Isolde Tiernay

[Isolde]

Isolde Physical Description Name: Isolde Tiernay Race: Kelvic Age: 10 (appears 25-30) Height: 5'9" Hair: Blonde; Long and Wavy Eyes: Green Teeth: Canines are slightly longer yet not overtly pronounced or noticeable. Introduction She shifted in the blink of an eye. Painless. Thoughtless. The world now viewed from a different angle still appeared much the same. Hearing sharpened and scents filled her mind with pictures. She could capture the image in her mind's eye of a deer carcass three miles south and the stink of wolves lingered in the air to her left indicating their path east. This sense affected her more than the others, so drastically changed as it was. She moved forward, enjoying the strength in her 800 pound frame as she easily ambled along, thick claws burying deep into the soil with each step. The whisper of a river spoke to her, growing louder with time as she ventured nearer, climaxing to a roar as she drew alongside it. Her eyes peered into its rushing depths, catching sight of the treasure it held swimming frantically against the tide. She also noted the visage of an enormous predator in the water. One whose dark eyes belied an intelligence far beyond that of a mere animal. She swiped at the image of her own reflection, missing the fish that taunted her beneath the surface and distorting the mirrored image of a great blonde grizzly bear in the water. Damn. Her stomach rumbled in protest to her failure. IsoldeBear4.jpg (37.88 KiB) Viewed 104 times Character History A lump gathered in her throat and tears threatened to sting her eyes as she ran. At two she had the appearance of a human child of perhaps 8 or 9 or she had the appearance of large bear cub still stuck in the gangly phase of adolescence. The rags of clothes she wore were soon discarded and she changed as naturally as breathing, her bear form more comforting and safe in the changing terrain. Her lumbering form loped across the land and soon sheltering grass enveloped her, stretching as far as the eye could see. She stopped where she was, panting and exhausted. Dropping down in her place, she couldn't help but allow her eyelids to droop as sleep wrapped its arms around her. Awareness shook her being suddenly and without warning as the strong scent of horse and man assaulted her nostrils. Her head rose in the grass just in time to see the rider approaching, stern-faced and resilient with a spear in tow. Alarm and worry shot through her being and she wailed out as she pushed herself up, lunging to avoid the spears aim. However, she wasn't quick enough and she felt the head of the spear bury itself in her front shoulder. Her deep bellow of pain morphed into an anguished scream as she took on the form of an unclothed young girl, falling to her knees with the spear tip buried in the bone of her shoulder. As blackness darkened the edges of her vision she saw only the man's face, overtaken with alarm and astonishment. Then she sank gratefully into pain free oblivion. She awoke to a dull throb echoing through her upper torso, primarily in her shoulder. Shifting in place a groan left her lips and her eyes slowly cracked open, adjusting to the flickering light of a candle by the bedside. Her mouth felt dry and she couldn't recall where she was. "You're awake," a male voice interjected and she could hear movement to her right. She turned, only to find the man who had speared her in the grass beside her. Instinctively she jerked with a wordless shout though she quickly stilled, wincing against the pain that wracked her being from such a movement. He held his hands up in a placating gesture, alarm and concern overtaking his features. "I'm not going to hurt you." She eyed him warily, but made no further movement. It was plain she wouldn't get far. Instead she studied him, noticing the myriad of marks littering his muscled torso and how they twisted all the way down to the hem of his green pants. All in all he was a plain looking man, neither attractive nor unattractive, yet his hair stood out as it held a fiery red hue. She looked into his brown eyes, studying their depths for a hint to his character. They spoke of a friendly, honest man, currently wracked with guilt. "I'm Fallon," he spoke out, interrupting her thoughts and holding out a hand. She looked at it for a moment, wondering whether or not she should trust this man. Then again, she had little room for any other options. "Isolde," she finally answered decisively, moving her hand cautiously to shake his. Little did she know what a fundamental role that act of acceptance would play in her life. ~5 years later~ Isolde slowly fed Alistair carrots, brushing her free hand over his soft nose as he chomped. He was the only horse who had accepted her company. All the others seemed to be able to sense her other nature. Which only made it that much harder to fit into a society like the Drykas. "I see you're in here fattening up my horse again," a familiar voice chided affectionately. Alistair snorted in an indignant manner yet continued to feast on the orange sticks he was given. An easy smile pulled up the corners of Isolde's lips as Fallon joined her side beside the horse, bumping his shoulder against hers. They were now the same height and roughly the same age in a manner of speaking. "And I see you're in here skirting your responsibilities again," she retorted in the same tone nudging Fallon's shoulder as she fed the last of the carrots to Alistair. "Agh," Fallon retorted, waving his hand dismissively. "I think they can get by without me tanning skins for a time." He turned more fully towards her, leaning against the side of Alistair's stall, a smirk on his lips. She resisted the urge to stare, instead turning to cross her arms in a mockingly disparaging manner. "Tsk, tsk, Fallon," she reprimanded, "What ever will we do with you?" His smirk widened and he replied, "Oh, I could think of a few things." And with that he pushed away from the wall and stepped closer, enveloping her in his embrace as their lips met in passion. He backed her against the side of the stall and she returned everything he was giving in equal measure. These stolen kisses and hidden moments were what she lived for. Breaking contact he trailed a line of kisses down her neck and she squirmed beneath his touch. "Fallon...," she began, looking around, "Fallon, what if someone sees us? What if-," she was cut off by his finger on her lips. "You always worry too much," he answered with a laugh, bending down to place another kiss on her lips. Willingly she succumbed to his relaxed and charming attitude as she always did. Their kiss deepened and she wrapped her arms around his neck. So lost was she in him, she didn't hear the boy's approach. But suddenly an audible gasp made itself known. Malek, one of the stable boys stood bug-eyed with arms full of hay. Silence permeated the air with no one daring to move or speak until Malek dropped the hay and fled the barn. "Malek!" Fallon called out to no avail. Isolde felt panic choking her brain and words escaped her. Fallon let out a sigh pulling her into his arms and squeezing her tight. She knew what would happen. The Ankal, Fallon's father, would find out and he would make sure she was exiled. They had been looking for a proper reason to get rid of her ever since she'd arrived. She clung to Fallon in desperation. He had been her sole companion in life. The only one who didn't look down on her. And now she would lose him. "Don't worry," he spoke reassuringly, "I'll fix this." He placed a light kiss on her lips and then departed, head high and shoulders straight seeming like a man on a mission. Her chest was tight as they parted ways, worries weighing heavily. Isolde walked from the stables alone, ignoring the occasional passerby as they normally ignored her. She would have to leave. The Ankal would never approve of her or welcome her as full Drykas and so a union with his son would be unacceptable. He had made it clear that he didn't approve of her and her 'tainted blood' as he had so generously put it. If she stayed it would be at the risk of Fallon becoming exiled as well and that was the last thing she wanted. She quickly made her way to her private tent, gathering her meager possessions into a pack along with a bit of rations. She turned to leave but paused at the tent flap thinking of Fallon. A small tear rolled down her cheek and she reached up to unclasp the necklace pendant Fallon had given her several years ago. It held the stone of an emerald. He'd given it to her to make her feel more like one of the clan. She set it gently on the wooden table and then exited, tears flowing more freely as she made her escape from the camp. It was dusk before she lost sight of the village and she stopped, stripping off her clothes and placing them in her bag before morphing into the comfort of her bear. Her blonde fur blended easily in the tall grass and she turned to look back, her eyes seeing nothing, yet her nose catching faint scents of the camp. She resisted the urge to let out a roar of anguish, instead turning to grasp the pack firmly between her teeth and making her way north towards the Suvan Sea. She was left unbothered through the night and she stopped to rest as daybreak hit, sinking into the familiar blonde hue of the grass around her. Her sleep was full of torment, dreams of Fallon and the grasslands weaving their way into her subconscious. She awakened suddenly in the dusk of the day, finding herself thrust 5 years into the past as a scene replayed itself before her. Fallon sat atop Alistair, his gaze hard and determined. Yet he held no spear and Alistair was drenched in a sheen of sweat. She moved to her feet, watching him as both rider and mount breathed heavily. She shifted in front of him, unashamed of the nudity that followed, so that they may speak. Yet only silence ensued as Fallon dismounted and began to unsaddle Alistair, wiping and brushing him down. Isolde felt as though she would burst with what her mind wanted to say but held her tongue in check. She turned to her pack and retrieved her clothes, then sat in place, watching as Fallon took care of Alistair's own needs before his own. Though anger seemed to permeate the air with his presence, Fallon's touch was as soft and gentle as any as he worked. It was one of the things she admired in him. Finally, when all had been done he released Alistair to graze and turned to her, his posture and gaze now unreadable. "Fallon, I-," she began, but was cut off by a wave of his hand. She folded her hands in her lap, sitting mute as he slowly neared closer. He came to a stop directly in front of her and she stared at his shoes until he knelt down on her level. A forefinger touched the underside of her chin, tilting her gaze up until she looked into the sad brown eyes that belonged to her sole friend in this life. "Isolde," he began, his voiced laced with the depth of his emotion, "Do you not value my company as highly as I do yours?" A pain lanced her to the core. She did hate to cause him pain of any sort. But he needed to understand that their separation was inevitable. "Fallon, you know I care for you. More than I've cared for any other," the next part was painful for her to even think of telling him but she uttered it nonetheless. "You know what I am. And you know that we haven't bonded. I feel a drive to seek out others. To fulfill my destiny. I cannot in good conscious continue what we have when I know it will be interrupted by another." By the gods she wished she had bonded with him. It was all she had ever wanted, but no matter how hard she tried she always felt a pull away from him. A need to find that other. "Is my love not enough?" he replied, a steely determination in his eyes. She could see the pain in him as surely as if she had pushed a knife into his stomach. "Could I say yes then I would. But it is a dangerous thing to tamper with fate. And perhaps take a wonder on the conclusions to my acceptance? Where would we go from there?" she questioned him. "Then I would make you my wife. And together we would raise our children to be great hunters of the plains, bearing many wind marks," he answered, as though it were as simple as that. And the tone in his voice almost made it easier to believe. Almost. Perhaps even he himself believed it. She shook her head. "You're father would not allow it. And we couldn't raise a family outside of the clan. It would be suicide." She took a deep steadying breath and rose to her feet her mind resolute. She turned to pick up her pack and in an instant she felt him rise moments before his hands settled on her shoulders. Her eyes closed in pain pushing back tears that blurred her vision. "Just give me one more night," he pleaded. "One more night to say goodbye. One more memory to hold onto you by." She turned in his arms where his close proximity and sorrowful eyes had her resistance crumbling. Wordlessly she answered him with a kiss. Yes, they would have one more night together. ~Later that night~ She turned in his arms, looking up to gaze at the stars. He too turned to watch her silently as she lost herself in the infinite wonders of the darkened sky. "You have given me something solid to remember you by," he remarked, pulling forth the emerald pendant she had left behind. "Would you do me the honor of accepting a gift of my own?" She tilted her head to look at him quizzically. He rose from her side, moving over to pull out a tattooing kit from his bag. She sat up as he came back over to her, an excitement dwelling in the pit of her stomach. Everyone in the clan received tattoos. It was a mark of acceptance. To bear a wind mark was to officially be Dryka. He settled it in front of her, opening the box to reveal strange ink bottles. Ones she had never before seen. "This ink is special," he began, rolling out the linen that held the tattooing needles. "I want to give you your own mark. You deserve more than a wind mark. Do you accept this?" he asked. It was the same question asked of all Drykas before they received their marks. She nodded and replied, "I do." And with that he marked her with their goodbye. Possessions 1 Set of Clothing -Simple Shirt -Simple Pants -Simple Undergarments -Simple Cloak -Simple Boots 1 Waterskin 1 Backpack which contains: -Comb (Skyglass) -Brush (Skyglass) -Soap -Razor -Balanced Rations (1 Week’s Worth) -1 eating knife -Flint & Steel Heirloom: A tattoo the size of her palm adorns itself on her skin. It is a mirror image of her alternate form of a bear. But this is no ordinary tattoo. It was given to her a few years back from a lover who was quite skilled. He infused it with magic ink, giving it the illusion of life. At times it roams around her skin, silent and harmless, but for the most part it retains its place on the curve of her hip, slumbering. It is a great comfort to her and she treasures it more highly than anything else. Partially for the image of her other self but mostly for the man who gave it. A man she wished she could have formed a bond with. Housing: Isolde walked the streets on two legs, seeming as human as those who surrounded her. Bright smiles and warm greetings had been thrown at her more times here than she could recall in her entire life. The city of Lhavit was indeed kinder than she was used to. However, she still felt a certain reluctance to impart the knowledge to these people of her true self. The fact that she was Kelvic had never done her any favors in life and if she chose to live in the city it would be a much harder secret to keep. She debated leaving this place altogether and traveling elsewhere. Yet, the luminescence and beauty the city exuded seemed to help fill the hole in her life that she found came with the lack of a bondmate. Trailing out of the heart of Lhavit she traveled a little ways until she found a small uninhabited cave. Shifting, she used her larger form to clear out the cave and dig it out wider until she had an open space of about 400 square feet around her. The job had taken her all day but now that it was done she resolved that she would make this place her home. And with that she lay down her massive bulk and slept. Since then she has lightly furnished the interior of the cave and made it more suitable as a home. Ledger Purchase Cost Total Starting +100 Kina 100 Kina ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Common Skills: Skill EXP Total Proficiency Hunting 10 SP 100 Novice Wilderness Survival 20 SP 100 Novice Conceal 8 SP 100 Novice Brawling 12 SP 100 Novice ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Practiced Languages: Common Fluent Language: Common Basic Language: Pavi Poor Language: Isur Lores: Lore of Drykas Culture Lore of Religion: Zintila