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Played by Offline Muirgen [PM] Posts: 34 — Threads: 7
Signos: 5
Night Court Outcast
Male [He/Him/His] // 8 [Year 496 Summer] // 17.3 hh // Hth: 8 — Atk: 12 — Exp: 10 // Active Magic: N/A // Bonded: N/A

a king walks among us

Shadow between the trees. Sink into the darkness, the background. Do not stand out. Be one with the blackness, be the blackness. Come out of the blackness only when absolutely necessary, and alone. Do not be seen. Do not be seen. Do not be seen.

Do not be seen.

El Rey finds himself in the forest, and he likes it. It is perfect for camouflage. He can explore near-freely, without too much fear. He fits in as the other woodland creatures do, only where they are made for collecting acorns and hatching eggs, he is made for murder. He thinks about it always in his not-thinking about it. But this is a beautiful place, undoubtedly; it is easiest for terrible things to hide amongst beauty. It is most inspiring for poetry, oh how the contrast is striking. He wants to bring Juniper here, if only they could be seen together. He would have to feign kidnapping her, to save her from a stranger’s wrath, and she would never go along with it. If only, that one time.

But that’s not what is happening. 

El Rey finds himself beneath a beam of sunlight, one long dagger of lightning across his golden cheek. 

Do not be seen. 

”in blood the blade, to its golden hilt, I’ll drown,“
I pledge you now, to death they all are bound,


Played by Offline Sea [PM] Posts: 32 — Threads: 11
Signos: 525
Dawn Court Emissary
Androgynous [She/Her/Hers] // 6 [Year 498 Winter] // 15.1 hh // Hth: 7 — Atk: 13 — Exp: 18 // Active Magic: N/A // Bonded: N/A


The forest is at a lull today.  The trees are green and so is the grass.  The sun is out and it is also warm.  Birds of every melody and median pepper the peace with their sonorous singing.  They sound so happy, but if the trees could talk, they would reveal that the secrets these birds sing of are about the violent dark desires of poachers -- that this wood is as much of a market place as it is a forest.  

They know, they know.  Only they know.  Oh the things they have seen and heard.  The terror and carnage.  The messes left behind that are so bad even apex predators known to scavenge for meat, abandon their natures to avoid such crimes.  But the birds.  

They know, they know.

What a beautiful place for terrible things to hide in plain sight.  A malignant, tall black shadow slips into the green, quick like a knife flash.  He is one of two, two of three possibly, who do and do not belong here, who should have never come.

There is only an instance of threat before it (he) disappears into the understory.   Even when the stranger slashes across the path up ahead.  El Rey easily becomes 'just another tree' for the travelers in the wood.  The poacher that is in the forest has their eyes on something else, when they should have been looking for him.

Black on black.

Instead, the other killer, the one that prowls like a jungle cat, actively continues to hunt nearby.

Elderdeer, a small family of them, feed on fresh shoots coming up around the gnarly root beds of a three hundred year old oak.  One of them will die, none of them are aware of the tragedy that will befall them.  Their killer, the same one that has slashed the numbers of their population in half - and counting - is coming for them.  For all of them.

Today will be no different.

Business as usual.

The horns fetch for a high price - and the magic is powerful enough to enchant objects.  A doe’s blood has healing effects and a buck’s blood is an effective poison one can tip their blades with.  The enamel off of their teeth can mend broken bones.  Their voice box can be used in treasure seeking spells.  Naturally, the poacher’s supply must meet the demand and they take two to three every three to four nights.  Over the course of the month, an Elderdeer Enterprise has been born.

Today will be no different.

The poacher poises .. inhales .. focuses .. exhales .. then strikes.

An epee made of crystal, sapphire, and silver moves like a dart and kills the buck before he dashes.  

A snare pulls the doe up off of her feet and into the air where she swings bleating and kicking.

The fawn flees for its life and the poacher does not follow pursuit, they have to slit the doe’s throat to keep it from making noise.  Once silenced, the killer makes a quick camp and begins to process quickly, never knowing that they have an audience at their backs.

@El Rey  plz forgive me, first post out of quarantine.  P.s. so her sword is tipped with the buck's blood. 



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