed their weapons and somewhat relaxed, based on the situation outside I'll say not much effort was put into relaxing, they all took down their hoods and I recognised some of them to be witches. A few teachers, some students I've seen working in the rooms; not much fighting though, and only a few warriors I've seen guarding the doors to the witch's area. Some of the witch’s pulled Svannih aside and quickly shared some words before breaking off to garb their belongings. 

“Farina, I need you to check and see people have their bags and something to defend themselves with. If it's not needed then toss them. You got it?” I nodded and began quickly making sure people were ready for the next phase of this master plan I hoped Svannih had. Some of these witch's had brought some vials and potions I recognised as Purple sap and herbal cures, but had decided that books on lore would be appropriate. I discarded them and moved on to the next. Looking around, the only fighters I could see were the guards, myself and Svannih. Maybe the older witches were skilled fighters regardless of the panicking looks they all shared, do I look like them? I’m not shaking, I'm focussed and alert to the screaming coming from outside, and the scent of fire burning away somewhere in the distance. I look towards the guards and they themselves are gripping their swords and axes as if they are afraid of dropping them. Battle hardened warriors, holding together what confidence they must have, I have nothing but respect for these few who have chosen to stay here, to protect what little they can. 

Am I not scared of what's happening? Maybe I'm just use to high tension situations...or is this what people feel just before fighting to the death? Me or them? Well I know that answer, I won’t be the one to die today if given the option so maybe I'll just focus and get through this with Svannih. Almost like she was reading my mind, Svannih came over to me after her little meeting with the other witches. 

“You doing okay? This is not something I taught you to handle yet you haven't missed a step or panicked, so are you sure you are okay Farina?” Instinctively I told her I was fine and the reality of it all was that I actually was doing okay. Maybe it’s the shock of seeing people who were supposed to protect you, going around killing everyone and whatever else I can hear them doing. But as much as I need Svannih she probably needs me to watch her back, so I can’t let her down here. 

Apparently Svannih knew something like this was going to happen so she planned for the people she trusted to get as many students as possible to escape the chaos that would be coming, anything bigger would've ended in disaster apparently. A friend of hers had begged her to leave after learning of the plan to cull all mystics within the village, that the meeting was a trap the chieftain had planted to get it over and done with quickly; Unlucky for him people aren’t easily turned against their friends. One thing that does bother me is that I am only just being told, we could’ve left with many more over the coming days but apparently, we were slowly being monitored and followed everywhere we went.


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Re: Farina's Sketchbook
« Reply #8 on: April 26, 2020, 07:44:59 PM »
Part 2

Our lessons, our training sessions and our day to day life was being watched from the people we expected to protect us. A majority of the village has sided with the chieftain, some going for the honey words that they preach about rebuilding the empire and that mystics are the cause of the collapse. Some even going out of safety, but I can’t blame them. Normal people wouldn’t have survived the initial charge of the fighting let alone put themselves through torture or worse. 

From the looks of thing we might be fighting our way through the gates. The mess outside has died down and I doubt that the traitors will just go back to their jobs this quickly. 10 minutes it took for them to snuff the fighters outside and now the smell of burning flesh it growing stronger, they are probably burning the corpses as we stand here. Not even a burial will be given. It seems like we will be leaving any second now and if there are guards out there, we will have to fight our way out, either we escape or we die within the next few minutes. 

Everyone looks as though they are about to vomit, the loyal trio are acting more confident now though; they must've accepted that they will be responsible to get out of here or die like the rest, that no help will come to them outside this small band. As a warrior I can’t feel anything but respect for these brave men, they easily could break or turn tail but here they are ready to fight against the very same people they probably drank with and fought side by side with. Even if one of us lives today they must allow their names to be known at least. Junn, Grisruk and Sturd. People won’t care about what they did in their pasts, what food they liked or even what wars they’ve fought in. Once this is over, people will only care about those who defended the witches, and what happened when they were needed the most. I can tell from the look on their faces that they don’t expect to walk away from this without any deaths, and I would be nothing more than a child if I thought that too. This is reality. This is the brutal truth of fighting and war: blood, death, mutilation and screams. These are the only things that come from it and the stories come long after the fighting is done, by those who haven’t lived it or those who find pleasure from it. 

Svannih wanted to talk to me about something before we leave. 

“Farina, we will need to get through that gate and flee East. Rush forward and don’t wait for people to catch up. You, Orla and myself will be the Vanguard while the Trio will hold the rear. The students will be surrounded by the teachers, so don’t hold back and make a hole for everyone to punch through. That’s all we need to do to get everyone out but if everything fails, I want you to grab the nearest ones, run and don’t wait for anyone. You got that?”. With a mutual understanding, we all began to prepare for the push that would either lead to our deaths or to the forest. Neither is a good option but it’s the only one we have apparently. 

Svannih began the push with the smashing of the door, fragments falling as she ran towards the right, Orla following me only a fraction behind. Immediately we could see only a handful of the traitors in front of us, and clearly not expecting an attack. Curses filled the air as they took their stances but it wouldn’t help them much, our own curses could be heard and the traitors had nothing to protect them from what would happen. Vines began to spring beneath them, blood started pouring from their eyes and mouths with every step they would take, any that weren’t hit with a curse Svannih sped towards. Seeing her take the left side led me to take the right. Svannih can take care of what's in her path so I would just focus on the ones in front of me. The first one I met swung his sword a little high so I drove my claws in-between his collarbone, Orla dragging down another who had been hit with the vines and tearing his throat out. No orders had to be given, Orla knew what I want her to do and she knew how to work with me, if I didn’t finish the job, she would be close by to do it within the second. Nobody could anticipate the order of attacks or where they would come from. Quickly we slaughtered the ones afflicted with the various curses the other witches had casted, the rear-guard taking watch to make we wouldn’t be taken by surprise as we finished these ones off. Unfortunately, it didn’t matter how quickly we took care of these ones for a much larger group was coming into sight and what they just witnessed us doing caused them to react with a volley of arrows. The rear-guard shouted as much of a warning as they could but not many of us has shields or cover, students and teachers were hit and one was stuck dead with an arrow to the head. This would be the worse to expect. Running up to Svanniha and the others I held those who could walk as best as I could do and pulled them to the gate and waited for more to come before escaping. One of the rear guardsmen, Grisruk,  managed to fall back with a student in his arms and his brothers were holding as many as they could back, Svannih was telling everyone to get away as more arrows rained down upon them. More dead littered the muddy grounds and fewer made it to the gate. Svannih herself would then join the ranks of the fighting to hold of the traitors. My instinct begged me to join the fray and stand next to those who would fight and possible die but Svannih orders were directed to me. 

“Get out and save the ones you have!”. Grisruk began to drag me back towards the forest as I saw the two brave Guards fighting alongside Svannih in a futile effort of holding back what they could. The duo would slash and hack anything that came close as the Blood Wader would rip apart anyone who thought they were stronger than her, axes and swords alike would miss her as she would dance between them and deliver her own attacks. She was getting so far away before I realised that I was at the edge of the forest and I was just standing there as everyone else was escaping. Grisruk began pulling me again as my vision focused onto more than the conflict. That burning smell was in fact corpses being burnt but not in usual manner. These were stakes of fire bellowing into the sky, as people we enveloped by flames. Bodies beyond recognition, bound to the stakes, decorated the main area like they were murders tried guilty. Is that how these people see us? Throwing us into the same group as lowlifes and law breakers? 

More cries drew me back into the conflict as more bodies littered the grounds, the fires illuminating the background, the shouts and the orders filling the air. The Guardsmen had fallen and now it was just Svannih against more than I could count. The last thing I saw before the forest trees blocked the path to the gate was archers unleashing a volley into Svannih. I Screamed as I saw the arrows fly and Svannih falling to the ground. It was a horrible scream, a thing a creature would do before becoming enveloped by rage and bloodlust. Grisruk had to use his full strength to keep me from running towards the gate, whilst trying to pull me further into the forest. 

A wild hatred washed over me in an instant, I didn't even realise what was holding me back I was that focussed on going back and killing them all. I took Orla toppling me over for me to come to my senses, the blacken fur of hers has always had a calming effect on me, and once I was back, I knew I had messed up. First things first, I need to get everyone away from here. I instruct Grisruk to lift someone who can't walk onto Orla and carry one himself, while taking one myself. Everyone would have to help each other till we can hide and treat the wounds. 

The weird thing was that nobody has followed us, at least nobody Orla could sense, those traitors must be recovering from the fight and gathering reinforcements to pursue us soon. May as well take this time to do what I can for these people. Thankfully Grisruk knew some knowledge on healing so I had him help me with the patients, arrow shafts struck out the bodies of those we were carrying while everyone else had to deal with the mental strain of what just happened. I knew I was a bomb waiting to explode, I could feel myself thinking and replaying what happened, but I need to focus for the time being, just until everyone is safe enough. We ended up losing a kid when the bleeding from removed shaft wouldn’t stop. I didn’t even get his name before he died and no one here knows him. His teacher was one of the ones to attend that meeting. His last moments weren’t those of pain or screaming, it was sudden but at least he wasn’t alone. We can’t dig a grave or even burn his body, we have to move and move fast. The next few hours were brutal to a lot of us, many wanted to give up and fall where they were but that isn’t going to happen here and if they want to die then they can help defend the rest of this band if that time comes.

Finally, we managed to find a small hole that led down into a cave, this wouldn’t be ideal to stay but we need to rest before people start breaking. I let Grisruk deal with the people while I get some dry wood and plants for those who are in pain. It’s getting dark before I realise, I've been out here for some time, and I need to get back before people think something g has happened. Everyone is worn out, they are at their limit it seems, people are silently muttering to one another or keeping to themselves and this is to be expected. The Grisruk was the only one who I felt was actually trained for this or at least knew how to deal with something like this, I am running on fumes and there is something I need to get off my chest and I need to do it soon it seems. I let the Grisruk know I need some air so Orla will stay here while I keep watch up there, as I indicate to the sky. He nods but doesn’t say more than.

“Come back before midnight. I'll take over when you return.”

I Tell Orla to stay behind while I shapeshifted into a bird, I need to tell them some reason so I can get some alone time so I can deal with all of this. It only takes a minute or two to find an area surrounded by tree where I won’t disturb the setup we have got. Once I relaxed it began, the tears just didn’t stop and the hatred was just overwhelming. I have never felt loss before but it feels like my body is giving up, the sight of Svannih falling to those arrows just kept replaying in my head and nothing could stop it. But I need this to happen, I need to get through this before I break, myself. The sadness, and guilt may disappear after a while but there will be the constant pain I'll feel when I think of what happened; The hatred will more than likely stay with me till I die though. The Sovereign Oath will pay, the chieftain will pay and anyone else who stand in my way will pay. I won’t be the only one to feel like this and there's a good chance I won't be the last, those traitors can’t expect everyone to be happy about what they’ve done. Even if they lose this war, they are fighting with the Ambrians, the final blow will be dealt by me once I find something that can help me fight a whole army. After everyone is safe enough I may as well venture into the Davakar, join a group and find something useful perhaps. 

After the tears finally stop and I can collect my thoughts I shapeshift back into my bird form and do those circles I said I would do. Thankfully I didn’t see any patrols or hunting parties so we either aren't a threat, which they will regret, or we lost them. Returning to the camp was something I didn’t want to do but I can’t let these people die now, I promised Svannih I'll get them out so that’s what I’ll do. Think I’ll sleep deeply tonight, but those dreams aren’t going to something ill want to remember but sleep none the less. 


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Re: Farina's Sketchbook
« Reply #9 on: May 07, 2020, 06:20:22 PM »

Farina walking with Yeleta, Miralba and Amanmaar 

After being led through the under city of Symbar, by the undead soldiers Lord Siriad Ador-An lent us, we finally arrived at the Ziggurat that may hold the power source to The Throne of Thorns, there was what looks like the base of a giant tree leading up to the canopy above us, that must be the same one I saw the Sovreign oath camp at earlier yesterday. 

After the meeting with Yeleta, Miralba and Amanmaar earlier today, the group was to make our way to the ziggurat and feed the information back to them via me. I am to fly through the roots and await the witches at the tower then show them the way to meet with the rest of the group. Thankfully this plan succeeded without a single issue. Bar leaving Orla with the group without a quick way of escape, but I trust Yagaba and Crack-bones to protect her when I leave her with them. 

This is where the day goes from mildly bad to a day to remember for good reasons. Walking through the corrupted under city was the worst part of the day but now, I have been given the good part of the day, balance has been achieved. 

Flying back from the root canopy I was intercepted by an eagle which reminded me of the eagle that came at us yesterday. Miralba’s eagle form obviously. She naturally must've been looking for me which that must mean that they have found the Iron pact, completed their mission, and now wish to be shown the route to the Ziggurat. Instead of flying to the tower as planned, I had taken a detour to the camp to grab a purple sap to use back in the under city, Miralba followed me into the camp but decided to stay outside the living fortress when it didn’t open for her. I had a feeling she already knew it wouldn’t open for her anyway and decided not to even try and enter. 

When the defence at the camp questioned me about Crack-bones party, I gave them quick but reassuring answers because I had other things I wanted to do now; but there wasn’t anything to worry about so they needn’t to followed or worry. Upon exiting the camp, Miralba stood waiting for me in her naked form.

“Have you found the Ziggurat?” Miralba asked. Even though this was a sensitive mission she didn’t sound hurried or even impatient, but the opposite. After telling her where it is located and that my group is waiting for them right now, she informed me that we would have to meet up with the Huldra and my keeper to escort them the way. Not being able to shapeshift must suck but this is the golden opportunity I have been waiting for. A long walk with the famous Miralba and the Huldra. If I don’t take this chance to make a good impression and ask the questions, I have been longing to ask, I doubt I'll get another chance.

But first thing first I need to settle some things with Amanmaar. 

I haven’t seen Amanaar since a few days before the culling began and I don’t know what has happened to everyone, bar a few close friends, and maybe he knows what happened. I won’t have this being the first thing I say before the Huldra and Miralba though, first I introduce myself and tell them both I am a Blood Wader, my clan was Godinja and that I am a witch under Amanmaar while my teacher was a Blood Wader named Svannih. Naturally Yeleta knew that much about me from Amanmaar I guessed but, I wanted to see that same faint smile from Miralba when she first found out I was a Blood Wader of Godinja. 

However, making a fool of myself has to wait because I need to tell Amanmaar what happened and ask some questions. 

I begin by telling Amanmaar what happened while he was away: The meeting that turned into an ambush then turned into a massacre, then mass burnings. I tell him what happened from the morning till the first night I had to survive in the Davakar, about who I saw die without any warning, those who were burned and tortured, those who screamed for help that I couldn’t give, and the stupidly small group I was told to lead out while Svannih tried to help more. Amanmaar didn’t know Svannih well but he knew her well enough to care about what happened. I didn’t hold back when it came to Svannih and how she tried saving more than she already saved, about how she fought till the end defending those who couldn’t fight anymore and how I couldn’t describe what I felt when she was slain while I watched from afar. Svannih was the greatest woman I have ever met and I knew her better than some people could have ever done so I knew for a fact she wouldn’t regret dying like that, that she would've died fighting while bringing down those who killed her than run away; while people she knew and cared for were being slaughter for fanatical beliefs. It was at that point that I saw the truest shape of the woman who had trained me. A Blood Wader in her environment. Blades danced around her, arrows flew into the wrong targets, enemies turned against one another and body after body fell before, she was finally taken down. It made me proud to have seen her final moment and nobody can make her name less known for her final act was just that worthy of warrior. 

I tell Amanmaar of my plan for joining this group. I tell him that I will find something to end this little war between men, how I plan to find something in this place that will allow me to kill those responsible for the deaths of those I called friends, and the one that basically brought me up.

When I was finished, I could tell that Amanmaar was feeling my pain. He had lost his clan and all those who followed him to the people we are now calling our enemy. He however warns me about this vengeance plan of mine. First, he warns me about the power that vengeance can hold over people, witches have been lost to Wratha during their foolish plans to seek out vengeance. Witches who thought of nothing but revenge brought down by their own power, instead brought about a darker world from where they lost themselves. Amanmaar then reminds me that I must seek out a balance between Wyrtha and Wielda for that is the duty of all witches. So, I must always think about how my actions can affect this world and everything that I have been taught to protect, while achieving my revenge... I must survive to see the blood that has been spilt, repaid in some way so I will fight the urges to kill everything and keep aware that the balance cannot be tipped into Wratha that we all will pay instead of those murderers. 

Naturally Amanmaar understood my pain, he only asked that I help with the current situation and keep my duty in mind before acting foolishly. I agreed to wait for this pathetic phase to end before I sought out my revenge but who knows, I could always enjoy a year or two of adventuring before making those murders pay. Or when they begin to collapse, which one comes first I suppose. 

Amanmaar takes over at this point.

“No one survived that night Farina. You’re the first one I met from our tribe but I fear that no one will be seen, for the Oath have made more culling's since that day and our numbers have dwindled too few now.”

I already knew that this was the case however. I only saw one group leave the village and that was the same group who died around me. I don’t know why but I haven’t felt this happy since that same night. Here I was, with the famous Miralba, the survivor Amanmaar, and The Huldra Yeleta. There are other witches who would’ve survived the same fate as Svannih and there will be one thing for certain. The Sovreign Oath will come to an end. Either by the hands of their enemies or by the hands of those who have survived and have become more lethal than they could possibly imagine mystics being. 


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Re: Farina's Sketchbook
« Reply #10 on: May 26, 2020, 05:39:42 PM »

Farina’s Beginnings.

My life, so far, has been messy. The clan's folk are strict and deadly about their rules and traditions, but who are they to make judgement on me now? Being a witch has brought me respect, through fear and tradition they respect all witches, well they did respect us until they became deluded, so now, they will have to face us as warriors: they won’t ever forget why they feared us, not when they are faced with a witch filled with anger anyhow. 

I had always thought the worse thing to ever happen to me already happened, that I had my share of pain and suffering, and through the hardships I could live an easier, more peaceful life with my duties. But just as I have suffered now, I suffered in the past. Just as I am as powerful as I am now, there was a time when I was utterly weak and helpless to the world around me. Svannih would compare me as the adult I am now to how I was as a child, even as my memories became cloudier, she would remind me of my worse point, so I wouldn’t become that weak again. 

When I was a child, before Svannih, before witches and Orla, just a normal girl living in a remote village in the Godinja lands, my life revolved around my parents. I can’t even remember their names or their faces, Svannih never learned them to tell me either, I just remember two figures being there with me. Apparently both my parents were normal folks who lived their lives without causing anyone issues, were respected and liked by people. Children with healthy, living parents don’t become witches however.

Orphans and those who witches find interesting are taken into apprenticeships by the witches who find them, learn to become witches and, then live their lives according to the duty's witches have to follow. Yet here I am, Blood Wader, twenty-five, and a student under Svannih; at least I was.

Turns out that people don’t have control of their own lives, while having limited control of the lives of those around them. My parents had that control over me, so I suffered along with their choices. 

My father had committed a crime, both my mother and I had to pay the price with him. Svannih wouldn’t tell me the details, “Your father broke a taboo and was found guilty of the crime.”. Breaking a taboo isn't something somebody should think about doing let alone actually committing it. Taboos exist to warn and prevent people from making mistakes, they are there to protect us from the wrath of corruption, the wilds of the Davakar, and becoming a witch just makes it more apparent to why taboos shouldn’t be approached: let alone messed with by the common likes of men. Breaking a taboo is a serious crime indeed, one that can make everyone who cared for you, turn on you and either: hurt you, or forget about you. With my father, his punishment was public execution. My mother was exiled to a remote building on the edge of the Davakar and I was forced to stay with her: because of the crime my father had committed, my life would now be forfeit and I were to spend my remaining days in exile, either to die to the forest or through negligence.

There I spent a year of my life with my mother: as that should’ve been the case, but my mother wasn’t the same after the execution of father, and became more and more isolated with herself. The distance she would put between us was something I couldn’t grasp as a child; how could a mother basically ignore and forget her child? Naturally, now I understand what happened and why it happened, I've seen it develop within the families of others as I grew up, but it still hurts when I think of that vague figure of my mother. 

As time went on and the distance grew, I had no idea how to look after myself let alone my mother. Slowly I started getting skinnier and weaker, no matter how much I tried I couldn’t get mother to look after us both: hunger was nothing new to me, the people we had called friend wouldn’t help us, and that house, that prison of ours, would become our tomb. 

During my younger days however, a young witch had taken it upon herself to find someone she can call apprentice. Naturally she was searching for a child who had potential and was ideally orphaned. Having a child training under a witch is not something parents want to think about. It’s a brutal, hardship to train young witches, dangerous is an understatement, so orphaned children are easier to take in. No one would miss an orphan, well that’s the way I can see it now; it isn’t fair to the parents if their child was to die when someone without parents will do just as well. Luckily for me, this young witch’s path led through the same village I would’ve belonged to, if things hadn’t had gone the way they did, and upon learning about the mother and child living in the remote part of the forest, she decided to check if we were dead, I suppose. Honestly, I don’t care what her reasons were for coming to my tomb but for her own reasons; I am alive today. 

I remember how she walked right in, without any indication of manners, almost like she expected to see corpses. She just stood there, looking at me. Standing there with a bird resting on her shoulder. No words were exchanged, no comforting, she just walked straight into the room mother was in. I didn’t care for much back in those days, I had just accepted I will die there, in that room, so she could have just finished me off and I wouldn’t have minded. Instead, some words were softly being spoken in the same room that mother was in; but I couldn’t make anything out. The witch came out of the room and offered her hand out to me. The first act of kindness someone had shown to me in over a year and I was too shocked to actually take her hand, she knelt down and took my hands into hers and asked me only two questions. “What is your name child?”, to which I responded with “Farina”. My voice sounded like it belonged to a beast learning to talk, not the same voice I had remembered having a year ago. Her second question came as if she didn’t mind the way my voice had sounded. “Do you wish to leave this place?”. At first, I was puzzled. My first impulse was to grab her hand and never let go, and hope that it wasn’t a dream. When I began to think about it though, the less likely it seemed that someone would offer their hand to me. Law had been passed and I am exiled, who would dare counter that sentence? Fearing that this dream would end I decided to take her hand and see what happens. 

I was taken from the place I were to die in and realised that I was walking hand in hand with this person through the very same village that I was exiled from. This woman didn’t care about the people watching her, silently and subtly eyeing her as she basically paraded a child through the streets. Walking to the nearest trader she requested to be given a cloak in exchange for something in her hands. I've never seen someone act this way before, everyone somehow would do what she asked. Thinking about it now I know that they would’ve respected Svannih, while fearing her if she was to be insulted. 

Suddenly something was thrown over me and covered me. The cloak she traded for was wrapped around my tiny body. “Farina.” As my attention drew to the stranger, she began to speak, “You are to come with me and become my apprentice. If you pass the tests, you will be a witch and will follow the duties given to you. If you do not pass the tests then you may die during the training. If you do not want this then return to the edge of the forest. If not, follow me.”, she started walking away and time sped up. I didn’t want to go back to the forest, I didn’t want to be alone while my life extinguishes like a flame in the dark, so I did the one thing that made sense; I immediately jumped forward and followed the stranger. I couldn’t tell what she was doing as the hood of the cloak kept covering my face, no matter how many times I adjusted it, but she sounded gleeful. She introduced herself as Svannih, A Blood Wader of Godinja, and from the looks of her she wasn’t an elderly witch but a more youthful kind. From here on I would follow her everywhere she went, train day in and day out, and as I got older, she would treat me differently. More loving while still being hard on me during the training. It always reminded me about the good times with my family. Now though, those memoires are distant vague sensations. 

I am stronger now. I have more strength then I would've ever had, the respect of those around me and the confidence of those I follow; in my abilities. I would've died a long time ago if it wasn’t for Svannih and I still haven't thanked her enough. Even now, I won’t be able to thank her, and she will never be able to witness my achievements as the years come and go. If she was here, I'm certain she would be making me do another training session; I'd welcome that if it meant she was here with me. 


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Re: Farina's Sketchbook
« Reply #11 on: June 15, 2020, 09:05:43 PM »

Farina’s first duty as a witch.

I didn’t think I would end up here, the heart of Symbar. We witches are supposed to keep people out of the taboo sites... yet here I am. Accompanying a group of foolish adventures nonetheless, including two other witches, searching for the greatest taboo known to every living soul: The throne of thorns.
All the time we’ve spent here makes me feel reminiscent, dejected, to the point that tears threaten to flow uncontrollably. The taboo sites in my past were much, much more insignificant compared to what I'm seeing now, however, that is not a comfort. 
I remember how I would shadow Svannih as she would take me with her to various areas, that we witches have duties to protect. Not just for our own safety, but for the safety of those stupid enough to mess with something they cannot control. I couldn’t condemn a person to a fate worse than death by allowing them to be consumed by corruption, however, if not for Yagaba and Balon, I would’ve left this party of ours for dead long ago, before the undead Lords, or the beasts we have encountered.
The duty of all witches protecting taboo sites are the same. Remove the trespassers. Some can be reasoned with and they leave peacefully, this is easily done if the group either rightfully fears and respects the witches and their duties. However, there are some adventures who are so narrow minded that they will try and stand up to a witch to make their claim on the items held within. Of course, these groups either no longer exist or so few survive that they can’t continue. Never less, a witch will protect these sites, this means they will kill any who ignore the warnings and continue to risk the consequence of Wratha.
There was a day I remember well. Svannih had finally decided it was time for me to play an active part in the duties of a witch. She had instructed me to follow a group that seems to be traveling to a taboo area; either knowingly or accidently. I was to stop them before they got there and make them turn back, or kill them if they refused.
It was a small group. Seven Ambrians dressed in travel gear, armed with swords and bows. I followed them for the best part of a day in bird form, Orla lurking in the shadows behind, to limit our discoverability, until they made camp just a few hours before reaching the taboo site. In an attempt to not scare them, I instead gathered one of my arrows. Wrote a note warning them that they are heading towards a terrible place and that they need to remove themselves from the area or they will be removed. I then loosely attached it to the arrow, and fired it to the edge of the camp. Naturally they were upset about the sudden thump of an arrow being fired at them but after reading the letter they became almost hysterical. They then burned the letter without another word being said about it. I distinctly remember how carefree they were all acting, almost inviting me with their warm fire and mouth-watering food. They must've thought I was another adventurer trying to tempt them from their prize, elves would've killed them without warning. How can they not think a witch would follow them?
Their reaction made me uneasy so I stayed awake, watching, listening, and hoping they don’t do the very thing I fear they might do.
The morning came and with it, the camp had packed and started continuing their path towards the restricted area. Fearing they think it’s a contest between another group, I made my way to the area first. In hope I can maybe make one last attempt to make them see reason before I'll be forced to slaughter them all. Personally, I have nothing against random Ambrian groups that have done nothing to me or my beliefs, but if they continue like this, I wouldn’t deny that I didn’t want to test myself against them.
I believed this would end very badly so to prepare, I had Orla hide and was fully prepared to use any method I have against them.
They just stood before me. Shocked to see a witch before them. Clearly these Ambrians weren’t accustomed to the likes of me. They argued, shouted and demanded commands at me, even though they had no place to, when they began to rise to anger, I kept my calm demeanour. This seemingly freaked them out more... I could tell where this encounter was heading, I've seen it happen too many times shadowing Svannih on her duties.
I could see Orla shifting between the trees, getting closer and closer while the men continued to argue. When she was in position and I was ready, I demanded an answer from the group. “stay and face certain death, or leave safely. What is your answer?”. After a very slow change from puzzlement to rage, curses already had begun to rain down on them, some started bleeding from their eyes as they hunched over, one started attacking his own against his will. The ones that tried fleeing only saw a black figure before fangs had settled themselves on their throats. I distinctly remember how they tried coming after me, seeing me as just a mystic with no way to defend herself. Well they were wrong about that, clearly. I may not wield a sword or axe, but my own hands are just as deadly. It was a battle of attrition, in which they were losing. My wounds healed, the curses killing them faster with every action they took. Friends panicking as their own raised their swords against them, not knowing the reasoning behind this betrayal; would be the death of them it seems.
Soon only a single man remaining.
He stood there, looking around himself, almost lost in his own world. This I've only seen a handful of times. Someone broken, incapable of processing what's happening. I could feel sorry for this lone man, but this was his choice and now he is being dealt the consequence. I won’t tear him apart nor won’t I let his body be maimed. Instead I'll let him go quietly and quickly. I propose a choice to the man, he can choose to die by fighting or he can choose to simply give up. Yet no answer was given. He was utterly broken. I won’t pick up a sword nor will I allow him to live tormented. I simply walked up to him and delivered the finishing blow. Driving my own hand into his throat was the quickest death I could've offered the man.
As a warrior, I respected those that had the strength to face me but as a witch, I feel sorrow for the unnecessary killings. If only they had just walked away.
I don’t know much about the Ambrian culture, did they burn their dead or did they simply bury them? Matters not now. This is the Davakar, and this a taboo site, I can't bury them here. Moving them will take some time and the sound of fighting could’ve attracted anything for all I knew, so I gathered their weapons and wrapped them onto Orla. The bodies would take time to burn but that is all I can do for them.
I can’t remember what I did and I can't remember if I ever went back to that area after that day, first time doing my duty and I simply can't remember.
« Last Edit: June 19, 2020, 07:13:11 PM by Will_you_please »


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Re: Farina's Sketchbook
« Reply #12 on: July 12, 2020, 09:22:08 PM »

Fofar the Destroyer

A blackened wing. That is all that it took. For the palace to be collapsed once again. The burning roots and the cries of battle woke the beast up from its slumber. It's hard to imagine, a dragon that fell during the battle of Symbar, blighted from the power node, flying over the mountains. 

All the years I've been fighting, and all the battles I've fought meant nothing when in the presence of what used to be known as Fofar, the destroyer. A monster can be killed, a man even easier still, even blighted creatures can be put down; but that thing... that thing is beyond us all. It took an army to bring it down and an army is not what we have. If we had to fight that thing, we would all surely perish just as it slaughtered the Oath and Templars. 

An entire palace full of soldiers broken and blighted like they were ants, fortifications demolished as if they were twigs under its foot, and we were fortunate to have not been noticed. 

A blackened wing.

That is all that it took.

Witnessing something you cannot fight, let alone win against, changes even the strongest of warriors; turning them from fighter to child in a blink of an eye.