Recent content by Ánië Táralóm

"I must confess, I have never seen the like." And the wonderment that was upon her face was plain. This was indeed some foul magic, and she was uncertain of how she might truly combat it. At least, for the moment. Its source was no doubt something familiar... or so she hoped. The further they...

Erin was shrewd, and Ánië could not deny his wisdom. Their enemy had proven time and time again to be so unpredictable as to almost be predictable. One could assume nothing but the worst. "I would argue my friend. Your loss would be..." she shook her head, feeling it needed no other words...

And so they returned back down into the city's lowest tier, and they were led to the place where the dark army's evil had prevailed on into their home. Ánië looked upon it with an eye of disdain. "Their witchcraft knows no boundary," she uttered. Before them, near where the city's wall met...

Her ponderous gaze shifted back and forth between each of his eyes, departing from the sense of wonder and settling into a more certain stare. She smiled up at him, briefly, before her hand fell to her side again. But for a moment more, she lingered, simply, looking up at him. "You are strong...

Her hand slowly fell to her side, and when she turned to face him it was clear in her face that she felt the same as he. There could never be one without the other. There could not be those bright lights in the sky without the vast dark in between. Her hand reached up, and pressed gently...

"...comfort?" She spoke quietly, her face still upturned, her eyes seemingly fixed upon the object in front of them. As magnificent as it was, surely she, one so familiar, was hardly so enamoured. Or wasn't she? Her features would tell what her lips did not, or at least not promptly. "This is...

"That is... very different from us." As they came to the plateau hidden behind the large statue, she paused there in the midst of it and turned to face him. "To us, it is seen as a great honour for one of our Swords to join with the choir, or to join in prayer in the Temple. But then..." her...

Her head canted to the side, and a gentle hum escaped her. "I am happy, then," she said, and remained quiet for a moment as she pondered his downcast gaze. He was an elusive man, as imposing as his stature made him. If she willed it, she could attempt to pry her mind into his own and see what...

A wordless song carried through the halls of their Temple, as it always did. Solemn and beautiful, it carried the tones of the very essence Erin felt in this place, but in it too was the whisper of hope. A hope that refused to fade away. On into the cathedral he would find her, set amongst...

The expression she wore appeared perhaps stoic, but past that she felt pain. She had lived many, many years, as he had guessed. She could see much. And by now she had garnered more than enough understanding for this man who was before her now. He did not see himself as such, not a man of his own...

She looked to him with an almost confused and wounded expression, though it was not pain for herself that she felt. She had always known that most, if not all other people in Arethil were... unlike her and her kind, even other elves. Or rather, they were the ones who were unlike. But in the way...

She returned his bow with the inclination of her head, and she placed her hand upon her chest as she replied, "I am hardly above such things. Allow me," and she gestured for him to enter into his room first. Entering in, the chamber was like all else in the temple and yea the city itself -...

Though he seemed hesitant to let his eyes linger on her for any more than a moment, she was content to look at up him for a little longer while he admired the work of long gone, faithful hands. When his eyes turned to her again they'd find her looking up still, studying him as he had studied...

She nodded, and her head remained poised upward toward Astra's visage, but her eyes fell. While hers was a promise of grace and dignity, what did he see in his promise? It seemed at first a dour fate, but as she pondered it she drew from it a different meaning, perhaps one less dreadful. But...

Her eyes fell to the ground before her as they walked, and she offered a subtle and no doubt unseen nod. There was a deep appreciation for the genuine expression from him, to which she could at least offer some remark. "To each their own trials," she said, echoing words spoken many times by...