Private Tales On The Hunt

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
"Myr," she gasped and was thankful for his strong arm around her and a quick tug. Her lungs burned. Fingers lightly pressed against his back for a moment as she caught her balance. Wild greens darted over his broad shoulders as the other hunters began to try to circle them.

"I will be," she rasped behind him.

Was he okay? Eyes ran down his back quickly. There was some blood but it wasn't his own. Heart thudded against her ribcage.

The windmage rolled back to his feet with a sneer. He snapped his hand forward, a rush of air coming toward her and Myr. It was clear he was trying to knock them back.
 
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The wind rushed against his chest, striking him...and then suddenly warping around him. There was an odd press, and then the wind began to fold into his chest.

Pain shot over his flesh, and a mark of blue slowly began to grow just beneath the cloth of his shirt. It twisted and changed, scarring into his body as the magic slowly dissipated and fell away from around him. He briefly turned towards Isla, then shrugged.

"Guess Vrak didn't tell you." The Orc had known of Myr's ability.

Most Hunters did.

"That trick don't work on me." Fear shot over the mages eyes. "Neither will that."

There was another blast of wind, and similar results echoed into the sea-elf's flesh as he suddenly darted forward towards the wind mage.
 
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She didn't know what to expect. Myr had told her his powers. Or perhaps what he thought of as his curse. But she still wasn't prepared for the wind just to whip around him - be absorbed into him. She pressed against his back, those tendrils of the mage's wind ripping and tugging at her fiery hair and clothing.

But Myr acted as her shield.

And she felt something. A twinge of pain along her chest. Just for a moment. A frown pulled at her lips as Myr dashed forward. Widening her stance, fingers curled together together. The ground began to shake and split apart at the other hunter's feet and before they had a chance to move, they were sucked downward into new fissures.
 
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Myr dashed forwards as the earth split open beneath the feet of the other remaining hunters.

The Wind mage was of the sort it seemed that was caught off guard by his powers, and before the man could take a further step back the Sea-Elf closed the distance between the two of them. His sword swiped high, cutting through the man's chest.

There was a loud gasp, his eyes opening wide in shock before suddenly Myr took another step forward and buried the blade in his chest.

A loud squelch echoed in the clearing as rock fell into itself just a few feet away from the two of them. Myr glanced back towards Isla, ensuring that she was okay before wrenching the blade free from the mage and speaking. "We should go."

His voice was stern, but quick.

"Fast." There were a dozen more where these fools came from.
 
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She could feel the earth take some of her energy. That cost of magic. Wide-greens looked at the blood dripping from the elf's sword. She'd never seen so much bloodshed. And the mages she'd just killed.

Who was she becoming?

Vibrant greens snapped to Myr and she nodded. That pain she'd felt earlier? All the death. She felt a wave of emotions swirl up from her gut. Pushing off her feet, she jogged to catch up to him. And she kept going. Rusty hair whipped wildly behind her. A huge part of her wished she could just run away from everything. She was battling shock and fear.
 
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He wiped his blade on the leg of his pants, quickly shifting it so that he could sheath it as they ran.

He'd seen more than one foolish warrior impale himself on his sword, and in the Wilds he felt as though that were even more of a possibility. As the two of them ran Myr glanced over towards Isla, seeing the broken expression on her face.

A frown touched his lips, and then slowly he reached out and grasped her hand.

It was an awkward gesture, given the fact that they were running through the middle of an extremely dense jungle, but he thought it might help.

Fingers squeezed her palm softly, holding her as they rushed forward.
 
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Slender fingers squeezed his back. Eventually they slowed to a jog. Then to a walk. She didn't release his hand even then. Lungs burned as she steadied her breath. The feeling of it made her shiver, reminding her of what the windmage had done.

Stealing her breath.

"Myr," she began, her voice strained. She had to focus on where they were. That they were still alive. Not focus on the trauma of the fight. Or how hard this really was.

"When the windmage hit you, I felt something. I think," lips pressed together for a moment. "I might be bonded to you somehow. Maybe when my magic healed you - back at camp."
 
Myr blinked at her as they came to a slow walk. "Uhh."

The Sea-Elf wasn't entirely sure what to say to that.

He himself had felt nothing, but that didn't mean there hadn't been something. The things his magic could do were still mostly a mystery to him. He didn't understand how much of it worked, much less the limits of what it could do.

"I'm not sure." Myr admitted quietly as he suddenly came to a stop. "My magic is still..."

He looked down at his hand. "A mystery."
 
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"It's okay," she squeezed his hand before letting go. "Mine is too. There's something about you that draws my magic toward you...," voice trailed off. A pinch of her lips. She didn't know either.

Maybe it was the healing. Her healing sensed his hurt and pain and wanted to take it away. They walked quietly. As the sun shone down through the canopy, something not quite like the others caught her attention.

"Look," she pointed.

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"Shit." For a second the topic that she had just been talking about was completely and entirely forgotten.

He wasn't entirely sure how that was, given it's important, but as soon as he saw the structure within the trees Myr felt his mind go blank. It was like something out of the stories about his land-born cousins. The image reminding him of something his mother had told him about.

The sea-elf had to fight not to draw his sword.

His lips thinned. "We should be careful."

Myr said quietly, fingers flittering for a moment.

"But maybe..." He looked over towards Isla. "Maybe we'll get an actual bed tonight."

One could dream.
 
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"That would be a luxury," she smiled broadly. She, of course, was never opposed to sleeping among nature. But there was something to be said about having a warm, dry bed to lay on. She gave a nod to Myr and began treading up the steps. Footsteps light on smooth and polished stone.

The stuff felt foreign against her bare feet and her toes wiggled as they paused at the top. It looked like a great hall with other stairways leading further up. And the air was cool - pleasant. Old paintings with a layer of dust decorated the high walls.

"I'm not sure if anyone still lives here," she whispered.
 
Myr moved carefully, steps practiced and paced so that they moved just a little bit beyond Isla. He figured that if they walked into any traps, he would want to walk into them first.

Gaze flickered through the open hall. "No."

He agreed with her. The place seemed almost entirely abandoned. A thin layer of dust sat over everything, though interestingly enough there wasn't really anything damaged or broken from what he could see. Was some sort of magic in place?

It certainly seemed that way.

"Careful." Myr said as he moved further into the hall. "We have no idea what's waiting."
 
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"You be careful," she called out, watching him step into the lead. He always did that. And while it warmed her heart toward him it also made her worry. She found she didn't want anything bad to happen to him.

She never had.

"This place is huge. And I don't think humans built it," she mused quietly walking just behind Myr. She watched their backs. Making sure nothing was ambushing them from behind. Up some more stairs and past some giant and beautifully carved windows, they came to a set of rooms that seemed to be set up as independent suits.
 
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"I don't think so either." Myr said softly as they crossed into the hallways that lead to the suite below.

It was clear that this place was some sort of manor rather than a castle or a fort. He had no idea who this place actually belonged to, but it had clearly been abandoned for some time now. There was no scent of people here, nothing.

He slowly stepped forward into the rooms, looking around.

"I've heard rumors that some of my...cousins." Regular Elves. "Made their home in the Wilds."

Though father had always said the settlements were deeper into the wood. "Maybe a retreat of some sort."

He offered in theory.
 
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"It's beautiful," she mused. Stopping at a set of double doors, she pulled them open. It opened to a large wardrobe. Fine clothing was hung up, stacked along hangers. In the back looked like some more casual clothing that might even fit her.

"Looks like I won't need to wear your shirt for much longer," she called over her shoulder with a half smirk. She began exploring other cabinets and shelves. "There's some jarred food here. Looks like some pickled things. Some grains."

They had some food. That was good. Looked like they could even make some bread.

A large hearth with some iron skillets for cooking and roasting.

She wandered to a side wall and opened another door. Inside was a brightly lit room of the surrounding wood. And up against one wall was a massive four-poster bed. She'd never seen anything so lavish in her life. Growing up on the island had always been simple.

This was fit for a king or queen.

"Your cousins must've been rather wealthy."
 
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Myr followed along with Isla as she explored. He could already tell that she would want to stay here, at least for a little while, and he knew that he would have a difficult time denying her. There was something...pleasant about this place.

Perhaps a day or two would do them good. "Elves don't really measure wealth."

At least his own people did not, though he could not imagine it was much different for his land-born cousins. Wealth was something to be shared with the community, something that could be offered for all. Most lived like Kings only if they wanted to.

"Most of this was likely grown." He told her. "Sung from the trees and offered as a gift."

Very different than human society.
 
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"Sung from trees?" The dryad smiled and turned down a winding hall which had the massive trunk as a tree as the wall.

"I like the sound of that. A mutual giving." That's how a lot of her magic worked. She could understand. The floor dipped a little and continued to curve, opening up into a darker area that looked like it was lit by some sconces on the wall. There was the sound of trickling water and it looked like a natural cave.

Deep blue and white mosaic tiles decorated the floors and opened to a large walk-in bath area.

"I suppose I can finally get this layer of dirt off from our travels." Kneeling to the lip, she dipped her hand in. "It's warm." She beamed.
 
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"Magic." He said with a frown, wondering if his own abilities would interact with it in some way.

Myr had seen the like before, though truthfully he did not think it would be a problem. Standing enchantments generally did nothing when it came to his abilities, not unless they actively tried to harm him in some way.

"The Elves of land are..." He considered the right word. "Well they enjoy their comforts."

Unlike his own people. "We prefer our ships."

Myr said as he slowly stepped alongside Isla and squatted down besides the water. The bath was massive, deep, and large enough for a dozen people to comfortably lounge in. In a way it was a truly wondrous things.
 
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She laughed.

Fingers dangling in the water gave the elf a light splash.

"Do you think we can stay here a few days? Rest a little?" Isla was a girl of the wilds. She didn't need the comforts, or so she told herself. But perhaps it would be nice to indulge a little. Temporarily. Especially if ship travel was in her future.

Best not to tell him how that made her react.

More flicks of the water toward him, an impish grin on her face.

"This enough like ocean spray to get your fix in for awhile?"
 
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He smirked at her, flicking water back at her. "No, but it'll do."

Myr couldn't express just how much he missed the sea. He had not been able to actually board a ship for near a decade now. The oath he had taken meant that he couldn't, and there was a certain pain in his heart at the fact.

She would have been the first to make him break it.

"A few days." He agreed. "But after that we make for the coast."

It would have been a lie to say that he didn't want to stay there just as much as she. There was comfort in this place, beds, blankets, and...well he knew that they could enjoy themselves here.

If only for a brief glimpse.
 
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She flopped back gently on the granite-tiled floor. Her long legs bent at the knees, letting the water soak up to her calves. Hands folded across her stomach as she looked up at the dark, cavern wall. Rusty-red hair fanned across the decking.

A happy sigh left her lips.

"I'll take a few days."

A small smile.

A tug at his shirt.

"Let me see the new mark." A frown transitioning to her mouth.
 
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Myr let out a chuckle. "Ah is that what you're doing."

His fingers reached out, not to remove his shirt, but instead to gently slip beneath the hem of...well the shirt that graced her own body. She would feel his touch on her leg, slowly sliding up as the cloth slipped higher and higher.

"Here I thought your attentions were more untoward." A smile played over his lips, fingers grazing up her skin.

In truth, he could feel the pain of the new mark on his chest, though it was less agony and more of a constant roiling storm that remained in place. As her hand tugged, her allowed her to at least drag the claw higher to reveal the oddly whiteish mark on his flesh.

It seemed to shift for a second, and then come to a stop.
 
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A pinch of her lips, trying to stall the smile that was spreading there. Wherever his fingers went, left her skin feeling like fire. He made it hard to concentrate.

She propped herself up slightly, both hands going to tug his shirt open and up. If it ripped a little? Oh well.

Call it pay-back.

"This one is a different color," she commented quietly, his hand trailing along her skin making her voice husky and low.
 
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Myr didn't seem to mind her shifting his shirt, letting her look at the odd mark on his flesh as his fingers continued their path slowly up her thighs.

His touch was slow, practiced, salacious. There was a quiet neediness to it, though Myr said nothing to that affect. Instead he simply allowed his finger to trail over her skin, drawing small lines of flame as he rose higher and higher.

"It happens sometimes." He explained.

His attention was clearly not on what he was saying, but rather on her. The shirt that might as well have been a dress was pulled further and further up, slowly baring her to him. "A few of them have been purple, some even red."

He shrugged, pulling up the cloth even further.
 
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Was this elf magic?

How did he manage to so smoothly and easily pull her clothing off? Every time. It's like he defied gravity or any obstacle in the way.

With a small lift of her arms, she allowed him to pull it the rest of the way. Olive skin bare before the man for the second time since they met. She tugged his own shirt the rest of the way off. It was a little ripped.

Only fair.

One of her hands settled on his hip, fingers splayed. While his attention was on her, her own was on him, eyes searching the edges of the new mark.
 
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