Lady Rivienne

Intoxicating was the rush of danger, so much that she got lost in that very moment that this drake was upon her and shooting flames a few fulms behind them. She, and her opponent, knew well that one of them would fall this day; one could only take a gamble on who would. Avenger was motioned to abruptly stop after a tug of the reins. He nearly lost his footing as Rivienne jumps off the back and lands deep into the layer of snow. The blinding wind hindered her speed slightly as she drudged forward with a pump of her long legs. Golden tresses billowed past her elongated ears, which were now nipped terribly by the cold. She was heading straight to the beast, whose jaws opened wide to receive her head. It would not be given the chance. Once the bellowing roar resonated into the frigid air, Rivienne stopped dead in her tracks and turned to Avenger, whose feathers were ruffled whilst taking a defensive position at her side. The both of them snapped her attention back to the dragon and gave it a cry of their own; intimidation never settled in their hearts. Her arrow was ready to fly, and by the Twelve, she let it fly straight and true. With the force applied behind it, aimed to the back of the throat and the arrow ripped through the opened maw. The pitiful shriek was followed by a sudden jerk of its head, exposing its thick neck. Even with it being in horrid agony, the creature recovers what little strength it has and lumbers over in her direction. Rage-filled eyes blinked erratically as it struggled to fight against the battle of life and death. She wastes little time to gather an arrow from her quiver and stand her ground until it was hovering above her. Leathery wings were stretched out, casting its shadow on her. Avenger, however, comes betwixt their bodies, and with a sudden jerk of his head, he slams the bottom of the drake's jaw upward, sending it backwards to the mound of snow. Her brows rose in surprise whilst the bow is lowered. Approval is written across her face. "Thine timing is always impeccable, let us take our leave before more decide to arriveth," she glanced down at the fallen figure and sighs. There came another growl, seems the first dragon was still alive. Avenger fixed that situation with a click of Rivienne's tongue and a sudden, swift kick, to the head. The sickeningly sound fell to deaf ears, for she was already trying to track the markings on the snow before they were covered with freshly fallen powder. With the bow to her side, she runs along the path taken by the dragons, finding their winding paths leading further down a path that would open up a cave to her. But, what she saw on the way there, were the remains of knights who had taken up the sword and succumbed to the potential evil that lurked past the gnarled jaws of this cavern. Avenger's reins were loosened as a sensation ran its course down her frame, causing gooseflesh to line her arms and the back of her neck. A familiar feeling, albeit a dangerous one, had overtaken her. Though she faced the dragons prior, during her visits, this feeling of dread never befell her. “Stay here, though if trouble ariseth, take flee to the camp. For aught I know, death and despair lies in wait.” The litter of bodies spoke of that. Instinct cried out to her to not wander within, but she had orders, and if she wished to unlock the mystery wrapped around her brother's death, she would face whatever awaited her beyond. Avenger cocked his head to the side and, if the bird could utter common words, would argue that they were a team. Lowering her bow to the ground, she reached to either side of the champron, he was adorned in, and leans forward, pressing her forehead to his own. “Very well, together, we shall venture forth.” She takes a pause before turning to the cavern awaiting them, it lured her in and she would not ignore it any longer.

As a hunter, Rivienne tries to remain light when it comes to weaponry. ► On her person, she has two or three weapons. The most notable of her weapons are her bows. One in particular is a recurve bow adorned with carvings made by all her siblings, congratulating her on mastering it. It still remains a prominent weapon on her arsenal and carries sentimental value. The second bow she at times uses is a long bow, most often when the Adder sends her on a mission, if it was possible to have a crossbow in this game, she would probably have that strapped instead. ► There is a curved knife that is strapped to her thigh. Elezen made, the steel is engraved with a saying that has become her motto as of late. There is a dagger hidden in right bracer. She keeps it discreet and is seldom revealed unless necessary. ► Any artifact she would have would be in the form of heirlooms. Her mother's necklace, retrieved recently, hangs around her neck. The pendant is said to be crystallized aether, wrapped in metal bindings, and carved with the three spears of Halone. Passed down between the noble-women of her family. Within her homestead, there is a broken spear, returned to her after her brother's fall, that has been made anew. Because her lack of knowledge in spear-wielding, she does not dare to practice with it.

Yangh and Rivienne enjoying the fireflies. A small smile hints at her approval of this new hairstyle.

:love: :love: :love:

Very mild fan-service.

I'd rush him alright. 8-)

Surely, Carvallain would want results, and soon. Days slowly shifted to nights and Rivienne hardly spent much time in bed. She stopped sending her letters to Eudalie and Thaarus -- not because she had forgotten, but she had little chance to do so. Her thoughts oft drifted to the man who spoke of his love, to the young Miqo'te that was like a sibling to her. But at this moment, she couldn't afford to let her thoughts wander. The task was important. In the field of snow, it was interesting to track down the beasts she sought. It was made easier by the time charts that were written down thanks to the knights that previously observed the peculiar behavior and mannerisms taking place with a select few of dragons. These creatures were the reason why their ranks were thinned, to find the source of said reason was suicide – from the looks of it. The terrain was not friendly for those traveling on the back of a chocobo. The hill was jagged with rock, at times sharpened edges were buried underneath the layers of snowfall. Weapons, long forgotten, were frozen memories protruding from the ground in a barren graveyard of white. They stood there now, far to the West, away from the Observatorium, away from most of Dragonhead's denizens. Patrols no longer frequented the area, it was left to the beasts and those who would have to fend for themselves. Upon meeting Vincent, and realizing that he worked also for the Adders in the same division as she, he took it upon himself to travel through this wasteland, investigating locations where the dragons frequent, though it all lead to this area. Past the Boulder Downs is where she heads now, avoiding the contact of the other Adder who was hell-bent on doing a bit of investigating himself. The incoming blizzard makes it nigh impossible to see a few paces before her, yet Avenger has no qualms in taking the lead. There was little use for the eyes when their ears could easily pick up the soft growling that was carried out in to the air. They were not alone in this tundra of ice and snow. The reins are released entirely, allowing her hands to busy themselves with the bow and arrow she notched. Behind the goggles, golden eyes narrowed into slender slits while picking up the faint whistles of the wind, mingling with the guttural sound of the drakes. The scarf worn billowed backwards, whipping into the fury of the wind before her. But, with the wind, a foul stench was carried over, which immediately alerted Avenger of what lies ahead. “Down,” the voice of the Elezen was below a whisper, hardly audible to anyone, or anything, other than Avenger, who began to pick up speed forward. He tilts down his head, allowing her to take better aim of what potential danger was ahead. Not hindered by this blasted snowfall, Rivienne steadies her arm and pulls the bowstring taut, trusting her instinct to let this arrow fly true. The chocobo, fearlessly, heads straight for the sound. From the white wall of snow, the ghastly shadow takes on form; its wings are spread wide, its eyes are beacons of hunger that stare straight at the armored steed. It was not the only one, from behind, another appeared and draws the attention of the huntress, who whistled loudly, and tapped the side of Avengers' frame, to steer him into a strafe. This territory was guarded, and with the sheet of snow, it would have been difficult to see the direction in which these beasts came from until it was too late. Luckily, they had speed on their side. Rivienne lets the first arrow fly forward, and using the glow of the eyes as a target, one is taken out upon her release. It finds its mark. An arrow penetrates the eye and impales the beast; from its maw came a painful shrill that could have rocked the very foundation underneath them. A heartbeat passes and another arrow is recovered from her quiver and is drawn. As the first dragon goes into a rage of pain, the other doesn't lose focus so easily and comes full speed toward them. Avenger runs around the flailing drake to find the other is following close behind. The flicker of flames could be seen from its opened maw; if Rivienne wished not to have a charred chocobo, she would need to move fast.

Gotta give some love to the other races. Hmm, Ciel's waterfall picture would be perfect for this.

This is absolutely lovely. It inspired me to try and take screenshots of Rivienne and Avenger, she too loves her Chocobo. Miss Yangh and Rivienne introduce themselves. ( This turned out darker than intended )

Anabelle was first to awaken and prepare the meal to start Rivienne's day. The Elezen had not slept much, using only a few moments of reprieve to give her the energy needed to commence the day. But, it showed in her eyes, the weariness had dulled them and no longer did they hold a mischievous glimmer. Thoughts kept her awake, mostly on how to guarantee that she would not be played in the end, though she had a feeling it was bound to happen. In her room, she heard the knock of the door downstairs, knowing that the delivery of her instructions had arrived. The bed was untouched from the previous evening; Rivienne had taken a nap on the desk after writing out the ingredients she needed for a few phials. The document was put away, in order for her not to forget when morning arrived. The smell of food filled the air when Anabelle came up after a few moments passed. Her eyes sought out the bed and found it vacant of the Elezen, who had been dressing herself in front of the full length mirror. The tray, and documentations, are settled on the small desk where Rivienne had occupied. “Would you like anything to eat, before you go? I noticed.. that your candle burned down to the very wick, were you up all eve?” Rivienne adjusts her bracers and glances past her shoulder, “Aye, I had a bit of work to do. Leave the parchment at the foot of the bed, I have to get Avenger and rush to find someone. I rather not ask anyone here for their assistance, I rather not raise suspicions.” With those words, her satchel was slung over her shoulder and turns to the tray at the side table of the bed. She swipes a piece of walnut bread that rests over a pair of runny eggs and bows her head to Anabelle. It didn't take long to reclaim Avenger from the stables in Dragonhead, but the travel across the land was enough to cause them both a bit of wear. The balm used on Avenger's legs kept him from being nipped by frost, thankfully, warmer climates were ahead – and before night turned to morning, she was at the gates of Ul'dah. It was here that she sought Thaarus, hopefully he received her missive and had received it in proper time. In two suns, she spoke of returning, but her reasons had changed. Their rendezvous was not meant to be secretive, except for the words that were to be exchanged. In Quicksand they crossed one another and it was there that she asked a favor of him that would cause him concern. There, under the sickly glow of amber and surrounded by the sea of bodies, whilst washed over by cacophony, Rivienne shared with him the necessary items she would need sent to her. A poison so potent that it would render one defenseless for days, sleeping potions to bring down the most sturdiest of men and a concoction of paralyzing agents to shut down the functions of the body. The dislike, of her situation, was written across his features; it was hard to avoid it when her eyes focused solely on his own. She wished not to share the reasons why she requested these items .. .. but he needed not an explanation, her unshaken resolve made it clear what her intentions were. A huntress had little need for such solutions when taking down a beast. Unless there was a bigger monster she wished to slay. Carvallain. Their departure was bittersweet. No kiss graced their lips, no subtle caress of their hands, nothing but a farewell lingered in the heated air. Seeing his face was enough to revitalize her for the journey back, for she could not stay. She should have asked him to watch Eudalie, who kept mentioning meeting her in Coerthas. Like Thaarus, she wished not to involve another in her personal business – even the Adders were kept in the dark. The request never slipped from her lips, she was too engrossed in her own troublesome, and worrisome thoughts, in believing that she may not see Thaarus again.

"Burn it or keep it, I have little use for this," Rivienne's soft voice was heavy with a vexation that had not surfaced to paint her features. The dress worn had been peeled away from her rounded shoulder, tugged against the curvature of her frame, until it pooled around her feet. Anabelle watched, unable to peel her gaze away as the fabric was now handed to her. It was rich, beautiful and now an accursed item that hinted at unsavory events. The midlander knew what had taken place; Rivienne's body spoke volumes of it. "I am sorry, I should have warned you, m'lady," the small voice was saturated with apologies that barely registered to the Elezen. Guilt ridden, she crumbled the dress and pressed it against her frame whilst following Rivienne to the stairs, where the bedroom and bath were located. For a while, dead air was shared between them and the shame began to carve its way deep into Anabelle's heart. "About what?" The question broke their stagnant silence once they reached the top step and turned to face the bed chambers. Here, candle light illuminates the space and adds a soft caress of amber that touched every crevice of the space before them. "About his curious hands, he has a tendency to getting physical. I should have told you to expect it. I just didn't.. think he would.." Anabelle answered with a lingering sentence, unsure if the two of them were on the same page. Apparently, the maid knew little about the issue regarding her family and that of her lecherous lord. Perhaps it was best she was left ignorant to such knowledge. "A man that sends a dress like this to a woman he has never met -- needless to say, I knew what game and role I would be playing tonight. I didn't enjoy it and he didn't get far." Her sharp tone cut through her and made the maid look down at her feet. Rivienne sensed something amiss and glanced past her shoulder while gathering a fresh tunic to wear, considering she was still rather cool from the snow that had fallen upon her. "You have fallen victim to his advances?" The unabashed question gave her a silent reply, but it was etched across the woman's features. Anabelle was flushed and ashamed, to the point that eye contact appeared to be impossible. Her slender fingers crushed the red fabric of the dress in her hands and she appeared to tremble slightly the moment Rivienne turned to face her entirely. The tunic was disregarded. With the light at her back, the Elezen towered the woman of smaller stature, who turned her cheek away. The frigid touch, of calloused fingers, fell to the curve of her jawline, guiding her to face forward. Golden eyes looked over the woman's features and, with the little light which was provided, spotted the trails of her tears, now marring her blushed cheeks. "I wouldn't desire that on anyone, I am sorry!" Anabelle's voice, now becoming a broken crescendo, was muffled when Rivienne suddenly wrapped an arm around her back and pulled her into her breast. There was no clear emotion in the eyes of the huntress, who simply stared at the crown of golden hair that spilled against her. Gingerly was her embrace, allowing the woman to simply release a sorrow that she had kept within. [align=center]It felt as if she had been standing there for an entire bell and a half. But, she finally spoke when the soft weeping had diminished from the woman in her arms.[/align] "I will give you a chance to open the door to your freedom, to escape his wandering eyes and greedy hands. There is no need for you to explain to me why this has not been done already, but this is an opportunity I present to you only once. You must take it." Rivienne's hands took a hold of Anabelle's shoulders and gently pulled her back so their eyes could meet. The maid was scared, that much was obvious, but she nods slowly in understanding. Rivienne, who barely trusts anyone, was giving this woman a chance to stand at her side and leave the man she swore to serve. If Anabelle were to betray her, she would certainly pay a heavy price. "How?" She manages to speak while wiping her face of those saline rivers. Curious, blue eyes, sought to find the answer in the golden depths that stared down at her. Instead, she got a smile, beautiful but painted with cruelty that made her shrink some in the woman's arms. "You will have your own mission to carry out, and I will provide you with all the tools to accomplish to set yourself free. But that will come after I have finished my task, and only then." A thumb brushed at Anabelle's cheek, drying away a tear that filled the basin of her eyes. The woman appeared relieved, though shame painted her face red. "For now, get sleep. I am awaiting something the morning, I don't wish for them to be alarmed if you are teary eyed when opening the door."

The beguiling motion of flesh took place underneath the layers of silk adorning their forms. Though one was stilled, except from the rise and fall of his chest, the other stretched and moved in a languid motion against him. There came an appeasing sound, quiet and yet easily heard in the emptiness of the dark, as she was roused from sleep. Weariness was found past the flutter of lashes, which attempted to filter the lancing moonbeam that entered through the window. Golden eyes glittered when she turned away from Thaarus and rolled to face the light which bathed her this evening. The bed-sheets fell away from bronze flesh, only to pool around her waist whilst she sat up, taking in the faintest of sounds. Even when attempting a moment's reprieve, which was found in slumber, something desired her attention. There was a rustle from the bough of the trees, and it was not some occurrence made by the winds. the rhythm of foot steps, albeit faint, were heard outside the window. A glance was made past the curve of her shoulder to the pallid countenance of the man that slept beside her. With a slight twist of her frame, warm fingers sought out his marred cheek; her thumb brushed at the scar gingerly before letting slender digits caress his jawline. His hair was disheveled and fanned around his visage, enhancing his allure. Warmth was spreading across her features and a smile was triggered by the serenity he was enveloped in. But, just as soon as that tenderness is expressed, Rivienne pulls herself away and slips her fingers underneath the pillow her golden crown once rested 'pon. When withdrawn, a sheathed dagger comes into view and is pulled against her body. Thaarus stirs, but she quickly leans over to his frame and presses her lips to the outer shell of his ear. Her contact lasts but a few heartbeats, for soon she is on her feet and taking possession of a robe at the end of the bed. Silent footfalls carried her out of the bedroom, through the hall, where dying light sweeps across the room, stealing a caress of any exposed flesh soon covered by the light robe. The dagger was not forgotten, it was still in her grasp as she hastily made it to the very entrance of her homestead. The blade is unsheathed slowly, the scabbard set on the table. The flat side is pressed to her cheek, tapping it gingerly, as the door opens and swings in. That is when the tip of her blade is pointed forward at who awaits her. The guest outside was garbed in dark attire, making him indistinguishable with the shadows that ensnared him. One thing was for certain, the striking gaze of silver met hers of gold. They narrowed as she took the envelope, which was, without a doubt, another assignment. Usually, these exchanges needed little verbal confirmation, but his voice spilled from past the scarf he wore, which caused her eyes to be drawn to the mottled shadows across his profile. "Quite an act," his chin, though she could not see it, points toward the inside of her home. He slowly lifts a hand to lower the blade, which had been settled between his eyes. "There is no acting involved, not with him. I would suggest you pay mind to your own business and keep out of my own." A warning laced with an even-tone that remained calm, steady. The envelope is taken into her free hand, whilst the dagger now rests at her side. "Your business is ours, we rather not have another endangered. How much does he know?" The man looked past Rivienne, past the threshold, as if seeking something in her lightly lit home. "I never inquired, though he is no fool. He knows what I am, I am sure he can piece everything together if he desired to investigate what dealings I have with you." She changes the subject immediately, her personal life was never meant to take precedence in this exchange. "When do you want me to take these targets on?" "Come daybreak, instructions are written inside as to their travel schedule, the destination they are heading to. You need to make sure that the supplies are kept safe, at all costs. You will be opposed by a few that wish to get their hands on the delivery of these goods, rid them of breath." He gave her a salute, one she knew all too well, and turned on his heel, leaving Rivienne to watch him vanish into the drapery of darkness. The door closed behind her and she felt the weight of the envelope in her hand. A slow breath is drawn out and the back of her head falls against the grain of the door. Tiredly, her eyes are drawn to the glow that came from the lamps as her thoughts draw her back to the moments shared at Thaarus' side early in the evening. It was an escape of reality that she welcomed, and needed.

I think collars are getting a bad rep lately. Doesn't stop her from looking smashin' in one.

So he heard about her exploits, though that meant nothing to Rivienne in the end. Rumors spread far and wide, at times becoming over-exaggerated when passed from one individual to the other. Tongues loosen to add additional achievements she had no business in earning. Alas, she found no amusement even as he attempts to flatter her; the Elezen simply turned her cheek and sought the dance of the flame behind him; it provided her a distraction needed as the dull ache, around her shoulders and wrists, reminds her that she would soon bruise. “Without proof of the information you claim to be withholding, I will promise no such thing. Give me reason why his ears should not be blessed with what is being shared with me today?” Her eyes closed and Rivienne simply awaits in silence now, finding the weighing stillness to be uncomfortable. When her eyes opened, to sate some sense of curiosity, she found Carvallain holding an object to the light. He appraised it in the silence that enveloped them before his attention, lazily, returned to Rivienne. Betwixt his fingers, the luster of the gold ring, catches her attention immediately. She recognized this without needing the glow of candlelight to fall 'pon it completely. Marceloix's signet ring. “Where did you get this..!” Quickly, lacking hesitation, her lean frame is pushed off the couch and she reaches out to take a hold of it, but he was quick to step back – and his knights were just as hasty to step in. Their fingers sought the all-too-familiar curve of her shoulder and sank down into the injured flesh. The huntress doesn't allow a sound of supplication to part her lips; her eyes were settled on the ring that Carvallain now brandishes around his finger. “As I said, I knew your sibling well. And I know what took his life, the very source you now will be seeking for me. I can tell you stories to last you several suns, but who has time for that. ” He barely gave her any other option, this was forced upon her; he knew she couldn't resist. And he was right. A turbulence of emotions had taken a hold of her from within; it now washed over her features entirely. Golden eyes were set aglow by the rising flame behind Carvallain, who hovered over Rivienne, daring her to challenge his assumption. She said not a word and bit back the insults that she wished to roll off her lips; lashes lowered and her eyes were narrowed slits that threatened to cut through him. He savored her puissant spirit, how head-strong she was. He once knew a woman just like her. At such a thought,he beckoned her with a smile that could break hearts. Or tempt her to break his teeth. The huntress boldly took a step forth, shortening the distance between their bodies. With a roll of her shoulders, she attempted to shrug off the men that were pulling her back to the couch. They would have been dealt with if she knew that it was possible to make it out of this unharmed. For now, the pain was nullified only by the rancor building within. He could feel the heat radiating from her body and found it invigorating. Even with her threats, he knew who possessed control over the situation. He basked in that knowledge. “I set off tomorrow, supply me with the dossier I require to know of–- leave it with Anabelle. Once this is task is complete, you will give me that ring, you will give everything that has belonged to him. If not, your Haurchefant will know of your lack of men to fill his ranks. How you have sent them to their peril. You will become useless and I shall see to that. Cross me, and you will know how venomous an adder can be.” His laughter broke into the room, a room that was stagnant and heavy with insincerity and threats. The back of his hand reached for her cheek, but before the impending grip of the knights could take a hold of her, Rivienne slapped it away. He was making a point to humiliate her, finding pleasure in it. "Such vigor, I will make sure to remember that," he pulled away entirely, finding little offense in her actions. With wide steps forward, Carvallain made his way to the other side of the parlor and opened the doors. It was her cue to take her leave from his side this evening; Rivienne provided him with suitable entertainment. The coat was gathered into her hands and the woman simply ignored the escort at her side as she walked directly to Carvallain. With a languid motion, she leaned to his face and smiled, gentleness was not to be found across her lips. "I do hope we meet like this again, I promise to make it a little more exciting, for the both of us. Again, tomorrow. Present me with what I need." With that, she forced the door to swing back, slamming into the wall behind it, enough for the sound to oscillate into the air. He could only smirk and extend his hand to his men, shaking his head in a silent order for them not to follow. He didn't wish to rile her more this evening, he had done enough. Carvallain waits until she storms out the main entrance, leaving the door open enough to watch her walk into the curtain of falling snow, until her image became blurred in white. "I shall claim her for my own, if not, the Fury shall. Either way, I will get what I want."

-- and for cute Elezen men too. <3

She has a weakness for birds.

It was her tender heart, and youthful spirit, that often caused her own heart to bloom with joy.

I often do gravitate towards darker plots because they're usually the ones that are very engrossing for me. I wouldn't mind helping out, of course, this has potential to be a lot of fun. Pushing my character to new limits is rather appealing! Nevermind that I seem to make her suffer with morality checks a times. Anywho, count me in.

Reluctantly, she took a bite of the fruit and found the sweet taste a little too much for her palate. It triggered the stir within her stomach; the churning was a reminder that she neglected to eat for several bells now. Carvallain, in this exchange, was doing her a favor, much to her annoyance. He watched intensively, searching her features for anything that would hint at a sudden rebellious act, alas, he was left disappointed. "You knew him, you knew Marceloix, and in turn, of me. Using that knowledge to lure me here. You snake." She finally broke the silence after swallowing down the remainder of the fruit. Her voice was low, a deadly tone that was reserved only for those that would soon meet their end by her hands. He simply smiled wide and plucked another berry to press to her lips. Silencing her as she was forced to eat, otherwise she would be smeared with the juices with the amount of pressure he applied. "Ah ah, m'lady, lest we forget who actually works for the Adder, I would refrain from calling each other names, at least not this evening." Such words were stated calmly while taking a deep breath, as if he was reclaiming his faltered composure. "Of course I knew him, he was under my command, Marceloix Delacroux Marcellus. Quite a name, wouldn't you say?" he leaned forward and took her chin, making sure that her eyes did not break contact with his own. Marcellus. That was a name she had not heard in many years. "My mother's name, not sure what the significance it has this day." Rivienne pulled her chin free from his grasp, though he moved with haste to obtain it once more. There was a glint of mischief in his eyes, though malice swam behind it, which caused her entire frame to tense underneath the grasp of his knights. "It is the name of an important house, or was, many cycles before your birth. Your mother carried the surname, she was also the woman sought after by my brother. So blindly in love he was that he never took another wife. You could imagine my surprise when your sibling decided to seek me out. Seems she forgot to inform him of the life she had. . before running off with that rancher father of yours." A finger hooked underneath her chin and he was dangerously close, enough to brush the tip of his nose with her own. His eyes lowered to her lips, watching the frown immediately tug at their corners. "A rancher that helped create strong children, like Marceloix, who we initially were talking about. Thus, be quick with your words, you want something of me, I want information about him." His chuckle rumbled in his throat as he pulled away and gathered another piece of fruit, this time, an apple slice to slip between her lips. She bit it and chewed ever so slowly. A subtle motion of his fingers alerted his men to ease their hold on her. Feeling returned to her limbs and extremities once more, but a glare was given to his guardsmen, especially the one discarded her dagger. If she held Carvallain's tongue hostage, he would have explained about this visit quicker. "A trade is in order. I want you to perform a task for me, in return, I will provide you with everything I know of his demise." He paused and took a breath in. No longer did he wear a serpentine smile. "Now then, you probably have taken note that the dragons have been attacking more frequently as of late and this holy war continues without end in sight. Such is expected, though their behavior has become far more erratic, less predictable. They are gathering together to the west, and that is where we set our eyes." Finally, he pulled back completely and stood up from his seated position. His pacing began before the roaring hearth, where his shadows stretched long on the floor and his profile was kissed by the fire's glow. "I have sent scouts to report on current activity that is taking place past the mountain to the west. Needless to say, I am missing a few from the ranks. Rumors have caused unrest among the strong in my command, talk of dread dragons. Those whose life force has been nearly depleted. Walking between living and dead." He slowly turned to face Rivienne, who wore a stern look across her countenance. She was taking in his words, though had not heard of such creatures until now. Part of her wondered if he spoke truth, or simply was acting out another ploy. For now, she listened and allowed him to continue. "What I have been told, is that you are capable of tracking down a few. . vile targets. I need you to not only to track down the source that is further corrupting these creatures. But to end it as well. This information is not to be shared with anyone, not even your trusted Haurchefant."

Did you touch his butt yet or what? I'm waiting. Oh, yeaaah~♥

Tranquility is found whilst basking underneath the caress of light, where eyes dare not seek her. [ Messing with sunlight and night filters. ]

The cold had been far more welcoming than the bitterness woven into his words. What started as mild curiosity, bloomed into both of them setting up their defensive barriers. Vexing words struck like daggers into her heart, and as much as her visage did little to betray her, it pained her nonetheless from within. In the end, she stood a fool before him; in his eyes, that is what he viewed her as, a woman consumed with chasing ghosts and a past left best if not pursued. But would he fault her for wanting to know about such a shrouded past? The truth came from his rancorous state and forged its way into her mind, consuming her thoughts entirely. Her name, falling from his lips, was torment when their bickering came to an end. His kiss burned on her lips and she wished to smother the lingering flame he left. She left Thaarus to seek solace away from his eyes and to finally let down the shields that she hastily placed around her heart. The chill in the air greeted her, the frost nipped at her cheeks and neck. She felt the frigid touch run down her spine, but none of these elements could numb her like he had. When she finally arrived to her temporary establishment, no one was present to greet her, except a flickering glow. A dying light, of a candle at the entrance, wanes and caresses her features, offering a comfort that she had not found this day. Her back pressed to the door and Rivienne felt the weight of her burdens suddenly grow heavy upon her shoulders. The tears she held back, in his presence, fell without restraints, causing rivulets to run down flushed cheeks. She tilts her head back, against the grain of wood behind her, and seeks the rafters above. Her body slowly gave way, causing metal to resonate throughout the empty chambers, announcing her descend. Tiredly, she reached within her chest-piece, seeking the folded paper that he threw at her, but dared not to open it and read. She could not muster the energy, not now, not yet. Her weeping was soundless, the injury caused was blind to the eye, but she felt it in the pit of her core.. .. and it left her paralyzed on the floor.

D'awe I really liked your previous avatar too! Very nice work there!

The child's laughter rings in the air as she begs for him to hold her steady. The young man struggles while she wriggles about, trying to reach the branch high above her head. On the bough, secured by branches woven together, a nest holds a few newborn birds, who chirps could no longer be ignored by the young Elezen children. Marceloix is on his toes as she kicks off his shoulders and begins her ascension to the rough limb above. Her bottom lip is ensnared into her mouth once she straddles the base of the off-shoot and tries to balance her entire form over it. "They are so pretty! Marceloix, come up! These birds, they are singing for their mother! Come, come take a look!" Rivienne's excitement was apparent as she looked down at her brother, who smirked and brushed the dirt from his shoulders. "Much like you when Louix pulls your hair, just like a songbird. Come on down, speaking of mother, she would rather you be playing the harp than climbing high above the ground!" [align=center]---------------- ✥ ----------------[/align] [align=center] Songbird. Little songbird.[/align] With a serpent's precision, her free hand comes to life and launches forward without hesitation; fingers are spread wide to take a hold of his neck, forcing her thumb and forefinger to tuck underneath his jaw. There came a gasp of shock, though he had little time to react. It happened in a blur. The other hand wasn't idle long, using that granted momentum, she is upon him quickly while deftly sweeping her fingers to the parted fabric, ripping it hastily, to retrieve the grip of a dagger she had strapped, for precautionary reasons. Under the light of the flame, the glistening steel caught his eye, but it soon vanished from his vision. The cold edge pressed to his flesh and he could feel the weight of her body upon him; he smelled the perfume in her hair, took in the sharp breaths that filled her lungs. But most of all, he felt the fingers constrict around his throat. Laughter attempts to bubble up from his lips and those teal eyes were filled with a different sort of voracity, and not one for the flesh as it had been moments ago. Rivienne said not a word but could hear the unsheathing of blades behind her, those who lurked in the shadows had come prepared. This did not hinder the vice she had on him. "Perfect, this is the woman I was craving to see, the woman behind the farce, I was almost disappointed." Carvallain struggled to speak and made no motion to pull her away, except he beckoned with his fingers the knights that peeled themselves free from the embrace of the inky shadows. Their armor glittered gold with the orange glow that swept through the parlor. The closer they grew, the more aware she became of the danger she has placed herself in. "I see what they said is true, there is fire behind those golden eyes," Carvallain rasps as a blade swiftly cuts through the air and the tip finds its place appropriately at the nape of her neck. It was enough to ease her dagger away, just a slight. The grasp around his neck was loosened entirely, allowing the passage of air. He triggered an aggression within her that was masked upon her sun-touched visage, but he could feel it radiating from her very core. She was out-numbered. There was a knight behind the couch that was ready to strike her if she dared to test him and one looming at her side with the blade to her neck. Rivienne had no choice but to surrender, or die this night. Seems he was reading her thoughts as well. "They will cut you down sooner than you can fathom, Miss Delacroux. I rather not have my couch and rug painted with your blood. Would be a shame to ruin that dress, as well." Rivienne pulled away languidly, though her shoulders were immediately caught by the two knights, who pressed her down into the couch so she was rooted to the cushion underneath. The dagger is pulled free after a brief struggle. There were many bothersome questions that came to mind, some she could not assemble into proper words. He knew well how to hook her in. "I knew of their presence, if they were not sharing this room with us, I would have sank that sharpened edge into you until you spoke of how such a name came to your knowledge. For those who have called me that ..are either dead or missing." Her voice was laced with venom and rumbled with the level vehemence that steered her thoughts. Carvallain simply laughed at this, which in turn, caused more frustration to the woman who now had her arms at her back. He said not a word and reached for one of the fruits on the plate, holding it to the light before them both. "Your brother spoke of you dearly." Marceloix. This man knew of him. Just that was enough to cause her beating heart to speed up. He took in her expressions, drank them in as the look of surprised surface across her visage. There was a frown as he moved close now, with the berry held betwixt them both. Gingerly, he presses it to her parted lips, waiting for her to take a bite. A lecherous smile spreads like oil on his lips. Slowly, he pushes the fruit to her teeth. "Go ahead, it's not poisoned. I need you quite alive, actually. You have a skill I need, and I have information about your dearly, departed, brother."