The Dark Realmz
IC Central [RPG ONLY] => "Ayenee Nexus: Where Imagination Knows No Bounds => RP Archives 2005-2019 => Topic started by: on May 14, 2008, 03:34:34 AM
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The trees, calming. The leaves, rustling. The wind, whistling. It was almost as if this day was made for her, this day could have been a transition in her life, just from the beauty of the outdoors. The grass raced with the sounds of the wind, whispering itâs messages and forming itâs shapes, as the lines of the glistening sunlight performed a match of eloquence against the womanâs eyes. Her hair, long, red, beautiful, shining in the sun like fire, as if it was raised from the pit of the sun itself, though her skin seemed untouched by itâs rays. Pale and almost completely to a white color, milky, but seemed inviting, and soft, especially in the small rips of revealing clothing she wore. It was obvious to any outsider that she was indeed a necromancer by profession, maybe profession was even too much for her to be classified as, because she did not know anyone here. This was a strange place, she was looking around as if she were a lost puppy, though, it did not seem she was in search of a mother, just in search of a good challenge. She was not of the compassionate spirit, though she did realize that the people around here have to have some spirit of kindness, considering the beautiful landscape. Itâs more than one could imagine, as if you wake up in a field of illusions just to make your minds hunger go to rest of what beauty naturally is. She decided to make hast from this meadow she was in, her head still spinning from the events before, suffering from slight amnesia? Who knows what was going through her head, but she knew that the little human that was left in her needed to find somewhere familiar, needed to find a fight, find an accomplice, and most of all, find a home.
A graveyard, perhaps? The wind kicked up and made the fabrics perform a show on the skin of her body, the dark purples and blacks contrasting greatly with her skin color. As if she were a precious jewel wrapped in some sort of garbage. It was true, the outfit she was wearing was peculiar, the top had not straps, and was just enough fabric to cover her breasts, dark lavender, ripped and showing some of her goods while just covering enough to make her complete body a mystery. Her overcoat was almost black, though had green colors in the sun, glistening and making part of what colors were flattering to her hair, as the fiery red crashed into the green by the wind, like an ocean beating on rocks, but in a much, much softer way. The skirt she wore was feminine for one reason, it was short, but just long enough to cover what was important, though the cloak she wore covered the back of said skirt, her yew wand was in plain view. It was what seemed like a glowing skull on the end of a stick, the skull obviously human, which showed how much killing and blood had been on her hands throughout her life. She looked to her thigh, to check and covered her leg with the cloak, though she wanted a fight, she couldnât risk one in this land, she did not know the powers of whom she might face, after all, though her magics are very well trained, she had no way to defend herself against a melee battle. Her boots ran all the way up her legs, hugging her thighs, made of cloth, as if they could even be classified as boots, like the rest of her outfit it seemed as though it was made out of gauze, bandages, or very cheap cloth.
The only solid things on her were the necklaces she wore, one almost like a shark tooth, and another like a dragon talon, the others were the shrunken heads on her gnarled staff. The shrunken heads just to her, symbolized her tribal nature, and that she could not bring herself to insult, let alone fight, a druid out of respect. She continued to walk, out in the open from this meadow, trying to keep her vision sharp for signs of smoke, signs of any human interaction. She needed to find a moist ground where the dead could be disturbed. She needed to find home.