OOC
Minecraft Username: UltimateZZV
Are you at least 18 years old?: Yes
Have you read the rules? (Link): Yes!(Optional) How did you hear about Avalore?: A friend!(Max. 1) Were you referred by someone? If so, please provide their in-game username: KZNeilz
(Optional) Introduce yourself if you’d like, as well as any creations you want to share (e.g. art, builds, skins):
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In-Character
Read the following prompt:
The rhythmic lull of hoofbeats are a marching drum to the small group of pioneers and variety of folk you have found yourself amongst, packed into a wobbling wagon. The rolling plains of the Southern Reach and a clear sky stretch out all around you, the buzz of excited chatter a dull wash in your ears as your mind strays to your former life and what has led you here to new lands.
“Nervous?”
You blink, returning to the present moment. A kindly older woman sat near you is smiling warmly with a crinkle to her eyes.
“I can tell it’s your first time. Still remember mine,” she flashes a grin and leans in.
“Tell me my dear, why have you come to the Reach?”
How do you respond?
The young stranger considers her question, his brow wrinkling with a thought before his attention returns to the carriage boarding that his feet rest upon. His otherwise ever-present (false) confidence was failing him for the first time since his childhood. “Haven’t seen the Spire in years,” He practically barked the lie out, continuing after clearing his throat, “and I’ve got a score to settle with a man who lives there.”
He didn’t have to raise his eyes from his feet to know the shrewd woman did not accept his answer for truth. Still, he glanced her way and caught her head give a disappointed tilt. With nowhere to go, he braced for a chastising.
Much to his surprise, she only showed the young man kindness and concern. Over the next few minutes of conversation she brought his racing mind to center. Eventually the young elf felt comfortable, taking in a deep breath of the Reach’s air.
It felt like the first time he inhaled since he had arrived here. He had not let his mind recount the events of his life since he left home. He could feel it jump with excitement at the opportunity to relive his history.
Save the rise and fall of hooves, blissful silence had fallen over the two. Other travellers chattered, but none so loud as to clutter the moment. “My name is Amara,” He concluded, “and I’m running as far away as I can.”
Returning--no, newfound, and honest--confidence carved a stern smile. Looking to the woman, he declared with fervor: “I come from a poor family, and we were loyal to our lord. We broke ourselves upon the harshest soil in Ko’ram Sharuul to feed him, and my father and I broke our spears in his wars.” Amara’s expression soured, and an air of anger licked at his words. “He fed my father and I lies, told us the Great Adar was a tyrant. We believed the man, and served in his plot to overthrow Buzeje. We were sent to court the Odokhi for the lord, believing they would send armies to his support.”
The elf’s passion roared, though he did not seem to notice his lilac eyes watering at the edges. “You asked why I came to the Reach. Well, on the night we put the plan into action, the Odokhi force was nowhere to be seen. When it became clear we would lose the battle, our lord snuck away and turned my father and I into scapegoats!”
“We were branded deserters,” he continued, “Traitors! When we were the ones that were deceived. All of Sharuul was leveraged against us, and when they found my father--” Amara’s breath catches as his emotions suddenly (or, perhaps, finally), become too much to bear. As his monologue fell silent, he noticed the other travellers aboard the wagon had, likewise, dropped into noiselessness. He didn’t know when he had stood up in the wagon, but all he could do now was fall back into the seat and weep.
The older woman knew the fate most deserters met, she did not have to guess what the father’s was. She couldn’t count the number of once-soldiers who had come to the Reach to escape the very same end. With a gentle arm, she consoled the young elf. It was not the first time she had calmed such emotions.
She had little doubt it would be her last.
Amara’s mind raced with images of his escape from home; nights spent in secret, hoping no one would find him. Near escapes, the fire-marked battlefield he was told to run from, and what he found when he returned.
He leant into the warm embrace of the strange older woman and thought on the weeks he spent in the Iron Bastion after he left. He learned to blend in with the lowest of the low, how to live from other’s pockets. Would she still show him concern if she knew?
Would his father accept him if he did?
As his eyes finally began to dry, he looked beyond the rear of the wagon, towards mountains that this group traversed long ago. Only the tallest peaks were visible now, shrinking into the horizon. Stories of boys becoming men as they traverse unassailable giants just like them.
"Go as far as you can see,” His father’s rasping breath echoed in Amara’s memory, “and when you get there you'll see further."
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Character Name: Amara Tugiirgen
Character Race: Arsa Sidhe
Character Age: 24
Brief Physical Description: A shorter (5'11) representative of the Arsa Sidhe, Amara has had to rely on his cunning and flexibility to set himself apart from other Arsa Sidhe members of the Korami clans in their martial culture. As such, he has a very lean muscularity. He has a rosy skin tone with a remarkably unblemished complexion, and he keeps his chestnut-colored hair fairly short and well-groomed. His eyes are a gentle lilac hue, and they carry wistful joy and frozen grief in equal measure.
