Fourstones RP Thread

The courtyard was lined up with thirty-nine wooden chairs from the Dining Hall. It wasn't snowing today, and it was the perfect weather to hold the Goodbye -- a tradition at The Croft Orphanage, once a year children that come of age or need to find their way in the world as independents go through the ceremony. This year it was a relatively large class of Goodbyes -- ten was practically a record. The younger orphans, ranging from babies to teenagers themselves, sat in the rows of chairs. They weren't yet ready to leave Silvershrine, and some of them would never be. The tight-knit, charitable community was one of the most desirable places in Frost. There were thirty four orphans, excluding the ten that were leaving this year. The other five chairs were for the staff at the Orphanage. There was the owner, Svana of the Croft lineage. She was a stern-looking woman withered down by age at seventy-five. The cook, the maid, Svana's husband Igmund, and the groundskeeper, their grandson, sat next to her.

The Orphanage surrounded the courtyard; it was a medium-sized building made of dark stone, like the rest of Silvershrine. The courtyard was decorated with winter foliage and a modest looking walkway; there were four benches in the yard, and the ten graduates were seated at them. Each of different race, background, and height, they made a colorful bunch. The old woman Svana got up from her chair with help from her husband, and walked in front of them. She turned to face the rest of the Orphans. Some looked at her attentively; others were bored of the same routine every year.

"It has come to be that time again at Croft Orphanage," She rasped, standing still and stiff. At this point, Igmund had dozed off in his chair. For an eighty year old Gray who had stayed awake until four, it was a new personal best. She pretended not to notice. "And with the Goodbye, we must say farewell to some of our friends. Nay, our family." The speech was the same every year. "We have come to know and love every last one of these fine examples of Frost's youth, but as with all good things, they must go." She didn't actually know any of their names, but she did care for them in her Svana-way.

"They must go, to become independent citizens of this fine province."

A strange sound came from the distance -- a sound from the sky. A piercing, birdlike call.

"Just as we did the children before them, we wish them good luck."

A rumbling. A definite sound. This time from the ground. Perhaps an earthquake? No, that only happened on the Isles and in the Redlands. What was going on?

"Luck in their endeavors; luck in whatever they choose to become."

A horn blew from directly outside the city.

"And in whatever they do, may the gods guide them."

- - - - - -

The Gray named Yngvar was a Rebel; a freedom-fighter, dedicated to ousting the Witch-Queen Voada from Fourstone. He was a tall, pale, husky man, with blond hair that fell down his neck. His armor was all bear and fox fur, and he had a steel warhammer on a strap on his back. He fought in the ways of the Barbarian, powerful and aggressive. His fur hood was pulled up over his head, and he stood guard of the fine city of Silvershrine. For all its charcoal gray stone and chilly atmosphere, he called it home, and he would give his life to protect his home. He would do anything for Silvershrine; anything for Frost. Silvershrine had not seen skirmish or battle in the 50 years since Voada came to power. Yngvar's warhammer thirsted for blood. And it was high time it got what it wanted.

He was staring into the sky; his associates and friends on the guard, Balimund and Agata, both Grays, stood at his side. They were chatting idly. Yngvar saw something in the distance. It started out a a black dot, before expanding into something far more terrifying. As the horn sounded from directly outside the walls of the city, Yngvar's eyes widened. "Sound the alarm! We are under attack!" He called, snapping Balimund and Agata out of their daze. Balimund rushed to the white horn the Gray used, and made a sound to accompany the one from outside. "Alma, save us."

From his perch on the guard's watchtower, he could see the entire mass. It was half an army, filled with goblins and orcs riding droths. These were foreign creatures to the natural world; creatures of the Shadowlands, creatures only witches could summon. Creatures that had somehow came here on a one-way trip, rather than dissipating like normal conjured creatures do. They could only be one thing; The Witch-Queen had decided it was time to lay siege on Silvershrine.

In the air, Orcs and Tribal warriors rode on wyverns. Their birdlike cries grew stronger as the aerial attack reach the city; Balimund was one of the first to go. A wyvern flew by, dropping an Orc on the watchtower. It cut out the Gray warrior's throat, before getting hit with the hilt of Agata's axe. She looked at Balimund's body. He was her husband.

"No time to mourn," cried Yngvar, as the two rushed down the stairs of the gray tower. "Archers! Take out the wyverns!" He ordered the guards on the main floor. They grabbed their Gray bow -- thick and sturdy, much like the people of Frost -- and began firing through the glassless windows in the fort. The horn abruptly stopped. Panicked cries from within the city filled Yngvar's ears; he and Agata rushed out of the tower. The gates had been opened, and a flood of goblins, orcs, droths, and harpies reigned hell on Silvershrine, the kind religious city.

Yngvar was petrified. He swung his warhammer at goblins left and right, killing them with relative ease. He noticed that when they died/were knocked out, they did not dissipate like regular summoned creatures, sent back to the Shadowlands. They were permanently on Fourstone. It was a cringe-worthy thought. He turned -- Agata had just killed a harpy successfully, but was crushed by the force of a wyvern diver from the sky. It reared, hissing madly at Yngvar. He ran towards it, only to be cut on the chest. Perhaps fur armor wasn't the best defense. Ignoring his wounds, he struck it once. . . and the beast blasted him with a spoke of ice, immobilizing him.

Yngvar, Rebel Captain, died on the cold stone of Silvershrine.

- - - - - - -

At the sound of the horn, the orphans began to cry. The young ones could not be settled. Svana became even more rigid, a commanding air in her voice. "Older children, take the young'ns to the cellar. Now!" She snapped. The cellar was in the courtyard -- they had often waited out blizzards in it. There was preserved food, sleeping cots, and a fireplace down there. They would be safe. "Go with them, Camilla," She told the Fair cook, who nodded. "You to, Hongvar, Hroki," she nodded at her grandson and the maid. 'Make sure your grandfather makes it.' She didn't say it, but the look she gave Hongvar said she meant it.

Yvara, a young Tribal graduate, stood up from the bench. She looked at Svana sadly. "What about us?" she asked, tears in her eyes. She was scared from the sounds of the city. She smoothed her brown cloak, holding it around her like a blanket.

"You? You're adults now. No longer my responsibility," Svana said coldly. What she meant was she had to take care of the children. Not the adults. "I'd suggest running, maybe even hiding." With a speed quicker than an old woman should have, she ran into the orphanage to collect things for the cellar.

Unexpectedly, Igmund, Svana's husband, appeared seemingly out of nowhere. "I knew this day would come," He motioned for the kids to follow him, arthritic hand waving in the air. "Come with me. There is a tunnel out of the city. I'll get you set up, and you will be on your own. Go to the town of Iceport, a village west of here on the ocean. I'll give you gold to buy supplies. Take a boat to the Redlands. You will find answers there." His voice was old and forced.

((OOC: Welcome to the RP!

Our characters will now begin their travels together. First, we will go through the stretch of woods, and make it to the freezing beaches of Frost. We'll get to the village, stay a night in hopes the Queen doesn't travel that quickly, and begin our voyage to the free Redlands. After that. . . a lot more will go on, I'll say. :P ))

Enro blinked, his stare far off, watching the gates. He wondered what would happen, then it hit him.
We must be under siege from the Witch-Queen.. The first time since she's taken power.. the youngest of the graduates thought grimly. He held the old, worn book he owned close to his chest. The worn item was the only possession he owned, and held dear. He turned to look at the cover, and looked at the small inscriptions that were like dents. The inscriptions, in large, fancy letters, wrote;
'Necromancy and the Basis of What it is'
Holding the book close to his chest again, he looked at Igmund weakly. He didn't want to leave with these people he'd known his whole life, though they were utter strangers.
I've grown up with these people, but I have no idea who they are.
He thought evenly, silent in the panic.

Koa had been gazing around, not paying attention to the old orphanage owner's speech. He suspected that he was only allowed to graduate now because he was such a hassle. Svana had probably noticed that many things around the Orphanage were missing. Shivering in his cloak, his thoughts wandered. As soon as this was over, he'd leave. Towards the forest. He'd figure out something then. The horn had brought him to attention though. Chills were sent through his spine at the call, and not from the cold of Frost. This was his opportunity. The rebels would certainly give him a weapon if he was willing to help. They'd certainly need more hands.

But he sat in his seat, unwilling to move. It'd be so much easier to run away. Koa's eyes darted around, looking for an escape route when Igmund caught his attention. Probably for the first time in the fifteen winters he was alive, Koa listened carefully. A tunnel? Out of the city? Koa was quick to move, leaping to his feet and bringing his hands out of the dark colored robes. The Wavefolk boy quickly scanned his fellow graduates. They'd do nothing but attract attention. He had hardly bothered to get to know them, he was often on his own sneaking around Silvershrine. He had no idea where Iceport was and the Redlands had to be as infested by the Witch-Queen's minions as any other place in Fourstone. But where could he go? He didn't have a map nor any sense of direction.
"Damn..." he cursed under his breath. Koa dared a glance at his surroundings. There was no way he'd stay here, at least. He'd figure it out when he got out of Silvershrine.

Tova shot up, her red hair glistened in the slight filters of light from the windows, she frrowned with fear of the sudden blast of the horn, she was deathly afraid but didn't dare show it, she was one who was not of age to decorated "Dang it!" she snorted and launched to her feet, searching frantically for the young ones, they had to get through this, though it may seem almost impossible for what is happening now, her eyes got caught by the fighting but she forced herself to pay her attention to the little ones.

At the first call of a bird, Eira was near the younger orphans, prepared to calm them or protect them- whatever was necessary. She felt a sinking feeling in her stomach as she held a small boy's hand while horns sounded and children's cries filled the air. Chaos was beginning, and she automatically knew what was going on. It has to be the Queen. We must be under attack. Alma help us. She prayed that her friends and everyone in Frost would be safe, but she knew that was to much to ask for. There would be death. There would be grief. And she would have to be strong.

For a fleeting second she wondered if her father would survive- if he was alive at all- but she pushed the thought as the children rose and moved quickly towards the cellar. Still holding tight to the boy's hand, she overheard Igmund speaking and paused. The crowd of frightened children flowed past her, and she felt her hand go cold as the child slipped away towards safety.

An adventure? She bit her lip. There would be dangers beyond what any of them had ever imagined, and it wouldn't be safe. What were the chances of surviving there versus here? She looked around, spotting a few extremely capable healers head towards the cellar. Someone would need to protect the risk taking journeyers, she decided. Eira looked around for Akila. She found it hard to believe her friend would pass up the chance of a battle. "Akila!" Eira called as she moved towards the old man, and her only way out. Was this truly the safest route? Surely not, but she couldn't fight the feeling in her gut that was pushing her towards the tunnel.
Yes, someone needed to take care of these adventures.

And it would be her.

Elden too was quite bored of the speech. He knew it should have been an emotional time for him and his peers, but he really did not get along with the workers. He reached into his jacket, and under his gloved hand, took a sip from a silver flask filled with some alcoholic drink. Perhaps the only person who saw it was his friend Koa, though he'd never rat him out to the authorities about it.
Suddenly, it seemed as if a dark shape formed in the distance. Elden payed no mind to it, but it suddenly revealed itself to be an army, as it got closer. An attack was confirmed, and a battle had started.
Elden hopped up, looked around wildly as to make sure no one was going to stab him. He was weaponless and without proper magic training to fight these attackers. Instead, he saw a man, Igmund, leading his fellow graduates away. He followed hastily, ignoring the cries and crude sounds of battle.

Akila sat in her chair listening to the old woman’s voice. She paid no mind to the speech, she didn't really care. After the this she could get out, and head beck to the Redlands where she could be warm again. She could climb anything she wanted to, and not get in trouble for it. She smiled at her thoughts under her black cloak, when a horn snapped her back to reality.

Akila stood from her chair her black cloak around her, and a shadow cast over her eyes. The Redlander girl shivering from the cold had no time to think about the cold she had to get out of here. She could easily escape using the shadows, but it would take a while. Her friend Eira's voice again snapped her out of her thoughts. She scanned the area for her friend and quickly found her. She was about to go to her friend when she heard the old guy mention something about a tunnel, and a the Redlands.

The Redlander rushed over to her friend and quickly fell in beside her quietly. She looked around trying not to panic, she then whispered to her friend, ”I heard something about the Redlands” She also commented to herself.

Igmund beckoned them onwards, walking towards the back of the orphanage. There was a row of green hedge that separated the orphanage from the city walls; the old Gray approached, pulling his brown tunic around him. He walked right through the hedges, causing them to shimmer slightly. You see, this mysterious old owner of the orphanage was actually a powerful wizard. The hedge was merely an illusion, and it blocked off a boulder that sat on a pile of snow at the very back of the orphanage. The tall stone wall that surrounded the city wrapped around it.

Wyverns and harpies flew in the sky, and shrieks came from all over the city. Most likely, many would die and most would be enslaved under Voada's tyranny. Igmund seemed in a trance-like state; he whispered an incantation, and a blue ball of light flew at the hedges. They disappeared, showing the graduates the other side. With more magic, he revealed ten packs lined up against the wall, piled on top of one another. They were all leather, and the names of each graduate was stitched into the pack.

He turned, facing the awestruck group. "Truth be told, I am a Wizard, as you can see. A master of illusionment," he rasped. He was growing tired, and it wouldn't be long before the orphanage was seized. "Fifty years ago an evil woman came to power. I was just beginning my studies at the College of Wizardry in my home of Whitepeak. I was close friends with a Snow Elf Enchantress there. Her name was Sylvana, and she was quite the powerful seer."

Yvara stood in the middle of the group of teenagers, wondering where the old man was going with this.

"She told me that I would be an instrument of the gods' will. And by Dokoran, she was right," The old man laughed, which turned into a fit of coughing. "On her deathbed, I was instructed to prepare for this day. Each of these bags contain supplies." The leather bags had one strap that wrapped around the shoulder of the carrier. "And something specific for each of you. The visions Sylvana received were vivid, and told me specifically what to give you and what to say to you. I have prepared for nearly fifty years."

The old man looked worn down. He waved his hand at the boulder, and it too disappeared. An old set of stone stairs descended into a tunnel. "Go here. You will make it to the woods surrounding here. Afterward, head straight for Iceport." He opened his palm, and in it formed a scroll. He handed it to Eira, patting her hand as he did.

"You will hold the map, dear girl."


He marked the spot on the map, and it was roughly five miles west, towards the ocean. "Go to the Redlands. Broma. You will find answers there." A bloodcurtling scream came from not too far away. "I must protect my family. Goodbye, and good luck."

Igmund the Wizard died that night.

- - - - -

Each bag is filled with items that will hint towards your characters destiny.

Koa's bag -
Inside Koa's bag, he found a small piece of parchment. On it, written in an inked scrawl, read:
"Some say riches cannot bring fulfillment, Child of the Waves. This is only half true."
He found a thick purse of silver within the bag, as well as a bag full of six lockpicks and one pick, the hilt of which was outlined in gold.

Elden's bag -
Inside Elden's bag is a Spellbook, explaining five minor spells of the Sorcery College. A book mark was found in the form of parchment. The spells are: Creating an ember, sending a bolt of fire, creating a small shield of ice that extends from the ground in front of you, creating a lightning bolt from your fingertips, and extinguishing a fire.
"The elements are yours to command.
Elden also found a sapphire gem the size of a large pebble. It sparkled strangely and felt alive.

Yvara's bag -
Inside Yvara's bag is also a Spellbook; her's, however, is entitled Novice Witchcraft. Three spells are inside - summoning a goblin, summoning a cunning, and summoning a gust of wind. She too has a note.
"Not evil. Just powerful."
Yvara found a black feather in her bag as well.

Tova's bag -
Inside Tova's bag was a necklace, engraved with the symbol of the god Tristan -- the symbol was a shield. She had a note as well.
"All warriors are strong in some way."
She found a needle and thread in her bag as well.

Enro's bag -
Enro's bag was disturbing. He found the clean skeletons of a rat and a sparrow. They were somehow intact. He received a book on the College of Necromancy detailing how to raise a skeleton, and how to absorb someone's health with a spell.
"Sometimes we are misunderstood.
P.s.I call the rat Krea and the sparrow Jet. Raise them when you feel alone."

Akila's bag -
Akila's bag was the only bag with a weapon. She had a clean, steel dagger in her's. It came with a small phial.
"Kill something pretty with this poison and dagger. Embrace your true self, Redlander."

Serana's bag -
Serana's bag had a black arrow in it, and that was all. Excepting the note.
"This arrow will kill her when you get the chance."

Eira's bag -
Eira's bag had two books; one on the school of Theurgy, which had three healing spells for her to learn. The other book was on the mythology of the realm.
"The Four will always be with you."

Silya's bag -
Silya's bag had an arrow in it, quite like Serana's, but her's was wooden and Tree Elf in design. It had a coil of vine wrapped around it.
"Lucky." was all her note said.

- - - - -

When the graduates all entered the tunnel, the boulder reappeared above them. Everyone look in your bags now. ;D

Elden peered into the bag the old man had given him. Everything was going too fast. He took the flash from under his overcoat, taking a swig and examining the contents. A book of spells caught his eye! It was an old brown book that seemed made of leather, with black calligraphy that spelled out one word: "Sorcery."
He flipped through it, thoughj he had only found 5 spells printed in it. The rest of it's many pages were blank, and Elden guessed he had he fill in more spells as he learned them. Nevertheless, the spells he did have were pretty impressive looking, showing how to light fires, create ice, and more.
The elements are yours to command.
He found an unlit torch on the wall, and read the book's first spell.
A Snow Elfen sorcerer, upon wanting to create the element of fire, must first perceive it in his mind. Thou elf must think of fire, repeat the word in his head, long for the fire he wants to make. When he is ready, his body temperature shall rise, and he will be able to outstretch his hand and create thy element.
Elden followed the rules, thinking of fire and longing to create it. He waved his hand towards the unlit torch, and an ember lit on it, illuminating the otherwise darkened stairs.
"I suggest you follow me if you want light." he said to the others, in a voice that sounded much braver than he really was. The sound of battling above him made him fear that evil would discover the exit that they were escaping through, but no sound seemed to be coming close enough.

Tova peered into her's snorting with disgust she was about to say somthing about the sewing kit or whatever but hearing elden say somthing about following him she snorted " Who put you in charge?!' she snapped at him.

Koa stared at the contents of his bag with bewilderment. Lockpicks? He picked the golden pick up and examined it closely. It'd certainly come in handy. But what had Igmund said? These had been prepared for them beforehand? He stared at the pick. Maybe he would stick with these people. It was obvious he had a greater role to play. But with the sounds of people dying above, maybe it was out of guilt. The thought about going back to defend Silvershrine went around his mind, but he put it aside. It was suicide. The Wavefolk boy picked up the purse, weighing it with his hand. It was quite heavy. It'd certainly be enough to buy them whatever they needed, though. He put the materials back in the pack, slinging it around his shoulder. What stood out most in his mind was the scrap of paper.

Some say riches cannot bring fulfillment, Child of the Waves. This is only half true.

A shaky breath escaped his lips and he followed his Elven friend down the stairs, staying within the radius of light and heat that the fire gave off. "Would you rather walk in the dark?" he teased Tova, though it was halfhearted. He was scared out of his mind. He could already tell the ten orphans would get along like five trolls sharing a single wet bed.

Akila examined her bag for a moment, looking at her name on the bag. She carefully opened the bag and reached inside with out look. Big mistake. Her finger happened to come across a sharp point, and when it did it left a mark. ”Ouch...” She said as she recoiled her hand from the bag. She put her finger in her mouth to get the blood off her finger, she then decided to look in the bag this time. She reached her hand in this time to grab the handle of the dagger. She pulled it out and waved it around the light from the now lit touch bouncing off it.

Akila put the handle of her dagger in her mouth to check the bag of more contents. As she reached into the bag, her hand came across a note with a small phial. She read the note with squinted eyes, Kill something pretty? Embrace your true self? She questioned, then she looked at the phial, Poison huh? That will be very useful. She gained a sly smile, as she carefully put the contents back in her back and put it on her shoulder, but still held the dagger in her hand.

Eira had followed after Igmund with wide blue eyes, flashing with orange and white from the flames of battle and the decreasing light of oncoming night. Everything was moving so fast she had to fight hard to keep up. How could one make a hedge appear that wasn't really there? The concept of magic was still so strange to her, but she decided against questioning it. Her father was a Wizard, she remembered, and she wondered for a moment if he could accomplish such an illusion.

Pushing into the front of the group, she curiously spotted her single pack. In elegant white letters her name was sewed on to the bag, marking it as her own. She tore her eyes away from the gifts to look at the old man as he spoke, listening intently, trying to catch and hold every word close to her. She knew what he was saying was extremely important- it meant life and death for her group.

She looked closely at the dark tunnel, biting her lip. Go here. You will make it to the woods surrounding here. Afterward, head straight for Iceport. Their directions. They were important. She had never been to Iceport, and she doubted any of the other orphans had either. What were they to do after that? It wasn't important now.
Eira watched the scroll appear out of thin air, and watch Igmund's hand move towards her own, the scroll in tow. Her eyes were wide with fear and awe as he spoke, and her hands wrapped around the thick paper, squeezing it tight.

You will hold the map, dear girl.

Suddenly she felt a lot more responsible for everyone. But she didn't have a moment to be wary about it all, as the old wizard continued. Go to the Redlands. Broma. You will find answers there. She watched him run off, a sinking feeling in her chest. "Thank you, Igmund..." She called after him, knowing his chances of survive were slim.
Prying her gaze from the Wizard, she grabbed her bag with petite hands and peering inside.
Was it bad to be giddy with excitement at a time like this? Because that the sight of the books, Eira definitely was. She quickly looked at the first, an old leather with only three pages used. Spells.. Magic. These were spells for magic. Her dad used magic. She would be like her dad. It felt strange to have some link to him, and she wasn't certain if she liked it. But then again... Healing spells. She imagined how many people she could help, lives she could save. That was the reason she followed the group, right? To protect them? She stood a bit taller, knowing now she could easily do so.
The next book looked a bit newer, with gold trimming and elegant words, she found it was one solely on mythology. She wasn't exactly sure as to why she would need that, but she knew that any information would be helpful. Maybe this book would save her life.
The Four will always be with you..." She read aloud. She suddenly felt warmer, stronger, and maybe braver too. The four would always be there for her, she knew that now. Her belief could only grow from this day on. Her belief may be the only thing to keep her going.

Glancing at Tova, Eira smiled weakly. "Right now our greatest goal is to get out of here safely." Her voice was soft, but still firm. Quickly, after throwing her pack over her shoulder and pulling her hood up, she walked behind Elden, the darkness ahead unable to breach the light in her heart.

Oh, jeez. No, she couldn't cry. She wasn't going to cry. That wasn't going to happen...
Silya stood along with the others, shaking in her over-sized cloak, her head tilted down as to hide the water coming to her eyes. Normally in the years before, watching the orphans before on the stage, hearing the same old - dull ceremonial words; well... it was pretty obvious just how much she really cared, interrupting with over-drawn yawns and dozing in her chair.

It was different, though, now that she was actually here. Eying a few little kids in the crowd, honestly her closest friends - those who matched her somewhat childish nature. It would suck pretty hard. She didn't know if she'd ever see them again. Maybe that's why she was shivering so much - well one, obviously, because the cold here was so impossible to get used to... but other than that... They made a big deal about how they were "adults" now and how it was time to find their place in the world.

Let's face it. They were just telling them to get their shet together and kicking them to the curb because they didn't have a place anymore - at least according to them. They were either to old or to troublesome - whatever the old lady's excuse was. Silya let out a stubborn little huff at the thought. It shouldn't come as a surprise, really. It happened to her once before. But this time, where would she go? What would she do...?

That's what it was. She was scared. And excited. Extremely excited and scared out of her wits.

She had been lost in her own thoughts, the city alarm had startled her, making her jump. Screams were starting to be heard, both from the kids in the crowd and outside in the city. Large bangs and crashes. What was going on?

Silya hadn't been the least bit of surprised when Svana had brushed them off, suddenly getting angry. That's it? Not one bit of compassion? Who did that old hag think she was?! The tree elf had considered a few different things to say to her face before she noticed that the nine others were starting to leave in a crowd. "Wait - what?" She spun a little lost, feeling a little panic as they disappeared. "Wait up!" The short girl ran after them.

Honestly, with how quickly chaos had broken out - and being the little thing in the back of the crowd - the elf had only heard the gist of what the old man had said. She eventually stepped forward, being one of the last to grab her bag. Silya took a few moments to herself, marveling at her wonderful gift. It was a long arrow, dark in it's wooden color. The trip of it was sharp, she was surprised it didn't slice it's way through the cheap bag. The feathers at the end were soft and carefully placed. Everything down to the tiniest designs carved in - the ivy leaf that wrapped around it. There was something that felt - ... just very special about this. Her dark eyes glowed. "Is this really for us?" She wondered aloud to no-one in particular.

She shuffled her hand around inside the bag more, finding a small slip of paper.

'Lucky.' was all it said.

...

"Pfft. Of course I am."

She stuffed the note back in her bag and slung it around her shoulder, though still holding the arrow in her hand. Something felt real nice about it. It was also comforting... if anyone snuck up on her during the escape - she could always stab them in the eye with it. Whatever worked. She let out a deep breath.

Silya was shaky to say the least. "We'll have to hurry." She noted smiling, looking in Eira's direction. "The city -" Silya suddenly flinched, hearing the dying scream of someone not far off - the elf suddenly looked solemn. This situation really was serious, wasn't it? Well, that's one way to ruin a good mood. And an evening. And an orphanage. And a city.