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Timorridwyn</b>--a solitary continent, surrounded by two main oceans and few seas, had the resemblance of China. For centuries the humans and elves harbored long-standing tensions with each other, ones where bloodshed and mutiny were often spilled as a result. Thousands of innocent lives were slaughtered--for what? Because of old tradition and disgusting pride? Stories were often told among the races, though it depended on the perspective on who told them. Today, Timorridwyn holds strong; its lush continent is filled with abundant resources. Treaties had been passed some years ago, outlawing the antiquated customs. All seemed quiet and peaceful. But of course, most people knew that when things became<i>too </i>quiet, suspicions and rumors were likely to circulate. The common civilians of both races would become irritable blackbirds gathering at their congregations of taverns and of social courts. Entertainment to them was not very likely, not after the bloody treaties. Hatred was still present, but not nearly as talked about. Over the years, humans and elves would coexist with one another. While most tolerated the transitions, others were aloof toward them.<br/><br/>This realistic dichotomy intrigued the attention of two rival kings. The Human king staked claim on Triskelmeen, while the Elven king took Tearyolen. The territories were equally distributed, but both males grew extremely bored, so they decided to conspire with one another to hire their best fighters and assassins to compete against one another. Call it a territory war game. At first this game posed as a way for both races to enjoy the thrill of combat without murdering one another in brutal fashion. The premise was that each month, human and elf were set to battle against one another. The victor would drive the other one out of commission, until only one winner remains standing. While it seemed like a simple concept, there were those who took it to a whole other level, leaving many to go all-out, berserker style. While both rulers were not entirely proud of such violent methods, they made sure to keep these implementations in covert manners.<br/><br/><b><a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fs-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com%2F564x%2F95%2F62%2Fcd%2F9562cdb950153eeeb206f15785519588.jpg&amp;hash=2d945f4606d736733982100a6a379ee7" href="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/95/62/cd/9562cdb950153eeeb206f15785519588.jpg" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">Tanyl Ralith</a> </b>was hired on as a personal favorite of the Elven king. She never partook in the monthly games, but she was mostly there to keep balance and order, to make sure all participants kept themselves in line. However, there was one minor setback. She was neither full human or elf, but a half-breed, a mutt. She was ridiculed on both sides and thought that if she were to train diligently, she would make something of herself. Though as of late, over on the other side things, she mostly had a particular target to worry about, a human in particular. He always kept her on her toes, for sport. Her intuition told her that it had something to do with someone pulling his strings as well. Whether she knew it or not, both kings were planning something much greater than these monthly games, but for now, the soldier is to obediently follow orders, never questioning the one in command.<br/><br/><b>Currently, </b>Tanyl was enjoying a nice drink of mead at a neighboring tavern. She was familiar with the territory and was welcomed in this particular establishment as opposed to the one twenty miles north. The half-elf stood at five-foot-six; a distinct three-clawed scar was located at her right eye from a previous quest when she was twenty-one. She was inexperienced and brash then. A few years later, patience caught up to her and she developed tact in her current occupation. Her roots take her back to a minor race of Woodland elves, which explained the protrusions from the front of her head. Her hair was the color of a golden sunset with hues of orange. Her eyes were an intense chartreuse. She donned a jade green cape and a chocolate, leather tight armor suit with matching ankle flat boots for ease of running and chasing down the enemy.<br/><br/>She tuned out most of the commotion within her immediate surroundings while enjoying her night off. She situated herself at one of the wooden tables that seated two. Unfortunately, Tanyl didn't keep many friends. Most of them were back at her hometown, near the Salt Mire. A brief sigh escaped her lips. She had been playing this game of cat and mouse with her target over the course of a few weeks. Stress did not take kindly to her, which was why she found comfort in drinking spirits. She was nearly finished with her drink when one of regulars bumped into her. He was an older elven archer, probably in his mid-thirties. At first he noticed the exotic look in her eyes, but after a few moments of awkward observance, he made a scoff and walked the other way. Her eyes glimmered and resembled too much of a human. Her body wasn't slim enough of an elf's either. Such was the dilemma of a half-breed. Then, a familiar voice called out to Ms. Tanyl. It was Bellos, a sanguine, elderly man, and human at that. Her eyes traveled to the man as she waved him over. He instantly saw that her goblet was empty and immediately catered to the dear lady and refilled her glass.<br/><br/>"Feeling downhearted, Malady, Tanyl?" he inquired sympathetically. "You know, you could always give up on your current job and settle down, just a thought."<br/><br/>Of course, it was very tempting for her to concur, but she was way too prideful. She secretly loved her adventurous life, despite the constant badgering of her being a female fighter. She had her own reasons why she traded her comfortable life for a dangerous one.<br/><br/>"Thank you for your concern, Bellos, but you can see that I'm alive and doing well," she said, smiling, but somehow it was half contrived.<br/><br/>"Very well. Enjoy your evening," he bowed slightly and ushered back to the bar area. Her eyes curiously glanced at the sudden increased number of patrons entering the tavern. Though out of the corner of her eye, she almost had to do a double take. Did she just see the man whom she abhorred pass her by? It could have been a figment of her imagination. She concluded to rent out a room from The Burgundy Inn. She just needed to sober up first. Hopefully, the seemingly familiar man was just another local, a doppelganger and<b>not </b>her rival. She was off the clock...