CaffeinatedCrow

One remaining gold eye would be left staring into a bucket after cleaning what had been left behind. A disfigured head all that was left behind for her whilst the other was brought elsewhere. The wood had been burned, the chain tucked elsewhere, and the blood cleaned away. 'How much blood will be spilt?' The woman questioned, 'Perhaps a lake-full', a voice would answer in the crevices of her mind, a strange nervous squeaking heard after. Though with that, the disfigured head would be taken outside, the maggots and crawlers free to dig in as flesh and blood became one with dirt and stone. The skull, in time, free to be seen. Time may only tell what becomes of the masses...

A Ranaleth of dark hair and amber hues gazes upon the missive with a soft look of understanding. Soon uttering to herself in the confines of a simple room, "I do not blame them for this resignation from us, then again I did not know them personally... let's see what my family shall think on the matter..."

Pale amber hues gaze upon the missive, and in the comforts of some place far from conflict, a dark haired elfess takes a breath and utters to no one but herself, "Let's hope they take this peace, otherwise- I fear the amount of elven blood that must be spilt..."

An adunian finds these writings in Krugmar- of all places to find a writing about five lord'd Gods. She merely looks them over with dulled green eyes, her age visible upon her visage as she merely shakes her head after. "Reminds me of the ramblings of a man I once knew..." She mumbles out, yet soon her attention is caught by another- her focus shifting from the page.

There is suppressed giggles as Liriel just- avoids the manor for the time being. Allowing her family member to calm down for the time being.

“Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.” The month prior had been filled with so much joy, so much care. A gentleness that made everything so soft. Ambrosine felt like things were going to turn around for her- one way or another. A hope in her heart that she hadn’t felt in a long-long time. That hope would not last long… Blood and screams filled the air in Celia’lin that fateful evening. The sound of horse-hooves clambering upon stone, the sound of flesh being met with a blade- everything had turned so wrong so quickly. An uttered phrase of “Igne’Sae” was made, yet barely did that flame begin to alight. That warmth died just as a new warmth had spread upon her left shoulder. The smell of iron filled the air, the smell of rot as well- no… not rot… Sulfur. It was a suffocating smell- and it carried with her as she had heard the last few words of her Haelun- something she tried to hold onto. “Try and stay alive oem’ii…” Tears couldn’t bring the amount of pleads she wanted to share, how she had thought- “No- please- not again. Not again. Anything but this.” But she was not so fortunate, not like the times before. No comfort would soothe her anymore- not this time, not even the uttered apologies of one of her captors. “Please… live…” She thought to herself, but as she kept her teary eyes shut- she could only remember the faces of those she knew… Aiyeis, her Haelun Erendriel, a trusted friend Elarhil, a longtime llir Seth Calith, a Maln figure Soris, someone she aided and thought of as a friend Alistair, someone she cared too much about Ser Artel, a trusted Alchemy buddy Kendall Cooper, a momentary llir Mare, her teacher and llir Kyl’lian, an old fiance- a man who had her heart Valazaer, even in death- she could never have hated him Her birth Haelun Her birth father Her sister… There were many more, but soon her mind was plagued as the flames of a firepit licked at her skin- her screams filling the night air as her tears felt like boiling licks at her skin. Only did her nerves finally burn away- did her mind have a fragment of clarity- the cheery macabre sound of a woman cheering for her demise- as soon the elfess’ ashes had taken to the skies. A little lizard would watch in silence- now in the presence of someone new- someone darker. Nothing could be done, and nothing could be said. The only hope of a bright soul now burned away, only having a thought that she hoped she was remembered, and that she had finally found love… somewhere in the hearts she left behind. In the night sky- Ambrosine would fine three familiar faces- and she finally... finally, found home. Ambrosine Decebal- Made 535 Days and 22 Hours. Died; Age 132 Born; SA 22

A scowl reaches pale lips, and milky green eyes look over the missive. "How did they...?" The question died upon the woman's lips, and she gave a heavy sigh as she raised a scarred hand to pinch the bridge of her nose. "If I had known sooner..." With that she sets the missive aside and offers a small prayer for the safety of Sir Leopold's Family and his Wife.

Milky green eyes awaken to a new day, and another missive. Slumped in a chair she picks up the parchment with scarred fingers. The other appendage rubbing at her dusty temple as she mulls over the intricacies of the missive. "Wonderful... more 'teethers' to look out for..." She utters in dull, exasperated tones. However, she is not distasteful of the idea to perhaps guide those who have found banishment from their homes. But there's a bitter resentment, and she can only hope this all does not end in one giant blood bath of cursed sanguine essence.

Milky gray eyes looked over the missive, and there's a scowl written upon pallid features. "I told him he was stupid..." A baritone voice mutters to herself, before she tosses the missive into a nearby fire. "Ancestors help us, or help me not kill my son myself..."

A familiar red-headed elfess would almost giggle a bit as she read the gazette, her violet eyes looking it over as her and her Pygmy Lizard- Devos- both read over the paper, "The Matchmaker section is highly amusing... I wonder if something will come out of it... Well- praise be the lucky ones." Ambros would muse lightly, her tone light and still filled with chuckles as she would soon gently move to rest her companion on her desk; her companion skittering off to hide in what little jewelry she had lying about next to her candles, before she moved to get ready for bed. A hum on her lips, and a smile to her face.