Private Tales Figments and Portents

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer

Ander'ashan Merellien

The Fallen Guardian
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Ander liked to believe he had always been a bit of a explorer, desiring to charter through unknown lands, wondering if there would come a day when the Elders would allow him to escape the boundaries of Aendreasas, and explore the vastness of the world.

In that moment though, the elf was doing a different kind of exploration, one that spoke to his very soul. He held Samara in his arms, his breathing unsteady and his eyes speaking of a desire that needed not to be spoken of, as he suspected that the woman already knew - and even shared in such feeling. Longing, wanting, needing... All of those things were true, and they all referred to Samara, the only person that mattered in that moment.

To the Beyond with any relic, mercenaries and monsters, Ander wished only to remain there, in the silence of the night and peace of the forest, warmed not only by her warm skin but also the embers burning strongly beside them, illuminating that wonderful scenery, filled with the blood of their fallen foes.

He wanted her, he needed her. Ander did not know how to describe those feelings that ravaged his entire being, but he had surely embraced them already, just as he now embraced the elven woman, completely taken back by her beautiful blue eyes, so similar to his. He breathed his desire to her, feeling her trembling with surprise beneath his lustful touch, just as the Guardian leaned in, hunting her neck and breathing warmly against it. He wanted more of her.

Ander closed his eyes and welcomed the sensation that closeness brought to him, just as Samara sank her fangs on his necks, taking from him a few groans that first sounded of pain, before they moved to pleasure, even though he felt his strength fading, ever so slowly, as she drew more and more of his blood. There was no fight in him, no desire to pull back and lash out against Samara in retribution for what she was doing, much the opposite. He allowed her to grip at him tightly, amusing himself with her moans of satisfaction, almost tasting the yearn that seemed to have taken hold of her as well.

Did she desire him as much as he did? The warrior felt afraid to interrupt that moment with such a stupid question, preferring to remain silent as she delighted herself with his blood.

Not long after, she pulled back and let more of his blood fall from the small wound made on his neck, before licking it clean. Ander only now opened his eyes to gaze upon Samara, stunned at the words she professed at him. She... loved him? Love? How could that be possible for someone like him? For a warrior, deep in disgrace? He opened his mouth to speak, but the lack of words betrayed him, and he could do nothing but stare at her in awe.

Samara was a shuddering force, a woman of remarkable beauty as well as incredible skill, deadly to any man she could come across. How could she love him then, a failure to his people?

"What... What are you..." Ander tried to speak, before his voice broke down and he closed his eyes, a maelstrom of feelings seizing his chest in that moment. How could his heart beat so strongly for someone? What kind of spell had she cast on him, if at all? "Samara... What are you doing with me? Why do I wish to hold you so close, never to let you go?" The Guardian opened his eyes, staring deeply and passionately at her as the words rolled off his tongue with ease now, though heavy with emotions he had never dreamed of feeling before.

But strangely, any movement he made came to a halt, as he looked down towards her mouth, noticing the blood coming out of the corner of her lips. A sudden realization came to his mind - the pain on his neck, the disappearance of his strength and focus as she drank his blood... No, she couldn't be.

"You are..." A vampire, he was certain.

Had he fallen in love with a creature of great evil? And if she were so evil, why couldn't he push her away, tear himself from her touch? Why he was still taken with the urge to kiss her again, to feel her embrace? Had he truly lost the remains of his scarred mind?

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As Ander stood there shocked by her words, Samara's hand slid out from behind his head to slowly follow his jaw toward his lips. With the first stutter, the pad of her thumb ran over the Elf's lower lip while her blue eyes gazed upon his features lit by the nearby flame.

The Dark Elf's lips had parted making the fangs easier to see in the low light. What need had she in hiding any longer? Ander had confessed to wanting her. It had drawn the dark persona within to the surface; one that hungered for more. Pain. Pleasure. It didn't matter. But to hear they were wanted? That was what Dshara wanted from Samara, and in turn Samara wanted from others.

"I am," Samara breathed. Her thump began to run along Ander's upper lip then. "We could be together forever, Ander. You and me. I've never... touched someone in that manner. No one has ever wanted me before. But this blessing Dshara has given me, I could extend to you as well." There was an eagerness to her voice as the light danced in her eyes. Why shouldn't she offer to turn him? If they wanted one another now then they should make sure the world could never tear them apart.

Strange, then, why Samara was so far away from her goddess. The mind of the Vampire tabled that for later. Dshara wanted them, and Samara desperately desired to be held by her Maker. For some reason she couldn't begin to recall the reason she'd fled. Aside from being torn away by the others of her "community" -- the traitors that turned on her in the end!

"Just say the words, Ander. Tell me you want to be with me forever," Samara sighed. The Elven woman leaned in to nip at an earlobe, and light laughter bubbled forth. Oh, yes, she was not in her 'right' mind at all any longer.

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Ander'ashan Merellien

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Samara's words were falling to his ears like the sweetest of poems, making Ander wish she could recite them to him for each morning, for as long as they were close to each other. He shivered as she slowly and forever tentatively traced the edges of his lips, his skin crawling with her every touch, so soft and yet heavy with desire, a desire that he also shared. Ander was afraid she could even feel how his heart ached for her in that moment, as the words escaped his mind once again.

They could be together forever... He hadn't had a thought that pleasant since the fall of his homeland, since all the nightmares started plaguing his sleep, every night. When he stood entangled in Samara's embrace, Ander couldn't think of anything other than the beautiful and fierce woman he held on his arms, wanting to bring her even closer, as if they bodies could simply merge together.

Such a feat was impossible, and yet Ander never settled for anything less than that. He wanted her, he wanted to stay with her forever, and he knew now that she also wanted that. His mind felt entirely different, his focus long gone, replaced by a burning feeling of yearning, something that also coursed through his entire body, deep into his every vein.

How could he want for someone in such a way? How could Samara even desire him as well? She was a wonder, and he was nothing. A speck of dust, living in the dirt and travelling without purpose, a broken sword. A broken warrior. And yet, there they stood, beneath the moonlight, with a fire burning beside them and the blood of their enemies still fresh upon the ground.

Samara spoke of how that was the first time she ever touched someone in such a way, the first time she was ever wanted, and Ander could feel a shred of arrogance bubbling inside him, a feeling he had tried so hard to push back.

He felt special, he was special to her. Samara wanted him, forever, and Ander would want nothing more than that.

"Samara, I..." He breathed, leaning in slowly, anxious to taste her lips again. She was special to him as well. But as Ander now opened his eyes to look at her, he noticed something different in the way she looked at him. Her lovely blue eyes, the eyes that he had caught looking at him with great admiration and respect, now flickered in a way he hadn't seen before, a rather strange light making its presence in her gaze. Suddenly, everything felt like a haze, like everything was colliding within his mind, all at once, and Samara's voice tried to guide him away, to a path he did know of, a path shrouded in chilling darkness. "I want... I want to be with you..." Ander whispered right to her lips, his face moving closer and closer, until he suddenly came to a halt.

There was something else about her, something different. A different aura, so to speak. What did she mean by Dshara's blessing? What did she truly want?

Slowly, memories of the past days resurfaced on his mind, moments that had ocurred in that very same night, the relic they were chasing, the dangers in that forest, the people they had just killed... Everything was coming back, except for Samara.

"Samara, what is happening?" His hands drifted to her face, cupping her cheeks with care as his eyes were seized with worry. His voice was hasty, desperate that she could provide him with answers, though the elven woman herself seemed to be in a trance. "Come back to me!"

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"Yes?" Samara breathed as Ander said her name once more. How she loved when he whispered her name as a lover would. His eyes were absolutely radiant and captivating. Ander's hands were strong, and his muscles firm. What wasn't to like? As they stood there in one another's arms she needed him to accept her offer. Every nerve in her body was on fire, every muscle tense, and her very breath stopped in anticipation as he began to say it. Yes, yes, yes...!

A quiet moan escaped her lips when the man cupped her face in his hands. Slowly Samara's eyelids fell feeling the warmth of his body merge with her own. Just as her eyes sealed shut and a wave of euphoria came over the Dark Elven woman, Ander called out to her and everything changed.

Samara's eyes slid open, and with renewed clarity they stared straight at Ander for a moment. The glow and broad smile faded. "Ander'ashan?" The sensation of the man cupping her face soon dawned on her and with a gentle push against his chest she sought to step back from the other Elf. Heat lingered in her cheeks from being so close and... and... Dshara, had she fed on Ander? The past few seconds-- minutes-- hours? seemed a blur. Only impressions remained of feeling drawn to her companion like none other in her entire life. "What..." she swallowed to restore the strength to her voice, "what happened?"

With a turn of the head, Samara saw the fallen body of the Orc nearby confirming they were still in the camp and that the attack hadn't been a fever dream. "We should go." Samara tried to turn away from Ander and escape his grasp, her eyes averted toward the camp to keep from looking into his eyes. If she'd fed from him... confessed to him... How could she look him in the eyes? Why hadn't he already questioned being in the presence of something like her? How had he let her feed on him? Nothing made sense any more.

Ander'ashan Merellien
 

Ander'ashan Merellien

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Desperation had started to take hold over Ander, a crunching fear that Samara wouldn't wake from whatever trance she had been put into, by forces unknown to him. Fear... That feeling seemed to be his driving force, in the wake of Aendreasas' ruination, a perpetual prison that shackled his entire being, throwing him into doubt and making the once assured and asserted warrior question his every move, his every ambition - or lack of it.

His ambition in that moment though, stood in the form of a beautiful dark skinned elf, as Samara now slowly seemed to return to her senses, much to his relief. It had been hard to fight against the urge to simply seize her lips into a long and lustful kiss, to take her in his arms and spend the rest of the night there, in a paradise of their own, as twisted as it looked.

But he couldn't take advantage of her, Ander would never be such a coward. He wanted her, with every fiber of his body, every mark etched upon his skin, flowing with power, he wanted Samara, but not if her mind was not her own, not in that state.

Still holding her face, Ander sighed with relief as Samara looked towards him, visibly stunned, not a clue in her expression about what had just happened. She called him by his full name, a gesture that brought even more warmth to his heart, though the gentle push she gave him in order to distance herself from the Guardian came as a great surprise.

Somehow, it felt wrong to be far from her arms. It felt cold and unwelcome.

"Samara, wait!" He reached for her arm as she began to turn, trying to escape. Trying to run away and not face him, as if Ander could let go of her like that, especially after what they just shared, the passionate moments they exchanged with each other. The kiss, the loving embrace... He couldn't let go of her.

Gently, the warrior brought her closer, his fingers running along her jaw and tipping her face upwards, only slightly so she could glance at his eyes again. So she could see the emotion in them, the intense stare aimed towards her. Was she trying to avoid him, after everything?

"Please... Don't go." He begged, his voice barely a whisper. A heartfelt request, for the one his heart now beat strongly. A request made only to Samara.

Ander couldn't utter any other words, simply staying in silence while trying to hold Samara from running off into the forest, to continue their purse of that relic that seemed all too unimportant now. He wanted answers, and more than that, he wanted to know if Samara meant those words from before.

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Samara Asenta

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Ander wasn't inclined to let Samara walk away so easily. When he grabbed her arm, the Dark Elf looked back at him with furrowed brow, prepared to strike. They'd practically just met. If he was about to try anything at all, Samara would show him just how diverse her combat skills were; Ander's age allowing for more practice be damned.

Fortunately, he didn't go too far. His fingers gently pressed upon her jaw to align their eyes once more. A move that still had Samara on edge from the demanding hold on her, but for the moment Samara was willing to abide Ander's insistence. Though that stare as good intentioned as it was didn't help his case initially. What was said, on the other hand, reached the Dark Elf. Gentle, coaxing words that could certainly negatively mix with the preceding actions, but some part deep within yearned for them. The Vampire didn't want to go. But, how could Samara stay?

"Why? Do you know what I am, Ander'ashan?" Samara asked in the face of his request that she stay. "This... All this shouldn't have happened. We just met. I'm not who--what you think I am. You should wait for some one more worthy of your love." It tore at the Dark Elf to say it, but so far any attachment only turned to ash in short order. Samara traveled a long, dark, and lonely road. Ander would live a happier and longer life if he found another Elven woman to love; at least that was what Samara believed at that moment. Yes, she'd felt some attraction to him earlier, but Samara never meant to express it the way she had.

Ander'ashan Merellien
 

Ander'ashan Merellien

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Don't go... Ander remembered whispering such words in his sleep. Or rather, in the rare few times he was able to close his eyes peacefully, before all the sorrows and nightmare took hold of his mind. He didn't want Samara to go, he didn't want to lose another person who was now so precious to him, not when they were so close, so within reach of one another.

Gently, his thumb ran along her jaw as she looked at him again, and Ander felt he could easily lose himself in her blue eyes. But more than that, he felt... sadness. The elf couldn't begin to think of all the pains that the woman kept to herself, afraid of what it could do to others if she ever shared them, if she ever allowed herself to trust her feelings to someone else. His chest ached, just imagining how much that Samara also suffered, even if he knew so little of her story, only the details that she had mentioned earlier, which felt like so many nights ago.

What truly broke him to pieces though, were the words that followed her saddened stare. How could she say such things to him? How could Ander even begin to think about another one, when the one he wanted was right in front of him?

The pain on his chest almost tore him apart, closing his eyes for a moment as if he dreamed of all their problems suddenly disappearing in thin air. No... Samara was wrong. He could wait, but he would wait for her. If there was something worth fighting for, after losing everything, then Ander was sure he had found now.

He found her, or rather, they found each other, in the strangest of places, walking such a similar path. "Then tell me, Samara." He breathed, another request that came with his voice so low, breaking down. He opened his eyes to look at her again, his fingers never drawing away from the softness of her skin. "Allow me to earn your trust, to be with you. If fate put us together on this strange path, then it can't have been for nothing. I won't run away. I failed too many people already... I won't fail you as well."

We have a lot of time for that, after all. He thought to himself, trying to find some kind of amusement in that moment, a splinter of hope to hold on to.

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Why did Ander look hurt when she told him he was better off with someone else? How could he possibly have fallen so in love with her so quickly? It wasn't right. Was it some kind of spell Dshara cast? Some perverse ability of her Vampirism that hadn't been drawn out until Samara felt even the slightest attraction to another? That couldn't be, she'd felt interest in others before. Though... not quite as strongly. Not enough to foolishly rush into a fight.

"My trust?" Samara scoffed as she turned her head aside slightly. "My. Trust?" Her blue eyes turned back to face him straight on. "I'm trying to protect you, Ander. But if showing you is the only way..." Could they afford for it to come out later? When the enemy was upon them? When the relic was at stake? By Dshara, Ander, the Dark Elf cursed to herself.

With a twist and shove, the Elven woman broke from Ander's grasp in order to dance back three steps. Whether he reached or stepped out after her wouldn't matter. There'd be enough time for her to begin demonstrating what he wouldn't hear or understand with words. Time for every drop of color to vanish from her flesh, her eyes turn solid black with silver-white rings instead of blue, and for the shadows behind her to begin stirring. Samara's lips pulled back to bare her clenched fangs in the light.

"Is this enough, Ander'ashan? Is it? I'm not the Elf you want-- not the Elf I want to be any more. Don't ask me to trust you with the darkness I carry with me." Even though that was something Samara desperately yearned for almost every day. Someone that knew, understood, and accepted it all. Someone to confide in. But her deepest fear was if she told them everything that they'd then reject her, and in order to survive... in order to keep from being hunted she would be forced to kill that person instead.

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Ander'ashan Merellien

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Protect him? How could Samara believe that in pushing him away, she would be protect Ander? How twisted and gnawed were the shadows that she kept hidden, if they frightened her in such manner?

The elf could barely believe the words falling from her mouth, and he was even more surprise to see her wriggling and shoving away from his touch, from their embrace, waltzing back a few steps in order to put some distance between them. There it was again... That empty feeling once he stood away from her arms again, the subtle pain on his stomach as if the memories of his past failure were flashing inside his head again, like in all the nights in which he tried to sleep.

If Samara was broken down with haunting plights that kept her awake and fearing any people that chose to remain close to her, then so did Ander. He felt undeserving, ashamed... and yet, Samara never flinched from him. In the short moments following their greeting, she sought to learn more about him, his tale, his skills... To feel her pushing him away only now, Ander couldn't put it into the words the pain it caused him.

The Guardian stood firmly as Samara tapped into her unknown powers, the color fading from her skin and her eyes turning from their once beautiful blue color into black pools with silver-white rings, and he could even see the purest of shadows manifesting just behind her. The presence of her power was almost intimidating - to any other person it would've already stirred them into running away, scared. And yet, there Ander remained, poised even amid his surprise.

Never once did he flinch, or his hand made even the slightest of movements to reach his sword. He watched as her fangs glimmered against the light of the embers, her voice calling to him, questioning him. To trust him with the darkness that she carried... Had Ander truly lost his mind? Why did he not move to slay that foul creature, was her demonstration not enough to enlighten him about her danger? Instead, he started taking slow steps toward her, his face burning with a fierce determination.

"Did you expect me to flee? To abandon you?" Now, it was Ander who questioned Samara. There was not a hint of fear or doubt on his face, but rather curiosity. He wanted to know more, to feel more. He wasn't afraid of her shadows, or the tale behind them. "I want to understand, Samara. Once, I have been too brash, too careless about everything other than my blade. But with you..." With you, there was a different purpose. He thought, but couldn't yet say it, afraid of what she could think of him.

She was probably thinking he had gone insane as well. "There is only one path ahead, Samara. We shall walk it together, or you will put me down."

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"Yes!" Samara snapped almost viscously as if the answer hadn't been the most obvious thing in the world. Yes, she expected him to flee or to try slaying her on the spot. Her heart pounded in her chest as her blood pressure skyrocketed from how arduous the stress of the situation was on them both.

Her eyes narrowed slightly as Ander tried expressing something, but stopped short. Maybe something romantic, but the Elven Vampire was too worked up to guess what he hadn't said.

Thin, black brows pinched upward as Samara's shoulder slumped. "My soul is bound to a Dark One," Samara said in defeat. "You may end up getting your wish, and..." her right hand reached up toward him before curling into a fist and being drawn back, "I'm scared I might be the one that kills you."

When Ander stopped before her, Samara looked up at him with her white eyes. "Why are you still here, Ander'ashan? Why do you care about a monster like me?"

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Ander'ashan Merellien

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Even with Samara's voice rising up to meet her own frustrations in that moment, Ander was still adamant and truthful to his words. Even if his title and reputation as a Guardian were disgraced, at least he still had the dignity to never cower or lie to himself.

He watched hopeful and greatly intrigued, anticipation being made evident on his face as Samara started to reveal more about her condition, confused about her mention of a 'Dark One'. He had never heard of such thing before, probably due to his own lack of interest in his studies, always preferring to train with blades rather than books. He was very much educated, but Avhalos had so much more knowledge to offer him... though it was all gone now.

His eyes drifted towards her hand as it became a fist, with Samara relaying to him her fears of perhaps killing him. Truthfully, he was still trying to wrap his head around everything, but he could see now why she had been so unsure of letting him close, of allowing him to know and understand.

When the Guardian stopped in front of the elven woman, Samara made him a question that threw Ander into a thoughtful silence, as he sought to escape her stern gaze. Could he say that it was because he loved her? Would she even accept such feelings, so sudden? They had only just met, and yet they had shared in a intimacy so strong that it had completely taken him.

"Because I..." He started, but Ander lacked the courage to finish. He stuttered, his lips trembling and the nervousness clear on his face. "I can't abandon you. You are not a monster, Samara." It wasn't what he had in mind to say to her, it wasn't what his heart had truly wanted to say.

Ander could only hope that she would allow him to utter those words in the future.

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Samara Asenta

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Samara shook her head at Ander's response. "That doesn't..." The darker complexion of her skin began to resurface, and the blue of her eyes returned. There was no point revealing the corrupted, vampiric version of herself any longer. No point in trying to raise the dead as puppets to frighten the man off. Maybe it would actually work, but Ander was just being obstinate at this point; such a demonstration would only be an ego trip. One Samara was certainly in no mood for.

Slowly the Dark Elf leaned into the other Elf's chest. With a sigh, she turned her face to the side to press her cheek to his body. "That doesn't make any sense. Is it some kind of chivalry? You can't leave me even if you find out I'm a monster because we're in the same group?" Despite what she'd said earlier, just having a warm body to lean against was a welcome relief. The man really hadn't run away... for some reason.

"Dshara," Samara breathed as one might 'gods,' "we'll be standing here all night at this rate." So much for their quest. Felt like they'd been in the camp for hours. "Especially if I try prying out of you whatever gave you the idea to just hold me in your arms like a lover." Not that she was complaining.

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Ander'ashan Merellien

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Ander felt as if the burden of the world had fallen from his shoulders, as he watched the darker color of Samara's skin slowly returning, along with the blue of her eyes. Inside him burned a small fire of hope, the hope that she could've forfeited the notion of pushing him away, of running off alone into the forest and enduring her troubles all by herself. They didn't have to be alone, not anymore, and that thought brought the tiniest of smiles to his lips, a shy change to his usual saddened and thoughtful demeanor.

Of course, the warrior knew that Samara wouldn't be so easily convinced, that she would probably try and show him the horrors that she carried along with herself, in the hopes that he would simply turn back and leave... But he was determined. And if anything, determination had always been one of Ander's strongest virtues, mirroring his infuriating arrogance, like the Elders used to tell him.

He was almost shocked, trembling slightly and remaining as still as a statue as Samara let herself fall towards him, her head gently and warmly resting against his chest. Ander was unsure of what to do in that moment as she spoke in a rather defeated but relieved tone. After a few moments, the Guardian finally wrapped his arms comfortably around the woman, as if he was scared that she could back away again.

"I was a Guardian, Samara, not a knight." He explained with a short chuckle, in response to her question. Truthfully, he had no clear answer to her. Could he even tell her that it was his heart that begged never to let her go? "We have both suffered and endured many things by ourselves. Why not share these burdens now?"

Ander closed his eyes as he took in the pleasant sensation of slowly running his fingers along her back as Samara held on to him, feeling her every movement beneath his strong arms. For the first time in what felt like centuries, the disgraced warrior laughed with pure joy and clear amusement after her words. "Would that be so bad?" He questioned with a charming tone to his usually deep voice. "I enjoy this... Holding you in my arms. It feels peaceful."

A strange notion, considering they were still standing in the middle of a camp stained with the blood of his fallen enemies, with a dangerous relic that still waited for them, before it could fall into the wrong hands. But in that moment, Ander truly wished they could remain there for the rest of that night, in that warm embrace, with nothing but themselves to worry about.

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A quiet, but heavy sigh escaped the Dark Elf in his arms as he proposed sharing their burdens. How could she explain it was because she didn't want others to be burdened by the truth? It would be easier for everyone if Samara nothing but a shadow that passed though; a figment of everyone's imagination so when the day came they had to kill her to save the world from a monstrous goddess no one would hesitate. Oh, but how that desire was a knife twisting in her heart. Who wanted to live this way? It became familiar and people hated change, but Samara still wanted to be held and loved.

A softer, more relaxed sigh soon followed as Ander's arms wrapped about her once more. It wasn't the Vampiric fever overtaking Samara again; just feeling someone holding her so affectionately was a luxury she hadn't indulged in in some time. "No," the Dark Elf breathed. "I don't mind." Her hands slid around Ander's sides to make sure the man wouldn't suddenly disappear.

It almost seemed like a dream. The soft crack and pop of a nearby fire, the radiant warmth that filled the air, and the firm yet pliable body of a living soul with night's chill staved off for a time. With a hum, Samara turned her head around to peer up at Ander with her chin on his chest and a smile on her lips. Bright, blue eyes stared at him for a moment. It was peaceful just being in him arms.

After a moment, however, Samara blinked and her head rolled slightly to one side. "You really did let me bite you." The fading signs of her fangs on Ander's neck had been spotted. Earlier she hadn't really focused on the faint recollection of having bitten him. Or the fact he was still there afterward.

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Ander'ashan Merellien

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A shuddering chill coursed through Ander's entire body as he felt Samara's hands slowly and pleasantly moving around his sides, gripping at him as if she was afraid that he would disappear in that moment. His heart started beating in a frenzied rhythm, wild and ferocious, almost screaming against the walls of his chest, making it difficult for the elf to hide a smile of the purest affection, satisfied. She hadn't pushed him away, even after what happened, Samara was still there... in his arms.

He could scarcely believe the turns that that night had taken to. From travelling alone all this time, searching for the whereabouts of a dangerously unknown relic, to finding a fellow elf in the middle of that forest, who also happened to be chasing the very same artifact. Not only that, but their presence had started to feel more and more attractive to one another, their gaze always seemingly drifting to each other.

Granted, the Guardian was so ridiculously lost on his thoughts, that he had barely noticed how Samara settled her chin upon his chest, watching him with care. Ander was looking far away, to the endless horizon of trees in front of them, far beyond the clearing of that camp, to the starry sky above them, with seas of constellations that spoke of a thousand tales.

However, not long after, Ander felt Samara stirring slightly on his arms as she turned her head against his chest again, looking slightly pained as she spoke of the bike she had given to him before. In the heat of that intoxicating moment, the warrior hadn't even realized the entirety of that situation, that she was actually biting him, as if she were an animal. But now...

He couldn't say he cared much. More than that, it felt... good. 'Ancestors, I am truly losing my mind', he thought to himself.

Ander stood in silence for a moment longer, before he finally replied to her statement, a cheeky smile on his lips as he did. "I did..." Slowly, he lowered his head until his mouth came levelled with her ear, his lips barely grazing her skin as he spoke softly, his voice heavy with temptation. "Do you wish to taste my blood again, Samara?"

The elf had never heard of a more dangerous or reckless offer.

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Samara Asenta

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Samara stared upward as Ander leaned down and offered himself to her -- again. Her lower lip lifted and fell at the sensation of the man's lips gently grazing her ear as he spoke. A breath of a furnace soon demanded her dark lips part so that the stream could quietly release before she burst. The Elven woman's hands slid up along Ander's back toward his shoulder; the tips of her fingers curled into his body. Meanwhile, her posture slowly straightened as Samara reclaimed some of the height deliberately shed to lay her head against his chest.

"Yes," Samara hissed. Even though she knew she shouldn't indulge the desire, it was there. It was always there. This time it would be different. The loss of blood and the need to heal wouldn't drive her to maddening depths. This time it would be her choice. One she could saver and remember between the two of them.

"I've never had someone... offer..." The tide of temptation had begun to pull in. After all, why shouldn't she? Dshara had made her some kind of Vampire, and the man's blood would be absolutely delightful upon her tongue. Sure, Samara fought it whenever there was some hapless mortal around, but Ander wasn't clueless about what she was. He was offering for her to bite him. He knew. All Samara had to do was not kill him.

Her eyes widened after a moment, however, before she turned her head just a bit toward Ander's head. "Won't that weaken you, if we need to fight?" If he expressed a lack of concern on the matter well that just removed the only real reason to refuse. It was be... intriguing to know what it felt like with someone aware and not merely 'tolerant' of being bitten -- though few were ever actually involved in the decision.

Ander'ashan Merellien
 

Ander'ashan Merellien

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Ander couldn't part with the faint and yet proud smile on his lips as Samara confirmed his previous question, though slightly reluctant. He was well aware of her condition as a vampire, and had even encountered other dark creatures such as them before, though they were not all as... friendly as the woman in his arms. On his travels, he had come against vampires and other creatures of the night, and their first instinct had always been to rush towards their prey.

Luckily, Samara was remarkably different for a vampire. She seemed to detest the urges of having to drink blood in order to survive or regain her strength, much unlike Ander, whose magic and focus allowed him to quickly recover from his wounds. Meditation was one of the most complex training subjects amongst the Guardians, a task of great respect and heavy with hardship, as even the most seasoned veterans couldn't invoke such energies at will.

Ander himself had barely mastered that art, though the Elders always spoke to him of his gifts, blessed by his bloodline. A bloodline of noble warriors and old protectors.

He was taken back from his thoughts as the Guardian felt Samara's hands slowly drifting upwards along his back and to his shoulder, sensing her urge and desire grow much stronger with the boldness of his suggestion, while her fingers sent chills down his spine. He wanted that, he wanted her to feel him again, even if it made him look completely insane. Before, he had thought that Samara was taken by her hunger, her mind eclipsed by forces far beyond his ken, but now...

She looked normal, and Ander hoped that she could savor that moment as something special, as a bond between them. As twisted as that seemed.

The Guardian looked at the dark elf softly as she uttered words of concerns to him. Of course, she wasn't all wrong - if his body were to be drained almost empty, they would certainly face some complications on that dangerous journey, but Ander wanted to reassure her. Or rather, to impress the beautiful rogue vampire. "The Magic of Aendreasas will not let me fall, not before we complete our task." He spoke with confidence, gazing deeply into her eyes. He wanted her to see him, to believe in those words, as far fetched as they sounded.

But more than that, he wanted...

"Is that concern I sense on your voice?" He teased her, as his face was almost being drawn to her again, his head falling just slightly towards the elven woman. He wanted that thrilling sensation again. But there was something else he wanted, the answer to a question. "Do you still want me, Samara?"

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Samara Asenta

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Earlier it had been a dark, burning desire to possess and devour Ander that'd taken hold of Samara. A frantic eagerness born of suffering and dark whispers. The monster Dshara molded within the Dark Elf in her castle to prepare the vessel for the consuming darkness of the Dark One. It had been a ravenous being that Ander had flirted with dangerously, but a stray thought away from being drained dry or torn apart from a misunderstood word or belief of being turned away.

Now, Samara's head was clear. The invitation begged the Vampire to bite him and that urge swarmed her thoughts, but it did not pull her under as it had earlier. Having been subjected to tortures beyond imagination, the Dark Elf resisted and shunned the vampiric urges; she only willingly fed to stave off an even worse outcome should the hunger drive her into a frenzy. Better to feed off criminals or a cultist than some random family in the woods. In this moment, however, at Ander's insistence, Samara found herself wanting to bite him. There was no need as she'd already fed moments ago. She wanted to stop resisting and embrace the swelling desire with the promise of the rapture that came afterward.

Ander's dismissive response wasn't terribly convincing, but if it was what he wanted... and what she wanted... Samara's right hand released the man and swept around between them. She reached up to entwine her fingers in the strands of the man's hair as a fang gently bite down on her lower lip. There was no reason to refuse was there?

Well, there was one. To spite Dshara. But... why? As they stood there together in one another's arms, Samara felt indescribly close to Ander and soon she would bury her fangs in his flesh in a way no other woman ever would. He was handsome, strong... and maybe a little insane. Maybe they were compatible after all.

Samara's fingers tightened amidst Ander's hair and she gave a slight but careful jerk backwards as she pressed her lips to his earlobe, "Want you? You're already mine, Ander'ashan. Now you just have to learn to live with it." The words might have been bordering on insidious, but her voice was soft if clear. A playful response in line with being a fiend herself.

Soft laughter preceded the Dark Elf's grasp gently guiding Ander to bend his head a bit to expose his neck further. Samara paused to lick her lips as she leaned in closer to taste his Elven blood once more.

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Ander'ashan Merellien

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Ander stood surprised, his eyes widening as Samara ever so confidently answered his question, his skin suddenly growing incredibly warm and his mind blank, without any kind of response to her words, so assured and passionate. Truthfully, he wasn't expecting anything of the sort, not when she seemed so determined to flee, to keep him away from her darkness just moments before. To hear Samara say that he belonged to her... The elven warrior bit his lower lip, almost too restless and wishful, his eyes scouring down her face and looking for her mouth, her delicious lips that he desired to kiss again.

He didn't know how to begin to explain it, but Ander just felt that she was completely irresistible, her arms wrapping around his body and her face so mesmerizing, the soft features being slightly touched by the light coming from the fire.

If he hadn't noticed it before, Ander would've definitely seen, and realized, now just how beautiful Samara was, especially when she was standing there, with his arms reaching around her, refusing to let her go. His whole body just seemed out of control, the thrill and emotion taking hold of him without Ander even bothering to fight back, defeated in a battle that he actually wanted to lose. A meaningless struggle for control, when the only thing he wanted was to have her.

And he would have. He would have Samara, her warm touch as well as her darkest shadows, even with all the complications on their path. Ander was determined to see that through, to walk beside her for more than that relic chase. He wanted to hear more about her past, to glance at her when she wasn't looking, to watch her fight more poor bandits who hadn't an ounce of idea about the situation they would've gotten themselves into, battling a merciless vampire with a terrible addiction to blood and violence.

If the Elders could've seen him, they would've disgraced him even more. He had broken oaths, abandoned his post in a childish hunt for glory, and now... He was completely in love with a vampire, of all people.

The Fallen Guardian trembled slightly as Samara started to run her fingers through his white hair, unable to hide the moan of sheer pleasure he let out as her lips pressed against his earlobe, as the dark elf exerted her control over him. Though this time, it was not unnatural, due to some dark force from the beyond. No... This time, they both desired for that, in their own right minds - as right as they could be. "That's a life I would like to have." He whispered with great difficulty, his voice breaking down as if he was being torn to pieces, though instead of pain, there was only pleasure.

"Samara..." Ander begged for her, he wanted her. And yet, she preferred to torture him, to softly laugh against his skin as she slowly pushed his head to the side, revealing more of his pale neck, to the same spot she had him marked as hers before. He had already been marked once, though the trials of the Guardians inflicted him with pain far beyond any imagination.

At the end of that torture, as she finally leaned in close enough to sink her teeth into his skin, Ander could finally release the air on his lungs, a muffled moan escaping his lips as his right arm wrapped around her waist, bringing Samara even closer before his left hand grabbed at her side, unconsciously moving down her thigh in a dangerously bold manner. He showed no fight, no signs of pain or struggle, the Guardian simply wanted for Samara to savor that moment - and him. To feel his Elven blood, strong with ancient magic, on her lips once again... to know that he was truly hers.

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Samara hooked her right leg around Ander's left leg as she held fast with both hands. The Vamprie sank her fangs into his flesh to draw out the spring of crimson once more. How sweet the tart life blood of the Elf was, the thought fluttered somewhere in the back of her mind. She could feel the man in her embrace writhe with... pleasure? It was such an odd sensation to have someone want to be bitten. It was so... nice.

Her eyes slid open and before her gaze the Dark Elf saw the Dark One Dshara standing there observing them. Not that Ander would sense her presence as the goddess lurked within the Vampire's soul. In that moment, Ander in her arms, Samara didn't feel animosity or hatred or fear at the fiendish one's sight. If anything it bordered on... gratitude.

Were Samara not afflicted by Dshara's corruptive influence the two of them may have met, and likely gotten along perfectly well. May have even fallen in love. But because of the Dark One her fangs and loathing had ensnared the man so thoroughly Samara would likely have to break him in order to keep him from following her to the ends of the realm. Just by holding him in her arms she'd instilled an obsessive, consuming adoration in Ander for herself. That and saying she wanted and love him earlier.

Slowly those blue eyes were veiled once more as the darkness rose from the ground behind Ander. A cloud of darkness slowly churned and grew in volume. In short order, Samara pushed the man to lean back into the surprisingly soft comfort of that dark cloud with her stretched out on top and her lips secured to his neck. It was far more comfortable like this, Samara thought. For both of them.

As for the bold exploration of Samara's thigh, the Vampire didn't complain. Another time or another person she would have had something to say about it, but not here and now. It was a glorious moment worthy of basking in it without interruption.

Which was why Samara very nearly exsanguinated the poor Elven man in her grasp. Fortunately, those fangs withdrew and the Vampire sealed the wounds once more before she went too far. Just barely.

A shuddering sigh was shaken from the Vampire as she lay there in Ander's arms. Then a soft, quiet moan from behind closed lips followed. Oh, yes, this was absolutely divine, Samara thought.

"I've never enjoyed doing that with anyone before. It always felt so monstrous." With a soft giggle, Samara nipped at Ander's earlobe. "Not with you."

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Ander'ashan Merellien

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Even with the stinging pain on his neck, Ander still could feel nothing but shivers of pleasure coursing through him, crawling along his skin. Samara was having her bloody way with him again - her teeth deep into his pale skin, her hunger for blood being sated by the energy she now drained from Ander, and even if the prospect of such thing seemed so dangerous, the Guardian didn't want to stop.

He couldn't stop, they were too entangled with each other. His heart had already been wrapped by the feelings she brought to him, the new emotions that had been warmly welcomed by the warrior. With a shy and barely reluctant moan, Ander writhed beneath her touch, one of his hands freely exploring her waist, desperately trying to bring her closer and closer, while the other dared to drift towards bolder areas, slowly moving down her thigh.

His lips opened and closed a few times, and though no words came from them, the flush on his face was enough evidence of the wave of delicious feelings that now overwhelmed him, as Samara continued to taste his blood, her hands travelling along his neck and shoulders with barely enough decency to hide the pleasure she was also enjoying in that moment.

Suddenly, Ander felt a profound urge, a need to taste her lips again, though he didn't feel as strong to simply tear away from that vampiric embrace. Before long, Samara deepened their blood connection, giving the elven warrior a slight push as he fell backwards, though they never reached the ground, instead his back felt the strange comfort of a black cloud just behind him, with the Dark Elf stretching out on top of Ander, her fangs never once pulling back from his bloodied neck.

There were only a feel words capable of describing that moment in a simplistic way.

Desire. Lust. Need. Yearning... Ander yearned for that woman, for her touch, for her fangs sinking into his skin as if that brought some kind of twisted pleasure to him. He didn't know if that was some strange magic that vampires used to lure their prey into their banquets of blood, but if there was even such a thing like that, Ander didn't care. Not in that moment, not with Samara. It was different from the monstrosities other vampires do.

Not long after, she pulled back, having drunk enough blood to satisfy her needs, while Ander fought against the exhaustive sensation that overtook him. It hadn't been truly painful, but having his strength sapped from him wasn't exactly a good thing. But at least, he felt at ease once Samara laid on his arms again, feeling her breathe against his chest, followed by a quiet moan that he was still able to hear.

It seemed she had greatly enjoyed that, which only made Ander even more assured of his rather careless decision to throw himself to the needs of a vampire.

He grinned from ear to ear as the Dark Elf giggled close to him, his earlobe being tentatively nipped by the woman. Her words filled him with pride and joy, feelings he hadn't been able to experience ever since the demise of his homeland.

Ander cherished those words greatly, his blue eyes gazing into hers as if he was face to face with the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. And in more ways than one, that statement was true.

He spent a long moment there, admiring her in silence as his fingers ran along her arm, tracing a soft outline of her skin until they touched her face softly, with Ander now taking a long and deep breath, almost as if he had been preparing for a battle - a fight between his innocent nature and his carnal desires.

But if there was a time to be bold and adventurous, it had to be that. "Samara, I..." He spoke her name with such strength that it almost sounded as if he was worshipping a saint. Ander blushed nervously, still unsure of the words he was about to utter, the wish he was about to ask of her.

"I want to kiss you again."

If she had enjoyed her time tasting his blood, perhaps it was only fair of him to seek something in return. Something of a similar kind. He wanted her taste again.

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The camp of dead bodies in a secluded part of the world was surprisingly serene with Ander in her arms as they lay atop a cloud of writhing darkness. Not exactly the sort of romantic interlude a younger Elf ever imagined. She'd certainly never expected to become a Vampire and feed on someone. To think she actually enjoyed it this time... Her blue eyes shone in the darkness as Samara basked in the moment. None of it made sense, and she really wasn't interested in forcing the issue. If the world finally wanted to stop torturing her for a moment, great.

Or, maybe, Samara had only ever been torturing herself.

Then Ander said the strangest-- no, second strangest thing. The strangest had definitely been 'bite me.' Kiss me was just shy of that mark. Samara batted her eyes at the request. Should it feel as out of left field as it did? The man had offered up his body for her to consume. Pretty intimate. Dshara knew Ander even seemed to enjoy it. So how was it he was asking for more, but in a way that wouldn't get him killed?

Slowly Samara lifted her leg as she scooted up a bit along his side. The Dark Elf soon straddled Ander's lower rib cage in order to make up for his extra height, and planted her hands upon the dark pillow beneath them to either side of the man's head. Samara gazed down at him for a silent moment without blinking.

She shouldn't. She knew she shouldn't. They just met. He surrendered himself to a Vampire. Ander was courting death itself and looked smitten by an angel of darkness. Samara should refuse and fly off into the night. It'd be better for him in the long-run. Even if he ached afterward, there'd be another. A saner choice.

That's what she would have said if they were back at the river.

After all, who doesn't want to be loved? Dshara whispered in Samara's ear.

Perhaps feeding on the other Elf hadn't felt monstrous, but was there any doubt if this kept up she might do more? There was already that question in her mind -- in her heart. Someone that practically worshiped her... someone strong. Samara should claim him before something else did. Make him hers for all time.

It was not yet that time, however. A fledgling urge leagues beyond biting and kissing. The door was unlocked in her soul, but she had no yet the need to open it. But that didn't mean she had to refrain from every door presented to her in that moment.

Samara leaned down toward Ander until her lips were firmly pressed against his. After all, why not?

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Ander'ashan Merellien

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It wouldn't be unwise to say that Ander had never felt the weight of expectation like in that moment, laying on that strange cloud of pure darkness, feeling Samara's body warmily clinging to him in a space that could only fit the pair of rather unlikely lovers.

As a descendant of the noble clan Merëllien, a family of great warriors and scholars in Aendreasas, he had learned the meaning of expectation. As a trainee to the Guardians, he learned how to embrace that expectation, to transform it into focus, into power. The mind ruled the body, and both needed to be perfectly aligned in order for a Guardian to prevail against any threats that could rise against the land. But in that moment, staring at Samara's lips with hunger and lust, he could feel that expectation crushing him.

The gods were surely laughing at him, at the irony of the path they had set him upon. Even after the fall of Avhalos, even when Ander fell from prestige to disgrace, his body hadn't overruled his mind. But now, with Samara's fingers slowly tracing the lines of his muscles, he could feel himself giving in to the most base instincts of the flesh, his focus faded and his heart beset with urge. He couldn't take his eyes off her, nor did he want to.

She was a vampire, a dark creature who lived only to feed on others. To sate her hunger with the death of others. As a warrior and a protector, Ander had sworn to fight against such things... But not her. He was completely bewitched by her, from the soft features of her face, to even the slightest movements she made, always so swift and confident. She possessed both power and grace in equal measure, a balance of strength that Ander admired, from the moment he met her in those woods.

Though, they were only strangers who met at the riverbank. And now, they stood so close that they could feel their warm breaths caressing each other's skin.

His oaths were buried along with the rest of Avhalos, a giant pile of painful memories and regret. With Samara, he could even dare to... think ahead. What if they didn't have to stop at the relic? What if they could be together?

His eyes were flashing with hope, just as Samara slowly stood on top of him, her hands resting at the side of his head and her entire body trapping him into a cage he had no intention of leaving. She had control, and that amused the Guardian, greatly so. The expectations were crushing him again, his lips almost begging to touch hers, with Samara drawing closer and closer. Ander closed his eyes, he could tell she wanted that as much as him, and he felt his whole body tremble and ease as she firmly pressed her lips against his.

The kiss he longed for. The touch, the bond... Samara was right, he was already hers.

As the kiss deepened further and further, it had been inevitable that Ander's courage only grew bolder, his hands exploring her back and slowly drifting further down, carefully bringing her closer. He moaned as their mouths pressed together, before suddenly breaking their kiss, his eyes turning from blue to white, the marks that appeared along his chest shining weakly against his vest. It was only for a fleeting moment, but Ander could feel his own magic wrecking his body with pain.

After that terrible sensation had vanished and his eyes returned to their normal color, the Guardian breathed easier again, though he was left with disappointment after ruining that special moment. He closed his eyes, almost as if he wanted to escape from Samara's sight, though there was little room for that when he was pinned right below her. "I... Forgive me. My body is..."

Drained. He wouldn't dare to speak such word out loud, knowing the guilt that could overcome Samara if she were to hear it from his lips. Even if he was gifted with both skill and also magic, Ander was not invincible, and like every living being, he couldn't function without blood - something that had been taken from him in great doses that night, though he regretted none of it.

He pressed his forehead against Samara's, seeking to put her at ease of any worries even before she could think of them. He would live, death wouldn't be so kind as to take him so soon, though his own hunger now made him feel as desperate as a vampire, completely faminished, though not for blood. He needed food, if there was any to be found in that place.

Unless... They had conquered that encampment after all. To the victor goes the spoils.

"We should search for something to eat, before I fall short of taking our precious relic." A smile slowly formed on his lips as Ander began to play with a few strands of her hair, wishing that they could linger in that closeness for a few more moments. "Would you grieve for me then, Samara?" He joked, though a part of the elf wanted desperately to believe that she was every bit his, like he was hers.

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Samara slowly rocked up and down as their lips were locked. At least until the man turned away to break the kiss. Then she drew back several inches, but rather than look upset or say anything, the Elven woman's right hand lifted in order to trace Ander's lower lip with the pad of her thumb. Bright blue eyes watched as his eyes and chest glowed -- as the magic flared within.

After he stopped speaking short of explaining why they'd been interrupted, Samara gently took hold of Ander's chin between the thumb and forefinger. A light application of pressure followed to open his mouth by lowering his jaw. What was there to be sorry about? Slowly, she leaned in ever closer once more. Ander then pressed his forehead to her's, and Samara locked eyes with him as her fingers followed his jaw to his ear and then slid in behind his head.

Talk of food scarcely interested Samara. Her vampiric nature made eating practically impossible -- certainly not enjoyable for long as it came back up. But Ander wasn't like her, so she recognized the important especially in light of her draining him almost dry. Was that what he'd tried not to say earlier? She'd taken too much? Not that he'd ever say that. He was too much of a gentleman for that -- too enamored with her to dare. Though she wouldn't take offense. After all, he had tasted so delicious.

Suddenly both of Samara's hands slid out and in to clasp Ander's face between them just as his body was trapped between her and the darkness. "How could you ask me that, Ander? I may be a vampire, but I am not a heartless beast." A smile sprang to her lips as her voice had been insistent, but not sharp. "Even though we just met, I can't imagine being without you. Don't you feel the same?"

It was a sick twist that Ander couldn't be the wiser of, but Samara felt the same overwhelming desire for him and need to be desired by him that Dshara and she shared. It was a consuming lust and possessiveness that wanted nothing more than to claim the man for herself. Why should anyone else get to have him? They could explore everything the world had to offer together. That it reflected the desired relationship with the Dark One didn't register, or perhaps it did, but didn't matter. Either way, Samara could only smile as she leaned down to kiss him lightly on the lips once more.

With a soft, drawn out sigh, however, she slowly drew back. Her hands trailed down his chest until Samara stepped off the writhing, dark cloud. One hand was extended out for Ander to take. Once his weight was no longer supported by the living shadows they would fade back into the void from whence they came; a billowing cloud of smoke swept away by an unfelt breeze.

"What do you like to eat, Ander?"

Ander'ashan Merellien
 

Ander'ashan Merellien

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His gaze lingered for a moment longer, as Ander purposely lost himself in Samara's bright blue eyes. He felt her palms softly pressing against the sides of his face, as her words made evident the surprise she must've felt to his question. Ander himself couldn't register why he had asked something of that sort to someone he had just met, someone bound to outlive many generations, even those of elves, who themselves live through eras.

And yet, he needed to know. He needed to hear her say, and he was not left disappointed.

When Samara answered, the enamored warrior couldn't tear his sight away from the smile that formed on her lips, following their movement as if time had slowed down just for him to admire her mouth as she spoke. She couldn't imagine herself being without him... If Ander didn't know how to put those feelings into words before, Samara had helped him now. He knew he could not face the journey ahead without her - not due to a lack of skills suited to the task, but because his heart had been filled with something else than grief, anger and regret.

Like a sudden tornado, Samara had shaken him to his core, filled his heart with feelings unknown to him, and just like her, the Guardian could no longer imagine himself without that woman embellishing his sight and peaking his curiosity. "I do, Samara. I... I want to be with you, to learn more about you and this world." He gazed away from her for a moment, his pale face blushing slightly as he nervously spoke of his deepest wishes to the woman. Ander feared that she would think that he had gone truly mad, or that his feelings and desires were too sudden, too frail to be taken seriously.

If only she could feel how his heart was beating for her, how her touch was enough to make him lose his disciplined focus...

Ander looked more like a embarrassed young man falling in love for the first time, and all of that could be taken as a truth now, but he had lost much of that youthful shine with the fall of his city, of his family and all those he held dear. More than being with Samara, he wanted to make things right - he couldn't fail her as he had done with the others. But before he could further dwell on his own misery, Samara surprised him with a quick and soft kiss, perking his lips slightly, just enough to make him desire for more - and be disappointed when the Dark Elf withdrew from their embrace reluctantly, extending her hand out to him.

Without much delay and a smile of gratitude, the Guardian took her hand and rose to his feet, letting the wind blow away the dark cloud until it could no longer be seen. Their fingers remained entangled for a moment longer, as Samara asked him about his preferences for food. Ander let out a short laugh, finding some sort of amusement in her question.

"Nothing that can be found in these woods, Samara." He joked, reminding himself of the meals he used to enjoy in Aendreasas. As a nobleman, he had the pleasure of being served only the finest food in Avhalos - meat coming from the most eccentric and rare animals that roamed the white woods, sweet water collected from the Rivers of Fal'Theras... Everything had a divine taste, which was not something he could say for the food he had eaten in his recent travels. "You would have enjoyed Old Haghren's banquets. He made us fight for every plate we were to eat, and the losers would often find themselves hungry for a few more days, to steel themselves from further failures." Ander looked at Samara with fondness as he told her the tale of Haghren, the Avhalosian Order's old quartermaster and one of its most decorated members, before his retirement.

"Is there any food that is not so terrible to the tongue in this land?"

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