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Glittering Crusade

Started by Camrie, December 06, 2016, 11:02:47 PM

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Camrie

Warm, richly scented air drifted through his nostrils as he ran, four powerful legs working to propel him across the land, lungs working fast. On his furred, high back, a dark shape clung, trying not to fall off as the rough but racing gait of the huge black warg carried the duo into the woods of The Meeting Place. Apt, as somewhere here was the predetermined place that Caderin would meet the prince of the Doriathim people. Stunning violet and crimson eyes rested on a hideous canine face- but it was not his true form. As the scents drifted into his skilled sinuses, he recognized the location, for he had come here to scout it out before suggesting it to the other man via letter. He skidded to a halt, dirt spraying in an arc. Deep inky black fur rippled and disappeared into wisps of pitch dark smoke, vanishing to reveal the figure of a humanoid man brushing himself off in front of a large landmark rock. He straightened the collar of his mercenary style coat, adjusting the strap of the great obsidian sword slung across his body. The small creature now squatted on his left shoulder, creepy pointed smile fixed in place as wide blue eyes examined everything with scrutiny.
"Kind of a bright place, isn't it?"
The phouka observed gruffly, lifting a shadowy paw to shield his eyes from the sun. Mythranys preferred the night. As did Cade, but it was of no importance now. Frowning at the pressure of the sinister creature on his bad shoulder, he reached up a calloused hand and swatted the beast away impatiently.
"It doesn't matter. We are here for a noble purpose. Now get off me- you know that's not the good side."

The creature just laughed and evaporated into a cloud of smoke, appearing a few yards away. Cade shook his head and leaned back against the giant stone, crossing a leg over his other knee and rubbing his bad shoulder carefully. It was not an extensive injury at all- but running like that for so long, even in another form, was enough to strain the old wound. But the pain passed as quickly as it came, and he was in top shape once more. Myth toyed with the ruby on his leather collar, muttering to himself. He was not fond of people, and he viewed this whole thing as unnecessary. But Cade knew that it was, and luckily, he didn't have to listen to a small, obnoxious fae. He waited with endless patience for the other man to arrive, ready to meet the face behind the letters that had been exchanged for the better part of the last few weeks. He occupied himself by scenting the air, picking out the different odors of leaves and grass and water with his keen nose. The phouka made a grunting noise in his throat, and flopped down in the grass beneath the many trees.
"Luckily not all the Eloquir are morons, or your people would have died out long ago."
He mumbled grouchily, large ears flattening. Cade laughed low, lopsided grin flashing long, dog-like canines.
"I don't need your approval, Myth. I can still turn you into a hat."
That shut him up. He stretched his arms, gazing around at the midday atmosphere with trepidation. This quest would be interesting, to say the least. He wondered what Nasrin had to say about the hole matter.




joylss

faux pas is the folly of mankind when the forlorn breeze of winter's bane takes a saunter amid dying lands, avow the omit of vacuous lords whom led their men into holocaust, to blood and death and to a war waged by a constituent of their own. An allegiance is the utmost courtesy one should offer upon the proposition of bridging warrant peace between distant lands, and allured his senses truly this man did so cleverly. In spite of  his presumptuous father's enmity, Nasrin is not here to flaunt the name of his mother Princess Laila, nor seek to repulse what Eloquir deems their now fallen prince. Instead, shower his faith and wisdom in silvery dust, for alas! The Doriathim prince's eagerness is a metaphor to misjudge his zeal to meet the man on the other side of transgress letters.


For since a twelvemonth, deep in the night does he write to Caderin quietly, and oft sundered from the witness of his grandfather, for never will he abide to his grandson lending alms to the treacherous son of his allied friend. However, a seeker of escapades is the prince of Doriaty! And moreso should the journeying quest attest the genuinity of a noble knight in shining armour, if it means he may participate in the making of an altruistic country, then forsake all froth of dust and sand he shall.


Ruptured through branches and leaf is a supple voice orated by the flick of lissome tongue, heavily bewitched by leaden accent of Eloquirian voice. Let not the facade of a captivating and regal-statured young man mislead your thoughts to project a gullible young prince, instead, Nasrin acknowledges pervasively the claim of pitted-hands in crimson red, adjudged by the native individuals of his own lands.


"Ubiquitous tales of his Highness speaks blatantly of a man murdered in cold blood. Shall these tales prove faux in my manner then, I shall acclaim you are indeed a man of definite charm and grace." setting forth a finesse of foot, Nasrin deploys his naturally overt disposition as he makes his first choice of relevance. Accompanied by naught but a sovereign face of boyish glamour, he flourishes an arm in attempt to offer his for a shake. "I shall be eternally grateful you entrust in my wish to come here solely at the strength of my words alone, in recompense to your faith, I assure you there is none in my company but me alone."

Camrie

Alone they weren't for long, for soon the scent of the prince wafted to his sensitive nose, alerting the Eloquir heir that the man with whom he had been corresponding had arrived. The man, around the same age as himself, it seemed, appeared promptly, and on time. Swarthed in a robe of white and gold, with blue peeking from beneath, the Doriathim was an interesting character, to be sure. His long, fair hair fell over part of his face, concealing one eye from view. He appeared open and polite, which Cade respected. He was taller than the other heir by about two feet, but his people were oft taller than average. The offered hand was given with regal words, and Cade swept his body into a bow, before straightening and grasping the man's hand with firm acknowledgment. His voice, when he spoke, was even and lilting, with his odd Eloquir accent flourishing his speech.
"And I thank you for meeting me, Your Grace. Not many would have done the same. You are considerate in your compliment- I assure you that the charge of murder on my name is a falsehood."
He smiled to belie the pain of remembrance, memories of that day flashing in his eyes. Blood, pain, and death permeated the very ground in that courtyard. It was not a day that he would easily forget. He hid the sadness from sight, instead flashing his pointed canines in an amiable grin.

Myth made a nose in his throat, becoming a cloud of smoke and drifting into a nearby tree. Cade raised an eyebrow at the Phouka, disappointed by his performance. He looked back at Nasrin with an apologetic shrug.
"I am unaccompanied as well, unless you count this rude creature. Mythranys is but a familiar and a friend, and I vow he shall be on his best behavior during our quest."
His violet and blood colored eyes assessed, calculated, planned. He was excited for this crusade of theirs- not only would he cement allegiance with the prince, he would also get to have some fun. it had been a while since he had last had a good fight. He wasn't a carnage-seeker, but any good swordsman needs practice to keep him sharp. He uncrossed his legs, standing tall as he turned his gaze from the ivory prince to the woods, in the direction that they would soon be venturing. He wondered what joys and hardships lay ahead. No matter the path their adventure took, he wagered it would be one to remember.

joylss



Prying memories seemed to bedevil the innocence of reticent face, saddening him still, the doleful jibe of reminiscent past nevertheless proves barbed and jolting to tear. As twinge makes itself a deplorable guest upon the mention of pitfall, fresh and rancorous to the Eloquirian prince. Never would Narsin impose the deigning manner to inflict worrying gest upon a noble friend, nor saunter his exploit of unyielding wits. Already does he see a worthy monarchy sitting within wells of coruscating violets, a man who would master the regal touch of bureaucratic rule.


❝ Must you be so modest, friend? ❞ words conjured unguarded, as Nasrin employs a diplomatic smile of imponderable gesture. why has Eloquir every made known to acknowledge such aristocratic prince a feeble enemy? Unfortunately, none of the Eloquiri save for Caderin is he well acquainted with; nonetheless, however,  their mutually concurred mission as of now shall rectify that in persuasion of its success almost immediately!  ❝ Months have pass since our first interchange of letters, to be able to meet in coincide appearance is, must I say----rather flattering to speak. Certainly, I trust you are true of words. Eloquirian verdicts have misjudged you. ❞


Pitted against the creature's remark, no offense shall be ushered by the impish Phouka. Instead, a subtle chortle would depart through the blond's lips, ensued by a warranting gesture. ❝ Your opinions shall be well cherished, Mythranys! However, I must oblige to your behest, no harm shall come to this man while I am within the premise. For airheaded and lofty is the conception of him I share with you. Therefore, rest assured he will not die before the purpose of this quest is achieved! ❞

( OOC: Nasrin is taking sides with the phouka LOL, dont be mad /w him, Cade.)

Camrie

The Fallen Prince observes the other with appraising light in his keen, vibrant gaze, finding worth in the bearing of the other man, his speech, his personality. Months of letters could not describe a man's character with any degree of accuracy; but here, as they stood before one another for the first time, Cade saw someone whom he could respect. He saw someone that could be a valued friend and ally. The melodic regality of words continued, acceptance and high esteem bestowing on the Eloquir's soul a feeling of pleasant surprise and gratefulness. A low chuckle escaped his lips, hand coming up to adjust his sword strap, fixing his collar and scratching his neck. He didn't often get to speak to people, and being treated as a good companion was something that astounded him. He met the Ivory Prince's exposed eye with an expression of thanks.
"You are kind to say so. I, in turn, am also flattered that you deigned to relinquish your trust to me. It is an honor to meet in person, after so long with letters as our only correspondence."
He was in truth glad that they could come together like this, for being in the company of only the surly Phouka for so long was tiring. Their quest was one he had looked forward to for a long while, ever since they had decided it would happen.

The other man's reaction to the gruff demeanor of Myth made him laugh.
"Alas," he lamented jokingly, hand over his heart as if wounded. "It seems I am outmatched! Betrayed by those who pretended friendship!"
He chuckled throatily, then lifted his free hand to beckon the small beast closer.
"Mythran, calm your temper- His Highness agrees with your insults- come down, lest he think us rude."
The shadowy wisps that constantly curled from the dark Phouka's body intensified as he growled moodily, upset at being called out for his behaviour. His slit pupils dilated, and he hissed, but appeared dutifully on Cade's bad shoulder out of spite, making the Fallen Prince wince from the weight that aggravated his sore wound, still tense from running. The lightless shadow grinned, revealing his terrifying cheshire smile, knowing he caused him a twinge. But he was not evil, so he quickly switched to his other shoulder, cocking his head at Nasrin with his huge ears perking, ruby glinting on his collar.
"Yeah, don't let 'im tell you he's smart- actually, he's an idiot."
The mischievous fae said, cackling and grinning. His long tail wound around Cade's head just to annoy him, catlike form encased in shadows.

joylss

Within remarks enunciated unkindly through the Phouka's lips, a lithesome worry lay hidden under prosaic insults meant solely for the well-being of his friend. This, perhaps in eyes of keener observants such as Nasrin himself, is perceptibly palpable. As dainty fingers seek to grip his thoughts for a decorous yet spirited farewell, long before parting words would make their claim, the highly-cultured mouth has already deport itself through the lissome tongue as easily as the finesse of foot upon pliable grass:

❝ If you would willingly avow your loyalty and come along, Mythranys, then there is naught I can do to hinder you, nor will I invoke you as a hassle of this perilous journey. I do not believe you are a folk of mindlessly persuasion as the myths claim to be, so, do not delay yourself for my sake!

Gentleness amasses within this firm and unyielding tone, as Nasrin exposes his thoughts fervently to the phouka. Courting congenial allies may suffix a significant step closer towards the union of both Doriaty and  Eloquir. For fostering the deposition of kingship within Cade is unlike his unembellished, incongruent father. Shall the day come that this man sits atop the throne of Eloquiri, then blessed may commence within the directive political rule of its kingdom.


A moment is always fleeting, but when conjured to await the phouka of his decisioning from a man whose's already expectant of his answer is irksome, galling itches drawings nigh beneath his skin, as Nasrin makes his impeccable speech ❝ Well, what says you, Phouka of Caderin? ❞  No reason shall immerse though volatile cajole to veer him from tagging along, as one thought is certain, that both phouka and blonde prince is to share: this blithesome quest yet professes of honourable discharge shall prove no easy task for two man alone.



Camrie

Phrases fell like jewels from the gilded prince's lips as he addressed the dark creature with respectful insistence. The Phouka narrowed his huge eyes at the man before them, vast ears twitching to lie back against his wispy, silken neck. His winding tail drew away from Cade's head, and unseen claws worked to grasp the material of his coat as he leaned forward, looking the blond over with attentive wariness. He spoke freely, but with an almost imperceptible impatience. It was clear he hoped for them all to be on the best of terms so they might begin their quest with all due haste. The small fae was no more than a vaguely feline shadow, no features discernable anywhere on his body save for his eyes and his eerie smiling mouth. He was untouchable, for was such a shadow not immaterial? But despite this universal fact, his weight was felt by the man whose shoulder on which he rested, his body warm only to the Fallen Prince. It was as if Mythranys had been created only for him, touchable only by his hands, feelable only by his skin. Gleaming fangs like miniscule daggers worked in his jaw as he looked into the depths of Nasrin's eyes, searching for the trustworthy heir to the Doriaty throne that his master seemed to see within. For he was a suspicious beast, and very protective of his friend.  His slitted eyes grew decisive and stony, and his ebony head gave a small nod.
"Aye, Princeling, I'll accompany you- Somebody has to watch this fool's blind spot."
He said firmly, nipping with razor teeth at Cade's hand when the Eloquir playfully batted him away.

Caderin smiled, amusement and fondness for the rude, cranky animal foremost on his face. He tilted his scarred jaw to regard the Phouka as he wiped the blood from the bites on his black canvas mercenary coat. It might seem vicious and odd, but the bond between the Fallen Prince and his surly fae ran deeper than blood. He was used to such displays of brotherly affection. While anyone else's hand would simply pass right through Mythran's body as if he were not even there, when Cade reached up to scratch the little beast's neck, it met with soft, unseen fur. A sound suspiciously like a purr resonated through the Phouka's body, but he quickly pulled away, too proud to allow himself to be stroked like some kitten.The Eloquir smiled knowingly and turned his attention back to the other prince with a grin, violet and crimson eyes alight with quiet mirth.
"It seems we have ourselves a band, lord Nasrin. I congratulate you on your ability to win him over, especially when his mind is made up- he's been known to rip into people without hearing them out."
He winked outrageously, making it impossible to tell if he was joking or not. The fae had uncanny instincts, and detecting lies and subterfuge was something he was quite skilled at. Cade was glad that the Ivory prince was being truthful; if he had been lying, Myth would have attacked him without warning.
"When shall we begin? I also meant to ask you- how did you travel here? If you walked, then I could offer transport to the location of our quest, should you so desire. I would not want you to be exhausted from walking before our crusade even began."
He offered with only polite cordiality in his gaze. He was totally genuine in his words- he had been known to offer transportation in the past. There had even been occasions where he had moved injured from one place to another.

joylss

As he breathe and watches, the Doriathim Prince must enviably submit to envious discontent, the fostering kinship between interchange of species must ultimately demand an impressive caliber. As if entirely devoted to Caderin, Mythranys is unlike the pompous, avaricious phouka of fae folk that is beheld within literature and books. Instead, only deployment of genuine solicitude to the welfare of the other does he perceives in these twain folks.

❝ The chivalry of Doriaty does not promote the use of chariots, so even as Prince, I play no part in brandishing luxurious privileges. I came on a wayward journey, to speak, but walking does not tire me often. However, I am not blind to your welfare, your Highness, and I hope you will not consign to stubbornness as well. Your gesture has already offered a betoken of your impediment , incompetent shoulder, so it is you who must rest!


Thoughts bespoken through the dulcet tone of voice, Nasrin is shackled to the guilt of imposing a wounded man to evince his lordly just of kingship when falling handicapped to the remnant of a foregoing injury. Certainly, he does not debase Cade for a man who would harness the excuse of an incapacitated shoulder and wrought justification, but similarly, he would not maltreat his soon-to-be political ally and friend to be exposed to worldly toil for his sake. ❝ Your strength is best procured during our escapade, my friend. I do not doubt your ability to rival decent magic, but comparably, I wish not for you to flaunt your strength on such nonessential tasks when it is best whetted to far greater conquests. I believe the journey to the Niahi Woods need only achievable on horseback within half a day or less! The Blessing of Times is on our side, therefore, shall we not utilize all the time on our hands? ❞

Camrie

His offer declined in chivalrous tones, Caderin nods slowly in acknowledgement of Nasrin's choice.
"If you desire it so, my friend. Though it would not tax my old wound overmuch, no matter the mode of transport I choose- I would recover with all haste, whether I carried you there on swift wings and racing paws or pulled you through the shadows to our goal."
He told him with a rueful smile, making sure the strap on his obsidian sword was well tightened across his chest. Cade had always reviled being treated as an invalid, but he knew that the Ivory Prince's motives were purely in his best interest. His wild black hair rustled in the light breeze, and he glanced at the skies to determine the time, violet-red depths of his eyes shifting and dancing with emotions. He was excited for the coming quest, and for the chance to grow a kinship between himself and the Doriaty Prince. He was one with an unfortunate lack of friends, and the prospect of having one that would also serve as an ally was tantalizing and bolstering. While he wished to be on the road as soon as they were able, he would follow the wishes of Nasrin out of respect for the other man. If he declined his aid in transport, then Cade in would strive to keep that in mind.

However, the prospect of riding a horse for that long made not only the Fallen Prince cringe, but the Phouka as well. Mythranys scowled, pulling at his tail with jittery energy. He said nothing, no doubt with a lot of effort on his part, but his catlike body was tense beneath its cloud of wisping shadows. Cade noticed, and his face went taut with apology. He scratched his neck, looking away into the brush.
"I believe I should warn you, however, that horses... Well, it would be best to say that they dislike us. Creatures of shadow and mystery such as myself and Mythran are often a source of fright for most prey animals. While I would be pleased to see you resting on horseback rather than walking the distance, I will not be riding one, myself. I hope you will permit me the use of my own personal type of land travel, remaining at your side for the entirety, of course."
He said, entrusting that the Prince would not force him to ride one of those equines. What he did not tell Nasrin was that whenever a horse or similar beast of burden caught wind of Myth, and often even Cade, they panicked, and once one had even tried to stomp the Phouka to death. He would ride one if necessary, but it was a difficult task. Caderin was no coward, but it would only slow them down if they took the time to get a horse used to his prescence.
"I wish you not to grow tired or injured, so I would ask that you use one, or a similar mode of transport for the sake of your own health. It would be best if I traversed the journey in my own way, should you allow it."
He had no wish to follow orders, but this man was only concerned for his wellbeing and that of their mission, so Cade found it easier to submit himself to Nasrin's decision.

joylss

Seldom does he incite privy knowledge to the insights of one man who resembles the outstanding most of calibers. It would seem that Cade has yet dispense enough trust to him to speak openly of sophisticated topics, nor to dwell on sensitive debates. Friends may they be, but subtly does the barrier in between them stood highly still----yet, it would do him well to yield that unwavering trust to his name in future days to come.

Mustered among ample conclusions, the good of kingly prospects that lies in foreboding yearning for Cade awaits him upon the throne of Eloquir, Nasrin would see himself gaping in vacant stare at the prince whose head will fit prime with the crown, whilst relaying a treaty forged by the bonds of twain princes of disparate countries. 

A smile is ultimately conjure to make with subdued demands, as the prince wraps his dainty fingers around the Eloquiri's wrist. ❝ Think naught -- I only hope to curtail the strain our quest will patently inflict upon your welfare. But, if you think such ministrations are unnecessary... Then, it would do you well to hinder me. ❞

(OOC: Sorry this is short! >< but college makes terrible demands and I dont want you to wait on indefinitely for my reply <3 )



Camrie

Cade smiled weakly, an odd pang of guilt in his chest. He looked down at Nasrin's fingers, curled so trustingly around his wrist. He believed them to know each other well enough through their correspondence to be friends- but years of habits die hard, and although the Doriaty Prince deserved to have the utmost confidence and assurance in the one with whom he traveled, Caderin would need just a little more time to curtail his paranoia. The tall man ardently brushed the scar on his chin with a knuckle, an unconcious gesture he barely realized he was doing. The Phouka on his shoulder shot him a look of concern, catching the small gesture with his wide, slit eyes. The long tail of the shadowy creature came up to carefully touch his neck, questions on the featureless face of the fae whom had been his only friend for so long. Cade absently gazed just a few inches away from the ivory Prince, lost in a swirl of thoughts. He had trusted his father. Trusted him with the bond of blood and the love that a child holds for the one who raised him- only to be betrayed in the blackest of ways. He knew in his heart of hearts that Nasrin was good, a fit ruler for any country, worthy of being bestowed the token of friendship that the Eloquir kept so fervently from the world. He jumped when Mythranys nudged his face with his muzzle in a gesture that was almost gentle for such a wild and untameable creature as the Phouka was. He blinked away the ghosts from within his violet and crimson eyes, nervously scratching his neck and bringing his gaze back to the kind man before him.
"I- I apologize... I seem to have wandered off the beaten path of my thoughts again."
He apologized with a wince. A fine ass was he making of himself, for certain.
"If you wish me to savor my strength, I will do so without objection- I only hope that you, as well, might remain healthy. I am no healer, and if you are to be wounded, then I am not versed enough in such arts to save you. I will see fit to watch your back for you, if I may be so bold. It would kill my resolve to watch another friend fall dead at my feet, while I stand helpless as a babe. Do be careful, Nasrin, for my own peice of mind?"

Cade took a steadying breath, finding the flood of memories growing too much. His best friend, closer than a brother could ever be, slaughtered like a prize hog with his father's own blade thrusting like an accusation from his gushing heart- the glassy set of his eyes trying to find his face in the darkness- the hoarse, gurgling whisper of Markulan's dying words. He couldn't witness such a thing again. He couldn't. It hurt, and the Fallen Prince found his left hand flashing up to rub over his chest, over his heart, as if he, too, could feel the bite of steel running him through just as it had the man with whom he'd been so close. Sharp, long canines were revealed as the shadowy Eloquir grimaced with physical and emotional pain, lip curling up and eyes squeezing shut. Shadowfire flared to life in his hands, shooting protectively up and down his forearms as if to ward off invisible attackers. The Phouka looked at the ivory Prince with blatant warning, dragonfly wings seeming to materialize on his back and fluttering into alertness, so he was hovering just in front of Nasrin's face.
"He will be fine in a moment- the black fire will freeze you to death if he touches you too long now. It is best if you stand back-"
He began to say in a low voice, but Cade was faster. He shuddered, body rippling, eyes flying open to reveal pupils blown wide of over his odd irises. His voice was strained, coarse and ragged as he held shaky hands up as the Shadowfire sputtered out in flickers.
"I am... Alright."
He grated, pinching the bridge of his nose to chase away the impeding headache. He took a trembling breath, slumping against the landmark rock as if the fight had been thrown from his bones. His lips twitched in a crooked half smile, though it was without substance.
"I am deeply sorry, my friend... I suffer from the memories in my own head- the trauma of my past has left its mark on my heart. The thought of seeing you die, anyone die..."
He trailed off, sighing. "But I am fine, now. I would wish to be on our way before I grow too weepy on you."
Cade joked at the end with a chuckle, the Phouka appearing again on his shoulder, large, eerie eyes narrowed as he carefully watched his friend. The far was still unconvinced of his apparent recovery.




OOC: lol it was beautiful Nas, no worries! Hope you don't mind my emotional range in this post XD

joylss

Within a minute's consent, an apparently poignant wane seems to have materialized within the man's pitiable form. Lest cannards of stories are foretold, Nasrin would not seek to delve into the depth of sensitive memory. For, Cade might not be a deigned ruler of daunting figure, but, compassionate is his heart and his intends a gust of idyllic ideals. Truth be told, Nasrin does not think a man who possess kindness alone is a figurehead fit for the crown, but suffice his guidance of prince to king a paved road to the throne and the wake of prospective kingship would prevail.

Dejected by his wounded friend, a pale hand of porcelain colour would be offered to the Eloquiri, in accompance with a kindly smile. "Do not let  your mind to fall slave to ill gotten memories, for if you strike it with pain and it will strike back twice as painful. I offer you my word, that I will not cast my life away so long as you stand alive."

His words is without slump, but firm and determined, as if he possesses the ability and power to ascertain the future and how their lives may play out --- but then, perhaps it is only his undertake to provide his friend a word of comfort, to offer the solace Cade so desperately deserved.

"Nevertheless, Our first stop is above the western highlands of the Kilanthro Mountains, where trees are thick and a skies are nigh above our heads --- if it eases your mind to think, I believe our deliberate considerations are the issue of wild animals and witch hunters. Shall we embark in search of, perhaps in a cave or riverbank, so our arrival may not stifle the air?"

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