this kingdom you've burned
Nephele Amoret
the Meadowhawk


Age: 60 | Height: 5'0 | Race: Fae | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Greatwood
Level: 3 - Strg: 11 - Dext: 14 - Endr: 24 - Luck: 3 - Int:
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#1

there she was, all dressed in adventure, straddling the edge of a star

This is the farthest she has ever come into Hollowed Ground territory. While normally she would be enamored with the differences, with the way the trees sing their own tune and the world seeks to reclaim the abominations of old, derelict buildings that she passes, she has a reason for her intrusion. Not that it's much of an intrusion at all. Nephele would happily bring this section of Caido into their realm, protecting it from the sickness of its current inhabitants and healing the wounds left upon it.

The Spire is like a monument of death, surrounded by ash and ruin. It twists her stomach, a fist clenching deep in her ribcage that mourns what had once been. What could have been. Any sympathy Nephele had previously been harboring for the Outlanders is burned away by the fires of her rage, the grief that consumes her entirely. To see such a wasteland where once fertile soil had lived is like seeing a child fall to sickness before their time. It is a loss that impacts her directly, that steals the breath from her lungs and brings a burn of tears to her eyes.

Still she flies, because there is simply nothing else she can do. Vi's command brings her here, and she prays so fervently it nearly takes over the entirety of her conscious thought. Please, please heal this land. Breathe your life into it, let Rae reclaim it. It does not deserve to suffer because of these cruel, mindless creatures.

When she lands, ash puffs up in clouds around her ankles, staining her bare skin with the remains of scorched earth. It nearly chokes her, and she blinks away the dust and the tears that accumulate in her hazel eyes. Without a care for her dress or her skin, she falls to her knees in the wreckage of this once-beautiful plot of land. Her hands tremble as she withdraws her spade, and can scarcely bear to thrust it into the earth to dig a hole for the next rose. Has it not suffered enough? But Nephele trusts in Vi's power, in his guidance, and she places the rose in its hole and uses her black-stained hands to cover it once more. Wipes her tears against her sooty forearms, smearing the darkness across her cheeks, and presses her palms to the blackened earth in solemn, tearful apology for what was done to it.


Nephele

Roana Steadman
Soldier

Age: 35 | Height: 5'8" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
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#2
Roana usually avoided the Spire. It was a monument on a battlefield, a reminder of the pain and suffering that had spanned centuries in the Hollowed Grounds. It was here where she had fought the Spire demon. It was here where she had watched her dearest friend die. It was here where she had found herself transported outside a barrier to be nearly murdered by Fae. But now she was here again to fight for the lives others; albeit in a different capacity.

She approached the looming structure, rose in hand and claymore on her hip, a light frown seemingly etched into her features. But then her eyes caught some movement, and she was surprised to find a Fae woman knelt by the Spire, digging a hole in the ground. ”Greetings, friend.” she said softly as she approached. ”I see you’ve come to plant one of Vi’s roses.” she said as she knelt, pulling out her own tools to do so.
Roana
Said I'll always be your friend
Took an oath, imma stick it out to the end
Nephele Amoret
the Meadowhawk


Age: 60 | Height: 5'0 | Race: Fae | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Greatwood
Level: 3 - Strg: 11 - Dext: 14 - Endr: 24 - Luck: 3 - Int:
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#3

there she was, all dressed in adventure, straddling the edge of a star

Unlike with Ianto, she is too consumed in her mourning to focus on her surroundings. It is only luck that ensures the new arrival is of a kindly sort, not a Blight-infected intruder for her to fight off. Though her cheeks are still wet, Nephele's face is calm when she turns to look upon the woman that approaches. Tears do not shame or embarrass her, not when she feels so above most of these wingless humans in the first place. What could they possibly understand of her sorrow?

She is called friend, and her tongue knows she cannot lie and say the same in return. Instead she inclines her head towards the beautiful woman, welcoming her presence readily enough. Though her soul still feels raw she would not turn away anyone seeking to help end the Blight. "Hello," she greets quietly instead, wings humming restlessly on her spine. It seems silly to state the obvious, but words do not have the same gravitas to humans as they do to the Fae. "Yes. The Blight is killing the Greatwood, and my twin sister. I will do whatever the Gods bid me to ensure it is defeated." Vehemence crawls in her vocals, and she stares firmly down at the rose she has planted, smoothing some more dirt over its roots before she feels content in calling it planted.

Nephele

Wessex Theskyra
the Wraith
General of the Hollowed Grounds

Age: 47 | Height: 5'8'' | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 61 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 61 - Luck: 58 - Int: 2
LOKI - Mythical - Dragon (Energy Blast)
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#4
WESSEX
the wraith
It’s probably a stupid idea. A really stupid idea, given who’s standing there, also doing the planting. A Fae, who will probably call her an abomination and set her on fire (or something like that), and Roana, who is on Ascended-ending kick.

Cool.

Cool cool cool cool cool.

Let’s do it.

Endear them - or at least get some of this tension out in the open.

There is little time to do things these days, The Queen must snatch moments where she can, and since it’s fully daylight and she isn’t expected anywhere for a bit, Wessex attempts to get to work on her laundry list of tasks. First and foremost - the roses; she worries it’s been out of the ground for too long, even cased in damp cloth as it is. Better to get it in the ground sooner rather than later. So, cowled and cloaked, the Ascended walks to the Spire, rose in hand, and after pausing a moment to consider the other two women there, proceeds anyway. There’s a bit of distance there - enough to be ignored if that was therir wish, but also easily engaged.

Releasing her talons for a third time, Wessex sends them into the earth to create a hole for the final rose, sets it gently in, and covers it back up. No ceremony, no prayers, just the action of doing it, and being seen while doing it.

{you can ignore her or not! totes up to yall}
she's pullin' the trigger
cause it's me and the moon, she says
and i have no trouble with that
Roana Steadman
Soldier

Age: 35 | Height: 5'8" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
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#5
Roana carefully placed her rose in the hole she had dug, listening to the Fae quietly. "I am sorry your sister is ill. My sister-in-law is also ill. She was researching it for Frey and caught it that way." she said quietly. As she tossed the loose dirt in and around roots of the plant. "My name is Roana, by the way." she said with a small smile towards the Fae woman. A thought occurred to her, and she contemplated how best to ask it.

"If I may...I am just learning about the gods here and how best to serve them. I just wondered..." she paused, still at a loss for how to work around saging exactly the situation. "If you asked the gods for a solution to a problem, and the solution they gave was one that conflicted with your morals...would you still do it?" she asked, looking over at her.
Roana
Said I'll always be your friend
Took an oath, imma stick it out to the end
Nephele Amoret
the Meadowhawk


Age: 60 | Height: 5'0 | Race: Fae | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Greatwood
Level: 3 - Strg: 11 - Dext: 14 - Endr: 24 - Luck: 3 - Int:
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#6

there she was, all dressed in adventure, straddling the edge of a star

The approach of another draws her attention away as Roana speaks. Frankly she doesn't care much about the woman's sister or her efforts against the Blight. She is a Fae, and she cares for her own, and this companionable facade grates against her sensitive nerves still raw from the shock of seeing the blackened land around them. At least she manages a soft hum of condolence, because it would be a lie to repeat the phrase back at the dark haired woman.

"I am Nephele," she says quietly in turn, glancing intermittently at the hooded form planting a rose a distance from them. Not a threat, if she is planting the rose instead of destroying it, but Neph can't help her gnawing curiosity. Patting the earth down with her palms to keep the rose standing tall, she brushes her hands idly against her dress and stands. It's not very imposing with her height, but she doesn't see the sense in dawdling. She has one last rose and a formulating plan to try and save her twin. But the woman has a question for her, and Nephele turns her head to regard her curiously as she considers her answer.

"Life is not so simple as that," she states, voice flat and sure "Each God has a different view on life, on how problems are solved. One voice speaking close to your ear does not make it truer than those rising in quieter chorus. Vi and Mort both cherish life, in opposing ways. It does not make either of them wrong, for they live in harmony." Her voice rings clear and stately, gaze distant as she considers what she would do in such a situation. But the vagueness of the question vexes her, the Fae not the type to mince words if they expected honesty. "We are only alive for the blink of an eye to the Gods. What they see as a solution does not always take into consideration the little things that directly influence our choices. I have faith in them, but I do not believe they are always right. Few things in this world have only one singular solution." Had she been told how to cure the Blight and did not approve of the solution? Otherwise why would she seek advice from a Fae?

Tossing her hair over her shoulder to stop herself from dirtying it with her hands, she gazes down at Roana. "We are born with free will. They made us that way and should expect it of us. I cannot answer your question in a simple yes or no. If your morals stand against what you have been told, then perhaps find a different God to align your faith with. There will always be someone to take your place, it is not worth sacrificing the ideals you have worked to cultivate." The Fae were not particularly religious, paying respect to the Gods but generally not seeking them out. They trusted in the balance of the world and its inhabitants. If Nephele was told to kill her sister to save the Greatwood, she would not. Someone else would come along, faithful and willing, whose morals did not clash with that God. She was not above them, but she wouldn't be dragged around at their whim either. This life, no matter how short, was hers. If they wanted obedience, they would not have crafted her the way they did when her soul was still just a malleable ball of potential in their hands.

Nephele awaits any further comments from the woman, though her hazel eyes trail towards their companion, intending to say hello before she departs if only to satisfy her curiosity.

Nephele

Roana Steadman
Soldier

Age: 35 | Height: 5'8" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
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#7
"It is a pleasure to meet you Nephele." Roana said with a small smile.

But as the Fae waxes philosophical, the former Captain dropped her vibrant blue gaze in quiet consideration, greatly respecting the Fae's council. Mort and Vi both loved life but had opposing views of it, yet lived in harmony. It resonated with her on a level the woman surely didn't intend. She loved life and so did Amalia, but they came to different conclusions as to how to best preserve it. Was there lack of harmony just... personal? Because they were human? And ultimately, as much as she didn't like the solution Ludo presented? Did it conflict with her morals?

It was scary to admit that in reality, it didn't.

She had said when the barrier fell, when it came to light how they'd been played, how the Voice had used them to free herself to do as she wished again - and after which the blight followed - that she would fix the wrong she had helped cause. She had to keep the Voice from being able to terrorize the people of Caido - and the way she did so was by sending the Ascended out to do her dirty work, knowingly or otherwise. It was no different than any other war she had fought - the enemy was just less diverse.

She tilted her head to look at the Fae again, smiling warmly. "Thank you, Nephele. Your council is wise and I appreciate it. It's...very helpful to me."
Roana
Said I'll always be your friend
Took an oath, imma stick it out to the end
Nephele Amoret
the Meadowhawk


Age: 60 | Height: 5'0 | Race: Fae | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Greatwood
Level: 3 - Strg: 11 - Dext: 14 - Endr: 24 - Luck: 3 - Int:
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#8

there she was, all dressed in adventure, straddling the edge of a star

Whatever the woman takes from her ranting, it is none of Nephele's business, and she doesn't care enough to find out. Instead she merely nods politely, a vapid smile barely twitching on her lips. "You're welcome," she says softly instead, because it is the only truth she can safely say. Her wings unfurl from her back, stretching to the corners of the sky, releasing the tension coiled in her spine. Then they begin to beat, a soft hum of sound as her feet lift naturally from the earth, idly shifting her fiery hair over one shoulder.

"May your planting go well," she says in departure, a small flick of her wrist and a ghost of a smile on her face as she waves goodbye. She drifts across the scorched earth away from the dark haired maiden and her questions. Instead, Nephele is drawn to the distant hooded figure planting a rose of their own. Pauses and hovers nearby, hoping to catch their eyes if they deign to look up.

Part of Neph says she should stay and at least try to engage in niceties, but somewhere in the Village her sister is sickly, and the rose in her bag is a potential cure. So she merely gives a nod towards Wessex, whose name is still lost to her, and then flies off from this graveyard of a wasteland. Back to the forest that she intends to heal, to protect. From the Blight and these Outlanders alike.

---

Feel free to post one more time or end here!


Nephele



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