Post by tarlin on Jul 29, 2020 16:53:59 GMT
Age: Unknown
Gender: Female
Birthplace: Unknown
Waking up on the shores of an unknown land, Tarlin searches her mind and her physical surroundings for some sense of her location. Noticing signs with the words of a language she understands, she reads about the town of Keldor. This is a familiar name, although she is unsure why. Attempting to search her memories for the familiarity of the name, a flash of white hot pain courses through her head. A confounding amount of visions, broken thoughts, whispers and pain fill her mind and her body. Overwhelmed by the onslaught to her soul, she falls helpless and passes out in the grass by a fountain inside the city. Awakening once again, she shakes of the confusion of the events. Were these memories? Were this stories told from childhood? Was this the cruel mentality of a delusional and insane woman?
As she contemplates her thoughts and her feelings, a voice is heard in the distance. An accent she is not familiar with from a ship maker of the island. She is quickly greeted, and is toured through the areas. A connection is formed immediately and she has found her home in the village of Silvirnenniel with her new mentor Sweeperkass. Her desire for understanding purpose and reconstruction of her past has led Sweeper to show her to the altar of the Gods. The revered white light of the North. Embarking on their journey, she finds herself overwhelmed with the noise and whisper of a slew of voices. They are familiar from some place, yet they memory of where is almost completely removed from memory. The journey takes a vicious toll on her mentality, and just as she feels like falling into a dark void, the knarr that they are sitting upon bumps into the beach, jolting her to reality. As she gazes through the trees upon the altar of the gods, the white light beaming forth from it high into the heavens, the noise stops abruptly! She approaches and falls to her knees infront of the altar. A figure approaches in front of her, a mountainous man, ripe with age and wisdom, skin worn from battle and adorning the scars of a life of servitude.
All other aspects of the world having fallen from her vision, all Tarlin can see is the form of the man in front of her. She searches for the words to ask his name, and no words are found flowing from her mouth. As if on queue, the voice responds to her unspoken question, "I am Hestlin my child, and we knew each other well. Do not concern yourself with the how or the why, just understand that you have returned and your purpose will reveal itself to you." As she listens to Hestlin speak, a figure emerges behind him to the right. "This is DragonWarrior, a renowned priest of mine in these lands. One day you will seek guidance from him, but that day is not today." As if a rupture between the heavens and the physical earth beneath her had just formed a crag in her head, the figure of Hestlin vanishes. Tarlin, left razzled and confused, looks up Sweeper who seems confused and startled as she stands from her prayers. "Did you find the knowledge you seek?" Sweeper asks. "I have, and I am beginning to understand.... I think." Leaving what she just experienced unspoked, she briefly greets DragonWarrior who is deep in prayer himself, but takes a moment to smile upon her before returning to prayer. "That smile?!" Thought Tarlin. Did DragonWarrior know of Hestlin's visit to her just now? Did he see Hestlin as well? Does he know who she is? "Now is not the time", the voice of Hestlin echoes in her head.
Brushing the dirt from her knees, she approaches the knarr that Sweeper transported her to the altar on. Stopping just short of the knarr in the water, she is overwhelmed by memory. The island they passed, the mists on the borders beyond, a strange flapping of wings... heavy wings.... above her head, a grip firmly around her shoulders as she is carried above the lands. "What is this?" Tarlin asks frightfully. The voice of the creature above her speaks with a voice that knows a life greater and longer than any she had ever met, an ancient knowledge can be heard in the tone as the creature speaks, "You have great purpose in this world child. The drakes have been forced into war by Lutrief, you are no longer safe here. Do not be afraid. I have been appointed as your guardian and we venture beyond the mists and the fogs that surround Vrystoria. We venture to a land that has not been discovered by the evil that is showing itself here. Dalmonith lies outside the shrouded veil around this land waiting for the opportunity to seize power, and you must be ready when the time comes. Do not be discouraged child, a greatness awaits you in...." Tarlins face becomes covered in the warm substance that was the drakes life. Frightened she realizes they are plummeting through the mist, she cries out in fear hearing her childish voice echoing between her ears.
In one last effort to protect her, the great drake surrounds Tarlin with his wings as they crash into the sea, just short of some sort of sandy surface. "Swim, run, do not turn back!" The drake says as he draws his last breath. Tarlin see's the massive arrow bolt that had been thrust, from something in the mist, between the drakes shoulders. "Where did it come from? Why would someone kill a drake?" As Tarlin thinks to comprehend what is happening she catches a glimmer from within the mist. A massive presence begins to sail through the mist, a figure with no discernable features, gazing upon her from the stern of the massive floating object. "Run!" she remembers the drake saying in it's dying breath. Tarlin finds her feet in the sand and runs ashore... this land is nothing like anything that stories have ever been told of. Disoriented, confused, scared, just a child she runs straight for as long and as fast as she can....
Feeling a hand on her shoulder, she awakes. "We are home, did you sleep well?" Sweeper asks her. "Ships! We must build ships! We must prepare ourselves to fight. The ships must be ready!" She decries as she jumps off the knarr.
(Is she just crazy?)
Gender: Female
Birthplace: Unknown
Waking up on the shores of an unknown land, Tarlin searches her mind and her physical surroundings for some sense of her location. Noticing signs with the words of a language she understands, she reads about the town of Keldor. This is a familiar name, although she is unsure why. Attempting to search her memories for the familiarity of the name, a flash of white hot pain courses through her head. A confounding amount of visions, broken thoughts, whispers and pain fill her mind and her body. Overwhelmed by the onslaught to her soul, she falls helpless and passes out in the grass by a fountain inside the city. Awakening once again, she shakes of the confusion of the events. Were these memories? Were this stories told from childhood? Was this the cruel mentality of a delusional and insane woman?
As she contemplates her thoughts and her feelings, a voice is heard in the distance. An accent she is not familiar with from a ship maker of the island. She is quickly greeted, and is toured through the areas. A connection is formed immediately and she has found her home in the village of Silvirnenniel with her new mentor Sweeperkass. Her desire for understanding purpose and reconstruction of her past has led Sweeper to show her to the altar of the Gods. The revered white light of the North. Embarking on their journey, she finds herself overwhelmed with the noise and whisper of a slew of voices. They are familiar from some place, yet they memory of where is almost completely removed from memory. The journey takes a vicious toll on her mentality, and just as she feels like falling into a dark void, the knarr that they are sitting upon bumps into the beach, jolting her to reality. As she gazes through the trees upon the altar of the gods, the white light beaming forth from it high into the heavens, the noise stops abruptly! She approaches and falls to her knees infront of the altar. A figure approaches in front of her, a mountainous man, ripe with age and wisdom, skin worn from battle and adorning the scars of a life of servitude.
All other aspects of the world having fallen from her vision, all Tarlin can see is the form of the man in front of her. She searches for the words to ask his name, and no words are found flowing from her mouth. As if on queue, the voice responds to her unspoken question, "I am Hestlin my child, and we knew each other well. Do not concern yourself with the how or the why, just understand that you have returned and your purpose will reveal itself to you." As she listens to Hestlin speak, a figure emerges behind him to the right. "This is DragonWarrior, a renowned priest of mine in these lands. One day you will seek guidance from him, but that day is not today." As if a rupture between the heavens and the physical earth beneath her had just formed a crag in her head, the figure of Hestlin vanishes. Tarlin, left razzled and confused, looks up Sweeper who seems confused and startled as she stands from her prayers. "Did you find the knowledge you seek?" Sweeper asks. "I have, and I am beginning to understand.... I think." Leaving what she just experienced unspoked, she briefly greets DragonWarrior who is deep in prayer himself, but takes a moment to smile upon her before returning to prayer. "That smile?!" Thought Tarlin. Did DragonWarrior know of Hestlin's visit to her just now? Did he see Hestlin as well? Does he know who she is? "Now is not the time", the voice of Hestlin echoes in her head.
Brushing the dirt from her knees, she approaches the knarr that Sweeper transported her to the altar on. Stopping just short of the knarr in the water, she is overwhelmed by memory. The island they passed, the mists on the borders beyond, a strange flapping of wings... heavy wings.... above her head, a grip firmly around her shoulders as she is carried above the lands. "What is this?" Tarlin asks frightfully. The voice of the creature above her speaks with a voice that knows a life greater and longer than any she had ever met, an ancient knowledge can be heard in the tone as the creature speaks, "You have great purpose in this world child. The drakes have been forced into war by Lutrief, you are no longer safe here. Do not be afraid. I have been appointed as your guardian and we venture beyond the mists and the fogs that surround Vrystoria. We venture to a land that has not been discovered by the evil that is showing itself here. Dalmonith lies outside the shrouded veil around this land waiting for the opportunity to seize power, and you must be ready when the time comes. Do not be discouraged child, a greatness awaits you in...." Tarlins face becomes covered in the warm substance that was the drakes life. Frightened she realizes they are plummeting through the mist, she cries out in fear hearing her childish voice echoing between her ears.
In one last effort to protect her, the great drake surrounds Tarlin with his wings as they crash into the sea, just short of some sort of sandy surface. "Swim, run, do not turn back!" The drake says as he draws his last breath. Tarlin see's the massive arrow bolt that had been thrust, from something in the mist, between the drakes shoulders. "Where did it come from? Why would someone kill a drake?" As Tarlin thinks to comprehend what is happening she catches a glimmer from within the mist. A massive presence begins to sail through the mist, a figure with no discernable features, gazing upon her from the stern of the massive floating object. "Run!" she remembers the drake saying in it's dying breath. Tarlin finds her feet in the sand and runs ashore... this land is nothing like anything that stories have ever been told of. Disoriented, confused, scared, just a child she runs straight for as long and as fast as she can....
Feeling a hand on her shoulder, she awakes. "We are home, did you sleep well?" Sweeper asks her. "Ships! We must build ships! We must prepare ourselves to fight. The ships must be ready!" She decries as she jumps off the knarr.
(Is she just crazy?)