#Dame Eleysia Stormcrow

[lenora-reyes]

Lenora Reyes's Not-So-Secret Diary

March 13, 632 K.C.

Dear Diary,

There is a great deal I'd like to share with you since my visit to Darkshire. First and foremost, the rumors surrounding the reappearance of House Sunshield was true. My venture to the darkened wood was not in vain, and in this darkness - I found light once again. It started in the form of Sir Adamar Meadowcroft as he caught sight of me by the fountain. Of all the people that would bump into me first, I might have secretly hoped he was last. And not because I do not respect him or hold utmost admiration to his stature as a Knight, but more so due to my disappointment in myself for abandoning him when he might have needed me most.

Regardless, I have found peace with myself since then in the short time among Lady Sunshield and the other Knights. It was a testament to my character and my inner strength to find courage in life that had fallen to my own self-doubt and darkness. The opportunity to reinvent and bring honor back to my life has been something of a blessing granted by Lady Sunshield. She has ensured me that my return was one that was forgiven and welcomed yet again.

So... Let me introduce you to, Sir Jonathan Folcard - he is the most collected of the knights and caters the embodiment of knighthood in word, deed, and through example. It is evident that he is the heart of the knights, if not the face. There is no doubt in my mind that Father would have spared no hesitancy in offering accolades of praise to Sir Folcard and saying something along the lines of... 'we need more men like you.'

Then there is Dame Eleysia Stormcrow, a Kal'dorei knight with ageless wisdom, ingenuity, and experience in the cursed land of Duskwood. My interactions with her have been brief, but she is an educator by the sounds of it. Perhaps that comes with being a guardian to a child, but... it's hard to say. My Mother would have certainly exchanged words with her about faith and the like. A conversation that I would likely lack the cadence of enjoyment for.

Sir Melek Dy'neer is another knight whose art comes in the way of secrecy, observation, and adaptation. While conversations with him were often unexpected and not arranged, his involvement in my own endeavors are most welcomed. Especially prior to my spar with Sir Adamar Meadowcroft. I would worry for anyone that should cross him or betray his trust, as his tactics are designed for accuracy and efficiency with lethal outcomes.

And of course, here I am returning back to my former Mentor. According to Adamar, my punishment for my breaking of oath was to tend to his son of 3 years. I have yet to meet this child of his, but it saddens me to know he is without his spouse. I don't imagine I will make his child any happier without his true mother present. But for both of their sake's, I'll see what it is I can actually do. And that spar I was mentioning earlier? Well... Adamar is quite formidable in the way of the shield and defense. Not to say his offensive abilities are anything to write off either... Especially given his connection with the light, I wonder how it came to be. He seemed especially taken aback that I kept good care of his former armor, which felt like the only thing I was capable of when I retreated from my duty. Oh, right... I'm deviating from the point... now back to the spar.

Let me just state the obvious. I am RUSTY. Despite my efforts to keep training by my sword. Considerable preparation was necessary after Branson provided me with new armor. Diary, make note, Branson is an eccentric dwarf with a penchant for bloodshed. I think he would sooner goad someone into a fight than service armor if he could choose to.

The chainmail is lighter than my former protection and it compromised my ability to adapt to footwork and apply strength aptly. Yet, Foe Reaper's in Westfall make for great adversaries on short notice. Nor do the farmers mind when it's one of their devices that are haywire that need cut down for service and re-acquisition.

Having had that experience before I engaged in combat with Adamar on a sleepless night was... exhausting. And there is more I must do to earn my honor and hold true to my oath. But no preparation at all would have likely told volumes in that spar. And instead, I found myself doing a fine dance with Adamar. Ugh... that's right... I will have to talk about dances later.

The exchange of our mock blades were not often, but they happened more than I fell prey to them. Needless to say however, when it comes to shields, I am sorely lacking in strategy and will need to invest further on penetrating such defenses when the need arises. Had it not been for my Lady's intervention to encourage me to carry her will, I might have seen myself out of the spar sooner. Yet, I can't help but wonder if there is still some anger harbored deep in Adamar after that use of spit. Or perhaps his effort to make it even was enough to satiate his former dismay in the way of a 'Wet Willy'. I shudder to know what prompted such a retaliation... Perhaps the evil in the world is not limited to demonstrations of crime, but harmless pranks as well.

But it would seem that I must return the favor of sorts to Adamar upon making my way to Southwatch. According to Lady Sunshield, I am within my right to act with retribution and sour the greaves he treads with. So, I am to make use of mud and... soil that which is a knight's responsibility to keep polished and presentable when representing the House they serve. There is no missing the image of my father rolling in his grave that I am going to enact this sin. But at the very least, it shall be all done afterwards. Or I should hope...

The arrival to the Keep will not be long now in Southwatch. Days have been spent attributing to my belongings and arrangements. Sheryl Fahnestock, a local farmer of Westfall has lent me Dopey, her trusted donkey for several days given that my horse was not available. I have been informed that my horse was borrowed when I was in town and I've yet to see it now.

And did I mention the fellow by the name of Finn Skylark? I'm not going to lie, my initial impression of him was... jaded. Perhaps it was due to the locals of Darkshire or my lack of interactions with him. He always seemed... unamused, disappointed, or... bothered by certain actions. When I gave my knee to Lady Sunshield, I think he questioned why I was so formal. Yet, after several conversations now - I think he is just a bit rough around the edges at first. It takes some continued conversation to get him to acknowledge you have a brain in your skull. I may not be the most gifted magic bearer or scholar, but I can tell when I'm feeling judged. And... recently we have come to a common ground for discussion regarding books and improving one's self. I'm looking forward to reading the books he lent me. In fact... Diary, he wrote one of the books! So this will make for passing the time before bed more enjoyable.

Diary, I know that this is a big passage this time around, and there is so much more I wish to discuss. Yet my hand aches from the handling of my belongings prior to this move. To sum up my next thoughts, there are the Necrolords in Duskwood, the emergence of Nyrsylth and Freya, Grandma Mabel, the Kirin'tor Investigator, Mr. Greer, Ichibod, and more! OH AND THE DANCE! I fret greatly on this dance as such a talent was more of my mother's thing than my own. Father told me I was better off fighting than dancing. Now that I have to do both, I wonder what will come from it.

Soon I will have my own room in Southwatch and the deed with Adamar's boots will commence. Light, if I could commune with you, I would ask that if Adamar gets angry again to please guide him away from exposing the truth of my actions. Until next time, Diary.

@theborderlandcoalition @agilneanrose @valorandvictory @adamarmeadowcroft

[theborderlandcoalition]

Lenôra took note of Lady Sunshield's direction and shook her head. But at the mention of re-instating oaths, she would nod and take a moment to follow. Sir Meadowcroft's squeeze of assurance was barely felt along the armor over her frame as she moved towards the stairs. Each of the Knights were regarded silently as she appraised them each. It was only Sir Folcard that she didn't have much association with since her return. Gently, she bent down to a knee again as she implored her attention to the three knights before her. "I, Squire Lenora Reyes, seek to serve and maintain my oath as a loyal symbol and protector of the realm. By this oath, I stand in the presence of three knights to hold me to the ideals and code laid out by all knights before me. And that I will hold this sense of fealty until my last breath. Never will I stray from my obligations to the people or my House. And should I not uphold this, I will ask that my knights see to my exile or shun me should I not stand by my word. I seek to stand by what I say here today and swear my services as a squire in the name of my people and the House I serve. It will be done so with honor and with my life in its entirety." Rosemarri Sunshield addressed the Knights. "I stand as witness; your approval is needed Knights of Lord Sunshield." Sir Folcard was the first to speak. "I, Sir Jonathan Folcard, accept the Squire Lenora Reyes oath to our lord, our people, and our realm." Next, Eleysia. "I, Dame Eleysia Stormcrow, accept the oath of Squire Lenora Reyes to our lord, our people, and our realm."

And Melek. "I, Sir Melek Dy'neer, accept the oath of Squire Lenora Reyes to our lord, our people, and our realm."

Finally, Adamar. He raised his chin as he listened intently to her words. He was hard-pressed not to smile proudly. "Squire Lenora Reyes. As I said earlier, at times we stray from our paths. But your choice to return to us and reaffirm your oath. Welcome back to the path." He raised his chin and smiled. "I, Sir Adamar Meadowcroft, accept the oath of Squire Lenora Reyes. May you continue to serve our lord, our realm, and all its people." Lenôra keeps her head down as she heard the 4 Knights speak on her behalf. Given that her oath was accepted, she felt a sense of support and familiarity that had been gone in the three years she had been away. Her head lifted to take in the scene before her as she remained on her knee. It seemed she would remain there until told otherwise.

Rosemarri Sunshield brought an end to the small oath ceremony. "I will carry your oath to Lord Sunshield, Squire Reyes. Your knights banish your oath breaker label and accept your shame as their failure to you. It is no longer yours.” Her gaze shifted to each of them, whatever smile she had previously was now gone. “Those Knights we have lost, witness you now. I witness you now and you rise with purpose. For the People.”

[alanden-damouxmg]

Into the Depths

Hell

Alanden would not have guessed it was an endless battlefield of warriors deemed unworthy in the eyes of their barbaric Gods. Locked in futile combat to seek an unattainable honor. A pleading attempt to gain favor with whatever deity’s they worshipped fell upon deaf ears and blind eyes as the battle raged on. Steel clanging against steel echoed throughout the vast expanse of Helheim, and as a warrior fell, the rekindling of life would spark within him and he would rise again - only to join in the fray once more. There was no order. No hierarchy.  It was every man for himself. 

It was not only the Vrykul who found themselves wandering the barren wasteland. Those doomed to the underworld were any deemed unworthy or souls who fell against the coastal Kvaldir raiding parties - only to be forced into Helheim against their will. A war of the Gods, surely, as every downtrodden soul whom Helya claimed was one less champion for the Halls of Valor. It was a frighteningly familiar sight. Mortals and underlings used as pawns in the grand struggle of those who ruled.

Of the eight original members of House Sunshield who embarked on the expedition to save Rosemarri, only seven remained. They had found a minor respite along their journey and took the opportunity to regroup themselves. Much had happened since stepping off the boat that took them from Boralus and onto the shores of Stormheim. Alanden sat perched against a rock, the blade of bone gifted to him from the Vrykul before the group’s descent into darkness gripped tightly in one hand. It was a crude thing, to be sure, but had served him well thus far. He grimaced as his gaze fell to his boots - soaked through and damp from their trek. There was a perpetual wetness that encompassed Helheim. Few dry spots were found and seaweed clung feverishly to any appendage it could grip onto. It seemed everything in this place would fight tooth and nail to keep you from leaving.

Leaving his wet feet to linger at the back of his mind, he looked around the gathered group. His eyes fell first upon the Dame. Eleysia Stormcrow. A Kaldorei warrior who may very well be the senior most member of the group under the Sunshield banner. Alanden remembered her well from the waning years of conflict between the Lord he served and Lord Sunshield. A fierce warrior from what he witnessed. He had always sworn to himself should they find themselves on the opposite sides of battle, he would remain at the furthest corner from the Night Elf. Now, here they were, mucking through Hell together. The last words she spoke to him before departing Saltwood Manor flashed through his his mind as he studied her. “I never expected to be fighting alongside you, Damoux.”

His gaze left Eleysia and sifted right. Sir Adamar Meadowcraft. A seasoned Knight and Paladin. Alanden had witnessed the man’s unrelenting prowess in combat first hand since their arrival here. He was only one of two members of the group who possessed an affinity for wielding the Light. A skill that had proven more and more useful the deeper they progressed into Helheim. A man of conviction from what Alanden had gathered. When Lord Sunshield’s headless corpse collapsed upon the ground Adamar was the first at his side, cradling Araian’s body and crying out to the Heavens. He had purpose for being here, as they all did, but his seemed rooted far more personally that most others. Alanden could not blame the man.

Immediately to his right sat Synna. Sworn Shieldmaiden to Adamar. The two were nearly joined at the hip. Alanden’s brows knitted together and a frown tugged at the corner of his lips. He and her had not seen eye to eye on most decisions made thus far. Morality conflicted with duty and Alanden had found himself on the receiving end of a withering stare from the woman on one or two occasions. It mattered not. Not here, at least. Any dislike or distrust for one another was something to be addressed when they made it back with Rosemarri.

If.

Further along the circle stood Sir Varsen, the head of the Sunshield Guardsmen, and the masked Marksmen. The silent duo, as Alanden had dubbed them, one out of choice and the other seemingly out of the inability to speak to begin with. It was of no concern. The Shieldmaiden Synna had done most of the talking thus far when the situation required it, as she and Varsen knew more of this place than the others within the expedition. Both their abilities in combat had swiftly muted any doubts he had about their uncanny silence throughout the journey. To the left of Varsen, however, was an empty spot. 

The second Shieldmaiden, Astrid, had been sworn to Varsen. The first causality of their party came at the jaws of a monstrous three headed beast. Alanden hadn’t witnessed the horrendous event but he had heard the beast awaken. When Synna, Adamar and Varsen had caught up with the rest - they were one short. Alanden had not pressed the topic. He would offer condolences upon making it out or join her in the eternal afterlife. Whichever came first. He knew little of her. A warrior whose hair was kissed by flame and a fiery disposition to match. Her skills would be missed, certainly, for whatever lay before them they would have benefited greatly from her abilities. 

The final member was not one original in nature. Quite the opposite, actually, as they had picked her up on their way to Boralus. Lady Holia Sunshield. Sister to the deceased Lord Araian Sunshield. It had not taken long for Alanden to piece together the importance of ensuring this woman made it out unscathed. She was shrouded in mystery. Her return. Her reasons. A cloud of unknown lingered above the woman. It hardly mattered. Her name bore enough weight for him to understand her significance should there be any hope for rebuilding House Sunshield. Lord West had taken the bear, Torben, just before the group had stepped into Helheim. Alanden lamented the fact. Surely his sheer size and brute strength would have served them well fighting the Kvaldir. 

As his eyes fell away from the group they focused on the waterlogged, seaweed ridden path ahead. His wet boots pushed themselves to the front of his mind again. Light, he hated having wet feet. Down here, though? It seemed far more important to keep dry. The Inkbinder’s caution flickered across his psyche. 

Do not let the water wash the runes off.

Alanden leaned back against the rock and eased his eyes shut. They had barely rested up until this point. Fatigue clung to him thicker than the seaweed had. As he began to drift off into the blackness of sleep, the last thought to cross his mind was Rosemarri. 

[splinterofthemindseye]

IC Character Blog Roll

So, got new followers and new character Blogs, so here we go

Character: Damian Jharol

Race: Cursed Human

SI: Special Forces Commander and Bronze Dragonflight Epoch Hunter

Face claim: Jensen Ackles

IC Blog: damianjharol.tumblr.com

Status: Active

Character: Daemeon di’Meo

Race: Sindorei

Keeper of the Kin and Agent of Fate

Face Claim: N/A (Sephiroth closest stand in)

IC Blog: daemeondimeo.tumblr.com/

Status: Active

Character: Songla Brightpaw

Race: Pandaren 

Priestess and Red Dragonflight Dragonsworn

Face claim: (N/A) 

IC Blog: songlabrightpaw.tumblr.com

Status: Active

Character: Ragna Dawnsorrow

Race: Sindorei

Retired Blood Knight Master

Face Claim: Sean Bean

IC Blog: http://ragnadawnsorrow.tumblr.com/

Status: Retired

Character: Dame Eleysia Stormcrow

Race: Kaldorei

Knight, Professor of Engineering and Archaeology

Face claim: Kate Beckinsale

IC Blog: eleysiastormcrow.tumblr.com/

Status: Retired

[lenora-reyes]

The Anguish of Defeat

Music

10 days of fighting and now the final battle was upon them. The sky was dark with large puffy clouds aggravated by the Tempest's Fury. Lightning streaked in errant paths towards the mountain's top, where the forces called upon staged their final stand. There a Watcher had emerged to initiate the fight, the construct succumbing to the power and might of the Primal Infused Dragon hellbent on revenge. He was known as Stratogeth. The storms heralded to the bellowing roars of a creature that did not need the titan's blessing to demonstrate or showcase his inate power.

Even with dragons on the Coalition's side, their blades and spells did little in the way of impeding this behemoth's intentions. Throughout the combat, Squire Reyes found herself seeking to save friend and ally alike, to patch herself and others up, and defend herself in the times she was at the mercy of the storm. Even with all her efforts to keep her fellow Knights alive, there was breaks beyond her control. Dame Eleysia Stormcrow had fallen more than once in battle, as did Yelena Sunshield, and eventually Sir Melek. And for a moment, it seemed that despite the adamant resolve of their forces, the enemy's tide would sweep them away.

Electrical discharges that were used in an area-wide effect quickly brought down their numbers as Stratogeth mocked their resolve and feeble attempts to slay him. One by one, she saw her friends and new family fall. And with her oath, she stood her ground against all odds to try to assure victory for the people, House Sunshield, and the Borderland Coalition. But as those electric shocks were dispensed into her and comrades alike, she felt her muscles fail her beneath the weight of plate armor and ruined terrain. Her knees buckled as her hand was paralyzed from maintaining a grip on her sword and shield. She could feel the blood coagulating beneath her armor from wounds received days before now festering into something worse. Words bubbled out of her from her chest as she swore a death to this creature some day. But whether it had left her, she wasn't so certain when her body started to shutdown.

She didn't even know when she hit the ground as that out of body experience began to take place. The streak of lightning flashed before her eyes as the monstrosity of a dragon bailed from their fight, assured that he had sentenced them to an early death. As the sounds rang in her ears from thunder on high, she watched the form of Eleysia become perpetually still beside her alongside Yelena. However, Melek was not within sight of her as her head lulled to the side and wet dirt covered her skin as she had been thoroughly beaten. Rain had fallen on her face and into her eyes, but from the electrical current still keeping her paralyzed, she had no reaction to it. She couldn't blink as her vision became more difficult to see.

Within the edge of her field of view, something dark began to take over the light. It was amorphous at first and she wondered if it was a real image or an illusion. A clawed hand obscured by shadow reached for her and blotted out the rest of the world in a realm of darkness.

To those around her, her body would convulse as if going into a sudden shock before she fell still once more. Her heartbeat now an irregular rhythm as she lay in wait for the dragons to come evacuate her and the remainders of the coalition. The emptiness of awareness was as if she had no existence at all when she was brought into the Medical area with Sir Melek and Dopey.

Living flames, and life blossoms had mended some of her minor injuries until a priestess could take a look at her. Stratogeth's electrical spell held her from examination until it was dispelled and that breastplate was removed. Blood had nearly escaped her entirely on the side as that deep impaled laceration from a glacial spike had re-opened. It stretched from the top of her waist towards her lower breast. The sight had caused panic among the menders as more healers crowded to the use of the light and forced stitches through terribly maimed skin. But all throughout this, there were pleas for Lenora's soul to stay with them. And at this point, how could one tell it was even there?

Color gradually returned to her skin as that breathing continued again after having stopped. It was the only symptom of her life still being availed to her. It was coarse as if someone had her swallow a lump of coal and tried to breathe from the residual smog of dust that covered it.

But soon the tone of the Wife, Aelin could be registered to those with better auditory reception than Lenora.

"Send word to Miss Bee, prepare the medical ward. Jonathan! Yelena was taken to the medical tent. They ain't got enough fucking medics for this!"

It was strange how murky the world was in shadow. There was no light, no hope, nothing. Had there been any semblance of thought, she might have felt pity for letting the others down. For not running when she stood her ground. Questioning the choices she made when there was no direction by their Commander to delay their assault. Burden upon burden would have been taken on by the Squire if only she could speak. If only there were words she could think to even say.

And what would Sir Jonathan say? Sir Adamar? Could they even be proud of this? In the previous battles, there were statements made not to let overconfidence rule her in a fight before it transpired. And she did heed the words of the Knight Captain and tried her best. But even at her best, she fell short. The grief that would have claimed her was also lackluster and gone.

A numb acceptance to the workings of world as her body and belongings were brought back to the Eastern Kingdoms. Even though she was cleaned of her blood and covered in a blanket, there was only the residual scent of water from the rain and sweat that had soaked her. Hands quickly stripped away those armor pieces once more to the bare minimum of cloth beneath her armor. Her shirt was a tattered mess, torn from battle as it hardly covered her stitched side. Bruising had offered a dark complexion on her face from rocks that had hit along her helm, and a bite mark that settled upon her other shoulder from a smaller proto-dragon.

How long would Miss Bee and her staff toil with the unresponsive form of the Squire? Would she be even able to return to Darkshire? What of Dopey and his various injuries? All those souvenirs she had wanted to give to everyone when she got home now lie in wait in various bags brought back with her. And when would the sun rise again for her?... Mentions:

@theborderlandcoalition @valorandvictory @honorablecombat @agilneanrose @adamarmeadowcroft @melekdyneer @sunsandwolves @eleysiastormcrow