Radiant Water - EverQuest  [Idariel with Rocknrolla]
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Exotic Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Idariel on 27-08-2011, 10:45:05</h2>
		<dl id="posts">
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Radiant Water - EverQuest  [Idariel with Rocknrolla]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Idariel</strong> on <strong>27-08-2011, 10:45:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://i55.tinypic.com/2iuzwoi.jpg)</div> <br><span style="font-size: 12pt;" class="bbc_size">Aoife Kyla “Radiant Water”</span><br><br><br><strong>Race:</strong>&nbsp; A Greater Water Fae<br><br><br><strong>Classes:</strong>&nbsp; Bard 15/Mage 15 … a scattering of other, lesser classes half remembered.<br><br><br><strong>Sex/Age:</strong>&nbsp; F – she has lived through two ages. Although she does not recall most of this time, her eyes are haunted by that endless passage of time. Her body appears otherwise untouched by the years that have flown past her.<br><br><br><strong>Height/Weight:</strong> She is a slender 5'6, with the slightly attenuated look common to Fae, as if – as indeed is the case – they are made more of magic, then of flesh. She has a generous bosom and the fit, toned body of a competitive swimmer.<br><br><br><strong>Hair:</strong> Midnight blue at roots, to silver at ends. Blues and greens in a pleasant, shimmery blend between.<br><br><br><strong>Eyes:</strong> Liquid fire. Deep blue with swirling silver flakes.<br><br><br><strong>Other:</strong> Her scent is of silver, fresh water and mint. She tastes of ice; smooth, aged whiskey and power. Her rare laughter is a light bubbling song of joy, her stormy smile is intense, a touch wild.<br><br><br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Character:</div><div class="spoiler_body">Kyla has a powerful compassion for the forest creatures who have been her friends for so long. She is impulsive and a touch bad tempered, with a wild nature that lends itself to drowning people first and asking questions later.<br>Being a nature spirit, she does not like to be indoors. She loves wild weather, dancing in thunderstorms and (of course) swimming.<br>Touch is still a wonder to her and pain a terrible shock.<br>She desperately needs to heal the Faydark Forest ... before she and all those like her are swallowed up into the curse.<br>Like all Fae, she cannot lie or break her given word.</div></div><br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Statistics:</div><div class="spoiler_body">This is not truly a system game … the statistics are merely to give a feel for relative abilities.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<br><strong>Strength:</strong>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;14&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<br><strong>Dexterity:</strong> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;20&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<br><strong>Constitution:</strong>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;16&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<br><strong>Intelligence:</strong>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;24&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<br><strong>Wisdom:</strong> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;16&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<br><strong>Charisma:</strong> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;28</div></div>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Description:</div><div class="spoiler_body"> Her skin is a soft, silvery blue, oddly cool to the touch. It is uncannily smooth, without blemish or bump save where she has been scarred by cold iron. She bears a mark around her left wrist, a rough, silvery scar tissue upon the bottoms of her otherwise flawless feet and upon the back of her right ear. Her nails are fine, tiny spikes of purest silver, her toenails broader, gentler but also silver, not merely the color – the metal. <br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Her eyebrows are high and arching, her cheekbones fine, her lips soft – yet angry. Her ears are long, slender and pointed. Her narrow eyes are liquid fire. Deep blue with silver flecks swirling in their depths, like staring into a dangerous mountain lake on a clear, moonless night. Her very expression whispers of secrets best left undiscovered.<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;At its roots, her hair is a deep, deep, midnight blue, almost black … as it grows out, it moves through all of the colors of water, from the deadly cold water deep beneath the arctic icepack through to the light, silvery radiance of a waterfall in the sunlight, with every shade of blue or green that water has ever been in between. Her hair, like many of the older Fae, is a powerful spell component, useful in divination of all kinds. Whilst touching her hair, there is a small chance of an emotional or mental connection, permitting a momentary glimpse into her heart or mind.<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Like most powerful Fae, her wings are magical. When she calls them forth, they are knitted of water and power, the lines of mana within them sparkling and glowing. To touch them, is to touch a wish, the taste moonlight, the scent a cool mountain spring. Sometimes … she will know the wish in the heart of the one who dares touch her wings.<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;A faint, star-like radiance, commonly known as pixie or faerie dust, sheds from her under conditions when an ordinary mortal would sweat or have skin flake off. It can be triggered by stress, exercise or ill health. This dust is also highly desired by those pursuing the magical arts.</div></div><br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">History:</div><div class="spoiler_body"> Kyla does not clearly recall her origins. Her first memory is a joyous one, the first awareness of self when she was but a new-emerged, natural spring centered on a place of power. For a long, long time she was merely a semi-sentient river, blessing those who respected her and cursing those who did not. As time passed, she yearned to communicate more clearly, to speak to those creatures and plants who drew nourishment from her. As the complexity and power of those who lived within her domain grew, so too did her intellect and ability to be embodied. She learned to befriend unicorns and centaurs, dragons and gryphons. Ents sang at her waterfalls and Dryads danced in her pools. As with all gifts of the Fae, there was a price for her freedom. <br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Her new body brought with it her first sensations of pain and loss. For not long after her corporeal shape was formed, the forest was cursed. The bright, beautiful harmony of life was strained past the normal predator/prey balance as war intruded. Somewhere, at sometime, during the ensuing bloodshed, the golden bark of the native oaks and the silver trunk of the beautiful aspens became darkened to a ruined, bruised color of dried blood. <br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Kyla knew not what occurred, or why, for her birth place was deep in the Lesser Faydark Forest, which had known no 'civilized' races … and therefore no war … for all of her long existence. At long last, a Faerie dragon who liked to clutch along her river brought her word: other races had come to the Greater Faydark and in their greed and impulsiveness shed Fae blood. Too much of it … balance was broken.<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And so Kyla's long watch began, with the creatures of her world bringing her news of the invasion of the orcs. Of the arrival of the elves – tolerated, for the elves also opposed the orcs. Of the endlessly fertile and vicious humans, who preyed on both. The dwarves, greedy deep-dwellers who tore apart the earth herself and gnomes, carelessly magical and haphazard.<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;All of the races seemed the same to her, greedy, impulsive – and brutally untrustworthy. So when the so-called dark races emerged, the lizard-like Iksar, giant Ogre,&nbsp; hungry Troll and their ilk, she saw no difference between the two sides. Tier'dal (dark elf) or Koa'dal (high elf), neither one kept their treaties. As soon as a ruler stepped down, it was all to be decided again. And always, always, they wanted more. More then what had been agreed upon. Treacherous, clever, the elven folk knew the Queen of the Fae could not herself break a treaty and abused that knowledge.<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Dark or Light, casters of every sort sought Pixie Wings, Faerie Dust, Dryad Hair. They were heart-blind, unable to tell by touch if such things were willingly gifted, or torn from the dying body of a Fae creature. <br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;She hated them, one and all. She hid her place from their sight, succored their enemies and sought an end to the great Blight upon her land. The Fae grew fewer and fewer as more races emerged to hunt them. The cat-like Vah Shir, the magical Erudite, the dragon-kin Sarnak. And always, with each befouling presence, the forest grew weaker, and the Blight stronger.<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Now she grows frightened, indeed … for a taint has entered her river and she cannot cleanse it.</div></div>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Radiant Water - EverQuest  [Idariel with Rocknrolla]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Idariel</strong> on <strong>27-08-2011, 10:46:38</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://i55.tinypic.com/2iuzwoi.jpg)</div><span style="font-size: 12pt;" class="bbc_size">Aoife Kyla “Radiant Water,”</span>&nbsp; A Greater Water Fae<br><br><br>Silvery nails flickered in moonlight as she soothingly stroked the fur of the blood-covered spirit wolf at her side. Kyla extended her song, surrounding him in its power, each stroke of her hand coating him in Faerie Dust. The Dust soothed him, enhanced his magic, restored his mana. But like all gifts of the Greater Fae, it had a dark side. Each moment he hesitated, each instant that she touched him, bound him further to her. <br><br><strong>“Yes, yes, dear one,”</strong> Her voice was a soothing, lilting seduction. <strong> “… listen to your spirit guardians. They are not pleased that you have been working with the enemy.”</strong> She felt the moment when the last of the civilized corruption left him. Heard the whispers of his guardian spirits as she locked him into his true form, Wolf. No more time would be lost in his two-footed form; he belonged to her, now. To her and the Lesser Faydark Forest. She smiled and her newest companion shivered in delight as her hand continued to stroke over him. <br><br>She could not ensnare everyone who displeased her, but any who shaped into a forest creature or took into themselves a spirit of the forest opened themselves also to her power. It was a matter of will, and of fate … and of the former shaman's spirit animals deeply disapproving of his actions.<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<br>Movement caught her eye, a mere flash of true black in the shadowy gray of the forest. They were foolish, these city-rogues. They stank of poisons and filth and dressed in false colors that betrayed their ignorance. She lifted a silver tinted hand and pointed. The Wolf at her side snarled hate and raced after his new prey. By tomorrow, he wouldn't even remember that he'd ever been on the other side.<br><br>She watched impassively as the Wolf tore the throat out of the rogue, and then howled his triumph. She frowned, for fire once more flickered in the mountain valley where the corruption was focused. She concentrated a moment and powerful, silvery wings formed along her shoulder blades. Three elegant wing sweeps ghosted her into the air, to observe how the rest of her attack was going. It was a relief, to no longer be standing … her feet still burned and ached form the foulness of the earth here. The corruption in the soil ate into her flesh like acid, scaring her. She could not remain this close for long, and she dared not go closer.<br><br>She attacked at night, because the humans befouling her woods were afraid of the dark. Even with only moonlight, she could see the vicious, inexplicable damage they were doing. Two large gashes now marred the earth, shored up with oak beams that still screamed at her for vengeance. Why did they use cold iron and ancient heart-oak to support pits which the humans randomly flood and then drained? The motives of the Erudite Mages and Dark Elven Priests were obvious: they would do anything to hunt Fae. Such was the nature of the 'civilized' that they cared not where they got their Dryad Locks, Faerie Dust or Pixie Wings. All they cared for … all any of them wanted … was power.<br><br>She howled in rage and summoned a storm to smash upon them, but their buildings were filled with cold iron and other alien substances. Her storm put out the fire in their hateful, cultivated fields, stopping the threat to the forest, but it did little else. <br><br>Her army of giant spiders had breached the walls of their town and scurried amongst the enemy, but lacked the strength to actually damage the buildings or to fill in the terrible gashes in the Forest floor. <br><br>Her wasps had harried the main force of men who had come to challenge her with their axes and shovels, driving them back into the horrid town. They could not enter her Forest … but she could not drive them away.<br><br>And they did not need to find her, in order to kill her.<br><br>The acidic soil they created, the poisons they careless spilled into the water were leaching life from the forest and from her.<br><br>Her scream of rage this time echoed with fear and desperation, a banshee's cry of&nbsp; woe. Two men fell, but it would not be sufficient. She could not slay them fast enough. More men then she had killed tonight had arrived just yesterday upon the hated, dead path the first to arrive had cut into her land. They had salted it … somehow taking that which healed and preserved food and turning it into a trap that killed life whilst it was still in the seed. Abomination. <br><br>She would not send in the unicorn, for the mare had just given birth. She was forbidden by the Fae Queen to turn the Fae on this camp, and she was not -yet- so desperate as to drive the mindless, undead minions of Castle Mistmoor at her enemy. She studied the enemy intently, then called for the gryphons to retreat. She had lost this round. She needed something more.<br><br>She flew swiftly through the night, unconcerned that they might see her, for her magics were good at concealing her from view, and her song made her fly faster then most dragons. She landed at her favorite pool, and studied the water intently. Yes, it was still safe here. Only then did she settle her acing, burning feet into the water.<br><br>Perhaps she should consider the Vampires of Mistmoor. They offered her no threat, for she was formed of magic, silver and free-flowing holy water. She sighed deeply and stirred the water with her foot, teasing the neriads* who played there in. They were young yet, and weak. When would they begin to sicken?<br><br>*Water Nymphs<br>
			</dd>
		</dl>
		<div id="footer" class="smalltext">
			
			<span class="smalltext" style="display: inline; visibility: visible; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif;"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?action=credits" title="Simple Machines Forum" target="_blank" class="new_win">SMF 2.0.19</a> |
 <a href="https://www.simplemachines.org/about/smf/license.php" title="License" target="_blank" class="new_win">SMF © 2021</a>, <a href="https://www.simplemachines.org" title="Simple Machines" target="_blank" class="new_win">Simple Machines</a>
			</span>
		</div>