Ice and Fire

Don't fight forces; use them.

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Considered one of the most mysterious cities in Mizahar, Alvadas is called The City of Illusions. It is the home of Ionu and the notorious Inverted. This city sits on one of the main crossroads through The Region of Kalea.

Ice and Fire

Postby Aislyn Leavold on May 22nd, 2016, 4:09 pm

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81st of Spring, 516 AV


Aislyn was an artist, not a fighter.
Not a lover, of course, but she wasn’t exactly big on combat either. She had too many weaknesses- too many easily attackable points. She lacked the foolish hope so many people in the Winter War- as she’d taken to calling it- had died holding onto. She was a stuck stick when it came to self-preservation, and was never one for teamwork. If meant to choose between a teammate and escape, she’d choose escape, every single time.
So why had she heard ‘fighting force’, and immediately wanted to join?

The woman could come up with a few reasons, just to convince herself. First, she needed to not be so weak all the damn time. Having an excuse to train any sort of ability would help that. Second, those fighting in the Winter War had openly used a kind of magic Aislyn had never seen before- the kind hushed over in everyday Alvadas. She had not seen, nor heard any mention of such a magic since. If it was to be used purely for danger and doom and gloom, then the artist was going to have to seek out some danger and doom and gloom to locate it. Lastly, the invitation, from what rumors she could pick up, was extended to all those devoted to the city. Not necessarily martially inclined, but devoted.
And there was no one more devoted than an illusionist with a taste for power.

There was, however, a catch.
Aislyn had been taking walks throughout the now cave-like, icy city. She had, like many others, noticed the particular ‘crack in the wall’ that people tended to stay away from. Or dive right into. The latter of which tended not to be seen all that much anymore. But the woman didn’t deny she was curious, and might have been planning to venture in regardless of any goal a zealous Alvad warrior had set. So it was just one more rather timely reason why the opportunity was so convenient. The only reason Aislyn hadn’t jumped head-first into the mysterious ice cave was because of one small detail that had been fairly prominent- and more importantly, consistent- in the information she had come across. There was something in the cave.

What that something was, that’s another story.

It was a fairly foreboding kind of image; a magical cave only the foolhardy run into, and a rumor about what atrocities lay inside. It was much like the door from the season before, in a way. An entrance to the unknown that no one really seemed to know the origin of, or what was on the other side. But everyone was curious. That was what brought Alvads together, in the end- curiosity. A shared trait between the majority of the population. It was a trait embedded into the very city itself, and the deity that presided it. Curiosity in itself was a very dangerous thing, and had led to the downfall of many an Alvad. Not every illusion was as intangible as it appeared, after all. Whatever was inside the cave was almost definitely an illusion, but was just as definitely dangerous as well.
The only question was what, exactly, it was.

Aislyn had been no exception to the number of Alvads imagining what kind of creature lay amidst the icy cavern. Something akin to the undead from winter. An invisible monster, impossible to trace. Ionu themself, perhaps. No one knew. After all, there had been that one season where quite a few Alvads had disappeared straight into the ground, only to reappear and swear they’d met the deity of illusions in person. Several vigilantes had already disappeared into the crack in the wall- perhaps they were having tea and biscuits with Ionu as well.

Or they were dead.
That was a possibility as well.
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Ice and Fire

Postby Aislyn Leavold on May 22nd, 2016, 11:24 pm

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In preparation, Aislyn had tried to predict any and all scenarios. In the end, she packed up similarly to how she had during the winter: as light as possible, and, of course, as mobile as possible. This time she had no need to bring clothing, which freed up more space. Crossbow, quiver, some charcoals and parchment, just in case. Her newly purchased knife, attached to its sheath in its proper place. Bladed boots, with a tiny wrist knife slipped inside. Aislyn had basically taken to the philosophy that if one had no ability with a weapon, they were most likely going to drop it. And if one dropped their weapon… might as well have three more to keep up the fight. Some rations, her mirror, flint & steel, and a waterskin. She dressed all in black, though she left Akajia’s robes to be worn another day. In a change of pace from her usual linen cloak, she wore a wool one, adding a bit of warmth to the outfit.
She left her first notebook at home, though she brought her second one with her. Partially for comfort, partially because if what she met in the cave wasn’t physical, she might as well get what is really was down on writing before it disappeared.

For now, however, the book was kept secure in her bag, and it was finally time to venture out into the cold, or at very least get to the bottom of what this icy cave was all about. That being said, the frozen appearance of Alvadas demanded some sort of protection from the cold, a protection many Alvads lacked, given the usual mild weather of the city. Especially in spring, when all cooler temperatures were thought to have been left behind, the majority of the city had been caught off-guard. Thus, the majority of the city now either spent their days rather cold, or inside. Aislyn didn’t mind it. When there was an adventure at hand, she was interested. After all, any follower of Ionu had to be somewhat curious, at least a little bit.

It had taken her a surprisingly short amount of time to locate the crack in the wall, considering the current state of the city. It was simultaneously suspicious and reassuring that the city approved of her hunt for the cave. After all, it wasn’t unlike Alvadas to unexpectedly thrust its citizens into danger. It was just the life of an Alvad to always be prepared.

The entrance to the cave seemed particularly foreboding at that point in time. Unlike the other tunnels, which were smooth and round, the opening was very… Pointed. Like someone had taken a sword and ripped it down the icy wall with some sort of absurd strength. Aislyn had walked past it before, of course- she had to find out about it somehow- but it seemed so much more empty now that she intended to actually venture inside. Waiting, in a way. Alvadas was very much alive; this was well known. But this seemed particularly alive. Or dead. It wasn’t quite clear.
The crack stood out, but unlike many things that stood out in Alvadas, there was no crowd observing it. In fact, it was avoided like some sort of plague. There was only room enough for one body to move through at a time, resulting in a rather claustrophobic space to maneuver in. As she approached the challenge, a gruff voice called out behind her, accompanied immediately after by a chorus of laughs,

”Another death in a long list! Goodbye, girlie!”
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Aislyn Leavold
Just an illusion.
 
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Ice and Fire

Postby Aislyn Leavold on May 23rd, 2016, 1:10 am

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The chill of the ice sunk into what exposed skin Aislyn had as she dug her nails into the ice. Her head full of swears, she kept her composure neutral as she kept her face opposite the entrance to the cave. She didn’t turn around, instead choosing the cave as a way to escape. She gave the benefit of the doubt; she was illusioned as ‘Maya’, after all, and Maya’s main purpose was to seem insignificant. Maya was meant to blend in with the crowd; to be underestimated. Obviously, someone had fallen victim to said underestimation. Perhaps ‘Maya’ was not the one to join this fight. Maybe Thief.
No, Thief was too brash. And meant for less heroic things.

Soon the suffocatingly small entrance turned into an uncomfortably small tunnel, then a decent walkway. Every step echoed uneasily against the walls, until it seemed like there was more than one set of shoes hitting the icy ground.


Perhaps she would create a new illusion, one meant just for fighting. But what would they look like? If she appeared weak, underestimation could be taken advantage of. But would those she was meant to fight with underestimate her as well?

Several times, Aislyn would turn to glance over her shoulder in an attempt to find whatever was tracking her, only to be met with her muddied reflection in the shiny ice. It was rather unnerving, but she pressed on regardless. But as the space grew more open, the footsteps grew impossibly louder.

To appear strong was dangerous. It made you a target. But to appear weak...

The sound was rhythmic, and imposing. When the illusionist finally decided that the tunnel-turned-cavern was going to continue on until she got to the bottom of the footsteps, she stopped. The footsteps continued. They didn’t even sound like footsteps anymore. They were drums, not only in the cave but in her mind.
That hadn’t taken long.

After a good while in the cave, Aislyn convinced herself there was no one there but illusions, and, slowly, her personal illusions began to slip. By the time she stood to the side in order to wait for the footsteps to pass, ‘Maya’ was all but gone. That was one weight off her chest. One of many. As she paused, the steps didn’t stop. Chimes went by. The woman grew impatient. Perhaps it was her lack of movement that was the problem. Once again, she got up to walk. Nothing changed. She stopped. Her heartbeat matched the pace of the sound.
Ionu save her, she was going to be annoyed to death at this point. If people had never come back from this, it was because they went insane, not because of some horrific monster.

In a way, she was reminded of the unfortunate time she had spent in the House of Broken Mirrors. That was meant to be the place where people never emerged from, as well, but low and behold Aislyn had escaped that, and she would escape this too. Not that she had run off unharmed, but she hadn’t exactly been mauled to death by any reflections. From what she had seen so far with the endless echos, it seemed this cave was a version of the House, except with echos instead of reflections. If she gave it nothing to echo, it could do no harm. For a while, she pressed on, stepping carefully in a way that gave off far less noise than she had before. After a bit, the echos diminished. She was moving slower, but also now unhindered. Aislyn could hear herself think again. And think she did.

There was plenty to ponder; after all, the cave was rather peaceful when one got used to it. If the fact that there was apparently a creature of horrible design at the end of the cave wasn’t hanging over her head, she would have enjoyed it. For a moment, she let her mind wander. Eventually, her hand creeped up to her chest, where her locket lay. She still hadn’t broken the habit of clicking it open and closed, but now that the Eye was most often the necklace on top, it was becoming easier to keep her hands away. After all, the Eye didn’t open, period. There was no latch to click, so no clicking occurred. All well and good, of course, but it was also a reminder that she had yet to figure out how to open the larger of the two lockets, the strange item still a complete mystery to the woman.

Aislyn had, of course, made several attempts at opening it; but after a while, it seemed like it was the kind of mystery that you had to know the question of before you could know the answer. So she had stopped trying to find the answer, and had started searching for the question. But it was not an everyday thing. After many days of sitting alone on a rooftop at sunset in Alvadas, staring at the stubborn thing, she had decided the answer must need to come to her on her own, instead of as a result of her poking and prodding. So she had let it sit. For several seasons.

There was no explanation of the mystery gift. All that had been given to her was a note. She had, by now, committed it to memory. Completely entranced by the thought of what the locket could contain, Aislyn muttered it aloud,

”There is a face for every occasion.”

Suddenly, from her hand came a soft click.
And, just as suddenly, the footsteps disappeared.
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Ice and Fire

Postby Aislyn Leavold on May 23rd, 2016, 1:58 am

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It had opened.
After a full year and then some of trying every trick imaginable, it had opened. All she had to do was say the mantra of the note out loud, and it would open. Gods, how had she been so blind? Of course there had been some kind of clue; Ionu enjoyed a good puzzle but an unsolvable riddle was no riddle at all. She had been certain she had to do something for it to open first. A mission, or a goal of some sort. She had thought the note was instructions for after the thing was opened. Oh, she was such a fool! A simple sentence, that was all it took to unlock the locket.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t all the words unlocked.

As soon as the sound left her lips, the walls absorbed it. Her voice echoed, and in a moment of wide-eyed clarity, Aislyn realized what she had done. In her voice, the words echoed, growing louder and more indistinct until it wasn’t even her voice anymore, and the only word that was repeated was face, face, face, face.
That wasn’t good.
Giving up on trying to be quiet, Aislyn took off running deeper into the space. What she was running from was unclear. The voices, the sounds, the white noise that developed from the now humanoid voices she had given power to. It could have just been footsteps. She could have just had to deal with footsteps. Ionu preserve her soul, a fool! She was a fool!

When she could run no more, the illusionist drew her knife, one hand wrapped around the Eye and the other clutching the blade until her knuckles turned white. She whipped around, practically spinning on her toes in an attempt to see everything at once. She couldn’t be caught off guard. The chants grew louder, until it felt like they were inside her head as well as out. The ice around her began to swirl- or was that just her eyes? Something moving within it.
No, definitely not her eyes. Something was in the ice.
Keeping herself in what she could assume to be the center of the space, Aislyn took care to utter no noise. Anything she said or did could be used against her. As long as she kept quiet, there was nothing to fear.

Within the ice, something writhed and turned, as if trying to free itself. As the illusionist watched with a mix of intrigue and horror, features emerged. Eyes, a mouth, a nose. A face, made entirely of ice. And it wasn’t friendly.
Realizing that she would lose more than just a couple of fingers if she was caught by the creature, Aislyn once again began to run. The cavern reached endlessly on, and the ice creature behind her seemed to know that. It let out a screech that couldn’t have ever possibly been Aislyn’s voice, the words mangled and disordered. As she moved, everything seemed monotone, the same icy whites and blues repeated again and again. The ground wasn’t as slippery as true ice would be, but it still made it difficult to keep a steady pace. As her breaths began to shorten, it became harder to keep her balance.

Eventually, it was impossible. She slipped. Landing on her side, her teeth began to chatter in the cold, despite the coat. She was dead. This was her fault. She was a fool; a stupid, stupid fool. Another death in a long list. What a petching idiot.

Struggling to her feet, Aislyn spotted what could have been a trick of the light, but also could have been an opening in the ice. A wall, with just the smallest crack in its otherwise flawless appearance. Taking her chances, she pushed herself towards it, throwing herself blindly inside just as the creature caught up to her. There was a distinct sound not unlike a frozen lake cracking, echoing the destructive sound of ice breaking along the tunnel. The creature couldn’t quite reach her, its body too mangled and misshapen to fit in the small crack. And it really wasn’t much more than a crack. It was like the entrance to the cave, except it didn’t lead anywhere. It was just a claustrophobic excuse of an escape, fitting herself, her possessions, and nothing more. Icicle-like teeth ground against the entrance, the face never quite deciding on a set of features to keep. She certainly got a good look at it. And she was safe.
For the moment, at least.
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Aislyn Leavold
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Ice and Fire

Postby Aislyn Leavold on May 29th, 2016, 3:50 pm

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Accepting her circumstances, Aislyn decided to take a look at the inside of the locket in her newfound free time. The impossible number of footsteps that the creature outside her hidey-hole produced kept her mind tethered to the danger at hand, but with nothing else to do, she might as well investigate her gift.

Inside the locket was a mirror, which at the moment, appeared foggy and unclear. With her sleeve, the illusioned wiped it off, which, though it didn’t appear to make it any cleaner, certainly did something. A figure appeared. To Aislyn’s surprise, it was the face creature, in a full-body view. As the woman stared, the perspective moved. If she thought about what the head looked like, the mirror would enhance upon the head. If she wished to see the feet, the mirror would do so. Intriguing.

Did it show what it had seen? If so, what else could the locket show her?
As if on cue, faces began sliding by, appearing and disappearing effortlessly. If Aislyn wished to see one for a longer time, it would stop. Face after face, some more familiar than others. Faces from the spring. A three-hundred-sixty degree view of Eleanor, in all her beauty. Then the winter- monsters, bodies that Aislyn doubted were alive. That girl from the Winter War. Phobius, from a few seasons before. He seemed happy. She paused on him, and after a few ticks, the image changed.
Phobius, from last spring. Covered in dust, eyes wide and looking like he was about to be sick. Cringing, Aislyn realized, that Phobius must have been from the day they lost Wanda. Another change. From the winter; he carried a worried expression, but seemed in good shape. One last change. His expression went from anxiety to shock; fear; sadness. Tears streaked his cheeks, and his hair was in a disarray. He was clearly terrified of something.
That was from earlier this season.

Shivering from the cold, Aislyn wished the image away. She had changed the boy an awful lot, hadn’t she? And not in a particularly good way, either. Every time she came near him, she hurt him. Would he have been better off if he had never met her? Had she ever actually helped him?
A hiss and a crack echoed into her crack in the wall. This was not the time to spend self-loathing. What else did the locket contain? Images flittered past. Her illusions, in sentient form. A zith-Sayana, accompanied by the Eypharian in normal state. Nephti, Karin, Naia. Almos, Nythis, Reysin. The images grew more unclear as the images grew older- like a window fogging over when coated with warm breath. The final image, before Aislyn sensed there was nothing else to see, was the fading face of the Silver Serpent. He wore a suit as silver as his name, and his beard glowed a soft blue-green. There was a knowing glint in his eyes, and Aislyn could have sworn the man winked at her before the face faded into oblivion.

One year, it had been. One year, and the images disappeared. She hadn’t even seen Wanda, though… Perhaps that was a good thing. Her image was too old, gone, along with the rest of her. How did that help her? What was she meant to do with this? A face for every occasion. She certainly had plenty of faces, but what did that mean? The note spoke of the people like outfits, like masks to be put on-
Ah. That was it. A face for every occasion. Instead of creating an appearance, she would… Borrow one.

There was another cracking sound emanating from the ice just outside Aislyn’s hiding place. She could see the face create shift, as if to try a new approach at getting in. She didn’t have long. In the mirror, the first figure emerged again. Blurred at first, then painfully clear. The face creature, immortalized in her handy new trinket. A face for every occasion.

Slowly, Aislyn began to weave a new illusion.
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Aislyn Leavold
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Posts: 570
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Ice and Fire

Postby Aislyn Leavold on May 29th, 2016, 8:10 pm

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Creating illusions was, to Aislyn at least, a lot like drawing a picture. You had to have an image in your mind, but a physical reference made everything much better. Faster, more accurate, better quality. The ability to tangibly see what you were creating resulted in a much clearer picture. Then, the first sketch was made. Larger features, such as rough outline and facial features. Then darker lines, to solidify the image. Maya and Thief were much like simple, memorized designs. Aislyn could draw them with her eyes closed, if she tried. But lesser used illusions required more concentration, and more effort. New images were like detailing a masterpiece- they took time. And time was not something Aislyn had.

The locket certainly helped, though ‘helped’ was an understatement. Even if Aislyn had been crafting an illusion with her subject right in front of her, it wouldn’t have gone as smoothly as with the locket. She could manipulate the very perspective that she saw the target with, which was rather handy. In record time, Aislyn had a new illusion. It wasn’t perfect, but hopefully face creatures didn’t inspect things very closely. Outside the crack in the wall, the living ice paced back and forth, occasionally muttering words in various voices. Its movement was slow and labored; it obviously wasn’t an illusion meant to be pretty. But it was dangerous, and Aislyn knew that.

With her heart in her throat, the illusionist waited until the creature faced fully away from her to emerge. Silently, slowly, she moved away. Maybe she didn’t even have to face the creature. Maybe she could just escape unhindered.

”Face… Face… Face…”

Nevermind, then.

When the creature caught her in its sights, Aislyn imitated the thing’s posture. If it was stupid enough, it could believe her to be a reflection in the ice. But then again, it was an illusion, and it wasn’t entirely clear whether illusions had the capacity to be of high or low intelligence. She still held the knife, though the creature couldn’t see that, as the blade was hidden by the illusion of icy claws. She spent an awful lot of time running away from things, didn’t she? Perhaps it was time to face things head on. Stuck in a seemingly endless staring contest with the creature, the confrontation was eventually ended by a huff from the creature, who then turned away in a slump.

Resisting the urge to let out a sigh of relief, Aislyn followed the creature, until she was just barely behind it. The footsteps still echoed, but they were softer now. They appeared to emanate from the crack in the wall where Aislyn had hid, as if pinpointed to directly attack her. The creature paced back past the hole, occasionally scratching at where it believed its prey to be. Behind it, Aislyn followed its steps, until she was sure to be trusted. Now that she was a friend, it paid her no mind. She was an ally. There was no reason for it to harm an ally. There was no reason for an ally to harm it. All that mattered to the ice monster was retrieving the annoying creature that had lodged itself in a place it could not reach.

Eventually deciding to try its luck again at clawing the prey out of the hole, the creature positioned itself so it could personally dismantle whatever was inside, should it just be kind enough to move a bit closer. When the claws struck empty air, an unfocused and rather crystallized eye was pointed in the direction of the crack in the wall. When it found nothing inside, it turned with a hiss.
Aislyn, of course, had been waiting.
There was no reason for it to hurt an ally. But there was a reason for its “ally” to hurt it. Though she was untrained in the weapon, it was easy enough to bring her new blade down straight into the eye of her opponent as it turned, shattering the ice upon impact. The screeching reached an apex, before dissolving into whispers. Then, nothing.
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Ice and Fire

Postby Aislyn Leavold on May 29th, 2016, 8:47 pm

Image
As she stood above her fallen foe, Aislyn felt the distinct feeling of being watched. Even though the only other “living” thing was destroyed, it was obvious she was not alone. The shattered blocks of ice the creature had dissolved into had melted abnormally fast, considering the temperature. In fact, the water almost steamed where it hit the ice, as if it was boiling as it came in contact with the cold. Even after the ice monster dissolved, the echos didn’t appear to cease. For a sweet, silent moment, it was as if Aislyn stepped into a vacuum, where no sound could reach. Then, as if realizing what had happened, the echos returned, soft voices calling out the various words the illusionist had accidentally taught them. They would grow loud enough to reform, eventually. She had a small window of time between one foe and the next to find a way to escape. The only question was how?

Allowing her icy illusion to dissipate, Aislyn moved further along the cavern. The footsteps soon returned, their pace opposite to the rhythm in which the woman’s feet struck the ground. It was jarring at first, but she soon grew used to it in a disturbed, not-entirely-used-to-it way. Kicking at the loose ice that littered the ground, Aislyn looked back to where she had come from. The lighting in the cave was strange; it was not unlike a large hallway, almost like a cave that had rather high ceilings for it to be so meticulously hidden from the rest of the icy city. It was not well lit, but one could easily see what they needed to, though detail was more difficult.

The scariest thing about the space was the echos, if she were honest. The rumors had been right, as she had just seen. Pulling her cloak tighter around her, she began to walk. In no direction in particular. Her footsteps echoed still, but they did not reach the crescendo they had heightened to previously. Once again, she was plunged into an endless cycle of paranoidly looking over her shoulder, just in case more creatures emerged from the ice. Silent. She had to be silent, and she was safe. Casting a glance upward, Aislyn marveled at the magnificent icicles that hung down from the ceiling like rather pointed chandeliers. The voices persisted, though without new ammunition, it seemed there was nothing to form. They were at a stalemate- Aislyn was trapped between the ice, and the echos were trapped within. The only way for the echos to create was for Aislyn to say something, but the only way for Aislyn to be safe was to remain silent.

It seemed a chance would have to be taken.

Returning her knife to its sheath and drawing her crossbow, Aislyn kept her finger on the trigger and backed herself into the center of the space. The rumors were true- anything that echoed along the walls came into existence, which meant, theoretically, Aislyn had the ability to create whatever she wished by verbal command. Taking a deep breath, the illusionist dictated a series of words at a volume just above a normal speaking voice.

”Escape. Exit. Solution. Doorway. Safety. Salvation.”

Then she waited.
The voices disappeared, as if absorbing the new words. Then, of course, after less than a tick of silence, the echos began. Like squabbling children, the echos became a yelling contest of who could say their word the loudest. Solution and Escape quickly became favourites, as the ice molded into different shapes. It was a child playing with a slab of clay, not entirely certain of what they wanted to create. Bright spaces of light battled gusts of freezing air, and Aislyn found herself trapped in the center of an endlessly repeating war of words.

Something began to emerge from the ice across from where Aislyn huddled, a noticeable shape pushing up from the vertical surface. Immediately, the illusionist took aim, her bolt leveled at the easy target. Inhale. Exhale. Pulling the trigger, the arrow flew, and the budding shape exploded into shards of glass-like ice. The echos intensified. Angry voices, paradoxical words matching unlike phrases. Unhappily echoing the happy words. Safety seemed particularly annoyed, and from behind Aislyn another figure emerged. Docking another arrow, she forced herself to breathe steadily as she shattered another living sculpture. This wasn’t working.

”Answer.” Inhale. Shoot. Exhale. ”Departure. Retreat.” She was going to run out of bolts if she continued like this. ”Surrender.”

Moving to where one of her bolts had lodged itself in the ice, she yanked it out, allowing it to be fired again. Repeating this process, Aislyn soon found herself running out of bolts to use. She avoided using the new ones in her quiver, just in case, but was also very rapidly running out of other options. Maneuvering until she was facing the first bolt the woman had fired, Aislyn attempted to pull it out like the others. No luck- she nearly pulled her arm out of its socket. It was no deeper in than any of the others had been, but it refused to move nonetheless. Frantically, she balanced her crossbow in the crook of her arm as she drew her knife in an attempt to dislodge it. She needed every shot she could get.

Peculiarly, the knife slid in easily, as if cutting fabric. Struck with a sudden idea, Aislyn pushed the blade in further, and, with one last look towards the bubbling amalgamates that emerged from the walls behind her, spoke just one more word into the ice.

”Silence.”
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Aislyn Leavold
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Posts: 570
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Ice and Fire

Postby Aislyn Leavold on May 29th, 2016, 10:31 pm

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Like ripping open a curtain, the knife created a crack in the wall not unlike that which she had entered through. Though her blade was much smaller than what the original entrance had appeared to have been dug with, it produced the same effect. Behind her, the effect of her words were clear. The chaos caused by the sudden influx of material to use had turned the icy creations into disorderly, misguided figures. Every sound must echo, but too much sound distorted the words themselves. When suddenly the mix of white noise was combined with the prospect of silence, it seemed a point was reached.
The ice began to melt.
As Aislyn emerged from the other side of her crack in the wall, a steady wall of steam followed her escape. To her great joy, she emerged alone.

When the steam settled, Aislyn found herself in an icy tunnel that looked much more like the streets of Alvadas. It was as if she had materialized in a back alley, except everything was made of ice, as much of the season had been. Voices that created their own words, rather than echos, could be heard from nearby. Voices meant people. People meant eyes.
Suddenly, it occurred to the illusionist that she no longer wore an illusion. Making sure she was invisible to the general public, Aislyn once again imagined what a fighter would look like. Underestimated, but strong. Whispering the words to open the locket again, Aislyn took a look back at what she had seen. A face for every occasion. This was an occasion, alright. Perhaps she would combine features; create something entirely new from many old things.

Gradually, she set to work. Red hair, like Phobius, perhaps. Eyes a warm, trustful colour, like her mother. Even from other illusions, the illusionist took inspiration. The sharpened features of Thief, though with a more rounded edge. Darker skin, like that of Samvrita. She’d have to locate some sort of cosmetics to lessen the amount of concentration it would take to modulate her features so drastically. Then all she’d need was a name.
The name was always the hardest part. A million things went into a name, and it was often a permanent decision. ‘Maya’ had been the name of Aislyn’s imaginary friend as a child. ‘Thief’ was named after her original occupation. Every name had a purpose, and every purpose was unique. A- names were nice. Aislyn, of course, was biased, but they had a nice, comfortable ring to it. And she had always been a fan of names that ended in i.

Alyss, or Anni, or Ali, or something like that. Yes, that had a nice sound to it. Short, as to not complicate matters, but nice enough that it wouldn’t grow old. Closing the locket, Aislyn stood up from her slumped position on the ice wall. It was time to get going. She needed to figure out where to find this Ersal person, and to find out what was in store for her now that she'd completed her task. Perhaps she’d be Ansai. Or something with an E. She’d never had a name with an E before, had she? Emerging from the alleyway with her new face in action, Aislyn squinted at the group of children that ran by. A smaller child, quite obviously falling behind, slipped unceremoniously on the ice, falling into a heap. Brushing blonde strands out of her eyes, she got back up just as another child called back to her.

"Hurry up, hurry up! Anjani, we’re going to be left behind!"

Anjani. What a nice name. Rubbing her hands together to brush off the cold, Aislyn ran a finger over a cut in her palm where the ice had caught her. She’d be Anjani. Anjani, who faced the monster that was trapped in the ice. Who faced living echos. Anjani, who came out alive.
Now the only question was what came next.
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Aislyn Leavold
Just an illusion.
 
Posts: 570
Words: 647829
Joined roleplay: June 8th, 2014, 9:23 pm
Location: Alvadas, City of Illusions
Race: Mixed blood
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2016 Mizahar NaNo Winner (1) 2016 Top NaNo Word Count (1)

Ice and Fire

Postby Yisanareysin on June 27th, 2016, 9:01 am

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The ssssssnake hassss your gradesssss...

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Aislyn

Skills
    ‡ Planning +3
    ‡ Observation +5
    ‡ Philosophy +1
    ‡ Running +1
    ‡ Endurance +1
    ‡ Investigation +2
    ‡ Subterfuge +1
    ‡ Impersonation +1
    ‡ Tactics +2
    ‡ Weapon: Dagger +1
    ‡ Weapon: Crossbow +1
    ‡ Logic +1

Lores
    ‡ Alvads are ever curious
    ‡ Packing light and mobile
    ‡ Ice Cave Entrance: Pointy
    ‡ Choosing just the right illusion
    ‡ Opening the Eye
    ‡ An unsolvable riddle is no riddle at all
    ‡ The Eye: Collects faces
    ‡ Phobius: Changed for the worse?
    ‡ Borrowing faces
    ‡ The Eye: Useful in crafting illusions
    ‡ Illusionism: Ice Monster
    ‡ Tricking an illusion
    ‡ Dagger: Aim for the eye
    ‡ Creating an exit of illusions
    ‡ Finding a strategic spot to shoot
    ‡ Naming an illusion
    ‡ Illusionism: Anjani Disguise


Comments
Congrats on not dying friendo.


Don't forget to delete your post in the grading queue, and if you have any questions or concerns, feel free to PM me about your grade!
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Yisanareysin
Sneaky Snake Spy Extraordinaire
 
Posts: 582
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Joined roleplay: June 8th, 2014, 7:40 am
Location: Alvadas (Hong Kong IRL)
Race: Dhani
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