Lorielle Sylwood

Lorielle's eyes narrowed in unison with the dying of the fire, bright turquoise slipping behind dark shadows. It intensified the malevolence of her stare as she watched the hulking man darting toward her. She swung her staff across her, now holding it an angle in front of her shoulder. She was preparing for another attack when she noticed two more figures coming up behind her first assailant. Even in the dark she could make out the silhouette of Tobias, and she assumed the long-legged figure running alongside him was his chocobo. His presence changed things, for the better, she hoped. She shifted her stance, holding the staff firmly in two hands. If she could hold her attacker off for a few moments, keeping his back to Tobias, they would have a good advantage of pinning them between the three of them. But Lorielle would have to be watchful for the bandit's third, hidden party. With both her and Tobias fixed on the last remaining man, the woman would emerge again and take her advantage. Although she would still be three to one, if all went well. Lorielle braced herself for an attack from any direction, at any angle. She gritted her teeth as the man drew ever closer, already playing multiple scenarios through her mind.

Lorielle's bright eyes flicked back and forth, watching the ensuing fight. Near her feet, the earth had broken apart, wet sand shifting and falling off of the rising stone. Her eyes narrowed as a third party emerged from seemingly nowhere, attacking Tobias and saving the other bandit's life. Before Lorielle could carry out her attack, Tobias's assailant had retreated into the shadows again. Lorielle shifted her focus to the bandit who had gotten away. He was so close, yet appeared to have no remembrance of the Elezen woman. His attention was fixed on Tobias. It gave Lorielle the opening she had been waiting for. "This is for raising your hand to me," she said, muttering at first before raising her voice into a slight roar. She swung her staff up, spinning quickly and forcing the stone and dirt up and out of the ground. Flinging her staff like a bat, the dense stones sailed through the air, aiming directly for the back of the unsuspecting man's head. Whether or not the attack landed, Lorielle prepared herself for another attack. She took on a different stance, holding her staff out to her side. Her body was tense, the muscles in her arms bulging, her collar bones protruding from sunken skin. Rain fell from the long strands of hair that had fallen free from her braid, dripping and cascading like streams. The flaming tree nearby cast her in an orange glow, the light flickering and dancing with the rain. Although the Elezen woman started this trip looking clean, dainty, and proper, she now looked primal and feral. Hair fell before her gleaming turquoise eyes, narrowed and locked onto what would now be her prey.

Lorielle's breathing had become rasped, her turquoise eyes darting about in confusion as the scene unfolded before her. She had no idea what Tobias was doing. Her lip curled exposing a strip of pearly whites as she quickly lost trust in everyone here. Her adrenaline was bubbling to a peak, survival instincts clouding her every sense. Suddenly, a crate flew from the caravan and landed very close to her. One of her captor's looked shocked, then some strange recognition came across his face. Kieaira was still in the caravan, and he must have known. While his eyes were no longer on her, and his weapon was nowhere near, something snapped in Lorielle's eyes. Her face curled into a feral snarl as she kicked up her feet, forcing all of her weight into her back. An intense pain shot through her shoulders, her arms still pinned by the man's arms. Her body rolled as she forced the weight from her back to her legs, throwing them with full force downward to join with the man's groin. She was released suddenly, falling unceremoniously forward. She quickly picked herself up, running forward blindly while reaching back for her staff. She turned on her heel, armed and ready for any attempt to be captured again. She was breathing hard, her face twisted in extreme hatred. If either of them were to come for her, she would break every bone in their face with the thick ball of her staff. But now they knew where Kieaira was. Lorielle changed her stance, ready to run to the caravan and cut the men off should they try and take her in Lorielle's place. She wished someone in their troupe would have been better in combat. She could fight well enough, but she could not take on two large men on her own. The only fighter they had was currently weaponless on the ground before the two bandits. Where in Eorzea was their driver?

Lorielle strained against the blade, parting her lips and testing just how much she could expand her throat without causing herself harm. "Don't listen to them," she said softly, her bright eyes cut narrow. At this moment, she felt more angry than afraid. How dare someone take her hostage. If she was given a chance to release her pent up adrenaline, she might have broken their jaws with her staff. She did not fear death. She never had. Her life was of little concern to her. Her body was merely a tool to her mind to go out and do her bidding and help others. Her body could die but her deeds would live on. "Just run."

As Lorielle began to leave the tent, she was greeted by rain falling harshly down upon her head. Tobias took off ahead of her, heading towards the cart. She had hardly taken one step after him when something swept up beneath her arms and forced them back. Something rested hard against the back of her head, but she had enough room to turn her head shortly. Just as she did, a face came closer to hers, speaking in a hushed tone near her ear. If she screamed at the top of her lungs, she would be heard even over the wind and rain. But she feared what would come of it. As they began walking, her being forced ahead, she found her feet were still very much free. She could easily swing up her legs, drawing them into her chest. Then she could throw them back, throwing her heels full force into her captor's groin. However, there was no guarantee that this would cause him to release her. Any form of rebellion would likely get her killed, or killed faster. Her turquoise eyes gleamed with feral anger, her adrenaline boiling as they neared the caravan where the others stood. Save it, she thought to herself. Save that adrenaline for when it's needed. She was soaked to the bone, the rough handling from her captor causing long strands of her hair to fall over her shoulders and cling to her skin. There was something burning behind her eyes. Her face was solid as a rock until she could see her fellow travelers inside of the caravan. Suddenly her thoughts of freeing herself and beating the life from her captor fled her. Her mind was bent with worry for the strangers she had come to take as her companions. She looked up at them with wide, pleading eyes. Escape, she wanted to tell them. Get out of here and escape. Do not do what they tell you, whether they have a hostage or not. But in the short time she had come to know them, she felt they were stubborn enough no to listen to her.

@Olofantur Those are the ones thank you! @LeCard I'll try contacting you next time I am online Cx

I see people running around in game with these outfits. They look a lot like the outfits that the retainers wear, with the puffy shoulder sleeves that look like they're rolled up at the elbows. The male version has a bow tie and the female version has a collar that isn't attached to the shirt. I need to have them >:U

Lorielle had just finished her gathering when the wind picked up. She could not get a good look at the state of the sky from inside of the tree. She tied the sleeves of her tunic together, making a makeshift bag full of large branches. She dropped the package below her, then hopped from the tree. She landed hard, balancing herself by pivoting weight onto the palms of her hands. When she sat up, a small eft had just whipped passed her and squirmed away. She gasped, hopping back quickly to watch it disappear over a rock. She turned her head, seeing the clouds churn above, lightning occasionally streaking through them. The firewood would not be needed after all. She grabbed the bag, running back to the camp where Tobias had been sitting. She dropped the tunic onto the ground, the wood audibly bumping around inside. She was going to say something to him, but rumbling thunder cut her short as the wind blew into her face like tiny needles. With that gust the fire was out, and with it, any warmth. Lorielle was beginning to regret using her tunic as a bag, but she didn't like the idea of sleeping in splinters. Seeing Kieaira pushing things around in the caravan, Lorielle ran to her. She grabbed the side of the cart, picking herself up and over without disturbing the barrier she had made. She scooped up the five sleeping bags she had found before, handing one to Kieaira and one to Clavier. She knew not where they were sleeping, but knew Kieaira would need her own sleeping bag. She seriously doubted she would be comfortable enough to share with anyone. She hopped back out, landing with a little less grace than usual. Carrying the remaining three sleeping bags back, she went into the tent. She set the three down, rolling them out and zipping them open. Once that was finished, she popped back out to see what everyone was doing, to be greeted by hurling wind scattering her hair again.

Lorielle had long finished her helping of stew. Whether or not it was dull, Lorielle loved vegetables. She could have eaten most of the ingredients raw and would have been just as happy still. She leaned back, basking beneath the cool breeze, wishing the moon would come out for just a moment at least. There was no such glimmer of hope. It was far too cloudy, as the rain prepared itself to fall down upon the unfortunate band of travelers. The Elezen sat up again with a small sigh, looking around to see how everyone was fairing. Tobias had been gone for quite a while now, and upon gazing across the horizon, she saw him sitting alongside Kieaira. One of her dark brows perked upon her head, turquoise eyes gleaming in the night. Something inside of her caught itself, causing her to clear her throat a bit and look back at the fire. Was she bothered? She did not know what had so suddenly come over her. She couldn't really put her finger on what might have disturbed her. Was she jealous? She cocked her head in thought, her eyes narrowing softly. No, not quite jealousy. Lorielle had never really felt the pull of envy, but she was certain this was not the same feeling. Whatever it was, she brushed it off, helping herself to another serving of the soup. No one else had been gathered around it, and she assumed that if she did ask anyone if they would mind, they would deny it. She served herself from the pot into her makeshift bowl, eating it almost as soon as she finished pouring it. She had not realized just how hungry she was. It was a shame she did not bring any bread with her, as it would go along well with the...vegetable water. She wanted to go and thank Kieaira for the meal. But then she would be interrupting whatever conversation she and Tobias were having. Did she want to interrupt them? Remind them of her presence? Lorielle shook her head, her nose cringing and crinkling between her eyes. No, she didn't want those things. Why was she trying to convince herself that she should be jealous? Silly woman things. Her attention went back to finding something to do. She assigned herself the task of poking at the fire, tending to it with nurturing care. She grabbed a stick and began shuffling the firewood around, moving some pieces closer and rekindling the flame. They would need to get more if they were going to keep the fire burning much longer. Without a word, the Elezen got to her feet. She moved almost noiselessly to the caravan, finding her folded tunic where she had left it. She tossed it over her arm, carrying it in the crook of it as she hopped from the caravan and made her way to a nearby tree. She searched the ground for any fallen branches, finding very few worth keeping. Looking up into the leaves, she wrapped the end sleeves of her tunic around her hand. She tossed the tunic up and over a thick, low branch, grabbing the other sleeve once it had fallen. She then hoisted herself up, using her feet to steady herself against the trunk as she climbed her way up to sit on the branch. From here she picked off thicker branches, holding them in her tunic.

Lorielle was still holding the handle of the pot tightly, not to keep Tobias from taking it, but simply because it was her reflex. Once she realized he was trying to take it, she released it gently. She didn't want to spill any of the stew, although she would have liked to have been a bit more playful. Maybe not with something so important as their only food. She watched Kieaira stare up at the sky, following her gaze for a moment to see what had her so disgruntled. On top of all the things that had happened to them thus far, it was surely going to rain on them as well. She bit her lip, hoping the tent would be large enough to shield all of them. Once Kieaira deemed the stew ready to eat, Lorielle reached around Tobias for one of the pots she had left on the ground. They would have to dump the soup into their individual pots and drink from it, but that was better than not eating at all. She passed the pot to Keiaira, setting it down for her to sit and eat with them. She reached again, passing another to Tobias, repeating this until they all had their own pot or vase with which to hold their soup. Lorielle looked to Tobias, who was in control of the pot and therefore the pouring of their meal.

Lorielle's pointed ears shift, adjusting to the sound of someone approaching. They settle in the sand beside her, and while her fingers work methodically on her hair, a familiar voice reaches her. She turns her head slightly, just enough to see past the braid that hung beside her face. The hair clip still sat between her lips, so she took a moment to free one of her hands to remove it. "Just until I am needed for something else," she says in a jovial, light-hearted tone. Just then Kieaira approached, leaving a pot of water near them on the ground. So she was needed for something else after all. She quickly placed the hair pin back into the edge of her mouth, flicking her fingers through her hair to finish the braid more hurriedly. Once it was finished, she twisted the braid, then raised her arms and wrapped the braid around her head. She grabbed the pin, securing the braid in place, then tentatively moved her hands away. When the braid stayed in its place, she went about grabbing the pot and placing it upon the fire. At the mention of botany, she raised her head to meet Kieaira's eyes. "I do, actually," she said, seemingly having forgotten. "But I can't say there is much to harvest from this barren place." She glanced around, seeing nothing but sand and the occasional patch of grass. She supposed she could dig for roots near the water, but she was uncertain whether or not she trusted the water nearby. She bit her lip, wondering if there was anything at all she could do. She was not the culinary type, unfortunately. As she held the pot on the flame, the flickering light danced upon her features. Her red cheeks gave an unwordly glow, casting orange up into her contrasting eyes. She gave a slight shiver, a breeze slithering up her mostly exposed back. She was grateful for the cold, though. She would have to retrieve her tunic from the caravan before they all slept.

Lorielle had been digging through the crates for a while as the others went about their business. The most she had found were several clay pots and what she thought was a glass vase. They had nothing with which to eat from the...meager plate ware with. Vegetable soup was not too difficult to drink, anyway. She stacked the pots and vase in her hands, leaning them beneath her chin as she carefully brought them from the caravan to the campfire. She set them on the ground, placing them side by side before sighing. She sat back by the fire, uncertain as to what to do with herself now. Then again, why did she constantly have to be involved with something? Why couldn't she take advantage of the spare time and rest. Gods know she needed it. She reached behind her head, pulling the hair pin out again and letting her hair fall over her shoulder and into her lap. She separated the hair into three parts, beginning the daunting task of braiding her mass amounts of dark brown hair. She held the hair pin between her lips, her eyes glancing between her working hands and the dancing fire. The hair pin was silver and thin, with a pendant on one end. The pendant was shaped similarly to a leaf, and was embellished with emerald gems, smaller blue gems lining the sides. It was the only extravagant thing she wore. Her clothing was rather dull and modest in comparison. As she continued taming her wild hair, she began glancing around their new camp. She shook her head slightly, her lips pursed as they held the hair pin between them. What was with the men around here being so stubborn? Gods know that if she had been gouged by a big bird or poisoned by a giant frog, she would not be up and running around after everyone else. She herself looked exhausted, ready to pass out at any moment. But her fire-lit turquoise eyes were peeled waiting for the chance to get up and lend a hand at something.

I make a lot of alts myself, and just made one recently that I'm looking to RP with. His name is Amun Omorose, and he's a Seeker. I like the sound of Maliqa, because Amun is more comfortable around Miqo'te as well :U He's in Gridania right now since I just started this alt, so if you're interested, send him a whisper :> I'm usually on anytime between 4 pm and 12 am Eastern time.

Lorielle acknowledged Kieaira's plan for the sleeping bag dilemma with a nod. "I suppose we should see how big the tent is and plan from there," she stated simply. She looked exhausted. She watched with heavy eyes as Clavier got up to sit beside the clean pool of water. She was sure it would still be cold. Night had barely started to settle in. She climbed from the caravan, walking across the hard sand to the pool, kneeling down a comfortable distance away from the Hyur. She looked down at the water, seeing no toxic film, only her reflection and the sky above. She reached a tentative hand in, her arm tensing up upon contact. "Very cold," she said breathlessly, as if responding to Clavier's earlier remark. She took a handful of the clean water, dumping it over her head and sliding back her mass of hair. She sighed with relief, sweeping her hands back further to scoop up all of her hanging hair. She combed through it all a few times before twisting it, holding it up, twisting it again, pulling it to the side, and holding it against the back of her head. She reached down to her chemise, picking off the silver and emerald hair pin and securing the wrapped bun to her head. It was loose and a bit messy, leaving some of her sideswept fringe to hang along the edge of her face, but it kept it off of her neck. She used just a bit more water to rinse over her back and shoulders, then leaned back to relax. It finally became colder as the sun his behind the dusty horizon, but not cold enough for the melting Elezen. After giving herself a breather, she was up on her feet again. She began walking towards the caravan, seeing Kieaira beginning to rummage about for the pot she mentioned earlier. "Do you need any help?" Lorielle asked. Clearly, she had to be doing something constantly. She wasn't one to sit back and relax often, as much as she may have needed a rest.