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๐จ๐๐ฅ๐ ๐ฅ๐๐๐ฅ ๐๐ฒ๐ต๐ญ ๐๐ ๐๐ช ๐ง๐๐๐๐ค
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- Sep 9, 2015
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- สแด แด แดแด ๐ฉ๐จ๐จ
There was a saying in treasure hunting - this business is not about what you find, itโs about what you donโt find. And Rhal, short for Rhalโvoth, scoffed at that saying until she learned that lesson first hand. The leoniness, standing at 6โ7โโ tall and built powerfully enough to wrestle a minotaur and win, had once been one of the best in the trade. Even as a cub, her brutal strength had been remarkable, and, paired with her inclination for exploration and mischief, a constant source of headache for her parents. Rhal got into the treasure hunting business by accident, though in a way, it only made sense. The proclivity to delve deep into winding mountain tunnels in search of gold was not all that different from liberating robin eggs from the tallest trees.
Although she styled herself a treasure-hunter, her activities often far exceeded that nomenclature. Local bandits roughing up a defenseless village? That became her business whether the villagers had gold to pay or not. Despite the fact that she never stayed in one place too long, her audacious exploits, combined with striking silver hair and that elemental infused longsword of hers, earned her a reputation as โArgent Lightningโ. Where her footfall traversed, treasures abounded and ruffians trembled.
Well, that was about three years ago, and it has been pretty much downhill from there.
โSigh, no wayโฆโ The low, raspy timbre of her voice huffed in annoyance, even as she examined her useless waterskin, which had somehow perforated for no apparent reason. Edit, no apparent reason other than her incredibly bad luck. Yeah, Rhal did that thing, that donโt touchy what you shouldnโt touchy thing, and as it turned out, all the strength in the world didnโt do much going toe to toe with a nasty centuries old curse.
Which in part explained her current whereabouts - lost in the woods, in what appeared to be bloody nowhere, positively stumbling through repetitive looking trees in search of some signs of civilization. โCome on, itโs gotta be around here somewhereโฆโ The locals had spoken, in hushed tones, of an enchantress that resided in the woods. A mysterious woman, they said, with ram-like horns and doe-like ears. A witch, a sorceress - the villagers couldnโt seem to agree with one another. What they did agree on was that she was seldom seen, but could brew a potion that would bring a half-dead man back to life and summon rain to end the long drought. How true was that? No idea. Local myths and legends were often just that. But Rhal was desperate. Any lead was better than no lead, and a mysterious forest witch seemed like the sort of entity that might know a solution to her curse.
Onlyโฆ โThis tree, again??โ She circled a great oak tree, examining the sword marks she inscribed onto the bark as a method of navigation, groaning in annoyance. Contrary to her current dilemma, Rhal possessed keen senses and an excellent sense of direction. In fact, she never had trouble finding much of anything, until this curse of haplessness. And now, well, now she was absolutely down on her luck, pun intended.
โHelllllllllllllllllllloooooooooooooooo, anybody home?โ Desperate times called for desperate measures. Making a hollow with her fingerless glovesโ clad hands, she drew in a deep breath and bellowed into the wilderness.
Although she styled herself a treasure-hunter, her activities often far exceeded that nomenclature. Local bandits roughing up a defenseless village? That became her business whether the villagers had gold to pay or not. Despite the fact that she never stayed in one place too long, her audacious exploits, combined with striking silver hair and that elemental infused longsword of hers, earned her a reputation as โArgent Lightningโ. Where her footfall traversed, treasures abounded and ruffians trembled.
Well, that was about three years ago, and it has been pretty much downhill from there.
โSigh, no wayโฆโ The low, raspy timbre of her voice huffed in annoyance, even as she examined her useless waterskin, which had somehow perforated for no apparent reason. Edit, no apparent reason other than her incredibly bad luck. Yeah, Rhal did that thing, that donโt touchy what you shouldnโt touchy thing, and as it turned out, all the strength in the world didnโt do much going toe to toe with a nasty centuries old curse.
Which in part explained her current whereabouts - lost in the woods, in what appeared to be bloody nowhere, positively stumbling through repetitive looking trees in search of some signs of civilization. โCome on, itโs gotta be around here somewhereโฆโ The locals had spoken, in hushed tones, of an enchantress that resided in the woods. A mysterious woman, they said, with ram-like horns and doe-like ears. A witch, a sorceress - the villagers couldnโt seem to agree with one another. What they did agree on was that she was seldom seen, but could brew a potion that would bring a half-dead man back to life and summon rain to end the long drought. How true was that? No idea. Local myths and legends were often just that. But Rhal was desperate. Any lead was better than no lead, and a mysterious forest witch seemed like the sort of entity that might know a solution to her curse.
Onlyโฆ โThis tree, again??โ She circled a great oak tree, examining the sword marks she inscribed onto the bark as a method of navigation, groaning in annoyance. Contrary to her current dilemma, Rhal possessed keen senses and an excellent sense of direction. In fact, she never had trouble finding much of anything, until this curse of haplessness. And now, well, now she was absolutely down on her luck, pun intended.
โHelllllllllllllllllllloooooooooooooooo, anybody home?โ Desperate times called for desperate measures. Making a hollow with her fingerless glovesโ clad hands, she drew in a deep breath and bellowed into the wilderness.
#FF4444
