What glimmers of sunshine filtered in through those cracks and crevices of the forested land marked the canopy of green stretching lustrously overhead, divergent and vast in the span from which emerald green foliage grew outwards from what gnarled branches sported such overbearing flora. And from below, where the forest floor met along the ground, a thousand fold blades of grass swayed gently in the passing of the wind, knobbly roots clenched tight to the ground as what coarse trunks stood stalwart and tall, marking their place with what shadows fell beneath their stoic forms. It was here, betwixt by either side of the forest proper there lay a beaten path, worn from the foot-falls of many a traveler that had ventured through the lands from either side, having born witness to the living splendor that was the Irvyn forest at Glarevyn.
There emerged from the recesses of the tree line a single soul that had taken to the roads, a very prominent spring to his step as he'd strut along the dirt path, a renewed sense of staunch and vigor evident as he'd shown his place on the face of the world around him. Eyes centered forwards against the bridge of his nose, he'd look ahead through the veiled copse of trees, taking in the sights and sounds at a passing glance, the familiar sounds of birds overhead distinct against the faint rustling of the leaves in the gale of a wind just audibly noticeable to him. One could see and hear in the light of day that the wilds were very much alive in the vibrancy of what flora grew thick here, and while largely unseen, creatures of the wild were very much in residence throughout the folds and thickets that comprised the woodlands here.
Glarevyn as a province was among those lands that were supposedly “unclaimed” by the more powerful of Lords and Rulers across Ascarend, left to its lonesome as but a small collection of wayward farmsteads, mills, and villages dispersed throughout the countryside. A largely peaceful and gently touched realm to behold, it was here that even in the living splendor of a place as free and open as this, danger lurked both far and near in the shadows. Wild beasts and brigands were but a few caveats for any wayfarer to contend with, not to mention those fell creatures lurking in the shadows in the day and night. Worse still were the whispered murmurs of orcs and their ilk being spotted up and down the river from the further reaches of Lerago and parts unknown, presenting a constant source of consternation for what human peasantry had chosen to reside in these lands without the watchful eye of a patron Lord or King to protect them.
In spite of this, it also had shown itself to be a place of the most natural beauty and indicative of the touch of a certain freedom about these parts. There was no mark of a territorial power to cut the land to pieces under different banners, nor were there the overbearing walls surrounding a city proper, let alone a township under the stalwart form of a Keep or Fortress marring the landscape. What fae creatures resided in the forests could be seen just out of the corner of ones sight, their ethereal presence both awesome and frightening to what layman happened through here. Their choice residence saw to them what natural neighbors in what fauna chose to call this place home, whether by the lowly hare to the great and imposing bear. Strangely enough, while there were a great deal of myths and legends drawn from what superstitious locales spoke of on what had come and gone as to anothers passing; the elves as of the present day very much not in residence here. Said to have lived here due to the very surreal qualities evident throughout the land, it was curious why they did not live here, as there was talk of ruins deep in the forests in the most clandestine of locations. Whether of the proud and noble high elf or the so-called low borne wood-elf, both were very much absent from such a place as this, purportedly driven away in the days long past to conflicts that saw to greener pastures elsewhere.
In the here and now, the adventurer wandering along was the only one to venture through in remaining to the well traveled road. Eyes shown in the color of emerald green against a fur coat cast in ashen gray, jet black hair filtered down from the width of his head in thick dark strands that glistened in the midday sun. Face protruding outwards to taper off into a muzzle, it was readily joined by the width ending in strands of fluffy white fur, the center of his face tipped with a thick black nose. What ash gray color schema of his coat was offset only by what highlights of fur in white there were at his paws, face, neck, chest, and the tip of his tail. Most blatant at even a wayward glance was the fact that while seemingly of mortal blood, he was a creature that was not altogether human, and yet sentient all the same. Of relatively average height and build, he had shown himself athletic in form and figure, a perfect pairing of strength matched with agility.
His choice in wear and apparel was that of an aged and flowing great-coat in the color of navy blue, long since shown to be worn and fraying, the sleeves long since ripped at the upper most reaches of ones arms, tears exposing what cobbled wraps and bandages appeared to cling tight just underneath. With the baggiest of britches that came tight about the ankles and loose about the waistline, a simple navy blue cloth belt lay fastened tight about the middle. No shirt did he wear, soft and fluffy fur flowing outwards, though at his forearms were the cobbled crafts of gauntlets cast in steel and leather, clasped tight to his forearms and wrists like any glove. Adorning his forehead in keeping his hair in line was a blue head band, the likes of which left twin strands to dance to a passing wind. At his chest was a simple jade green idol cast in the shape of a turtle, his ankles wrapped taught with what cloth wraps and bandages were present elsewhere to form anklets. His feet were left bear without anything in the way of embellishments, natural borne soles treading through along the stricken path.
The light and gentle foot falls of his most buoyant steps came in rapid succession as he ventured forth rather briskly, a gentle turn of his head leftwards as something appeared to be amiss. The rancorous cacophony of birds drew notice as the cawing of crows offset the tender balance in tranquility, head darting back to the path ahead. Ears flickering atop his head as he'd instinctively slid back, left paw coming to rest upon the pommel of a protruding swords handle, the scabbard hidden beyond the folds of his choice coat. He heard them long before he saw them, unwilling to turn tail and take flight through the open forest, waiting patiently as they appeared before him. There were two of them in all, the likes by which appeared less than desirable, even in a world as brutal and uncertain as this one could be at times. Their hacked and roughly hewn manner of wear, matched with their quickness to take to what weapons held in open hand, brandished and displayed in what swords and axes they held. Their faces were strangely veiled by means of what hoods and shawls had been wrapped prior, all to be exposed of their faces being their eyes.
As the sounds of foliage shifting from behind could be heard, the wayfarer took a glance over shoulder to find others closing the gap behind him along the forest path, standing still and stalwart, presumably to prevent his escape. Two and two meant four, and it would appear they picked him out in particular, but whether for easy gain or for a particular purpose, the wanderer from afar couldn't be certain. Not a word was spoken, however, as the pair the vulpine looked to stared back with placeless condemnation. It was only at the first step that signaled the others approach that the vulpine began to act, right arm whipping downwards to the left to make a diagonal thrust in presenting his choice weapon against the air. The shrill ring of metal against metal cried through the air, joined in that instant by the flash of light shining true against the glimmer of sun light, just as the day glow of effervescent rays met the silvery surface of steel and bronze.
Both paws readily clasped the turtle-skin and silken weave embellishments covering surface of the handle, squeezing tight as his body hunched forth, the vulpine beginning to take a fighting stance. His eyes had long since narrowed with a look of cold resolve in staring down to his would-be attackers, a huff drawing from his lips as heavy foot-falls squared away against the open ground. He'd stand his ground and fight in his own defense, rather than take to the cowards path in running off into the forest. If not him, then who else might fall prey to such vermin as these, even if he were to leave them behind..? As they began to close in with their weapons raised and at the ready, steadfastly approaching with weighted steps, the vulpine steadily raised his in kind to meet them..
Commentary: Kayashi Ikeda, otherwise known under his Ascarendized alias as John Nightslash, is perhaps one of my oldest and among my most well-liked of characters for the longest time now. An idealistic young kitsune with a great sense of moral bearing and an over-abundance of hopeful optimism, his origins as a child had shown him to be a thief and trickster until gradually following in the path of his older brother in taking the role of a hero far more seriously. Being far more balanced in all walks of life, Kayashi had shown himself to be a very prominent adventurer, treasure hunter, and hero when the occasion arose.
He's still shown himself to be somewhat quirky and playful in his approach to life, tempered by a sense of pragmatism and prudence about his person. And as a kitsune, he's well versed in a retinue of latent supernatural abilities learned over the course of his lifetime, including but not limited to illusory magics, pyrokinetic manipulation, transformations of his form at will, and more. Regardless, the blade has proven to be an invaluable tool in his fight against the unjust, corrupt, and villainous sorts throughout the land, and a focus of discipline in what training had followed him from childhood to adulthood. It's too bad I've only nowfinally gotten around to illustrating a digital character picture depicting him. I plan on showing him off more as far as the artistic works go in the near (and, more likely, far) future, though.
3 years, 12 months ago
19 Aug 2014 04:50 CEST
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