Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » I Dreamed of Snow (OPEN)

A retinue of guards wearing the royal heraldry paraded through the streets, carrying bobbing torches to light their way through the dark night. Behind the two by two columns, two horses pulled an iron cage. The women inside wore a gown; the light pink silk was ripped and bloody. Her unsual, white hair curled over her far shoulder, exposing a bruise on her cheek. The women herself was hunched over, her blue eyes acknowledged nothing but the straw covered floor beneath her curled fingers. One could smell the smoke on the breeze as they moved forward and through the destroyed village. Houses and stone buildings alike, lay in ashes and utter ruined. But perhaps the most eerie thing of the scene around them, were the amount of dead bodies. Their eyes glazed open and mouths twisted in position of pain.

"By the gods, what happened here?" Whispered one of the guards in a mixture of horror and awe. How could a once normal village be reduced to utter ashes by a mere women. Hearing the questioned raised, the women stirred but her eyes stayed glued to the cold floor below her.
"Simple," She began, her voice slightly detached and unfeeling. "I dreamed of snow..."

Talia ran until her breath became ragged and her lungs were fit to burst, but the great beast was still breathing down her neck, snarling with hunger and rage. Her legs were not long enough to make the leaps and bounds she was attempting through the barren landscape. It had gained on her considerably, despite her best efforts to evade the dark, shadowy creature of fur, fangs and powerful muscle. Finding a steep uptake in the area, she raced as fast as she could to it, scrambling desperately to reach the top.
"Somebody help" She shouted, though she could barely hear herself over the growling of the beast. Her bare feet searched vainly to find purchase, but her hand slipped, causing her to lose her feeble grip and skid roughly to the bottom, straight into the enormous paws of the predator.

The shadow lunged forward with a roar, teeth bearing down upon her. She screamed in her final moments and felt the cold touch of snow touch her skin...

"Talia?"
Her eyes shot open in surprise. Kneeling beside her, a women-one she had learned to love and call 'Mother'-held a hand out to her. Staring openly, her large sky blue eyes watered suddenly.
"A-am I dead?" She stammered, her small voice shaking.

"No," Her mother's eyes smiled sympathetically, "You don't need to be afraid; it was only but a dream dear." A look of concern crossed her face before she added, "But what could've caused you such fear? What did you dream of Talia?"

Shaking her head to clear her mind of it's haze, Talia blinked before suddenly blurting.
"I dreamed of Snow..."


(Hello, and welcome to this new project of mine. This rp shall take place before Talia is locked away but after she has this odd and confusing dream. What exactly happened to Talia's village? Why is she, seemingly the only survivor? Who are you amongst it's people? A simple traveler or fellow villager? When the time comes, did you survive the destruction of the village or do you lay amongst the dead? It is up for you to decide...Feel free to jump in~)

(Hi, I just joined this site so uh I hope I do well)

Fendir stretches his tired limbs in his payed room at the village's inn. He hears his limbs crack satisfyingly before he knapsack lays neatly on the small table.
The ends of long week of traveling requires a warm bed and a hearty meal. Luckily, he actually has the money to pay for all of these luxuries; not like last time.
A small pat to his money pouch brings a grin to the man's face. "Try not to spend it all," he mutters to himself. What to do now? Probably start searching for short jobs around the village. He fixes the cowl over his head, slips his bow back on and brushes his hand over the scar across his eyes. Let's hope no one doesn't decline any job to him just cause he's the "poor sod who can't see."

The traveler slowly heads downstairs, feeling the comforting warmth of the inn. He greets the owner before stepping outside. The smell of food makes his head turn. Man, when was the last time he treated himself to something nice? The money pouch feeling heavy on his waist, he gave into the aroma and began to follow where it came from.

Being rather small, it was easy for Faeryn to watch the man come downstairs. From their small corner table, they silently eyed the man, glancing him up and down as they wondered what adventure he had come in from. Faeryn decided to trail the man, curious as to his intentions and history, since they were fairly new in town, and this man was the most interesting person they had seen in the past week of staying in this inn. They lifted their emerald cloak hood over their fiery red hair, the light of the fireplace reflecting from their shining silver eyes and stood up, following the man outside.

Fendir guides himself to where the pleasant smell was originating from. A hole, possibly a window, is open to his right. The smell turns familiar; pastries perhaps? Fendir places a hand on the window sill and calls to the person inside, "Are you by chance a bakery?" He feels the head look up. "Why yes, didn't you read the sign?" says a woman's voice.
"Sorry, I didn't read it. Are you open?"
"Get in, you silly stranger. I just made a fresh batch of sweet rolls and crepes. Ten copper a piece," she says. Fendir locates the door and enters the bakery. He doesn't bother with the presence that's been following him. He shouldn't assume things, maybe the person - probably a female if he would guess - wanted a crepe? Stupid thought, but he didn't mind.
The bells on the door ring when it opens wide and closes shortly. He maps out the room in his mind before taking his place at the glass counter. "One crepe and two sweet rolls, ma'am." He says politely. His face turned to the floor so the cowl of his obscures his facial looks.

Faeryn's pointed ears prick as they hear the sound of the man's voice, causing them to glide towards the window after he had gone inside the bakery. At their full height of 5'5", they were barely able to peer inside the window. Seeing that the man was turned to order, they slid inside the bakery, attempting to make as little noise as possible, yet cringing as the bell chimed as the door opened. Trying to make it seem like they weren't following him, Faeryn faced the pastries, playing it off like they only came in to buy some baked goods, even though they had no money to their name.

The baker slides three warm pastries into the paper bag. The paper crinkles at the weight of the food. Fendir smiles at the thought of eating something pretty soon. He feels the coins in his palm to pick out the right amount and slides them towards the lady. She picks up the money one by one then hands over the bag. "Thank you," Fendir mutters, having all his focus on the bag's presence.
More customers enter the bakery; odd for a town not so populated but he guesses that this place is well liked here. Fendir makes his way back to the door, accidentally bumping into incoming customers from his naive loss of focus.
He remembers that he assumed someone was following him but lost their presence to his need. He already has his hand in the bag after a few steps away from the bakery.
Food, check. Now, jobs around town. This was usually the awkward part for him because he seemed like a desperate wandering hobo in need of a job - well, he is similar to that but that's not the
point.
Retracing his steps back to the inn, Fendir almost finishes the first sweet roll. It wasn't too expensive, thankfully. He pats down to his side for the money pounch.
He freezes, roll still in his mouth before eating it quickly. "Oh crap," he mutters. He pats all around his waist but the feel of bag wasn't there anymore. He must have left it back at the bakery from the daze of getting food.

As the man nears Faeryn on his way out the door, they shiver at the thought of close contact with him. They watch him walk down the street, about to lose interest in following him, when they see a coinpurse, the same coinpurse the man was carrying with him. Faeryn gingerly picked it up, and ran out the door, hoping to catch up with the man. As they near the inn, Faeryn stumbles into someone, being so intent on returning the money that they didn't notice someone in front of them. As Faeryn regains their stability, they notice that the person they stumbled into was the same man they were looking for. In a heavy feminine Irish accent, Faeryn said, "Excuse me sir, my name's Faeryn. I do believe you left your coinpurse at the bakery. Rest assured, I've not stolen from it, my only interest is returning it."

In his short panic, Fendir doesn't notice the person heading towards him. He gets startled from the sudden contact with someone and freezes. The traveler relaxed when she introduces herself.
The sound of coins clinging in her hand gives him a sense of relief. "Thanks, I thought I'd have to go begging for a little coin if I lost this. Faeryn, I'm in your debt."
Now that he's regaining his focus, he remembers Faeryn's aura as the one he thought was following him. "If you'd like, I got a sweet roll you can eat. You can ask me whatever that made you follow me." He couldn't steer away from his cation. He's had done favors that has given him a few enemies in the past.

Faeryn gasps quietly as he offers a sweet roll to them. "Thank you sir, nobody's been this kind to me before. I was following you simply out of curiosity, you seem the type of man to enjoy adventuring to a degree, and that interested me. I haven't seen an adventurer in a while, not since I was cast from my homeland. I was just curious, no need to worry!" Faeryn smiled up at him. Suddenly, they sneezed, green and gold light erupting from them.

Ivan's sister was a wonderful gift. He knew that now, but he felt it less. His heart had forgotten the loneliness of a world without her.

The particularly grueling day had turned his mind's focus on much less important matters; a good thirty customers had filled the small bakery, and his usually comfortable afternoon (spent watching the ox as it treaded grain in hypnotic circles) was stolen.

Three of those thirty had left impressions he'd rather forget. They were thorns in his heart; there was no controlling their prickly bite. Worst of all was that drunkard of a butcher. He'd ripped Ivan's coat collar, his seething, stanking breaths threatening Ivan, that a lashing was due to make the boy bloody and blue. All because the young man would not lower the price a haypenny. That scumbag. He'd treated Ivan like an unwanted mutt when Ivan was too young to fight back. It should be no surprise he'd never changed. The rotten man even made his wife cry for mercy on his worse nights. He was a shame to the village. If only I'd a knife, and the courage to use it, Ivan thought. That violent brute would know the pain he's wrought.

Ivan let out the tension with a sigh. He did not want to think about this any longer. The thoughts were ugly.

One last swipe of the counter with his rag, the work day was done. Ivan was ready to be idle.

Yet the hacking coughs of young Marie, and a growing cry to follow forbade Ivan some rest.

"Oh, no!" Mother's voice was shrill. "Quick, the tonic!"

Father rushed past Ivan, opening and slamming the cupboards. He muttered in haste under his breath, and found it, drawing it out.

"Empty." Father said through his teeth. "Ivan, fetch some. Make haste!"

"Father, you can do it as well as I. Why should I be the one?"

Father's furious eyes shone with hate, and Ivan shrunk. Dropping the rag, Ivan nodded and said "Yes, sir."

Off he went, taking the jar with him and stuffing it in a sack. The door closed behind him, but he could still hear the coughs, and mother's wailing "Not her too! Oh, please, Jove! Not my sweet Marie."

His steps were brisk on the cobblestone street.

Ivan's heart was storming.

Fendir becomes curious at the sudden burst of energy from Faeryn when she sneezed. "Alright, I'll tell you my story if you tell me yours. Seems like you've had your share in adventures." He pauses for a moment, interrupted by curious noises.

The sound of a beating heart catches his sensitive ears. Rushed footsteps echo on the town's cobblestone streets. Fendir tries to pay no mind to the hasteful person. A male, most likely, from the height; Fendir maybe a tad short for his age but he didn't care.

He continues, "Guide me to the town's tavern and we could share stories, shall we? Besides, that location is on my list of places I need to go to get a minor job in this town."

The patterns of fate were beautiful today, Talia thought as she walked the cobblestone path. She could see and read everyone who occupied this village and honestly could change it with a simple wave of her left hand. But Talia's side hobbie of reading other's fates would have to wait for now. She did still have chores that needed to be done.

Quickly she glanced at the small parchment paper that held a list of items she would need, all neatly written in her Mother's decorative cursive.
Two loaves of bread...A bundle of apples...New Spices...
These and more could be found here and there around the small village and Talia felt at ease to do such a mundane task for her household. After all, Talia's Mother was swamped with work from her living as an Arcana, studying the ways of magic and all artifacts related to the subject.

Heading for the general market, Talia made sure to place her list in a safe place before taking a small detour down the street to avoid running into the main square. There would be too many fates to read and Talia would no doubt get distracted by all the different designs from everyone who occupied that area. Sighing as she approached the bakery, Talia made a quick side step to avoid the slightly disgruntled boy who ran out in front of her. His fate lines were twisted and knotted, signs of something grim in his young life. What could possibly be troubling him?

Pink blotched the edge of Ivan's neck. Some of the skin had been scraped off in patches. Ivan didn't bother to hide it, but the marring burned roughly. It wouldn't let him forget the butcher's treatment, stuck it searing at the forefront of his mind. In trying and failing to suppress the memory, Ivan was doing that bad habit again, but didn't notice it. He clicked and ground his teeth.

The furrows in Ivan's brow deepened, and a shadow fell over his eyes. The wood door swung open, and he slammed it shut behind him. The sun was bright; his sight narrowed, he squinted. He took his first step outside the bakery and at a shadow of movement, he barely caught it; someone nearly walked right into him.

Ivan stumbled to the side, catching himself, but scraping the soles of his shoes on the stone. His head snapped up, the glare in his eyes for whoever stood in his path.

He recognized the perpetrator immediately; Sapientia's daughter, adopted. She stood out, with her snow-white hair and rain-blue eyes. His lips tightened. He'd never liked that stuck-up attitude of hers. Even now she was staring at him coolly, probably thinking he was some clumsy oaf and blaming him for this whole situation.

"Well?" He said after a spell. His arms went outward, the palms out in the furious question. "Nothing to say? You practically crashed into me just now, and you can't even spare me an apology?"

Talia took a breath, her blue eyes seeming to shimmer as she spoke.
"Ah, Good morning" She smiled with a small warmth in Ivan's general direction. Talia had been so occupied in reading into his tapestry of fate, that she had forgotten to speak. Quickly her eyes studied the pink and bruised marks upon Ivan's neck and Talia had half the mind to ask him how he had gotten them. Was this a source for one of the tangled knots in his fate?

Blinking to clear her thoughts, Talia switched her views and focused on something else to say. She didn't know Ivan too well to hold a decent conversation with him but Talia did know the situation with his sister. Her terrible coughing could be heard from even outside...Poor dear. Every chance Talia got, she would read into the young girl's fate and see if she could preserve her life any longer. Unfortunately it didn't look too good. Talia would ask her mother if she could help their family somehow.

"Where are you going today?" Talia oft on asking, thinking of nothing else to ask that wouldn't seem to anger the lad anymore than he currently was. He looked like he was ready to murder anyone right now...

Cathorine soon arrived to the small humble village. She walked quiet a ways to return to her Ice Fortress in the mountains. Cathorine thought to herself "Well, I might as well stay here before doing one last push getting home". Cathorine knew she would stand out in the village, her weird skin color and her crystallized ice armor and staff are bound to turn heads. As she approached the tavern heads did turn, some were out of curiosity, fearful, and hate, but none of those fazed her since she knew could do damage to this village if she wanted to. She soon approached the bar keep and sat at the bar and gave him two gold pieces for a room for the night. She knew two gold pieces is way too much for a room and a drink, but she did it anyway. She looked at the barkeep and asked "One tankard of Ale, please" The barkeep acknowledge and gave her her ale since her two gold pieces covered her drink or drinks if she wanted more. Before she drank, she placed her staff right next to her up against the bar and forced her hand into a fist and placed it over the ale. She produced some ice shards, which cooled the ale even more. She took a swig and declared "That hit's the spot!"

Despite the odd looks cast at his appearance, the humanoid feline glided along the street with a poise tailored to his kind. He had no coin, but knew his way around a barter and would be glad to work for even a smidge of wealth.

His eyes darted around for anyone who might want to give him a job, eventually setting on the local bakery. He walked in with an air of confidence, and eyes that clearly conveyed he wanted work.