Welcome Guest [Log In] [Register]
Welcome to Imythess, the border between dreams and reality. We hope you enjoy your visit.

Imythess is a creative writing board where you narrate the story of a character in the medieval land of Imythess, on the planet Chaon. Each topic is an opportunity for your character to interact with the world and its peoples by cooperatively writing pieces of a story with other members, one post at a time. We call this role-playing, because you assume the identity of your character as if it were your own.

In order to play, you must register an account for each character you would like to write about, and begin their tale by filling out their basic profile information: Race (human, elf, demon, etc.), class (warrior, mage, etc.), physical appearance, and any other personal details you would like to describe. You are also encouraged to come up with some background history information for what your character's life has been like up to the point at which their story in Imythess begins.

There is no approval process or application required to join, so long as you follow the rules then you are free to write whatever character details you choose. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free.


Create a character now!


If you're already a member, you can log into your account below:


Username:   Password:
Reply
A Bitter Taste [P]; {Lyssia & Arma}
Topic Started: Sat Sep 12, 2015 8:41 pm (1,190 Views)
Armorhide
Member Avatar


His head turned at her words. His mind raced, his black helmet in his hands, polished thoroughly, he put it on quickly, sliding the adamantine into place. He nodded, "Yeh." He had wished she had not seen him... people that see him usually think he was less intimidating. He went about putting his armor on, strapping on pieces of armor, tightening buckles. After his gloves and arm armor was on, he motioned farther down the hall, made small scrubbing motions, and pointed at some of the salve he could see, hoping to remind her to clean herself of the salve.

His hands fumbled with a buckle, "Mrgh." He wished he had a squire, dressing himself in armor was a pain, possible, but a pain. If she went to take care of her bathing needs, Arma would finish getting his armor on and write a few lines in his journal. If she stayed he would just write his questions first before continuing to put on his armor. The first question was, 'How are you feeling?' after that only two more remained, the second question was, 'How far do you wish to travel with me.' The last question was a simple, 'How will you fair once we part ways?' He was worried about her. She didn't seem to have most of the skills of a normal person, as royalty she probably had never done a physically hard day's work. He might have to give her even more gold just to make sure she wouldn't starve again.
Offline Profile Quote To Top
 
Lyssia
Member Avatar


She watched with a peculiar, intent glint in her eyes as he quickly donned his armor - as if, for some reason, he found himself vulnerable without its patched about his body, shielding him in a purely psycholigical way from the world around him. Lyssia wondered, not for the first time, if this was how the so-called High Humans all were. Somehow, though, she doubted it. A people that took their pleasure where they wished, and struck down those who resisted, those who were weaker for the simple fact that they were weaker, would not behave so. What armor need they, those supposedly mighty and stalwart men and women who could act as judge, jury, and executioner on the barest whim?

There was no answer. She acknowledged what passed for words from this man with a bare inclination of her head, and shrugged. Something of the hauteur she might once have grown into was still evident in her demeanor, though admittedly softened by the only person to speak up in her defense so far. I will deal with my ablutions later. I wished merely to look in upon you before I went about that. To assure to some hidden part of her, some deeply held portion of her soul, that the man had not simply left her to her plight in the night. Something she could not blame him for - she was, after all, simply another stranger in a land of strangers.

The journal was thrust into her hands before he resumed settling his armor about his person. She read his words, and then looked up at him. Her expression was unreadable.

I...do not know. I know nothing of this land. I don't even know where I am, let alone where home might be. Yes, I know you have intimated that Cascadia - where ever and whatever that is - might be a place to begin a search. As for fare...

She had no answer to that.
Offline Profile Quote To Top
 
Armorhide
Member Avatar


Arma buckled the last buckle, tightened the last strap, and donned his cape. What originally had the look of a beautiful young man, now had the look of a fierce Black Knight, tall, intimidating, silent. He packed up his things as he thought about all the possible things she could do to get money... if she was royalty she had higher learning, but the question is what did they teach her in her foreign country and how could she use it to her advantage. Arma put his mace on his hip and slid his bag over his shoulder, holding onto his shield with his left hand, the bag in his right.

Once he had his journal back, he dropped his bag and wrote in it, 'I will wait downstairs for you along with breakfast. I will give you what I can, but once you are on your own, you will need to work. Most busy inns would hire you as a serving girl or dishwasher. I know it will be insulting for royalty, but in this country, in this world, it is best to do whatever is necessary to live, as I am sure you know, we foreigners do what is needed, but not always what we want to do.'

With that he let her read it before putting his journal and pen back in his bag, taking it up again so he could go downstairs and order breakfast.
Offline Profile Quote To Top
 
Lyssia
Member Avatar


The concept of working for coin was foreign to her, except in the most conceptual of ways. He was right, though - she didn't relish the idea of having to work for coin, regardless that that coin was for her continued survival. Such was not how she had been raised - the idea of taxes was more familiar to her. Taxes, intrigue, basic military education, a myriad other subjects that pertained to what would be, in essence, her job one day.

Of more domestic tasks, she knew little.

I will be along shortly. She replied, and then turned and left the room to bathe. She had not truly remarked on his cuteness for simple fact that she had little interest in that, as yet. If she had seen him a decade from now, well, then, that might have been a slightly different story.

A time later, hair still damp and smelling faintly of soap, she descended the stairs into the common room. There were relatively few people present this early in the day - the bulk of those who frequented this place would arrive in the late afternoon, once their daily work was done. For now, there was but Armadura, and perhaps three or four others, eating their breakfast in relative silence.

:yssia approached Aramdura's table, and took a seat. Breakfast turned out to be eggs, ham (likely left over from the night before), and dark, rich bread that was still warm from the oven. Unlike the night before, Lyssia ate with a ravenous hunger, diving into her meal as i it might be the last she ever ate. The day before, her guts had been shrunken and upset at being forced to contend with so much food after so long without. Now, stretched, she was capable of eating quite a bit more. She might have held to some etiquette were the need not so pressing.

She was prepared to ask more questions of the stranger, of Armadura, when the door to the common room slammed open, rebounding off the wall. The sweet scent of fresh air, perfumed with the earthy scent of the woodlands that surrounded this village, was suddenly smirched by the metallic odor of blood, and less pleasant smells besides. Lyssia turned, as did the others present, to watch a man stagger through the door, one arm dangling uselessly, sheathed in blood and dripping. Blood was splattered on his face, and darkened the leather around his left side. He managed to make it three more steps before his legs gave way, and then he fell forward, landing with a hard thud.

An alarmed cry rose from one of the other tables, and a woman rose and rushed over, speaking too quickly for Lyssia to understand. There was a slight difference in language between here and home, though not normally enough to cause a problem...except in straitened situations like this.

Lyssia was on her feet before she even realized it, and rushed across the room to the fallen man's side. She got down on her hands and knees, and pushed the woman aside rudely - earning a shove in return, which she ignored. Fire flooding through her blood, ice through her flesh, she grasped the injured arm and wove a tapestry of sorcery around the man and his injuries, delving deep into the torn and lacerated limbs. Power flooded through her, though in truth it was not much. Enough, perhaps, to prevent the man from dying immediately, buying time for someone else to properly heal the man.

A convulsion wracked his frame as his wounds knitted, the bleeding slowing and then reluctantly stopping. What has happened? Who did this to this man? Her words were imperious, but such was the state of mind in the room that none called her down for it. Which was a blessing, for she would have flayed them with her tongue.

"Robbers on the Eastern road, healer. Ambushed our caravan, captured a couple of...of my charges, took everything of value and then slayed all of us." The voice belonged to another man, this one bulkier and better armed than the one laying on the floor, unconscious from the trauam of healing. "Or at least, so they think. I could use your touch, girl. Now."

She looekd upon him, large and intimidating in a manner similar to Armadura. He had a hand pressed to the side of his head which was, she noted, holding a large flap of scalp that included his ear in place.
Offline Profile Quote To Top
 
Armorhide
Member Avatar


Arma heard the cries and stood up, placing the shield on his left arm. When the man came in, Arma frowned, there was no way he could have made it back alone. That was when the second man came in and Lyssia healed the first man. Arma walked to Lyssia, placing an armored hand on her shoulder and nodded towards the man.

The innkeeper frowned, "We need to get someone to kill those bandits, the east road is our best bet for trading with the elves. But who coul-"

Arma began walking towards the door as he said, "Right." He slowly took out his mace and began his march towards the east road. His dull gold eyes were now alive, they resembled molten gold now, hot and angry, burning with the light of Justice.
Offline Profile Quote To Top
 
Lyssia
Member Avatar


She stood slowly. The man she had healed was unconscious, now - likely a result of her healing and the trauam it had caused. She was not, as had been pointed out before, particularly powerful among her people. But, with the dull, used-up feeling of those of this world, she imagined she was probably better than anything else they had ready to hand.

She approached the other man, who was having a hard time keeping to his feet, ignoring Armadura's hand on her shoulder. She approached, and looked into the man's eyes - and was shocked at the clear, cold light gleaming therein. "If you would, go easy on me, witch. It has been a trying enough day."

There is no way to mitigate the shock of healing, alas. Especially not by one as weak as myself. The admission stung, truth to tell...but truth was far morei mportant, right then. At a curt nod, she laid her hands upon him, and repeated the process she had already enacted upon the fallen man. The other fellow stiffened as the threads of sorcery wove through his flesh, as the flesh on his head knitted at least enough to be getting along with. With a gusting breath out, he staggered against the door frame.

That is all I can do, I am afraid. She took her hands off of his arms, and wiped a bead of sweat from her brow. The the most part, the other patrons of this wayward inn stared at her as if they had never seen her before. The revelation of magical power, perhaps? She did not know, could not know with so much of this part of the world unknown to her, its ways and customs and peoples mysterious to her. You said you were beset? Can you tell me more?

The man nodded, skin ashen pale. The trauma of that forced healing was most assuredly making itself felt now, though she could but admire the fortitude that allowed him to remain standing. "Aye, I can, lady. We were3 about three miles, maybe for to the east of here. Just a caravan carrying the usual supplies and sundries, and escorting people from one village to the next. Accursed thieves! They've made their nest in this forest, and all that has ever been done to root them out has been in futility. This particular band was a storng one - fifteen or twenty men. And they were not the usual sort." He paused, and straightened with a visible effort. "By the way, my name is Eland. Merchant guard extraordinaire, if you can believe that."

What do you mean, they were not the usual sort? Not that she had any idea what the usual sort were to begin with. But any information might prove helpful.

He paused, and shook his head. "Trained. These are no simple highwayman, they have had formal military training at some time. Deserters, perhaps? I can not say. They overran my squad pretty quickly, took what goods there were that were worth anything, and captured a couple of children we were escorting. Likely for ransom - they are a local nobleman's get." He eyed her again, as if appraising her for a third time - as if he was suddenly disbelieving his first and second assessment. "You look no older than my daughter, but...you have a certain poise to you, girl. Certainly, this does not match your age or your appearance."

She colored at that level of scrutiny and shook her head. I am but a child, Eland. I am likely the same age as your daughter - is she in her thirties? No matter. Another decade and a half and I will attain my majority, then. His unreadable expression was disconcerting. In any case, I must catch up to that Knight. He needs to know what he is facing.

There was a momentary pause, and then the man Eland shook his head. Touching his hip, as if to reassure himself that a weapon still hung there, he grimaced. "I will accompany you, girl. Keeper! See to my man. I will cover any cost when I come back." If I come back, he amended silently in his head.

Turning, hurrying out the door - bare feet slapping on the hard ground - she rushed after Aramadura, an unexpected ally in tow.
Offline Profile Quote To Top
 
Armorhide
Member Avatar


Arma was down the road quite a bit, kicking up a furious jog, shield and mace in hand. That was when he heard the swifter footfalls behind him. He turned to see Lyssia and the recently healed man running to catch up to him. He slowed down and waited for them before pointing back the way they had come with his mace, only grunting out, "Mrgh."

He tapped his foot, he listened to the man tell him that it was to dangerous to go alone, but Arma's armor would easily keep him safe, these two would be the ones in danger. Arma pointed back at the village, only to hear the subtle 'twang' of a crossbow. He spun around, raising his shield to the side to defend Lyssia and standing in front of the man to guard him. Three bolts fell, two hitting Arma square in the chest, one hitting the shield. The bolts clattered to the ground and Arma grimaced.

The bandits wouldn't have sent men here unless they expected retaliation... even if it was just a town guard or two, a few bolts would send them running, they were not expecting to find a man in adamantine armor stomping around. Arma knew he would need to give chase now, he could not stop the two from following, dealing out justice was more important. He nodded to the two, "Okay." And began to walk towards where the bandits had fired their bolts, if they rushed to fast perhaps they could follow a trail directly into the enemy camp.
Offline Profile Quote To Top
 
Lyssia
Member Avatar


Her eyes were like chips of ice, glittering malevolently at the Black Knight without the faintest trace of fear or uneasiness. He did not, she knew, have the power or the authority to compel her to do...well, to do anything. She was of the Royal line, after all - and with that noble heritage came an assortment of entitlements, not least of which was the power of her own authority, unassailable except by others within the Court. The Court was dead, now - her family, councilors, military leaders. All gone. The ease with which they had been...removed...did not cross her mind, or that royal blood was as easily shed as that of the common man. Had not her own family perished to such?

Alas, hers was the armor of youth, of inexperience and if not innocence, then naivety.

She opened her mouth to voice her protest and adamant refusal to follow orders from him - saviour he might be, at the moment, but her guardian he was not, at least not in the full legal implication of the term. She did not get a chance. Crossbows, unseen in the woods, bucked - the loud, heavy sound echoing through the mostly silent woods. The clang and clatter of the quarrels striking armor and falling short rang out like punctuation to the adamantine-encased warrior's single word, and more precisely his unspoken intent.

Lyssia blinked. One of those had been meant for her. It was not her first brush with an attempt on her life, but the manner of it - the near casual nature of some common trash deciding her life was not worth anything at all, nearly stunned her. Nearly. Her own natural inclinations overruled caution, alas, and she found herself wordlessly following in the wake of the Knight, casting a glance at the grizzled warrior she had healed back in the village. His face was...stony, closed. As if examining some dark truth within himself and not liking much of what he was seeing.

And still, she remained silent, trusting in the armor of youth that was without equal.




This was not, strictly speaking, going according to any plan they had.

The three advance scouts moved through the woods as if ghosts, as quickly as they could without abandoning caution. That they left a trail that could be followed was doubtless, though in truth they were nto overly concerned. Three people - only three, when they numbered twenty four. The fact that one of them wore heavy armor and carried themselves like a Knight was immaterial - they could deal with him. They had people who were specially designated to deal with targets like him, aft6er all. Former Istani military, a whole squad that had deserted together. Ethnicity had a a good part in their defection - they despised the Sultanate, despised the pogroms waged against the indigenous peoples.

Well, they had had it. They did not exactly enjoy the road they walked - highwayman, of all things! - but the ransoms they exacted would allow them to re-equip, to bring in more help. To cast the elements of the Istani Empire back from the desert fastness, and reclaim what their forefathers and their fathers before them had once owned.

All of that, though, did not matter in the face of this. For now, they needed to speak with the Sergeant. After, there would be blood.

Probably.
Offline Profile Quote To Top
 
Armorhide
Member Avatar


The trail wasn't hard to follow, their new mercenary friend had found it and showed them where to go. Every once in a while they ran into a trap... well, Arma ran into a trap. The bear trap had snapped on his adamantine clad leg, breaking it's teeth. Arma pried the thing off his leg, only for a few minutes later a snare trap wrapped around his leg, but the weight of his armor saved him. He waited for the mercenary to cut the rope and nodded his thanks to him. The few traps they encountered for a while all met the same fates, either bouncing harmlessly off his armor or wrapping around him without the strength to send him flying.

Arma thought they were probably traps used by hunters... most likely found and re-purposed by the bandits as scattered defenses and for their own hunting pleasure. Arma kept his shield ready as he walked forward, he turned to his allies, he was sweating in this armor... he needed a moment for rest. He motioned for them to sit down, he himself let himself lean against a tree, his breathing deep, he was going to try and recover as quickly as possible.
Offline Profile Quote To Top
 
1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous)
ZetaBoards - Free Forum Hosting
Fully Featured & Customizable Free Forums
« Previous Topic · Kingdom of Norwood · Next Topic »
Reply

Top RP SitesVote for Imythess at Top Site List Planet
Top Site Lists
Misty Woods created by Helena & Cory of ZNR