- Messages
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- Character Biography
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Two months had gone by since Livia graduated.
Two months since she now bore the title Dreadlord Quinnick.
Two months since she restarted her hunting and tracking for this artifact with Cenric's help.
Two months since... she last saw him.
Silas, the one she claimed that had her heart, but going away on this mission made it too easy to enjoy time away from him. She had stopped writing letters to him, not that she even sent the majority of them. No one knew where to send letters to her, and she wondered if a return to Vel Anir would be an avalanche of letters from friends and loved ones. Maybe there would be none. That, she was used to.
Her birthday had been three weeks ago, and Cenric had insisted the pair stop by a town and indulge in cake and tea, Liv's preference, to mark the start of her adult life now at eighteen.
The day after that, they were being followed again. The pair ventured on south, moving at a pace none were delighted about, but after some weeks, Livia begged for some rest. There were no more towns, no more cities. It was themselves in the elements, their gear well stocked and used, but it did not quench the young Dreadlord's instinct to keep moving. Her body insisted for this small reprieve, to slow down just a few days or else her sanity would cost her dearly.
It was well past midnight when Livia woke with a stir. Something moved beyond her tent, the brush rustling with movement. She waited a breath before deeming it was one of Cenric's vessels keeping watch, but there was a connection she had not felt in months.
Familiarity.
Livia held her breath. Surely it was a trick, that her magic kept directing her gaze to the thin flap of cloth closing her tent from the environment. Her hand reached for a knife kept at the side of her sleeping roll, readying it to strike when the time deemed it so.
This was a trick. This was foolish of him.
And Livia's anger began to brew.
Two months since she now bore the title Dreadlord Quinnick.
Two months since she restarted her hunting and tracking for this artifact with Cenric's help.
Two months since... she last saw him.
Silas, the one she claimed that had her heart, but going away on this mission made it too easy to enjoy time away from him. She had stopped writing letters to him, not that she even sent the majority of them. No one knew where to send letters to her, and she wondered if a return to Vel Anir would be an avalanche of letters from friends and loved ones. Maybe there would be none. That, she was used to.
Her birthday had been three weeks ago, and Cenric had insisted the pair stop by a town and indulge in cake and tea, Liv's preference, to mark the start of her adult life now at eighteen.
The day after that, they were being followed again. The pair ventured on south, moving at a pace none were delighted about, but after some weeks, Livia begged for some rest. There were no more towns, no more cities. It was themselves in the elements, their gear well stocked and used, but it did not quench the young Dreadlord's instinct to keep moving. Her body insisted for this small reprieve, to slow down just a few days or else her sanity would cost her dearly.
It was well past midnight when Livia woke with a stir. Something moved beyond her tent, the brush rustling with movement. She waited a breath before deeming it was one of Cenric's vessels keeping watch, but there was a connection she had not felt in months.
Familiarity.
Livia held her breath. Surely it was a trick, that her magic kept directing her gaze to the thin flap of cloth closing her tent from the environment. Her hand reached for a knife kept at the side of her sleeping roll, readying it to strike when the time deemed it so.
This was a trick. This was foolish of him.
And Livia's anger began to brew.