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 Post subject: Zalla Red
PostPosted: Jul 15th, '09, 12:34 
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Joined: Jul 11th, '09, 15:39
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Pretty close to how I picture Zalla. No ice magic, rounder eyes and slightly smaller breasts (she's not fully grown yet, afterall, being a half-elf).

It's worth noting that the story outlined in the first post isn't entirely accurate, since she only knew what her mother had told her about her origins.

---

Zalla's mother was Elisa Stenvall, the daughter of a Nherazkar noble. Her father was an elven servant, with whom Elisa had a forbidden affair. She got pregnant and had to flee the Rage Nest for fear of her life, at the age of seventeen.

Elisa spent the next fifteen years hiding and running from her father's assassins, using the name Ella Red, raising her daughter as best she could. Their life on the run was not easy, but things calmed down eventually. It seemed the assassins had finally lost the trail.

Eleven years after Elisa's flight from home, the mother and daughter settled on the outskirts a small village near the Westbranch river. Zalla learned to swim very well, and grew to love water. For four years, their life was reasonably happy and peaceful.

On the night of an early spring day in 5003, Zalla's world was shattered. The Reds were attacked on the way home, on a path overlooking the river. Though far from a helpless damsel, Elisa fell quickly, unarmed and surprised as she was. With failing strength she pushed her paralyzed daughter into the rapids below, whispering one word, one final command laden heavy with emotion. "Live!"

As Zalla's fall broke the river's surface, so did the water free her from her shock-frozen state. Now she would swim or die, by the river's fury or an assassin's blade.

Swim she did, and eventually drifted to the Starseer Academy, where her formal education was due to begin in a few months.

Very little besides combat lessons was of interest to Zalla Red. She made herself familliar with mechanics enough to gain a solid understanding of locks and traps, and studied anatomy in search of ways to kill with ruthless efficiency.

As years passed, Zalla became increasingly guarded and withdrawn on the inside. She never sought to isolate herself, even if trust and true friendship did not exist for her. "Kinda shy and a bit creepy" is how some of her fellow students characterized Zalla, what with her habits of sneaking and stalking.

Shortly after her graduation, Zalla found herself in a chance encounter with Lord Pelgrin Swordjust, who praised the virtues of Solinar and convinced her to visit the realm. The warlord introduced himself simply by first name, and only later did Zalla realize just who her guide was.

She currently stays in the city, as local authorities have freelance work available, which gives her the chance to put theory to practice and develop her various skills further. Meeting powerful and interesting people doesn't hurt, either. Helping out for payment is one thing, joining the Preservers another. Codes, laws, orders. Who knows what opportunities are to be found?

//

Zalla starts as True Neutral. She has no grand principles to uphold; she has enough qualities and inclinations from Good, Evil, Law and Chaos to land her somewhere in the middle of it all. She's selfish but not malicious, vengeful but not spiteful. Doesn't set out to tear down power structures or seek things to rebel against, just doesn't like being told what to do.

However, she is open to influences, being young and fairly inexperienced. She could become a dark creature indeed, or a noble soul.

Her goal in life is to become strong enough to protect herself. Skill, hoarded magic and wealth all serve this end. Though she lacks the introspective ability to see this, she is trying to defeat a deep-rooted fear by becoming what she fears. If she is the death lurking in shadows, there is nothing more to fear, no life-destroying loss to endure.

Physically Zalla is a fit and agile young woman. She's around 160 cm tall, leaning toward voluptuous rather than slim in build, though she isn't fully mature yet because of her elven half. Deep brown eyes, dark, slightly wavy red hair at shoulderlength. Overall she is smaller and more delicate than her mother, but the resemblance is obvious enough for her to be recognized as Elisa's child.

Personal hygiene and cleanliness are important to her, though not to a point of obsessive behavior. She doesn't wash her hands twenty times in an hour; she won't voluntarily enter a sewer or clean up vomit. Not squeamish, but mildly fussy with some things. No make-up, swirly dresses or flashy jewelry. Comfort and utility first, then aesthetics.

Zalla is not a virgin, nor is she truly learned when it comes to sex. Her first experiences involved sometimes paying for food or shelter during the travel to Starseer with no gold or useful skills. The few brief relationships she had while studying left her with the opinion that romance is not worth the effort. Zalla can appreciate an attractive man or a woman, but isn't likely to seek out either.

She makes a poor seductress; though she has the looks for it, she lacks charm and subtlety. Manipulating people is one of her weakest areas. On the other hand, she'd be difficult to seduce, too. Her distrustful and nihilistic nature creates an imposing barrier for anyone trying to figure her out. She can be tricked into doing things, but much less likely to be tricked into believing in sentiments toward her.

In a nutshell, Zalla is good with processing abstract ideas, forming plans and such, but terrible at discreetly manipulating people or understanding them on a deeper level.


What's in her future? Depends on so many things. Pelgrin has shown that good people can possess vast personal power. Franny has been kind and generous for no gain whatsoever, giving valuable gifts and advice without hope of getting anything back. Anni just strolled along and brought two people back from the dead. Solinar itself is clean and orderly, everything seems to work well. So, why not join the forces of order and good?

OOC, it's much more likely that Zalla will sign up as a Preserver than a Crusader. The "gate must stay closed, gate must be opened" issue would've been a major attraction to lure Zalla to the Crusaders. Claiming her heritage could be another, if there's a heritage to claim, but the elven half getting all kinds of hate might dissuade her from trying. There could be a revenge angle, too. Join up, prove your worth to grandpa Stenvall and stab his eyes out.

Right now there's no real IC reason to join either faction. There's no compelling IC reason not to join Preservers, strong reasons for as well as against joining Crusaders. Zalla could be a scout, a spy, an assassin. A frontline trooper she is not (although she could squeeze into a full plate and pick up a tower shield if really needed, it's not her "thing" to fight like that).


Last edited by Kie on Apr 20th, '10, 08:00, edited 1 time in total.

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 Post subject: Re: Zalla Red
PostPosted: Aug 5th, '09, 22:21 
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"I owe you my life, Zalla Red," spoke the ageless being in his diminutive form. He expressed his gratitude and made his promise, and all Zalla could do was stand there grinning like a dimwit, fighting the nonsensical yet compelling urge to step forth and hug the adorable little dragon.

Chaosmos' shape vanished in a sparkling cloud of magic.

Something was wrong. Wrong, or just different? The dragon had done something to her, she could feel it. Her upper back felt strangely itchy and a cold sweat broke on her brow for no reason at all.

Zalla fell to her knees, growling in pain, as an unknown force tore through the back of her enchanted leather armor. She had been hurt in so many different ways before, but this was an entirely new experience. It was as if much of the pain radiated from a part of her that had not been there before.

Balancing on the verge of panic, she reached for an invisibility potion on her belt. Had someone snuck up on her and slid knives under her shoulderblades; how had she not heard anything? She still heard nothing but her own laboured breathing.

A reflection in the nearby creek's waters brought Zalla's motion to a frozen halt. There was something on her back, something alien, something inexplicable. It had to be a parasite of some sort, latched on to her during the brief moment she had floated in the void, an unfathomable horror from beyond time and space... no.

Cold, sharp logic began methodically cutting through the seething mass of primal fear. She had not been stabbed, as her hands worked fine, nor did she feel dizzy from loss of blood. She could smell her own blood, yes, but this injury was not severe. The phenomenon on her back was not a parasite, for she had not been anywhere but the crystal prison, which presumably worked much like a pocket plane. Further, an ancient and mighty being such as Chaosmos would not have allowed such a thing to go unnoticed, or untended.

Her fear defeated by the calm logic, Zalla stood up. She packed away her desert shawl and donned her trusty old cloak to cover the curious abnormality on her back. Already the pain was subsiding, the regenerative magics of her jewelry mending what damage had been done.

The half-elf looked around and listened for a moment. Satisfied that there seemed to be no witness to these strange events in the darknening night of Solinar's countryside, she squared her shoulders and moved south, past the trees.

Zalla stopped at the riverbank, and having made sure no one had followed her, removed her cloak to confirm her suspicions. The river's surface mirrored the rising full moon, as did it mirror Zalla's silvery wings. She kneeled at the water's edge, balancing her palms upon her knees, and stared at her reflection in silence.

What did that wretched lizard do to me? was the first coherent thought she could form.


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 Post subject: Re: Zalla Red
PostPosted: Aug 16th, '09, 03:23 
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A final stroke of the needle, and her work was done. Zalla stood up and inspected closely this new shirt in the privacy of her room at the Sunrise Inn. Even if all the research in the world would not make her a seamstress in a day or two, the quality was more than acceptable. The padded shirt held its enchantments perfectly after the modifications made. Since asking Tracy to make wing slits into her clothes seemed a poor idea, Zalla had thought it best to do the work herself, and she had done well.

The wings weren't so awkward anymore; they really were a part of her. Persistent practice had already given her control of their basic motor functions, and now she was able to spread and fold her wings at will. Her current exercise was to move them slowly. Sometimes she would get painful cramps and bizarre spasms, causing the majestic wings to twitch pitifully, but she was making steady progress. After the initial shock and a disastrous attempt to cut them off, which had been halted because it hurt like hell and abandoned as common sense demanded this, the young woman had more or less accepted her winged state of existence. Just like any other limb, they needed practice and exercise to be used properly. Perhaps one day she would fly. The thought lit a smile on her face.

Zalla's smile withered and died as the recent events returned to the forefront of her mind. The Sunrise City had been brought to its knees without warning, just about everyone within its walls turned undead by a lich's dark magic. The half-elf couldn't decide if the fact that none of them knew what awful thing had been done to them was a mercy, or if it only added to the deed's monstrosity. She knew. She remembered. She would always remember what she had seen, for her soul was scarred by the sight of the abomination. Skeletal guards slouched against the walls, commoners on late night walks strewn about the streets, unmoving yet undead, ready to rise at the lich's command. Mickey, too, probably. Zalla thanked the gods she had not seen the boy that night.

She could not stay in the city, not after this. Solinar was full of life in the daylight, but wherever she looked, Zalla saw haunting visions of death. From the lowliest beggar to the most noble paladin, they had all been skeletons. Even the peaceful twilight of the library and the solitude of her room offered little comfort. There would be no more casual conversations at the market, no more running into strange creatures and famous heroes. At least not in Solinar.

Where to go? While it might be possible to simply stay out of the way and let the pendelum swing as it would, a hermit's life wasn't for Zalla Red. She did need time, however, to get a better grasp of her own abilities and limits. More understanding, eyes open to the balance... thus had the Silver Flight's Patriarch spoken, unlocking something in her mind. It was as if Zalla had been living in a single room all her life, and the dragon had opened a door to show her she had a house at her disposal. She had always been smart, but now she was something else. Reasoning, analyzing, thinking was so easy now. Better yet, Zalla had found some inner peace, a state of personal equilibrium.

For all her fighting skills and newfound mental prowess, Zalla had been unable to stop the undead archmage from getting exactly what he wanted. As much as she had grown, she was insignifigant compared to the forces at work in the world. She had no real power. Yet, Pelgrin and Tammy had been made to dance to the lich's tune, even Candeth had been reduced to an observer. The lich was a true mastermind. He had arrived with a meticulous plan backed by vast magical power. He had even taken the time to gloat and taunt his victims. Yet... his arrogance was so great that he had let slip a vital bit of information about the Curse.

Small steps would be the way for her, patience was needed. Maybe someday she would arrive with a meticulous plan, holding all the advantages. Zalla wouldn't gloat or taunt, though, should that day come. She would put a Deadslayer mace up that lich's robe and twist it.

Now, however, was the time to decide the first small step's direction. Zalla didn't want to stay in Solinar, as the memory of the night of horrors was too fresh, too disturbing. Returning to Starseer Academy for a while was an option, but that environment would have too many distractions. Crossroads was perfect. She could hone her stealth abilities further, learn alchemy, get to understand nature better and simply enjoy the halflings' way of life. She would have space to spread her wings and time to learn many things.

First, preparations had to be made, books purchased, debts and favors collected. Small steps.


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 Post subject: Re: Zalla Red
PostPosted: Nov 5th, '09, 02:02 
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How things change, Zalla thought, as she sat in the Gul'Danir lodge's upstairs lounge. She had never thought being rich and idle could be so... boring. Was this how retired adventurers felt? No, of course not. 'They' weren't robbed of their fighting skills and even basic senses to avoid danger. Well, most of them weren't, probably. She was rich, helpless, in great danger and very bored. A strange enough combination of things to be.

She had a man named Fong Chao-Lan to thank for her condition. Or perhaps her grandfather, or even herself, if she really wanted to get philosophical on the subject. Regardless of who gave the order and why, the assassin monk had been the one to strike her with the forbidden technique called Kiss of the North Wind, said to disable a warrior for life. Someday, somehow, she would return the favor in some fashion.

Today the redhead half-elf had more immediate concerns, such as not getting murdered by Syndicate thugs while helpless. Though the Lotus Fist had kept her safe so far, Mary had left the previous day, her words implying that Zalla would never become her student. How had the old woman known her intentions before she even knew herself? Experience, maybe, and insights gained from dealing with Zalla's mother. The agreement had been that no watcher from the Lotus would follow her west of the lodge, so this was where she would stay for now. Hopefully the Syndicate would soon accept that she was not their problem any longer.

Zalla reached for the apple pie stashed on the large chair's left armrest. She picked up the knife on the plate very carefully, and cut a slice slowly, methodically, paying close attention to every movement. This was how she behaved now near flames or sharp things of any kind. What with her self-preservation instincts disabled and her inability to wear any of her regenerative jewelry, lest the magic interfere with recovery and leave her a cripple for life, even the most mundane things were dangerous.

She would work through this, whether by natural healing in time or adapting to a new way of doing things, using logic and rational thinking to replace lost instincts. It was simply a matter of surviving until then, although there was nothing simple about survival like this.


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 Post subject: Re: Zalla Red
PostPosted: Nov 18th, '09, 12:36 
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Atop a small rock plateau, blown clear of snow by mountain winds, the assassin danced. Zalla's improvised and unpredictable fighting style had been a merge of the solid core given by formal martial training, knowledge from anatomy studies and natural agility honed further with practice. Now it was something more; she was something more. Yet, for all her grace, speed and precision, her murderous uncle had called the young woman slow and clumsy. She would improve, though no amount of ability could ever unite Zalla with her blood relatives. The Crimson saw her as an abomination.

An elf in the family is just unseemly.

The words echoed in her memory as she went through her attack routines, but she felt no bitterness or outrage. This was how it was. Zalla had sought revenge at any cost, and the price had been acting the part of a poisoned blade used by a man to murder his brother. Used by one uncle to kill the other, as she had learned during Fong's final moments. Would it have mattered, had she known? There was no answer.

A tool for murder was the role of an assassin, and she was now most decidedly an assassin. What she did with her skills, however, would be her own choice. Never to be a pawn of the Lotus, nor a servant of Solinar, neither would she waste her life in some pathetic attempt to gain her resentful kin's favor. It had been a long, hard road that led her to a simple understanding impossible to learn from another. She could belong, always, no matter the place or the company. Neither an elf nor a human, Zalla was herself. Others would either accept or refuse her, and that choice was theirs to make, just as the opposite was true.

The assassin danced with her blades in the freezing wind, a fierce and primal joy burning within her. She was finally at peace with the world... and herself.


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 Post subject: Re: Zalla Red
PostPosted: Mar 12th, '10, 21:33 
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Though gold had never been Zalla's main motivation, she could not deny that there was something very satisfying about the sound of two solid gold bars brought together. The Maharaja's methods both amused her and met with her quiet approval so far. First a less than subtle threat, followed by a sizeable payment for her silence, likely just because he could. Then again, it was possible he did not know how to handle someone like her, so he offered both the honey and the vinegar to be certain. Whatever the reasoning, the Sandstorm Port's jovial ruler's approach worked.

The Laughing Wind seemed oddly alike and different from taverns she had visited elsewhere in the world. Here the smoke was only partly tobacco, the rest a mix of strange scents and narcotic herbs. Some kind of magic created constant drafts that kept the air inside the tavern in motion. Thugs, slavers, rich bastards and courtesans mingling for business and pleasure accounted for the majority of patrons. An exotic place, and dangerous to the unwary.

In the locals' eyes, Zalla was surely exotic, what with her fair skin, red hair and elven features, and valuable as such. She had already disappointed one enterprising slaver, and the night was still young. Southern men were almost refreshing in their complete lack of interest in her as a person; they looked upon her as they might admire healthy livestock. Such disrespect could be made to work in her favor from time to time, no matter how tiresome it grew.

Once again, the promise of revenge had lured the young woman to join forces with questionable characters. The masked man was a thief and a scoundrel, a true rogue, but also cunning and capable. Though she didn't trust him overly much, she trusted his intent to strike against the Syndicate. If there was any truth to his claims, they would do the organization harm far worse than slaughtering simple street thugs or disrupting minor operations. This time she wasn't rushing blindly into the unknown, indifferent to any price she might yet come to pay. The reckless approach had its merits only when it was truly unpredictable. With proper planning, allies and information, lasting victories could be had.

Spending some time in B'Ahal Bäe might serve as a precaution against her kin's tracking attempts as well. Zalla did not question the sincerity of the shinobi's warning, or the vicious woman's unusual benevolence toward herself, so the claim that her grandfather was still alive would have to be given some credibility. Whatever the case, the old bastard would not have the satisfaction of feigning sorrow over her funeral pyre.

The assassin leaned back and lifted her boots on the table's edge, patiently waiting for the masked rogue's return in the tavern's shadows. First, her share of the dragon's hoard. This thought made her smile in anticipation. Then, whether gold or blood, the Syndicate would bleed. Her smile widened into a grin most wicked.


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 Post subject: Re: Zalla Red
PostPosted: Mar 21st, '10, 16:10 
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Every single moment was so beautiful. Every sight, every sound, every breath so full of life. Now that her time was coming to its end, Zalla found herself appreciating the smallest of things in a new way, while she was still here.

Could this be described as a good death? It was good enough, she decided. Her dimming eyes turned to examine the dark elf's corpse nearby, no more than an arm's length from what would soon be her own resting place.

Bar'korol right back at you. Whatever that means. I won.

How many centuries of silent murder had that creature seen before this night, she wondered. He had sounded somehow relieved as her blades ended his life. Apathy such as his words reflected surely came with a long life devoid of hope and meaning. Only during the battle had the drow displayed any glimpse of passion, and even that only after the half-elf had turned his masterful ambush into a surprising retreat. Perhaps Zalla, too, would have become like the dark elf as she grew older, had she lived. She would never know.

The irony of someone so agile being barely able to turn her head was not lost on Zalla, though she was not amused. This nerve poison in her blood was too strong to fight off much longer; movement was all but nulled, hearing already gone. Sight would be next. Her back against the tree, she gazed west with some effort. The sun had set moments earlier, all that was left were the last rays of a fading day.

The world grew dark.


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 Post subject: Re: Zalla Red
PostPosted: Apr 20th, '10, 08:15 
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Strike, step, strike, kick, step. All that disturbed the monastery training room's nightly silence were Zalla's quiet sounds of movement and her light, rhythmic breathing. The Lotus Fist's latest Black Lotus Adept preferred solitude in her practice; partly because this allowed her to set her own pace, partly to compensate for the lack of personal space and privacy in the daily monastic life.

While the body worked, the mind wandered, contemplating events, analyzing responses both her own and those of others, seeking details overlooked in the past. The previous weeks had been a time of profound changes for Zalla, from the night she defeated the dark elven assassin to the recent conversation with the halfling matriarch.

Once a frightened girl, then a trained killer, now a living weapon. She had gone a long way in so short a time, due to circumstances and talent. Years of combat training together with natural agility were applied to martial arts easily enough; adjusting techniques was relatively simple with a mind as sharp as Zalla's. It was the ki aspect that surprised her, how readily understanding came after she had gotten started and her chakras had become active. These energies were a natural part of her as were her arms and legs, if not even moreso in a way.

Circumstances and talent. Or was there more to it? The Ghazakiin Archfather himself had commended her, and the fact that a being such as Wallendil was even aware of her existence was a high compliment in and of itself. Chaosmos, Wallendil, Lady Sparkbringer... all beings of unfathomable age and power, each benign toward her. She had seen deities and devils, once even gazed upon Lucifer's form. Destiny always did seem an empty word, more a jest than anything of substance. Who could say.

The enemy thought her defeated, her vengeance held in check by their threat toward innocents. Little did they know. While the shinobi secluded herself in training, her allies gathered information and made preparations. The Syndicate's best defense was their anonymity: how would one strike against an unknown foe? That veil would first be torn away, frayed, burned. A deadly game in the shadows, leading to a number of decisive attacks. The plan itself was simple, though the execution would take time and patience, both of which she now had in plenty.

A soft smile played on the woman's lips as she moved through the forms. They had time, indeed.


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 Post subject: Re: Zalla Red
PostPosted: May 21st, '10, 20:17 
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The dragon had spoken of things he wanted, of what would make him feel secure, and called her his goddess. These memories challenged the aspiring monk's inner serenity far more than even the recent revelations of her origins, though in a very different way. Love, happiness? Surely not for her. Not because she didn't feel deserving of such, but because she had no need of these things. Yet, there they were, within her, strange guests determined to stay.

Magnificent was the sight of Druganon's form leaving the shadows, enough so to be forever etched in his grand-daughter's memory. Atop the tower, he had called her a beautiful child, and even the recollection of his praise made her want to smile. Receiving any words of encouragement from a blood relative was a joy the girl had thought now beyond her.

Her father, half Langor elf and half shadow dragon, was no slave of Nherazkar. He remained very much alive, in contrast to what Zalla's mother had told her years ago. Even her own name was revealed to be a disguise: the Loremaster had named his daughter Allazelin, Rising Dawn. Their time together had been so very brief, and she longed to know him better.

All of this certainly strange and surprising, the part that proved most puzzling to Allazelin was her blood heritage. She carried no physical traits marking her a draconic being, nor did she possess the powers of one. Even her shadow abilities were unusual, as if somehow aberrant. The shadowmeld seemed much like that of a shadowdancer, and would surely prove invaluable. Supernatural abilities and shinobi skills together gave her a variety of options with stealth.

The only external sign of Zalla's awakening second nature were her eyes, now twin wells of darkness in the middle. She could see in the blackest night and the lightless depths below ground, as well as walk under the sun unhindered. Even the order master in charge of her shadow training could not say what would be next, if anything. Zalla wasn't worried in the least. Though her eyes had changed, her heart and mind had not.


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 Post subject: Re: Zalla Red
PostPosted: Jul 9th, '10, 13:03 
Masters of Fate

Joined: Jul 11th, '09, 15:39
Posts: 88
Once change became constant enough, did it cease being change? Or did life itself include such a component? Nature's cycle was both constant and everchanging, as were the lives of mortals. That which lived seemed to change, and that which did not change would stagnate, wither or crumble.

Mere hours before gating to the shadow plane, Allazelin had attained a measure of enlightenment. No one had witnessed her greatest moment, the culmination of her ki training. It was fitting that her dark eyes should first flare alight with inner fire above the cavern where this path had once begun. The journey had returned her to the beginning, yet above in more than one sense.

Shaedenaar, the holy city of shadows, was now free of the demonic siege. Free was also the shades' high priestess. As reward for her part in pushing back the abyssal forces, Zalla had been taught how to move through shadows. Perhaps she would have learned this on her own eventually, perhaps the priestess' gift was somehow greater.

This new cycle had been started with important lessons regarding the might and resilience of the human spirit. Through faith and love even Hell's shackles could be broken, yet even the bravest of men were not without their frailties. The powers of Heaven could be callous and cruel, an archdevil might be called an ally... and the Lord Himself sought to learn from mortals.

Allazelin had seen a glimpse of eternity, a brief look into the Creation's wonders unfolding as Tsaire led her through the starways and nothingness. She had witnessed Haniel appear in a form that left no question of what the title Overgod meant. There, in that indescribable place that was nowhere at all, watching deities bend time and space to their will, the woman had felt no fear or discomfort.

She knew her place, her worth, her purpose. Through training and quiet discovery, Zalla had reached a state of inner harmony that granted her fondest wish. No force in this world or any other could bend her will. She was now truly unbreakable.


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 Post subject: Re: Zalla Red
PostPosted: Nov 10th, '10, 05:28 
Masters of Fate

Joined: Jul 11th, '09, 15:39
Posts: 88
A woman's scream echoed in the alleys of Solinar's slums.

Allazelin watched the scene unfold from her perch upon a roof overlooking the culdesac. She wanted to be certain, first, before taking action.

There was nothing unusual about the two people below: a man and a woman, commoners by look and garb. His career was not thug or cut-throat, but perhaps a craftsman of some sort. Her clothes spoke of a poorer lot in life, yet they were not those of a whore.

She backed away from him, avoiding his touch. Very soon there would be no space for further retreat.

Zalla watched and waited, much like the Midnight Dawn watched and waited as people did terrible things to one another... this was no different, only the scale was smaller. Anger flared beneath her stoic exterior as she thought of her order's response to the situation. Mary had been unavailable, deep in meditation for days now. Anni had seemed detached, unconcerned, as she simply told Zalla to see to her tasks and stay out of it.

Was she to stand aside and do nothing while an entity from the Beyond bent the world to its whim? Yet, what could she do? What could a mortal woman do when the Burning King had fallen to the void and Lord Haniel himself seemed powerless to stop this Binn Gan Fo from defiling his temple? She would find out what, if anything. If indeed Zalla was a weapon of earth, she refused to hide away when the very gods failed against this threat to the world.

Her back now against the wall, the woman had tears of fright in her eyes. This was no lovers' game.

Allazelin dropped down to the alleyway and moved closer, a shadow among shadows. She would not stand by and watch.

A man's scream echoed in the alleys of Solinar's slums.


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 Post subject: Re: Zalla Red
PostPosted: Dec 26th, '10, 09:25 
Masters of Fate

Joined: Jul 11th, '09, 15:39
Posts: 88
Unexpected, uninvited, he was there, the entity feared by many and sought by few. Binn Gan Fo stood before her in all his dark glory.

Existential ponderings and rhethroric aside, the half-elf knew well she was less than an insect to this devourer of gods. An idle thought could dismiss her from existence. Yet, if her theory was correct, she could not be in company more safe.

"Hello, Zalla," he spoke. "Three questions."

Binn Gan Fo read the burning curiosity from her thoughts, or perhaps her very soul, and granted answers with the magnanimousness of a being all-powerful, or so close it made no difference to a mortal.

Two questions she phrased, succinct and purposeful. Two answers were given, perfectly worded to bring her understanding.

"Then I am left with but one question of any relevance," said Allazelin. "What would you have me do, Lord?"

The shinobi was left standing alone on the road with her final answer, the dark entity gone as though he had never been there. Of the three answers, this was the only one that truly surprised her.

Allazelin stepped into the shadow of a nearby tree and then she, too, was gone.


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