Bounty on your head
Delah Tàirneanach
the Greatwood Guardian
War Chief

Age: 108 | Height: 4' | Race: Fae | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Greatwood
Level: 5 - Strg: 11 - Dext: 30 - Endr: 25 - Luck: 28 - Int:
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#1
if you throw me to the wolves
They will join you soon. Delah replies soundlessly to Amalia's plea. And then they are off.

She doesn't struggle, that is good for them, but stupid for her. The Fae value strength, any of the assembled would cut off their limbs and murder their kin before being taken hostage.

It is why they hate the newcomers so much, naturals and outlanders alike. They do not belong in the woods. They can sully and ruin their own worlds, break their own societies and curse their bodies. But the Fae will have none of it, Delah less so than most.

Oh she has seen some of them with their wandering eyes, their curious conversations. She will cut this off at the quick before it goes any farther.

And it starts with one.

This one.

Delah barks orders in a language that sounds like plants growing and winds ruffling through stones. Around Amalia the bonds become loser, falling away entirely. Her muzzle is released, but then again, it wasn't through her feline lips that she had been communicating anyways.

"Jump." Delah demands, outloud and in common tongue now. Before Amalia is a giant pit, at least 30ft down. There is a man down there, an outlander (Adam) captured earlier, though he appears to be unconscious, or perhaps just...sleeping?
i'll come back leading the pack

Coding base by Sky!
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
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#2
Amalia
'Cause she's just like the weather
Can't hold her together
Born from dark water
Daughter of the r a i n and s n o w
They will join you soon. Amalia growls low in response, anger ripping through her feline form, but still does not resist. She keeps her body low and her ears pinned, a snarl directed at the small, brunette fae, the apparent leader of this tribe as they lead her with spears and blows through the woods. They speak in a language beautiful and wild, not unlike the winged creatures themselves. Under separate circumstances the loreseeker may have been fascinated.

As it is, she is terrified and enraged.

Where are my friends? Amalia demands, inquires, still silent in leopard form as they at last draw to a halt. She feels braver in this skin, less vulnerable, less trapped, though her body still shakes. Hands are on her, pulling, untying, the leashes and lashes which hold her in place steadily falling away until the leopard sits, unencumbered, staring in bitter confusion at the fae. Why are you doing this?

And when she is told to jump-! Amalia glances into the pit, swallowing deeply in sudden dismay. Long claws extract and cling to the earth, as through she can anchor herself, lock her body here and remain outside this trap. Out of one cage and into another... the baker-turned-leopard again shakes her head, fresh determination and stubborn fire in her eyes, a pleading, questioning, wistful cadence in her mental voice. I won't go in another cage. All we wanted was to be free.
Delah Tàirneanach
the Greatwood Guardian
War Chief

Age: 108 | Height: 4' | Race: Fae | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Greatwood
Level: 5 - Strg: 11 - Dext: 30 - Endr: 25 - Luck: 28 - Int:
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#3
if you throw me to the wolves
Delah ignores the first question. It is not Amalia's to ask, and for her part, Delah considers it answered.

The second though...

"These are our woods that you defile with your presence. Do we come into your homes, prodding your things and call it exploration? Delah hisses in a voice that rings distinctly feline. Gold rings her moss coloured eyes for a moment and she very nearly hisses.

"And all we wanted was to be left alone. One of us will get what they want." A near gale-force wind is summoned then, biting into Amalia's flesh and loosening the ground that her claws cling to. Defiantly Delah stands in its wake, hair a torrent of brown and eyes like determined boulders. "Jump." She commands again.
i'll come back leading the pack

Coding base by Sky!
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
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#4
Amalia
'Cause she's just like the weather
Can't hold her together
Born from dark water
Daughter of the r a i n and s n o w
A cat can sense another cat, and Amalia's ears flatten further at Delah's hissed warning, her fur standing nearly on edge. Defile and prodding are the slaps of whips, burrs beneath her skin, hurting more because it may be true. They have gone wantonly into their woods, invading and leaving their mark, their tracks. The girl thinks of the countless Outlanders appearing like mice in a winter barn, taking over and making themselves comfortable, heedless of the denizens who live within.

But that was different... wasn't it?

I'm sorry. We should have asked you first, but... nobody came to speak to us. We don't want to invade or defile. We just want-

But before she can finish a wind picks up, pulling and shoving at her fur, an unnatural gale with the fae in the middle. Amalia snarls against the zephyr, lowering her body to the ground as the earth crumbles beneath her claws. Paws morph into fingers for a better grasp, though her long tail remains, swinging wildly to maintain balance. Mort! Amalia silently curses, her dark eyes glaring into Delah's brown, a stubborn set to her jaw. We did nothing to hurt you. Just let me go home.
Delah Tàirneanach
the Greatwood Guardian
War Chief

Age: 108 | Height: 4' | Race: Fae | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Greatwood
Level: 5 - Strg: 11 - Dext: 30 - Endr: 25 - Luck: 28 - Int:
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#5
if you throw me to the wolves
"Why should we come speak to you?" Delah demands in a voice like frozen stone. "That you are too ignorant to know when you are in someone else's home is not our problem and you will abide our rules and our consequences, such is the price for your ignorance."

At the invocation of Mort's name, Delah laughs. "To the dark prince we have been ever faithful, our way of life a testament to all he is. You will curry no favour calling to him here. He has reaped many a soul from our pit."

The wind increases and now bits of debris and dirt let loose by Ama's nails are swept into her eyes and nose.

"You are ignorant. The air you breathe is a poison to our woods. Your body is a blight."
i'll come back leading the pack

Coding base by Sky!
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
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#6
Amalia
'Cause she's just like the weather
Can't hold her together
Born from dark water
Daughter of the r a i n and s n o w
Delah laughs at Amalia's invocation, and that is a wound deeper than any other. I have been faithful, too, she snarls, her fingers retracting once more into claws. I have prayed while we've been trapped, and I've done everything I can to serve them. Pride, and pain, physical or mental; Amalia coils into herself, glaring and hurt, longing for her gods. Are these the ones they were forsaken for, this hostile race of vagabonds, unable to see past their own short wings.

Amalia closes her eyes, tears welling up both from anger and dirt. What does that mean? she demands, entreats. We breathe Rae's air! My body is as Vi made me-!

And suddenly she shifts, her fur retracting and arms morphing into wings as the owl within her emerges with a cry, feathered body picked up and hovering in a gale, beating powerfully against the wind as she stares at the fae attempts to stay out of the dreaded pit.
Delah Tàirneanach
the Greatwood Guardian
War Chief

Age: 108 | Height: 4' | Race: Fae | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Greatwood
Level: 5 - Strg: 11 - Dext: 30 - Endr: 25 - Luck: 28 - Int:
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#7
if you throw me to the wolves
Delah sneers. "You know so little of what the gods are truly like. You are born here, but trapped as you were? You are no better than they are." With another hollow bark of laughter, Delah shakes her head again. "You think it was Rae's air you breathed while you were foresaken? That it was Vi who made you?"

As Amalia shifts, Delah lifts her head with perhaps something like approval in her eyes. It is good that she fights, even if it is against the inevitable. Such is the way of life.

And of death.

"No." Delah whispers to the wind, and the force increases. It slices against the owl's wings, undercutting the lift needed and instead pushing down on primary and flight feathers that have almost no hope of success.

"Down, girl." Delah commands, the gale a tyrant force now, oppressive and without room for negotiation.
i'll come back leading the pack

Coding base by Sky!
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
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#8
Amalia
'Cause she's just like the weather
Can't hold her together
Born from dark water
Daughter of the r a i n and s n o w
If not them, who? It is a rhetorical question; if there is one thing Amalia trusts, it is her faith. Mort loved us enough to spare us. Safrin blessed me to become Attuned. I have gathered souls for Ludo. I have fucked Frey. A weird flex, one she never expected she would make, but desperate times call for desperate brags.

Were she human, she would blush.

But there is only so much fighting the girl can do, and as the wind beats down on her she feels her wings grow weary, bones shuddering, muscles strained, her beak grinding uncomfortably as she attempts to remain airborne. Delah is a tyrant and Amalia is a flame, flickering and fading but not yet doused. With one last push she shoves herself upward, trying to fight the oppressive wind and rise from these forest - these people - at last.
Delah Tàirneanach
the Greatwood Guardian
War Chief

Age: 108 | Height: 4' | Race: Fae | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Greatwood
Level: 5 - Strg: 11 - Dext: 30 - Endr: 25 - Luck: 28 - Int:
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#9
if you throw me to the wolves
Matched as they are for endurance, were this a simple test of girl against girl, it is possible that, after the day Delah has had, Amalia might have succeeded.

But Delah was not alone. The Fae never were.

Tangles of veins stretch out from the sides of the cliff face as earth-casters come to stand astride their chief. It is not a weakness that Delah requires their efforts to help her contain this spirit, but a pandering to who they were as a race. They were one, if they were anything at all.

The vines grasped at small feet, stretching out so that the pale wings could not extend far enough outwards. Whispering a word to the group that sounds like a knife whittling wood, the vines become soft towards the owl, urging her down gently. Amalia has surprised the chief and though her power is great, she seeks no additional victories here.

The others will come. The fox will be dealt with (white, or red?) and, if necessary, the beasts will be fed.
i'll come back leading the pack

Coding base by Sky!
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
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Posts: 3,098 | Total: 4,577
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#10
Amalia
'Cause she's just like the weather
Can't hold her together
Born from dark water
Daughter of the r a i n and s n o w
And, at last, the girl is felled. Stronger than she might have expected, Amalia will one day look back and be surprised at how well she held. As it is she feels confused, defeated, frightened and lost as the fae rise as one. The show of force is oppressive, but Amalia does not think it as a cheap trick. In truth, she is envious- if the Naturals could bind together so well, perhaps none of this would have happened at all. They would still be inside the barrier, the Old Ones would not be angry, the Voice would be contained.

Is this the punishment for her sins?

And so at last the girl succumbs, caught by the air and earth together, her wings useless against their combined might. The fall is gentler than she might have anticipated, and were she less frightened she may have noticed, but for now she can only fall and fall, spiraling lonely into the dark.

And as she falls her body trembles, shifts, returns slowly to its human form as her strength and will at last falter. Landing on the floor, Amalia balls her fists, staring back up at the sky, the trees, the unattainable darkness of the sky. Somehow she doubts she can fly out.

"Don't hurt my friends!" she calls one last time, her alto voice desperate, a final plea. And then with a sigh she turns to look around the pit, her eyes shifting to owl's as she tries to make sense of her surroundings, the darkness empty except for--

"Adam?!"
Adam Pikely
Smuggler's Liaison

Age: 36 | Height: 6'3" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
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#11
ADAM
it's not a cry for help,
it's just a cry for connection.
Adam had been in plenty of jails in his life and as they went, this one was not so bad. There was a bed, food, fresh air...really, it was more like a holiday home. While he still very much intended to leave one day he did not mind camping for a time here.

He had not expected guests, though.

Adam was laid out staring up at the sky when he saw a scuffle up top, Coffee acting as his extra eyes told him it was the woman from the bakery. This surprised him as she had not seemed the 'adventuring into the Fae village' type, had seemed content in her shop with her bread and recipes.

As she floated down much like he had he scooted to the side and casually waited for her, arms behind his head. He...didn't remember her having weird bird eyes before, but chose not to mention it for the moment.

"Hey. We gotta stop meeting like this, people might talk." He grinned, pushing himself up onto his elbows.
i'd trade my life and health,
to make people pay attention.
I'd sacrifice myself for the
sake of entertainment.
Delah Tàirneanach
the Greatwood Guardian
War Chief

Age: 108 | Height: 4' | Race: Fae | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Greatwood
Level: 5 - Strg: 11 - Dext: 30 - Endr: 25 - Luck: 28 - Int:
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#12
if you throw me to the wolves
It isn't long before yet another is at the top of the pit. Kiada, having been netted in her form, all but dragged (fairly gently, given the circumstances) to where Delah stood, overseeing Amalia and Adam socializing below.

With a glance towards the bramble-fingered creatures that had snatched Kiada so deftly, Delah gave them an approving nod.

"Jump." She instructed Kiada once the bindings were removed from her wings (or her human form, had she shifted).
i'll come back leading the pack

Coding base by Sky!
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: shark Offline
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Posts: 3,098 | Total: 4,577
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#13
Amalia
'Cause she's just like the weather
Can't hold her together
Born from dark water
Daughter of the r a i n and s n o w
Adam may be grinning wryly, but Amalia is low on humor. Too tired to stand, she pulls herself over to the brigand, crawling across the ground. "How long have you been here?" the girl demands, relieved and fearful and protective. "How did they catch you? Are you hurt?" Unbidden, unasked, she wraps her arms around him before pulling back, black eyes inspecting closely for any sign of damage, her hands rough on his warm skin, finding reassurance in the touch.

Her blood cools as she sits in the pit, the rush of wrath giving way to exhaustion. Releasing Adam at last, Amalia sits back with a sigh, heartbeat thunder in her ears.  "Is anybody else down here?"

But before she has a chance to barrage him with more questions, a commotion from above catches her ear. Amalia springs on her feet, invigorated again, her ears taking on an avian quality as she strains to hear what's happening above. "Who's up there? Don't hurt anyone!"
Adam Pikely
Smuggler's Liaison

Age: 36 | Height: 6'3" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
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#14
ADAM
it's not a cry for help,
it's just a cry for connection.
"Oh, I dunno, a couple da--" Adam began to say until he was cut off by a sudden hug, awkwardly patting Amalia on the back as he blinked through it in surprise. "..I'm...fine...bit hungry, but I've been rationing out my food. Did they give you any?" As she pulled away he cleared his throat and adjusted his shirt, unsure of how to deal with tricksy platonic affection.

"N-" Adam was once again stopped short by the same commotion up top, and leaned back on his elbows to watch what was happening. In his experience the Fae didn't seem to want to hurt someone as long as they willingly jumped, so as long as this person wasn't dumb he was sure they would be fine. To help, he shouted:"Jump! The water's fine!"
i'd trade my life and health,
to make people pay attention.
I'd sacrifice myself for the
sake of entertainment.


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