Full Version: Forsaken World [Andurïl]
You're currently viewing a stripped down version of our content. View the full version with proper formatting.
As though the world was asleep during a period of waking hours, living creatures appeared to be absent, only a few chiming up in a short melody before hushing once more.  Slithering vines slunk over limbs of skyward trees, weaving walls and a dense canopy overhead. Torn from a world filled with open expanses, the close containment restricted flight, wrapping around to form an obstacle. Unfamiliar to certain eyes, the woven webs of foliage-obscured vision, allowing lithe figures to slink undetected to the eye. One such figure moved steadily through the uncharted and untold realm. Body rigid, limbs moved stiffly, perked auds constantly swerving upon the apex of her cranium in an attempt to catch a noise that does not belong. The rare, brief melodies threw her guard up, nearly startling her when the origins were too close. She could not help but become intrigued why what creature would choose such a dwelling. Ground livers certainly had an odd pallet of choices, and maybe the constricting spaces allowed them to escape- an equivalent of what the heavens would be to the winged creature. She had to admit the lack of visibility threw her off, it felt as though a piece of herself was left in the clearing, and now only a broken reflection hung overhead.

Shrugging off mournful ideas, she continued the trajectory through the thickets. Wings drawn tightly inward, and banner trailing along behind, she did her best to avoid snagging feathers and strands of fur on objects she passed by. Paws would press along roots which snuck outwards, snaking over the ground to form a minute maze, mingling with the roots of nearby trees. It was moments like this that the talons which her other siblings were born with would prove to be a restrictive genetic gene. She could not imagine the talons wrapping around the limbs, limiting the grip available and progressively slowing their pace. It swiftly became apparent that Widow ought to be relieved she was enjoying her own paranoid company within the particular styled woodland. It would give her the opportunity to test her weariness, gift a challenge, or bring about a curse. Everything became unpredictable in the new world she wandered into, and her emotions toward the idea were yet to be determined. Orbs constantly scanning the area, it was a realm where false solitude lurked, and a sense of security could switch into a deadly situation in a heartbeat.

<center><div style="background: url('') no-repeat top; width: 600px;"><div style="padding-right: 25px; padding-left: 25px; padding-bottom: 25px; padding-top: 525px; font-family: georgia; text-align:justify; font-size:12px; color: #ecccbb">With each passing moment, the sun would heed the call, falling back upon the horizon, spilling forth from chalice upon the silken sky. Here, in this world of shadow and hidden truths, Andurïl was content to linger in each passing hymn, a creature born of the earth, its thrums a constant companion beneath his steps. Aloft, the cathedral would glisten with the lanterns of heavenly sky, pale lights slowly peeking forth, dotting along the ashen dome. The moment when all was chaos, the beasts of the day sending of a cascade to their dens and burrows, the beasts of night awakening, stretching out coiled limbs until at last flight would take them as it may. Here, wandering the lonely paths of the lost world, Andurïl was content, the lull of solitude a familiar weight upon shoulder, his cloak a dense fur that seemed to vibrate with the air around him. He bled into the surrounding flora, alight with the dying suns grasp, a final token of faith until a time they would meet again.
It wasn't an easy thing, to live in Silvis. the constant tension needed to become aware of the dangers bore a groove into the subtle shift of his body, the furrow around the eyes, the trembles in his feathers, a crest casting patterns upon the redness of his back. The man did not know what had compelled him to leave his den that night, having been quite content not even moments prior. Steps taken carefully, he had abandoned the silent meadow, the weeping willow a sentinel in the dark, until he had skimmed the stone slopes and into the forest below. Now, he would walk, listening to the rise and fall of delicate songs, their presence a lyrical performance played on repeat each night by those who yet dared the Silvian court. He had never felt the urge to join in, a creature of few words, a ghost who cared not if any were to know of his existence. It was almost comforting, to slip past without eyes upon his hide, a rogue lord who bowed to none but his own desires. Sighing, he would whisk past the trunk of a colossal pillar, into the fern clearing at the heart of the wood. Their fronds furled tight, each stood limp, neither dead nor awakened, the ceiling, hundreds of feet above dark and still, the halls on either side stretching on for eternity.
<font style="color:#62021a;"><b>Speak</b></font>

For group: It starts as a rumble, seeming to be nothing but the passing of a stampeding herd in the distance. Its barely a rumble but then the vibrations start, slithering through your paws and rattling joints. But thats not even the beginning, birds scatter, taking to the skies in massive clutches, prey seems to decide you are no longer the biggest threat and begin dashing madly about. Thats when it happens, the first tree comes crashing down, massive roots tearing completely from the ground and flinging clods of dirt into the sky as the ancient trunk seems to move in slow motion towards the ground... Thats right, it's an earthquake!