DahStalker

The Huntress and Crow _________________ A ballet composed by Lady Elia Eryka Colborn ________________________ DESCRIPTION Romance, tragedy, and misfortunes. The tale of a famed Huntress who as result of a challenge fall deeply in love with the Crow Beast. However, shall their love fester or will it die from jealousy? Adventure with the Huntress as she ventures within the forests of Hannes shall be faced with a number of tribulations and newfound emotions. It is with great joy that we announce the requirement of places filled, and thus shall be hosting auditions. CHARACTERS The Huntress Crow Beast Vlad Hunters The Sneaky Foxes The Fairies The Deer The Wolves AUDITION FROMAT: Username: Discord: Character: Desired Role(s): [AUDITIONS WILL LAST FROM THE 16-19TH AT ANY PLANNED TIME BETWEEN I AND INTERESTED PLAYERS]

ur mother lhoris and father mika @mika1278

The morning had started with the chaos of servantry pivoting around to organize the furniture to accommodate the upcoming event, frenzy following every haste step. At the end of the hall, a teen with copper curls paced, directing each man and woman to their proper stations, frustration evident with the wrought of her brows. “Nejt, to the left- it looks crooked.” She’d exclaim with feet carrying her along the aisle in long strides. The hostess of the upcoming festivities, her cousin, had devoted herself to extra slumber. The stars in the night before had not been enough to lull her asleep peacefully, and thus the responsibility of the preparation was rendered to the eldest; herself. As she pivoted down the stairs she was greeted to the sights of her grandfather, positioned at the flank of her beloved ‘nanny’ Rudolf, talking as they marked off the oncoming barrels of Ale. To the furthest was her cousin Maric with his son Lorence as they assisted the servants carrying tables to the floors above. And finally her brother Ernst, takes interviews within the confines of his office. This was an event to anticipate. The end of Duma had brought further lines of stress to her temples and yet as she approached a certain individual at the aviary she could feel the heavy thud of her heart return. It was an unruly tension, an agonizing grip of anxiety that oddly enough led to excitement and joy - rather than that of dread. She had wondered if this is what was felt by her farfadir when he had met his love Gwyn, was this the beginning blossom of an unyielding affection? She could say not, she would have to ask him later. After the party would do. While her guest had other obligations to attend and could not make the evening events, she hardly let it falter her spirits. She’d dine with her friends of new and old, tasting the finery of their culture, and liquor from their souls. From the corner of her eye, she could see her guardian speak to Ipera de Falstaff regarding the history of their friendship and more - a common trait she held. Something she had learned through the years; is that history is of utmost relevance and importance to carry anew. She’d smirk to herself and glance to the table, entirely content. When it came to the waltz of flourishing skirts and sporadic dances she had found herself pinned to the corner of the simple ballroom, only to be beckoned inward to a forced dance between herself and her eldest sister. With the grace of his smile, her farfadir had encouraged her to forcibly drag her sister along in a morbid way of twists and turns. He had always called her a ‘wallflower’. The night had ended grotesquely, filled with tears and sobs, to the point of raw voices. She could not recall much beyond then, it had turned into a miserable blur. At some point both herself and Adrian had pushed to the side, he angled against the railing, and she per usual at his flank. A brief remark and smirk had been directed his way, but he had seemed distant as if he saw something. When he brought himself to the stairs she allowed her eyes to seek the confines of the ballroom once more; lovers entangled in an embrace, siblings frolicking around, and tiresome guardians preparing themselves with departure through concluding the conversation. The first thud of impact had directed her to stare at the tripping elder as he flew down the stairs, eyes grew wide as she shrieked so loudly her throat wobbled with sheer force. There was blood, his frame limp, yet his spirit still bound. The night was numbing, full of relatives coming and going as they blessed their beloved Patriarch, beckoning their momentary goodbyes. As her steel eyes met the pale lids of his own she could only feel another fit of tears asunder, chest heaving as the teen gradually lowered into a knelt position at his bedside, palms desperately reaching out for him. “When our ancestor Jesper was faced with sickness, he conquered the realm through his hope and perseverance. It is nejt time for you to go- you will rise once more, and be with us. You shall see Catalina walk down the halls of a cathedral, see Lorence bring glory to the Colborn name, Ada will avenge her fadir, and Allyssa will grow to be like farmodir. All of us are nejt yet grown, we have nejt finished our story, and nejt have you yet either. I- I will remain resolute like you, for our family.” It was then the girl recalled the events prior, up to Duma, and tears blurred her vision once more. “I-...” The girl began, voice hoarse as she bellowed out in a singular sob unable to be contained further. “H-..” The words stuck, wobbling in their attempted escape as she thought of the stories from Attenlund, one of expedition, adventures, and love. Hours of tales spoken in soft murmur regarding his beloved, of the family he had formed with her, the wish he had honored. So many words unspoken and so much advice untold. “He calls me Ellie.” Escaped the words, pushed through alongside a storm of sobs, the wall of defense fully shattered now as she collapsed at his side. The dew of the morning felt sticky and dour, unlike the common crisp of the air. Everything felt more compacted now as the girl had bound herself to the keep, sheltered away. Fingers curled inward against her shawl as she roamed the halls absentmindedly, numbed from emotion. She had struggled to keep her defense up once more after the nights before, managing only feeble smiles toward her relatives. But, she could yet face the world. On that fateful morning and knocked at her door, she received a letter from the trusted burgrave. She read it once, twice, thrice, and twelve times more. Each second and time she allowed the words to soak further and further into her core, rumbling with the might behind each written letter and phrase. Digits lined the contour of each lettering, recalling how the lines curved or perhaps where the quill had lifted, numbness draining some. The change had occurred and her life would never quite return to being the same. It is whispered that after a month had passed with the vacant ballroom that the subtle request of igniting the lanterns within was made once more. Deep in the halls roamed the singular teen, dressed tautly in the thin skirts of her ballet attire, feet wrapped and bound with flats. Silently she faced the shallow walls before bringing herself upright onto a toe, beginning to lurch herself into a wordless dance of sorrow and acceptance. And as those pirouettes began with the haste application of speed she brought her limbs inward, complexion tilted upright to the grim ceiling as tears flowed freely. For once without the aid of her grandfather, she had begun to heal on her own. Endurance.

Lowering the blueprints from her grasp upon hearing the news her lips pivoted into a grin, immediately shifting to the library to look for scrolls of ancient Colborn traditions to use for proper celebration.

Elia aggressively fangirls

“NICE” says Elia Colborn.

What is your favorite rp interaction with me? What is the most boomer thing you have seen Harren do? What comes to mind when you think “cmu”

Elia Eryka Colborn’s eyes widened upon seeing the impressive feat by her cousin Catalina! Being involved in such prestigious events operated by both the Baroness-Consort Morovar and Queen Council.

A certain elfess lowers her wine glass and looks into the furthest corner of her room, there she saw her beloved relic... a bag with the label holding onto the sewn words; 'High Pontiff stealing equipment bag'. She smiled.

After being awakened from her retirement the elfess looks at the advertisement. "Might need to call this kid." They claimed, stuffing the folded parchment away.

Lhoris went to smoke a ciggie, drinking at a glass of wine on her mini-dwarven steamboat. "They didn't even get the right human right." She said in the privacy of her homeland waters. "The love affair was with Henry Penton, the bastard." The elfess shook her head miserably.

Keep me out of your affairs. I could simplify this address with the mere sentence above, however I doubt that shall satisfy any true needs. It is known that my past identity was that of Mariana Dubois, it was made known during the reign of Peter III, when I came forth from my sin in confession under the current vicar of man at the time; James II. However, your statement is laced with lies and a twist of my words in my confession. So, I shall make a few things clear and leave you with that. - There was no love affair, for James II would not sin. To imply that a beloved vicar of man past or present should be sin itself, while I confess that James kept a place in my heart, there was no lewd nor 'affair' - The lineage of your family, that came from Nenica, they hated me. They had no assistance from me in their churchly affairs, in-fact Nenica was disowned, and hated me so. Alfred became vicar through effort and his love of the church, no one else. I hadn't spoken to her since she had turned eighteen and ran from Kaedrin to Haense. - The affairs of Azdromoth were not requested by me, my hatred for the dragonkin is quite publicly known, you may ask any who saw my near-death within the confines of Urguan by the Cloud-breaker. This only caused my hatred to grow from previous matters, which was also expressed as I threw slurs of said lizardkin. I believe no one cares for those foul beasts. The monster threatened the security of the church, life of the clergy, and the existing family of Virosi (for there was a living nephew of blood) and there was no choice left. What are you to do when a daemon comes at your doorsteps? As a friend of James II, I went with him, and protected him. He sacrificed the possibility of his soul for the church, and in exchange, Michael and otherworldly beings of light respected him, and were more inclined to meet him. - Why would Aenguls communicate further with James II should he have willingly affiliated with a daemon? How could he have been given the banner of Michael? They granted him gifts for his act of defiance against greater evil. - James II never faltered in his belief of GOD, that is false. And while I was poised as Beatrice, everything within that statement was true. I had no consent from James II to pose as his niece, he was senile at the time. But the sins of Owyn the Pretender were evident. If such were not the case; other clergy would have not joined beside me, nor the majority of the Canonist faith. But who would believe an elf? It was a necessary evil. - I released a paper exposing the sins of Owyn the Pretender, and nothing beyond that. I did not orchestrate the slaughter, that was members of your Canondom and Clergy. - The Pied Piper was a title of papers, not an entity. It is evident if you read them. It directly translates to; "Pied Piper; the snake in the gardens". - I have had no contact with any Barclay in the past century besides you. I think it is clear, grandson, what this publication is truly for. Do not include me within your snide politics to try and overthrow the current vicar of man, I shall not have any of it. I have left the realm of Horen and plan to retire peacefully. I should have expected this much during our final ‘farewell’ where I released to you my past, and you your vendetta of your own bloodline. In a morbid way, it is expected, for you were partially raised by me. Lie and deceive, that is what you had been raised to do. So, in a way I am morbidly proud of you for abiding by those teachings. But I have changed past that, and I hope you do as well, grandson. You have taken my past, my words, and twisted them. And in your path of desperation, you have yourself sinned through fabrication; going even as low as to insult a dead and holy man. Perhaps you should repent, I am unsure, you are grown now. But do not include me in your propaganda, it is a devastating and tiresome reach.

COLBORN SALE: ITEMS FOR SALE _____________________________________________________ Might Sell! Might not! Send Elia Eryka Colborn a bird! (mc bird, or on this thread) All you have to do is offer your price and say what you want! https://imgur.com/a/IehPVxH Enjoy!

elia cry 9reserved8

Upon hearing of the passing of her beloved relative the youth cupped her mouth with a stifled sob. "Oh, nej." She said sorrowfully, going into mourning.

Elia Eryka Colborn simply stares down at the missive with a curt smile and nod, waving it about as she hoped to show all of her family and friends. A marvelous society indeed!

Elia turns in bed with sudden nightmares, thrashing beneath her covers. “O-Objection, speculation.. Objection.. speculation..”

A particular and previously abducted elfess had truly hoped she would be the one to gack said rat. However, the world was everything but fair.

I love everything about this post. Especially the proper citated sources

Bishop Dosiya idled quietly at the news. “I wonder if any shall consider the severity and weight of this gesture. GODani bless the three rulers, and may light shed upon them once more.”

Lhoris Anarion looks over the pile of unpaid taxes due to unpaid debts, pressing her hands in her temples. "I cannot believe this." She said, coping and seething.

ELIA ERYKA COLBORN, THE COUNTESS OF GOAT, APPROVES THIS MESSAGE.

Elia Eryka Colborn watched and even joined in the celebration alongside her sister and cousins as they pivoted in circles with joyous dances and flourishing skirts. However, when such a high faded she could not help but keep that upright plaster of her lips, knowing the severity of this honor, and what came with it. Wordlessly she retired to her cramped room that she shared with her siblings, placing a palm to either shoulder of Dominic and Ernst as they spoke of the future. There was much to be done, and this was only the beginning.

Elia Eryka Colborn was finally able to repay her debts by providing copious amounts of goat milk to Hannes with his stay in Haense.