Collab Freedom Comes At A Price

Abonanding their homeland and deserting allegiances, our young adolescents finally set out on their journey for freedom... Yet at what cost?

Stronghold of education and learning, this fortress is in one of the coldest areas of Idalos and home to many knowledge seekers in a variety of disciplines. However, unknown to most, below the city are those who suffer for the sake of science. While all are welcome, not everyone will be treated as they expect

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Raven Lockheart
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Freedom Comes At A Price

Sat Jul 27, 2019 5:36 am








18th Trial of Ymiden, Arc 719.... Frozenlands of Northern Idalos

Eyes shot open to a returned state of consciousness; greeted hostilely by the furious melody of unforgiving, tundra winds. The awakened figure lay there, listless; fogged vision fixed upon the ceiling of the crude shelter constructed for her.
... What time was it? ... How long had she slept? ... Was it morning, afternoon, or still night?
Time felt absent in this dreary, merciless landscape...

The body still felt lethargic, unrested. Drowsy lids attempted to return back to that dimensionless realm of temporary assuage; Yet, piercing temperatures raced to torment her returned senses. One asleep felt nothing; They escaped from the afflictions of this temporal realm, if only for but a moment. Maladies of the body withdrew, frustrations of the mind retreated into a temporary state of freedom; Yet... that was the problem.

Temporary...

Temporary... Until one finally opened their eyes to the bitter reality; They were still prisoners of their afflictions.

Get up...

The inward command resounded with sternness.

Get up...

Muscles lay inactive.

I said—get up, Raven.

And the body stimulated into action; With a long, labored groan the youth finally sat up in her sleeping bag.

“Nnngggn, ” would become the first verbal utterance to depart from the young female's lips as a hand groggily lifted to rub her forehead and eyes; consummating with a nosebridge squeeze. A length of distrait, tangent-coursed thought transpired afore the female's attention inevitably turned to the other sleeping bag to her side.

“Hey... Blue Boy,” grumpily greeted the derogative, “You still alive?”

word count: 268
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Crevil Arivuz'Arix
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Re: Freedom Comes At A Price

Sat Jul 27, 2019 9:03 pm

With a filtered lens of sight, the dim confines of their shelter had come into view. No later did the entrapping layers of furs and fabrics to contain and circulate heat came to feeling; the fine prickles of the furs most notably, as they brushed and tickled the skin upon rustling to stir the fatigued muscles to life.
As the lucidity of being conscious slowly crept into the confines of his mind; so did the bitter cold that while familiar and common to the ex-ranger, it was still no less loathed by the young man. It wasn't just apparent from the piercing breeze of wind that trickled through the cracks of the make-shift shelter and entryway; but too where the speckles of snow and ice that traced themselves onto the covers and flooring of their little abode. This in itself wasn't tragic, or unheard of either; while it was true he was new to constructing these shelters, even some experienced fieldsmen and women would often find their little blankets of harmless snow.

"Troublesome." He mused in the comforts of his mind, twisting his form he had caught the form of his companion who'd been sleeping rather noisily throughout the passing of the arctic night. It was this realization that he figured it must have been a noise, or some sort from her that drew him to the surface of consciousness. With an efforted gaze towards the partially covered entry, his intent was to gauge the daylight; which with the drained black of the backdrop, he presumed it was close to morn. "Nnn-- A little longer." The lull of his exhaustion made his thoughts even seem distant, as if they tugged at him as the rest of his body whisked itself into another state of half-slumber.

...

What felt only seconds to him, the blinds of his eyelids lifted once more; this time to actual words and a familiar feminine voice that cracked the metaphorical ice of his slumber. "Course I'm alive; after-all hearing the screams from The Beneath.. How could I not?" Raising himself from the slumber, as if rehearsed and practiced he was already sitting up-right, twisting his torso and stretching the functioning limbs for blood-flow and waking the muscles up. With closed eyes, he steadied his breathing and started counting in his head; pacing his circulatory rhythm as he was taught"An' I have a name, we've known each other for how long?" He retorted to the racism, though his tone advocated it as a tease; there was perhaps a dash of sincerity behind the words.

Revealing his attention back to the world, his piercing azure eyes studied the girl beside him; her youthful features grounding him to understanding the predicament they found themselves in. It had been a number of days since they deserted their posts and admittedly, thieved items that did not belong to either-- But Crevil understood that the lands were unforgiving and vast enough that they likely wouldn't even bother sending a hunt. Those who made the decisions probably just opted to believe that the two of them would die in the lands, and their goods would be retrieved whenever they happened across them.

With a pursed breath, he ushered himself to a half-stand in the low-set sheltering. "I'll go get a fire started for food; you can get ready to go or whatever you girls do." A jab of his own was thrown out; his expression betrayed the intention, given it's genuine show of concern exuded. With that, he departed through the coverings of branches, leaves and cloth layering constructed as their encampment.

Given the tools he had at his disposal from the goods he procured on a semi-permanent borrowing matter; he gathered the best wood, sticks and dry-material to erect a campfire. It wasn't anything to be shot into awe over, but it sufficed and with ample covering of their environment's natural hills and trees it was able to keep itself burning and providing warmth. Sometime during this process, Crevil procured a formerly captured and killed rabbit from a snow mound to keep it frozen and began to cook it over the fire. "Just in-case. I think we should take off as soon as we're done eating and ready to go."

There he sat, on what would-be a makeshift stool; which really was just a dragged over piece of wood. His drained teenage features plastered over his face, as the fire sent hard contrast shadows to etch across his face.
word count: 777
Injuries -Cuts/Bruises (Torso/Face) | Oversteps -Wanderlust | Witchmark -Rupture Gleam
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Raven Lockheart
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Re: Freedom Comes At A Price

Mon Jul 29, 2019 5:52 am











"The Beneath...?"

A visible twitch of the right eye followed afore curtains narrowed into a sharp gaze, denoting the young female’s obvious displeasure as she observed the male arise to execute his typical awakening routine. Admittingly, his seemingly effortless ability to immediately transition from slumber to wakefulness and action habitually wildered the teen; a testament to the Ranger’s training, no doubt. Yet, even but a shallow observation of his haggard features revealed the wear this treacherous venture was having upon even one descended from the renowned masters of survival.
Despite all her zeal and devotion, inside, even Raven pondered just how much longer the two would be able to continue forward. Food felt scarcer by the day; each brought-in hunt less fulfilling than the last the further the duo progressed through the frozen wilds. Supplies were dwindling withal.
Far from the convenient entrepôts and accustomed comforts of civilization, forbye the very nature of their departure, the covered distance from Viden disallowed for even the very notion of return at this point; regardless of any regret or intensity of pining for sacrificed luxuries.


"Yes, yes; do go make yourself somewhat useful, finally—Crevil Arivuvuvuvu.” The female's hand waved with dismissive fashion, as a queen would to servants.
Watching the figure disappear into the wilds, the youth dawdled some additional moments; eventually mustering enough energy to lean over and acquire the sack to her other side. Groggily rummaging about her possessions, longer than an observer might deem reasonable, she'd finally locate her desired object.
Flipping open the lid of the shabby tin container, she'd listlessly browse through the remaining contents; lips knitting to the side, drawing a frown.... Even the supplements were running short. Fingers sifted about, eventually securing their desired choice; Vitamin C.

Crrraack

.... Bloody hell—It was like biting into a rock! How she longed to finally escape this perpetually-frozen wasteland!

The horse-bristled hygienic tool sounded its familiar brushing patterns, whilst the teen examined her features in the handheld mirror. Brows furrowed with displeasure upon recognizing the dry-skinned, fatigued visage gazing back at her; ushering the retrieval of her third item—a tin of oil.
Fingers worked to massage conservative amounts of the contents into her face and neck; consummating the limited-resourced hygienic and skin-caring routine.

Upon his return, esurient eyes followed the Ranger's every motion as he worked to kindle the pair’s sole alleviation from the merciless cold; impatient for the first meal of the day.

“... It’s small,” murmured the grumbling teen, head tilted aside; akin to the way a disappointed child might upon opening a gift of unfulfilled expectations.... One questioned whether she’d even given ear to the male’s suggestion.
Half-standing to retrieve and lay a piece of wood of her own sideways, creating a pseudo-bench for herself, the youth took a seat. Slouching forward, the young female's arms outstretched to embrace the soothing warmth. Her exhausted countenance eventually lifted to study her own companion’s, but the crackling of flames audible in the stillness.
“You look awful,” informed the curt statement with deadpan delivery. “Are we to freeze to death out here, like this rabbit? Even he’d provide more meat than us. We’ll either freeze or starve⁠—Do you even know where we are? Frozen in the wilds—after all that effort! Imagine the humiliation! What an awful legacy!”

word count: 581
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Crevil Arivuz'Arix
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Re: Freedom Comes At A Price

Tue Jul 30, 2019 2:07 am

18th Trial of Ymiden, Arc 719 - Frozenlands of Northern Idalos - Dawn

From the moment their awakening began to nearing the end; Crevil caught ihmself sending subtle sneers at his companion and her over-all demeanor. The drawing desire to say something in revolt to her attitude was bubbling beneath the skin, out of sight; but not out of mind. In order to help contain his mind and composure; he found himself hyper-focusing on the rabbit being slowly cooked over the petty fire that sufficed as their hearth for the time being. It wasn't that he was unaware of her actions, from the generally pointless routines of hygiene and beauty that he saw from the corner of his eye; but he did feel that at this point, so early in their journey that trying to cause a ruckus wasn't going to benefit either of them--

While he maintained his composure staring carefully at the food; given the fact he valued the importance of the food-- But when the snips started flowing more like a current than droplets; did he start to clench down on his teeth- Of course until the end of her spouting whines.

"Tch-- Look, it's what we got. Want somethin' bigger? Go bloody hunt it yourself, we've got light tools-- 'n we go hunting larger prey, we'll start attracting more than the likely huntsmen of the Ranger-- The beasts will start noticin' and then we'll be next in their pecking order." He coolly spoke, the crystalline air shivering as each breath pushes forwards towards the burning heat of the campfire. His eyes danced the reflective light of the floating embers as he lost his focus; drained of his energy so soon in the day. Saving the ignorance feigned on the comment of his appearances he continued dryly. "We both may've chosen to do this; but I need y'to be a bit more supportive than dabbing your rottin' face and being bitter about things than y'are now. Want more food? Help me hunt, I'll teach you-- But we keep it small, the smells will draw things, the blood will lure monsters and people... Don't wanna freeze? Help me gather wood'n get a fire going bigger, we get a bigger fire; we reduce the time it's active and zero during the nights-- Same problem, we'll get found... I ain't doin' this half-ass work because I can't do more, I do it cause we need to stay alive..." He paused, peering at her; a piercing gaze through the azurite blue eyes having appeared to bore deep in her-- As if he sought to entrench a thought. "We're both criminals. And to be frank, if you're going to be dead-weight, or rude; I can just leave without you. We go back, so I don't want to- But I can't return to Viden, and nor you. So keep that in mind."

Exhausting a breath, he drew the rabbit back from the flame and started tearing the stretchy and sinewy meat from the bones and offered some too the girl. "Eat, when you're done start tearin' the shelter down. I'll get the horses ready 'n make sure the path forward is clear for some miles horizon."
Without further adieu, he stood straight and like a bolt. With meat in hand, a full mouth bit down as he started walking off through the crunching snow and ice. In only moments he vanished to the blinding white of the morning light; one could tell he was going towards a shelter of branches and leaves for the pair of horses as they neighed faintly as he drew nearer. One could predict it would only take about twenty minutes before the creatures were ready, and that he did a quick scout to return.
word count: 657
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Raven Lockheart
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Re: Freedom Comes At A Price

Fri Aug 02, 2019 10:00 pm











The deepening scowl painting the teen’s features communicated her swelling offense. Yet, not an audible utter departed from pursed lips against gritted teeth; despite how greatly her expression appeared desirous to oppose. It hadn’t been clearly evident whether the youth had reluctantly submitted to the male’s rationale, simply hadn’t yet found the words to retaliate, or miraculously had been restraining herself somehow. Yet, what had been clearly evident were the tinges of red surfacing upon her chilled countenance... Embarrassment? Seething indignation? Mayhap even both.
Haughty eyes averted from their reprimander, an antagonistic “Hmph!” expelling from their possessor’s lips; Just who did he think she was? To even mention the very notion of sending her out in such parlous, murderous conditions—to chase after rabbits and dead wood! How insensitive! She was no rugged footsoldier—but a scholar! A master of her craft! ... Or at least, she would be.

Invading gelidity from the reopened entryway reminded Raven of the awaiting brutality outside; her piercing gaze following the object of her ire in their departure, lingering upon the exit some length—The nerve!
“I’m not dead weight!” hollered the denial, as if having waited for the male to reach a certain distance from the makeshift shelter; It almost appeared spontaneous. Ire-filled teeth bitterly tore into their meal.
“Who does he think he is?” grumbled a mouth full of meat. “Telling me off like that—I’m plenty of useful! I may be unable to hunt”—teeth angrily tore into another bite—”but I’ve helped aplenty! Like”—dark-brown hues pensively fixed upon the dancing flame afront, as if it provided all the necessary answers—”Yes—aplenty!”
This symphony of crackling fire, embittered breakfast chomping, and indignant, full-mouthed grumbling would become the shelter's music up until the very consummation of the young female’s meal.

From out the entryway eventually flung the poorly rolled sleeping bag, and then the second; both colliding into the deep snow outside, afore their sack-sporting tosser also emerged from her abode. A single arm lifted afront her assaulted visage, striving to shield it from thrashing winds.... The teen immediately regretted her leave.
Snow-crunching boots reluctantly progressed through the frozen hell once more, sleep-ridden eyes narrowing as they labored to readjust to the outside. Afar as they could see, naught but white and faint blue hues; signs of civilization still inexistent. A discouraged sigh heaved... How much longer?
“I’ll show you dead-weight,” murmured another grumble against howling winds, as the female prepped for her assigned task. “You’ll regret when the time arrives—I hear it now: ‘Raven! Raven! Forgive my offenses! How gravely sorry I am to have called you dead-weight! I beg of you—deliver me from this tragedy!'” The strength of each upward hammering seemed to intensify in synchronization with swelling emotions as she worked to uproot the deeply-lodged, metal peg.
“And!” she'd spout on, locks flapping violently against her face, somewhat obscuring her line of sight, “You wouldn’t have even left home if not for me!”

word count: 527
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Crevil Arivuz'Arix
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Re: Freedom Comes At A Price

Sat Aug 03, 2019 5:45 am

18th Trial of Ymiden, Arc 719 - Frozenlands of Northern Idalos - Dawn

Eyes fellow to the bellowing nostrils, the pluming crystalline air licked across the bare skin of his cheeks and chin; a worn scarf wrapped around his neck accumulated a thin layer of frost from the transferred moisture. His attention drew here not due to the simple exchange of heat and cold; but out of consideration of his past words. A twang of guilt was plucking away at his heart and mind after he had let out pent up frustrations- Despite it being more-or-less mild-mannered, to him; it was a flare something that erupted and engulfed his mind and emotion thereon. "Was I too hard, I wonder?" While his thoughts wandered through his deliberative mind, a quiet neigh and burst of air flushed around his face and reminded him of his other duties.
Eyes locked with the horse, he ran a gentle hand along the length of the muzzle; reassuring the horse with quiet cooing and affirming his presence was that of a friend, rather than that of a predator. As some minutes elapsed, the young boy had inevitably had the two horses saddled and equipped with a novice's skill on the matter, it was shoddy; but something that would work for the time. "Yosh, alright; let's go you two." Drawing them with a gentle voice, he had the two horses led by their reigns as he walked carefully watching the path to avoid any risk of stumbling or other loose bits that could damage the horses' hooves or bones.

Upon drawing nearer to their camp a shrill voice started calling out too-- Seeming nothing in particular, except perhaps calling upon some old gods for their unholy emotions. Despite his assumptions, and fair confidence it was nothing; there was an underlying concern for the girls' health, even if she was on a rougher side of his mind at the present. Making due haste, he kept the horses with him, but the walk turned brisk to make way to the camp quicker.
About fifteen feet from the landing of their campsite, he slowed; having made the incomprehensible words come clear. "Lovely-- She is just making noise for the sake of making noise..."
Donning an unamused expression, he came over a small mound revealing the struggling girl with her hands locked to a metal peg, and legs propped on either sides for leverage; it didn't take him long to notice the sleeping bags laying in the snow, accumulating both snow, ice and difficult to dry moisture in these conditions. While she continued her outburst, he awaited a quieted moment to usher in his own words.

Drawing a closed fist to his mouth, he cleared his throat. "Dare say, between the sleeping bags-- An... You're attempt at de-pegging; the dead-weight is getting deader. It is a bit of a tragedy-- But, perhaps you are right on one thing; I wouldn't have left without you." And no sooner than his end of sentence, did the two horses send out exasperated breathes from their nostrils. "Seems the two ungulates are in agreeance-- Now... We're both off on some bad feet; but would you like some help... Just uh-- Watch these two and I'll finish the rest."


word count: 560
Injuries -Cuts/Bruises (Torso/Face) | Oversteps -Wanderlust | Witchmark -Rupture Gleam
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