Confessions of an Outcast - Adelia Allen
-
//note…this will be jumping around a lot, chronologically speaking, and may not seem to make sense at first. It will, though...oh yes, it will
Anyway, all dates given at the beginnings of stories are either before or after her arrival//The birds in the forest canopy are singing in a great cacophony as Adelia regains her conciousness. She isn't exactly clear on what had just transpired, beyond the fact that it hurt. As her vision comes into focus, she is distinctly aware of one thing: She is not alone. Lying flat on her back, she stares directly up at the three figures whose bodies are draped entirely in green-brown robes that are staring wordlessly back down at her.
As they bend down to lift the dark-clad girl off the ground, she makes a sort of grunting noise, and tries in vain to struggle against her captors. One of them, a woman by her shape, squeezes down on one of Adelia's elbows which just happens to be bent the wrong way. Gods, if there is any pain greater in all the realms…
Well, this just proves it. She has to get away from them, but how? If only... She moves her foot around in her boot as best she can, until her toe finds the trigger.
Click.
In a flash, using what little of her strength remains, the small woman kicks furiously at her captors. Satisfaction. Her first kick hits home, as the blade protruding from the sole of her boot penetrates the flesh of one of the robed figures. One is now holding his bloody, stinging side, while the other two are simply dumbstruck. The girl loosens her grip, just as Adelia had wanted. She takes her toe off the trigger in her boot, and makes her break for freedom.
One of them yells something...she can't quite make out what it was. She could swear, though, that she heard some strange rustling sound....
And she falls face first into the forest floor. Looking back towards her vine-wrapped legs, it's all too apparent now who her captors are: Druids. One of them - tall, apparently a rather muscular man - is walking towards her, carrying a large, bulbous club. She closes her eyes tightly, bracing herself for the end of her painfully short life.
The dull thud does not travel far in the forest, drowned out by the songs of the birds and the chattering of the druids.
-
Jurana's words still echoed within poor little Agona as she deposited herself unglamorously in the nearest out-of-the way spot on the busy Saerloon street for a good bit of sulking.
Should this really have surprised her? Probably not. It's not like Jurana and her friends actually cared, anyway. I mean, they're adventurers, they have more important things to do than take care of their families. Seriously. If Jurana won't even come home to try to help her poor, plague-afflicted mother, then what will it take for her to see what's really important? All things considered, it almost seems like they wanted her to die. It makes sense. Always needing money for this and that, it must be terribly frustrating for her to have to provide for her mother, father, and sister on her own like that.
Selfish bitch. She wants to keep all her gold to herself and not have to share it with anyone. That's why she didn't want her to go. Just another person to have to divide the gold from their latest adventure with. Another share, less gold for her grubby little fingers. And after all why not. What would one more share be? Just a drop in the-
"Dear, are you alright?"
Crouched before Agona is a young, fair-skinned woman with dark hair and beautiful, deep brown eyes. Though she's no elf, she looks as if she was born to wear the loose, glittering elven robes that adorn her nigh flawless features.
"Dear?"
"I…I'm fine."
"You certainly don't look it."
The woman smiles.
"I'm Louhi. What's your name?"
"Agona."
"Agona. Pretty girl. What's got you so upset?"
3 Tenday after coming to Narfell
The hobgoblin awoke to find himself in a most unfavorable position. Lashed to a tree someplace that didn't smell all that much like home, his vision came back into focus.
It was dark, that much was obvious. On top of all that, he could tell that he was either totally naked or close to it, and felt some strange, uncomfortable sensation on his chest and stomach.
"So, you're awake."
The beast jerks its head towards the voice. A soft, lilting female one.
"Good."
Adelia slinks forward, and traces her finger along the circle painted in deer blood on the hobgoblin's exposed torso. Her captive doesn't seem to like this, and squeals in protest.
She simply grins.
"I don't particularly like your people, dear. Especially not after what one of them very nearly did to me just the other day."
It's obvious the captive doesn't understand. She continues anyway.
"That said, I have decided to grant one of your kind a rare honor. This would be where you come in."
She smiles at the creature again, then turns to the items she has set out on the rock behind her.
Incense is lit, filling the area with a sickeningly sweet aroma.
She tolls a small bell, which produces a surprisingly deep sound.
Finally, Adelia draws a dagger, and makes the first of many ceremonial cuts in the flesh of the unfortunate creature who, quite intentionally on Adelia's part, is alive for most of them.
For the first time in her life, Agona had found someone she could truly confide in. Louhi listened to everything she said attentively, never judging, always sympathetic. When the invitation to go back to her house was proposed, little Agona was all too willing to accept.
Hand in hand, Louhi brought her to a small, out of the way inn located in one of Saerloon's many dark back alleys. There was no sign saying what the place's name is, simply a small board by the window with the word "Inn" painted on it in ancient, worn pigment.
The inside was like a nightmare. Patrons lay dead on the floor, blood and ale were everywhere, covering food, furniture, and decorations alike.
Oddly, Louhi was unperturbed.
She led Agona around the bar to a trap door which sat open, through which one could hear agonizing screams.
One scream in particular struck her.
Jurana.
-
5 Years before coming to Narfell
"Agona, don't you have anything better to do than follow me? Where we're going isn't all that interesting anyway."
"Then why won't you just tell me?"
"Jurana, c'mon. We don't have time to waste.", urged a gruff male voice hidden behind what seemed to be layer upon layer of armored plates.
To say Jurana eyed the girl with exasperation would be an understatement. She was always doing things like this, the stubborn little brat.
"Go home, Agona. You're not wanted here. Not where we're going."
These words cut so deeply, Agona could barely keep her emotions contained. She simply stood there in shock, completely and utterly flabbergasted by the words her own sister had just said.
Jurana looks down at her for a moment, then leaves. It was a shame it had to come to that. The girl was firey, and more than a little selfish. Often, it took extreme measures to get her to relent, even if it was obviously for her own good.
Ah well. You know what they say about redheads.
And with that, she turns and leaves, and poor little Agona is left behind, alone.
The bright blue light just in front of her eyes gives Adelia the scare of a lifetime as she comes to. Her vision is terribly blurry, though. Good thing, too - if it wasn't, she'd probably need a thorough washing by now. She tries to roll over….nothing. She looks to either side, and finally notices that not only is she horizontal, but is bound and immobilized.
She hears something...no....rather, it's more like she feels something inside her, speaking to her. At first, it's all a muffled, jumbled mix of syllables.
Her vision begins to slowly come back into focus. She can make out some dark spots in the blue, luminous body before her.
Agona.
Her eyes widen.
"Who's there?!"
Agona.
"…Jurana?"
She stares directly up at the light, as it comes fully into focus.
She blinks.
The face of an unimaginably ancient elf blinks back, as it hovers parallel to her, looking her right in the eyes.
Jurana. Tuoni. Enoch. Siril. Aino.
The voice changes…it's deeper, more resonating. The names, too, resonate within her. She narrows her eyes, staring directly at the figure before her.
_You did something to them.
"I'm telling you nothing."
It doesn't matter.
The figure reaches upwards, placing a hand gently on her forehead. The whole world melts away, replaced by scenes from years gone by._
-
3 Tenday after coming to Narfell
It was dark, that night on the Long Road. The perfect time to act.
In the distance, set against the sky, Adelia could barely make out the silhouettes of a trio of hobgoblins patrolling past the road. With a flick of her wrist and a graceful movement of her arm, she sends a small knife flying in their direction. Whether it hits or not, she can't tell - nor does she really care. That they head in her direction is all that is required.
One, probably the leader, barks something at the other two, and they hustle towards the direction of the assault. The assailant quickly moves to the side.
One.
The leader goes down, squealing loudly. This gives his companions pause, though not enough for the stupid creatures to give up their pursuit. If anything, they become angrier.
Two.
Another tumbles into a small, well-concealed spike-filled pit, and is dead on impact. The last one stops, looking around frantically and barking some epithet in whatever savage tongue he speaks. Adelia wraps a cloth around her face, leaving only her eyes exposed, and tiptoes around the final hobgoblin before moving in for the kill.
Three.
The choking powder throws the last one off-guard, as does the rock which makes contact with his skull soon after. For this poor soul, all fades to blackness, as he is dragged off into the night.
-
In the inky blackness beneath the rough hood constructed of some unknown yet uncomfortable fabric, Adelia came to.
Treefrogs. She could hear a few other things, perhaps some of the druids chattering at each other in their strange tongue, but the treefrogs were making it so that any sounds other than their incessant chirping were drowned out completely.
Cold wind stings her body, sending whatever grogginess that still lingered over her conciousness away with its tail between its legs. She arches her back against the tingling sensation, and feels it rub against some sort of rough surface.
So, the druids have taken her gear, down to her clothes…smart.
She twisted against some sort of restraint on her wrists...probably some rough rope, though it felt harder than rope usually does. She stopped, suddenly struck by the fact that her injuries seemed to be healed. Did the druids heal her? She didn't care, at least it didn't hurt any more.
She redoubles her efforts against the ropes, taking no notice of the sound of treefrogs as it slowly dies away along with the sounds of the druids. Roughly, a hand grabs her neck, pressing her back against the tree.
A female voice hisses something in druidic at her. While she's no expert, the meaning is clear enough. She stops struggling. The druids resume their chattering, sans treefrogs, but..with the addition of a sort of hum? She considers this for a moment, considering that she has nothing better to do at this point, and can't really come up with any animals that hum like this.
Footsteps. Someone is coming over.
She's roughly pulled to her feet by a pair of large, meaty hands, and the hood is ripped from her head with no real consideration for her own physical well-being. For the first time, she eyes her captors.
Or tries to, anyway, before the large brute directly in front of her eliminates any possibility of that just now.
He screams something guttural, and she's surprised his breath alone doesn't cause her to wither and die.
Great, a halforc.
"Ever heard of Common?"
"Filthy bitch."
"Right. The hells am I here?"
"You know exactly why.", pipes a female voice. The halforc steps aside, as Adelia stares right at the half drow. "You have violated the sanctity of these woods, bringing your party and your goddess here with you. This forest is holy ground, and you must be made to respect that."
"Um...what?"
"You heard me. We know who you are, and what you've done."
"Pff. You haven't the foggiest."
The half drow grunts, and nods to the orc. Adelia looks to the side just in time to see his fist before it makes contact with her face.
All goes black.
-
3 tenday since coming to Narfell
The hobgoblin standing over Adelia laughs stupidly as he prepares to deliver the deathblow to his prey. Slowly, he raises his arms up above his head as he grips his axe with both hands-
"Run!"
The young girl's wounds close, and she rolls to the side to avoid the blow. The hobgoblin hits anyway, tearing a gash in her shoulder but leaving her alive. Using her momentum from her attempt to dodge the blade, she rolls to her feet, running as fast as her legs can carry her into town. The goblinoid simply watches, completely and utterly bumfuzzled as to what has just occurred.
She reaches town, collapsing by the side of the road just outside the gates as the blood loss finally begins to take its toll.
A foot prods her side.
"Girl, ye alright?" inquires a male voice.
While she is tempted to answer more sarcastically, she simply responds with a resounding "No."
As she's brought in town, a small crowd gathers around the young girl. That's no good. She never liked crowds - too many people. A pale elf comes over towards her and casts some healing spells. Now, that's funny. She'd laugh if there weren't so many people around.
"Please, Adelia. Next time you leave town, be more careful.", implores Nicahh.
"Me? Careful?" Adelia is suddenly reminded of the fact that, if she could change one thing about herself, it would be to stop playing the cute, mischevious rogue every time she needs to get something done.
Nicahh frowns. Alarms go off inside Adelia's head.
"I'm joking. Joking!"
Far too close. Disapproval leads to closer scrutiny, which is exactly the last thing she needs right now. Rather than dig a hole any deeper than she already has, Adelia adopts the safest way out. Excusing herself, she retreats to her room in the sisterhood hall. Locking the door, she sits at her desk and begins to write.
