Defender

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Emotionaloverload
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Defender

Post by Emotionaloverload » Thu Oct 12, 2017 3:23 am

[I have been a butt lately since I haven't been able to login reliably. So to counteract my lack of storytelling, I decided to pen one of Birdie's old background scenes just to stay sane.]

This is your charge. You hold your ground. You defend, you deflect. You stand tall. You are the shield, the wall. Your will is your greatest weapon and your body is your sharpest tool. This is your charge. Stay vigilant and guard your people, your land. If you falter, they will fall. There is no do over. No second thoughts. You are the front line and you MUST hold the line.

This is your charge!


The warning bells rang out through the valley. In mere moments, all the hin were on their feet; civilians rushed toward the tunnels and Arvoreen's Defenders ran toward the farms. All but the rookies; their task was to oversee the evacuation.

A rookie raced up the stairs of the shrine with her carrot coloured ponytail wagging with every step. Her features didn't yet wear the severity common to Arvoreenites although no one could safely say she was ever friendly. This was Birgitta 'Birdie' Swordhill.

She raised her shield as she exited into the early morning light, just in case. There was no real need. The fighting was happening at the edge of the farms for now. Once she was satisfied that the coast was clear, Birdie turned to the hins lurking on the stairs and waved them on.

The group briskly made their way toward the nearest secret entrance hidden behind a garden display. Birdie waved one after the other into the passage before covering their tracks and heading back for more.

She searched for strays; for any hin that might have broken from their group in fear and stowed away thinking they would be safe. The fear of battle or pain or death was never an issue for her. She didn't relish in combat or flee from it. It was just familiar, like breakfast.

The din of battle suddenly drew nearer. Someone's line was broken. A good rookie would count their task finished and fall back with the others. Birdie was not a good rookie. She turned her gaze to the sound of charging orcs. In the distance, a ray of sunshine got caught in locks of golden hair.

She danced like the breeze was her partner. Her locks always looked like sunshine was hiding there. Even at night, the moon seemed to follow her as if to always keep her in the best light. She had a smile that made you feel like you were the only person in the room and a face that faeries were jealous of. Her name was Abigail.

She smiled at Birdie, “Dance with me! I just want to dance this beautiful night away!~” She laughed. Her eyes were bright with light and love; always pure, always genuine.


The ability to follow orders isn't praised among Avoreenites, its a requirement, a /need/. Every Arvoreenite follows the orders of their God and gods first, superior second and gut third. Never their heart.

The orcs were tearing across the field toward a lost group; Abigail's group. Their rookie looked frazzled, turned around and, worst of all, scared. The roars of frenzied orcs caused them to scatter, adding to the confusion. Birdie charged, ready to launch into the fray. Even if she distracted one long enough, it would be worth it.

“Run! Hide!” She called out to the hins.

“Are you hiding from me?” Abigail peered at her like a curious bird. Even a cool stare from Birdie managed to prompt a smile.

“I'm working...”

“Liar.” Abigail teased; her eyes brightening with mischief before she stole a kiss from Birdie's cheek.


The orcs chased after the nearest hins and those that didn't took to lighting the field ablaze. Never has crossing a distance in full plate felt longer to the young Arvoreenite. She meant to run straight into the orcs. Maybe catch them by surprise but she didn't. Abigail drew her attention and her stride.

Birdie barreled between Abigail and incoming bolts, with a raised shield. She glanced back to check on her charge.

Abigail scooted closer to snuggle up against Birdie on the bench by the bonfire. “Tweet tweet.” She teased, booping Birdie's nose with her index finger.

A healer needs nerves of steel to stay near danger. For many, it takes a long time to acquire. Abigail was adorned in green robes and equipped for flowers and smiles, not warfare. The sound of the bolts connecting was enough to spook her; the sound of close danger. Too close.

By the time Birdie glanced back, her charge was fleeing. The nerve racking thwack of bolts leaving their crossbows sung out. Birdie ran after Abigail with her shield up, blocking more of the assault but it was from all sides now.

Birdie caught two bolts to the torso and one soared through the defense, striking the healer. Abigail cried out in shock; the sound enough to churn even a steel stomach. Birdie met the ground suddenly like it was an old friend's hug.

The voices of Defenders called out commands as they descended on the orcs. Their absence felt like hours rather than minutes. Birdie had no strength to rise; one of the bolts hit a lung, the other a shoulder.

She tried to reach out to the healer. Abigail was struck square in the chest. The front of her robe slowly turned red and her eyes started to dim.

“I can't sleep.” Birdie huffed out the phrase, standing on guard at the lookout.

“Its not sleeping.” Abigail muttered as she spread out the blanket. “Its star gazing! Come on. Just for a little bit.”


Birdie awoke in a cold sweat. The smell of booze hung in the air. She looked beside her to see her husband passed out, still in his day clothes, atop the blankets. She was, briefly, surprised he wasn't in his girlfriend's bed.

He has been drinking again. Empty bottles line his bedside table. Who can blame him? Really, who can blame him? Even if someone did, it would only make him crawl into a bottle deeper; thankfully always away from public view. She rose from bed quietly so not to wake him. Although, that was an impossibility in his state.

She shrugged off the pain in her 'bad' arm. This is why sleep is a waste of time, you can never prepare for it. You can never ensure its success. At least with food, you can eat your meals at your desk while doing paperwork.

It was back to work. Again.
Last edited by Emotionaloverload on Thu Nov 09, 2017 9:37 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Formerly; Echo Hemlocke-Ralkai, Joshua Colt, Namil Evanara, Elanor Shortwick, Sawyer Brook, Kaylessa Dree, Sines Oliver Selakiir, Birgitta Birdie Swordhill, Bella Weartherbee, Arael Laceflower, Corbin, Rupert Silveroak, Hadi the Slave and others.

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Re: Defender

Post by Emotionaloverload » Fri Oct 13, 2017 3:53 pm

Birdie fell against the tree, panting rasping breaths. The blood on her hands caused her grip on the bark to slide. She could hear the Tallkin writhing, whimpering, and testing his bonds. The morning light snaked through the canopy of leaves in the forest. Had she really been at it all night? It felt like moments.

She looked back at him; a drunk. He was bloody and bruised. Everything looking sickening in the daylight, in the open. The disgust started to rise in her stomach, the shame. Even the fear from his eyes, that moments ago brought ecstasy, caused her to recoil. Her change in attitude didn't go unnoticed. The drunk kicked against the ground, crushing leaves, as he attempted to flee.

A young hin spun around catching the falling autumn leaves. He smiled back at Birdie. He had soft features. Everything about him was soft; his build, his smile, his heart. He had the true look of a child; his eyes filled with awe and adventure.

“Come on!” He called, rushing to catch falling leaves in the distance. Birdie watched him; she loved to watch him. His name was Liam. Their mothers were good friends and so the kids always found themselves together. Although, that wasn't the only reason anymore.

Birdie wanted to share with him. She just wanted to share.


They all start with a look of determination when they get passed the shock of waking tied up in the middle of nowhere. Drunks were easy prey; Birdie just had to wait til the end of the night to get her pick of the garbage that fell out of the taverns.

The determination quickly falls to contempt or bargaining; that was the hardest phase to push through. The more they kept it up, the harder she tried. It was all for the payoff. It was all for that look of terror, that shrinking back, that scream of utter despair.

A shudder of delight overcame her at the thought of sharing. Birdie rushed after Liam and pushed him. He fell forward with a surprised huff. Her hands tingled and her body felt light as if she were about to take flight.

He looked back at her with confusion. She'd never shared before. She didn't know how. What came first? What now? Liam frowned, dusting himself off as he rose. Without thinking, she marched toward him, backing the smaller child against the nearest tree.


Birdie let him run. She stood in the clearing watching him for as long as the trees would allow. It was time to get cleaned up and return to camp before others would realize she broke curfew. The walk back is never easy.

Days before the hunt even starts, her thoughts become consumed with the next prey. Sometimes she could go months without the urge, the /need/. When it starts, there is no denying it, no overcoming it. Before she can even realize, she is watching her mark; her bag is filled with all the right tools. There was as much delight in the planning as there was in the execution.

But every time the delight got shorter; the preparation became more trying. The things that worked before didn't work anymore. It was an endless struggle. Even the smallest change could ruin everything.

Liam looked at her with trust. And why not? They were friends. Friends share~

Her mind fogged with possibility and the urge to share. Surely, he would delight in it too. Surely, he would understand. They were friends...

Birdie suddenly drew a sharpened rock from her pocket and swiped at Liam, striking his cheek; /cutting/ his cheek. He gasps; that sweet, perfect sound of shock, fear and pain. His eyes grew wide. She smiled at him, her friend.

He ran.


Birdie snuck into the female designated barracks but not to get into bed. Rather she changed into her uniform and headed out the front door to be the first to drills like every morning. She opened the door only to be greeted by her superior; Defender Goodbody.

“Sir.” She offered a curt nod.

“I was just coming to check on you. You seemed a little off lately.” There were no smiles to be exchanged. Even for a moment like this or moments like this at camp, everyone always appeared as though they were at a funeral.

“Appreciated, sir. I'm fine.” Birdie went to descend down the steps, shutting the door behind her. Goodbody grabbed her arm, looking her straight in the eye. His gaze was stern now, suspicious of the change in her.

“You can talk to me...” He muttered.

“You never talk to me!” Alex yelled; whining again. He did that a lot lately and why not? He was promised a loving wife. She was promised a strong, reliable partner. No one got what they wanted. It was a trick. Elders are always tricky.

“We've talked.” Birdie countered.

“That was work! You talk like that to everyone. I'm not everyone! Just share something with me, dammit.” Alex marched up to her. That was always his mistake. He felt more important than her work. He felt like when an argument started, he might win.

Birdie never liked being challenged. He went down hard. The look of shock and fear on his face alone was worth it.
Formerly; Echo Hemlocke-Ralkai, Joshua Colt, Namil Evanara, Elanor Shortwick, Sawyer Brook, Kaylessa Dree, Sines Oliver Selakiir, Birgitta Birdie Swordhill, Bella Weartherbee, Arael Laceflower, Corbin, Rupert Silveroak, Hadi the Slave and others.

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Re: Defender

Post by Emotionaloverload » Thu Nov 09, 2017 9:41 pm

The Camp's Orientation is the single most important day of a fledgling Arvoreenite's carreer. Orientation consisted of several groups and within each group a leader is chosen. It was a tremendous show of faith in the fledgling to be picked as leader. The groups were led into the forest blindfolded before the leader was announced and a vague map, by which to return, delivered.

“Blindfolds off.” Goodbody muttered.

The group consisted of five young hin; one female and four males. Birdie stuffed the blindfold in her pocket, setting her eyes on the Defender for the announcement.

“Heathertoe, you're up.” Goodbody extended the folded map to the tallest of the boys; Morro.

Birdie's frame stiffened. She had worked hard, studied hard and done everything right. He should have picked her, she thought. She knew that with Morro as lead they would never get back to camp before sundown. Any group that failed to return in time was punished but the group that returned first would have the opportunity to pick their mentors. The stakes were high.

Birdie writhed on the floor; a bloody mess.

“Get up!” the older hin hissed with anger. His once black hair was tinted with greys; his face locked in a perpetually tired and angry expression. His name was Samual Bolger; retired Defender.

She struggled to peer around the dim room with her swollen eyes. All the windows were boarded and there was no one for miles. No help would come here.


“Agh. Let me help.” Birdie puffed a breath out in frustration. “Just give me the map. You're reading it wrong.” She tried to reach for it, again, but Morro tugged it away.

“No.” He snapped. “I'm the leader! That means you have to do as I say.” Birdie fumed at his words. He could see it. The more she tried to take over, the harder he fought back. By now, the smell of the marshes was growing in the air. The group was way off track.

“I'm not taking orders from a bad leader! One who is taking us the wrong way~” She fired back.

“If I am, its only because you keep messing us up with your constant...constant insubordination!” Morro pointed at her in defiance. That was the final straw. Without a moments thought, Birdie clenched her fist and punched him in the face.

His head rocked back in a way she had never seen before and he fell; out cold. The other hin rushed to his side; shook him, called to him. Surely he was dead, she thought. Before they could look up at her, she was gone.

“Halt.” Goodbody called. Birdie came to a sudden stop; utterly obedient. Her pose rigid and her face a joyless sternness now. He jogged a few feet to catch up. She kept her eyes ahead but it didn't matter. As soon as he came around he noticed bruises on her knuckles, her jaw, her neck – all making some effort to be concealed in the standard uniform.

He frowned “What happened?”

“I fell.” She lied; her voice low, calm and cold. His frown only deepened. Goodbody opened his mouth but before he could speak Bolger's voice rang out “Rookie!? Why aren't you here yet?!”

Birdie turned to look at Goodbody. He looked at her. For a moment, all the information needed was exchanged but not a word spoken. She hurried after the voice.


Birdie ran through the forest in a panic. She planned to live out her new life as an outlaw in the marshes. There was no greater crime that killing a kin. There was no going back.

She came to a stop at the edge of the marshes, panting heavily. The sun was starting to set. Even if the group was still together there was no way to return in time. In the distance, storm clouds started to gather. Even a novice outdoorsmen could tell you that being in the marshes in a storm was a death sentence.

Birdie's eyes filled with doubt; live as an outlaw in the dangerous marshes where the ground was about to turn into quicksand or turn back and be branded a kinslayer. Which was worse? Which was survivable?

A heavy hand clasped down on her shoulder causing her to jerk in surprise. She looked back at three of Arvoreen's Rangers. They had come for her. They knew what she did.

“I know what you did, you filthy goblin!” Bolger yelled, his voice dripping with disgust. He threw her bag of 'tools' at her. “I saw you!”

Birdie's features paled, watching him wide eyed. “I can explain...”

“Explain?! No, there will be no more lies from you. You...you sick monster! You'll never be a defender. I'll see to that~” He cried out, drawing his sword. His other hand outstretched, calling forth the divine. A bright glowing light started to gather around Birdie. She tried to step back, step away but she wasn't fast enough.

With a sudden deafening sound, the light tried to rip her apart, taking her arm with the shoulder. The pain was otherworldly and blinding. The weight of the pain brought her to the ground. She could hear a commotion; sudden chaos.

Then Goodbody grabbed her. “Hey, kiddo, look at me. You're gonna be alright.” His words slowly started to sound like one long buzzing sound. “Give me that!” He called to the others. “She's cold.


“You know what they say about you? They say you're cold and unfeeling.” He was trying to hurt her today and, as always, he was succeeding. “You know what? You are cold! How am I supposed to live like this!?” Alex stormed out, angry.

Birdie waited for the door to shut before returning to her paperwork.
Formerly; Echo Hemlocke-Ralkai, Joshua Colt, Namil Evanara, Elanor Shortwick, Sawyer Brook, Kaylessa Dree, Sines Oliver Selakiir, Birgitta Birdie Swordhill, Bella Weartherbee, Arael Laceflower, Corbin, Rupert Silveroak, Hadi the Slave and others.

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Re: Defender

Post by Emotionaloverload » Sun Jan 14, 2018 7:59 pm

((Okay, I appreciate the requests but this is the last one! Its hard for me to get back into writing for her. She's dead! I'm sorry but she's dead!))

The Safeday Celebration was in full swing. The rookies danced around the mess hall; laughter was in the air and even some of the Defenders were drinking.

Birdie stood against the wall, watching them. Morro caught her eye; now grown into a handsome hin, he was ever the center of attention. She bore holes into him with a stern glare.

Her brooding was interrupted as Goodbody took the spot beside her. “You should join them” he offered in a soft voice.

“What for?” She shot back.

“Its important for a leader to be personable.”

“No, its only important that they be reliable. /Nothing/ more.” Birdie's words were glazed with venom. She rubbed her new arm from agitation; it felt like it was made from lead. “Its like new” they all said but it felt borrowed, uncanny. Unreal.

“This is unreal. Do you want me to talk to him?” Red peered over at Birdie. The pair stood against the wall, watching the rest of Bendir enjoy the Safeday. Alex was, as always, surrounded by women.

“I'm well aware of his doings. Don't pay it any mind.” She side glanced at Red. He frowned.

Alex was the soft sort. He yearned for attention, for praise, for love. He went looking for it everywhere he could find it. A young hin girl approached Birdie and smiled.

“Is Alex your brother?” She said in that annoyingly peppy voice.

“He is my husband.” Birdie was waiting all day for this; the squirming. Nothing happened in the Fort without her knowing. NOTHING.

The hin recoiled, features palling. “W-wh...I'm so sorry. Nothing happened. I swear.” Her voice grew louder in panic and she turned to look at Alex. Birdie's eyes slowly shifted to the promiscuous reveler; ice cold and waiting.

He shuffled over like a nervous dog; whispered his corrections, his apologies. Birdie stared~ at him, watching them both squirm til they finally dispensed.

His doings never bothered her. His appeal was non-existent like a goblin or a half orc. The only thing that bothered her was his choice in women; the ditzy, the flippant, the useless. Pathetic, she thought. She envied the Queen of Brogendenstein with her reliable partner.


Ghestaldt greeted Birdie with a curt nod, a short phrase. She did the same. The group around them spoke for a few moments; nothing more than banality. He stared at her. She stared at him. They waited for the appropriate moment, the polite moment where it was allowed to talk about what they wanted; work.

He was glorious in work. The only person she could rely on. They were always exactly on the same line of the same page of the same book. They had meetings before meetings to ensure that all others that were invited were given the least amount of rope to hang each other with. They had meetings after meetings to clean up whatever fresh hell was thrown at them that day.

He made her feel more dwarven than hin, most days. If she could call anyone friend, it would have been him.


“I'm telling you as a friend, Birdie....I saw him crying in the Shrine.” Red frowned at her.

Birdie's jaw tightened. Out of all the males, she got this one. “I'll handle it. Who else knows?”

“Just us but I'm worried about him. Is he stable?”

“He's fine. I'll /handle/ it.” She uttered. She wished she could feed him to the Elder Dirtytoes. Those two were the same; they were made for each other.
Formerly; Echo Hemlocke-Ralkai, Joshua Colt, Namil Evanara, Elanor Shortwick, Sawyer Brook, Kaylessa Dree, Sines Oliver Selakiir, Birgitta Birdie Swordhill, Bella Weartherbee, Arael Laceflower, Corbin, Rupert Silveroak, Hadi the Slave and others.

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