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.

Lorielle hopped up into the caravan, her long hair sticking to her neck and back from the heat. She couldn't wait for the night to take full reign and bathe her in frigid cold. Until then, she would bear with the heat, the sweat, and her unruly locks. She popped one of the lids off of the crates, sighing with relief as she saw many folds of fabric. She found the right box on the first go, so it would seem. She heard Clavier ask a question, and by the tone assumed he wasn't talking to anyone directly. Without parting herself from her current task, she spoke over her shoulder. "The Black Shroud is my home," she said. "I thought I might expand my traveling experience and come visit Ul'dah. But it's far too hot here and I am far too homesick to be away from Gridania any longer." She pulled one of the rolled sleeping bags from the box, studying it without unrolling it. A tent was already found, so she had seen, so she went about pulling as many sleeping bags as she could find. There were five, no more and no less. She took a moment to glance around, counting heads as she had seemingly forgotten how many travelers were among her. Herself, Kieaira, Tobias, Clavier, the driver, and the two Miwo'te men. Seven travelers and only five sleeping bags? She placed the sleeping bags on the floor of the cart beside her feet, rummaging through the open crate before popping open the lids to several others. "There's only five sleeping bags," she said, turning around to address anyone who would have heard her. Kieaira and Clavier were nearest to her, and so her eyes fell upon them.

Lorielle looked at Tobias with narrow, gleaming eyes. They looked harsh, as if she was being pushed to her very edge. "I swear, if I have to tie you down to heal you, I will." She bit her lower lip, brushing back some loose strands of dark hair that fell into her eyes. "You can go gallivanting about after I've fixed this. Unless you want this to be painful, I suggest you sit still for a few minutes." Her gaze relaxed, her face becoming less tense as she breathed in and looked down from Tobias's eyes to his wound. She released her held breath, setting her staff on the ground at her side and dusting her hands on one another. She reached down to his mediocre stitching, grabbing one end of the already unraveling thread between two of her finger nails. She visibly cringed as she began gently and slowly pulling the stitches back out of the skin. Her brows narrowed and her face became tense. Watching the bloodied thread pull the skin as it slipped out from the tears made her stomach churn, but she could not look away during the delicate procedure. The wound began to bleed again slightly, and after the thread was almost fully removed, she could see that the wound had not closed at all. The thread was merely holding the open ends of the wound together. Once the thread was removed, Lorielle dropped it into the small patch of grass they sat in. She swallowed hard, audibly choking down something that had risen in her throat. She gave a short, quick glance up at Tobias, her eyes showing sympathy rather than the anger they held several minutes before. She reached for her staff again, holding it tightly and placing her free hand over the wound. She began healing, as she had before, but slowly in a more relaxed atmosphere. Although it took a longer time to close the wound and heal the flesh, it was done. In place of the wound was a light scar with several small branching scars from the stitching before. The scar was shallow, hardly visible apart from the lighter shade. Lorielle ran her fingertips over the scar, feeling no bump or rise in the skin. It was fully closed, and any movement on Tobias's part would not reopen it. Lorielle untucked her legs, which she had been sitting on for the past ten minutes or so. She stretched them out to the side, leaning back on her hands looking winded. Almost as soon as she finished, she heard their driver call out to her to start looking for sleeping bags and a tent. She nodded shortly, breathing in and running her hands across her head to push back all of the hair that had fallen. Looking a bit annoyed, and with a sudden flourish, she reached back and ripped out her hair clip, the loose remnants of her braid falling against her back. She secured the hair clip to the top of her chemise, using her staff to get her to her feet. Her hair fell to her waist in many small waves, the braid fully unraveling as she began walking to the caravan to begin her next duty. She looked exhausted, but determined enough to do what she must.

Even Lorielle blushed at the playful smack, just seeing it was enough to make her turn her head and pretend she had seen nothing of it. The chore she was given wasn't so much a chore as something she had been waiting to finish. She began to approach Tobias again when the two started fighting again. If a punch was thrown this time, Lorielle would have had a hand in it. However, the driver just turned and walked away, leaving Tobias be. He approached Lorielle, telling her where to find him. Before he could take a single full step away from her, she grabbed his arm firmly. "I tire of chasing you around," she said matter-of-factly, her voice a peculiar mix of humor and serious concern. "I tend to your wound. Now." Before he could object, not that she thought he would, she took his hand and gently but rather swiftly moved it away from the wound. She cringed at what she saw, moving her hand back involuntarily in shock. She looked back at the wound, the blood dried, and the stitching enough to make her stomach churn. She looked up into Tobias's dark eyes with sincere disbelief and worry. "Tobias," she muttered, lowering her head and shaking it slightly. "Why didn't you come to me." Her brows bowed with overwhelming sadness as she softly and somewhat absent-mindedly touched near the stitching. "We have to fix this right away," she said, more to herself than to Tobias. She withdrew her hand, grabbing her staff from over her shoulder. "You might want to find a comfortable place to sit for a while," she said. "I'm not letting you move around very much until you heal." The thought of the driver flashed through her mind for just a brief moment. If he ordered him to do something, she would stuff the head of her staff between his teeth.

As Clavier is loaded onto the caravan, Lorielle stands up to further adjust how he sat. She ignored his teasing, certain that he was grateful for their help, or so she would force herself to believe. She looked hesitant, but after a moment unbuckled her belt and removed her tunic. Beneath it was a light brown cotton corset, although it covered her more like a modest chemise. She folded the tunic, shaping it into a sort of pillow before setting it behind the Hyur's head. As she began to buckle her belt back, Kieaira offered her a drink. She smiled and nodded gratefully, taking a light sip before corking it and putting the rest in her satchel. She then hopped from the caravan, coming to Tobias to finally treat his wound. He paused her, though, brushing back the loose strands of her hair, telling her to first take care of herself. She flushed crimson, waiting for him to turn away before lowering her head and clutching her arm in embarrassment. She had no wounds to treat herself, but she did have a few things to take care of. She turned to Kieaira, looking her up and down shortly before holding her gaze. "Are you alright staying the night here?" She asked, her eyes bright and impassioned again. "I plan on staying, but if it worries you too greatly, I might escort you back. After I tend to everyone's wounds, of course." She truly did not mind staying. She felt much safer in her current company than she did travelling alone. She was also their only healer, to her knowledge, and felt she should not leave their sides. Especially not now, during the aftermath. Even if Kieaira did want to return, Lorielle would return here shortly after, if she could make it in time. She turned her head, meeting eyes with the driver. "I'll stay," she said, letting him know ahead of time so that he could give her whatever chores she could do. She was eager to get everything set up and out of the way. Her mind was constantly thinking of that wound Tobias has. She wouldn't rest until it was healed.

Lorielle quickly began sweeping handfuls of clean water over the man's arm, rinsing his skin numerous times. After a while of careful rinsing, she began using the sleeve of her tunic to soak in water and scrub the man's skin clean. The toxin was taking effect quickly, and in just a few moments, he would faint. If he wasn't treated soon, well, Lorielle wouldn't let that happen. After rinsing and scrubbing his face clean as well, she ripped her satchel from her belt and dumped out its contents. The small book of her sketches, a needle and thread, a pouch of what sounded like coins, and two small vials. She scooped up one of the vials, removing the cork and grabbing Clavier's clean arm. She doused the skin with the antidote, rubbing it in all over his arm, up to his neck, and along the side of his face. She leaned back and sighed, the heat taking its toll as well as the sudden amount of work she had to do. Her hair was falling from its braided halo, loose strands sticking to her face and neck. She regathered her meager belongings into her satchel, tying it back onto her belt. Then she stood up, scooping the man up from under his arms. She was not nearly strong enough to carry him, but she wanted to get him back into the caravan where he would be safer. She began to drag him, being careful not to scratch him across the sand. She would pause in between pulling, catching her breath for the next bit if lugging. When she made it to the caravan, she was uncertain how to get him up and into a seat. Then she saw Tobias return, chocobo in hand. She could have sighed, relieved, but she was far too tired and worried. "Tobias," she called out softly, her word coming out in a tired breath, "Could you help me lift him into the cart?" Her bright turquoise eyes looked different, as if the wild passion she had before was beginning to dim. She still had her hands beneath the man's arms, trying to be as gentle as possible while not letting go. Then she noticed the blood trickling from behind the black-haired Hyur's hand. If she could catch a glimpse of what he had done to try and stop the bleeding, she would have possibly fainted. "Tobias," she said again, but this time with extreme worry, and clear disappointment in herself. She should have stopped him and healed him before he went out searching for the chocobo. Now she feared what might be festering behind the soiled scrap of tunic he was using to shield it.

I'm on as K'akali again, currently in Ul'dah. I'm questing with her, so she might switch areas again. Send a tell or run into me and engage me.

Lorielle cringed at the Hyur's sudden change in tone. As much as she disliked being scolded, and would usually crumble beneath someone in apology, she kept her back straight and looked him dead in the eyes. "I've no intention to be a hero," she said flatly, "But I would risk my life any day to save anyone else." She realized after stating this, Tobias's expression and tone would falter back and forth, as if the real him was trying to get through whatever came over him. His tense atmosphere won out in the end. As he began to walk away from her, she started to follow, reaching out to stop him. His wounds had to be healed if he intended to do anything, let alone search for the animal that wounded him. But the driver approached him, his face red and the veins in his neck rising. They began to argue heatedly. Lorielle knew how this would end. Her back became tense, her teething grinding together, until finally a punch was thrown and Tobias's head jerked. Oh, how Lorielle wanted to step in. She wanted to crane her staff over her head and pop the driver in the jaw. She knew of course that she could not do that, and more violence wouldn't make anything better. She stood releasing an angry breath in defeat, before taking in a ragged breath and holding it. I suppose I can get to treating Tobias after I've checked on the others. Lorielle looked around, her first thought being of Kieaira. Before her eyes found her, though, she saw the archer drop his bow into the water. He was sufficiently drenched in...oh no... Lorielle ran forward to the Hyur, getting a better look at him. He had been sprayed in the toad's toxin, his arm favored. She began to take action immediately. "Come with me," she said firmly, grabbing the man by his safe arm and trying to lead him further from where the toad had fallen. Her plan was to find the cleanest water possible before any toxins spread to it, then rinsing the man's skin as much as she could. Anything after that, she could hopefully heal.

General: Name: K'akali Neelakshi Race: Miqo'te Gender: Female Tribe: Seeker of the Sun Class: Pugilist Patron Diety: Azeyma Appearance: K'akali is slightly shorter than average height. She has deep tan skin with slightly darker lines coming down from her forehead and stopping above her brows. She has dark, mousy brown hair, cut short and very fluffy. She has sapphire blue eyes and a small scar on her nose in between. She has a long, lion-like tail. Personality: K'akali is impish and outgoing. She is bright, cheerful, and excitable. She is always eager to start conversations with people and make friends. She never appears to be sad, as she brushes off anything that should put a damper on her mood. She has a healthy self-esteem, feeling confident in her personality, her appearance, and her strength. She is incredibly friendly with everyone, but tends to be a bit more flirtatious with Miqo'te men. She is brash, bold, and absolutely shameless. She is always joking around, and loves to get people comfortable enough around her to take part in her antics. She loves to scrap and wrestle, but usually reserves such behavior for men she's interested in. Although she is flirtatious, she is strictly monogamous when in relationships, being fully devoted to one. Pros: friendly, outgoing, cheerful, loyal, quick-witted, strong, confident Cons: daredevil, foolhardy, greedy, stubborn, jealous, confident Likes: Money, jewelry, shiny things, making friends, sun-bathing, good-humored people, birds, cute Miqo'te men, the colors red, gold, and blue Dislikes: Gambling, slimy things, snooty people, thieves, being ignored, the dark Contact: Send a tell in-game, a PM here, a Friend Request in-game, approach in-game. Main Linkshell: N/A Always approachable and eager to RP. Server is currently Balmung. (Pictures/drawings to be added later)

I'm RPing right now as my new character, a Miqo'te female named K'akali Neelakshi. I'm doing a few quests with her, so she's popping in and out of areas a lot. Send me a tell if you're bored and want to RP. Not really looking for anything too heavy at the moment. Just sitting around chatting casually or something.

Lorielle stops running, hearing the cries of the toad and feeling water splash down against her side. She turned quickly, flinging droplets from her hair as she watched the Toxic Toad squirm on the ground. It was gouged by several weapons, and certainly would be unable to make chase any longer. She breathed heavily, her chest heaving without making a sound. Water dripped down her nose, her entire left side drenched. She was certain the toad was finished, but slowly backed away all the same. "Well I was certain the others would have stepped in," Lorielle said in response to Tobias, her tone only mildly snappy. So they did. Her only thought was to carry the toad away from the others, which would have been successful had the injured one not followed her with it. She began to relax despite her desire to stay on her toes. She glanced to Tobias, then down to his wound. It was bleeding yet again. She turned to face him, staff in hand, before giving a final glance over the toad. Hopefully it was dead, so that Lorielle could take Tobias back to the caravan and heal his wound properly. Maybe then she and the others could see to finding their scattered chocobos. She knew there had to be a catch for making it to the caravan right before it left. This must have been it.