A Return (open)

[SIlverwolfe_]

ooc: This is prolly going to be a slow progressing RP

Silverwolfe smiled as the last of the rubble was blasted away from the mountain passes that allowed access to the rest of the world. It had been far too long since he and his people had contact with the outside world. After building an his Icarii Refuge in a high valley deep in the northern mountains, Silverwolfe and the other Icarii filled the passes they dug with hundreds of thousands of tons of rock and dirt from the surrounding mountains. They filled the passes in order to seclude the icarii from the outside world. Silverwolfe had believed in order to prosper, the people of this island had to make it on their own, away from the influence of the elder races.

He believed he was correct in this assumption, and that the time he and his people spent away from the others could finally come to an end. So he and the other Icarii spent the last few months weaving their magic and cleared out the buried passes. The humanoid population of the Valley had come from his nephew Manhael's clan of Assassins. It had grown exponentially during their seclusion and a city of stone had erupted where only a few dozen ramshackle huts had stood before. Still, as large as the city was, it only covered a small portion of the valley they lived in. The rest of the valley was covered in farms, pastures for livestock, fields for games and large training grounds for the people of the realm.

When the Seclusion first started, as the ruling head of the realm, Silverwolfe had ordered that starting at age ten until they were twenty, every person in the realm had to undergo intense combat training. The techniques learned were the combat styles of Manhaels Assassins and the way of the Icarii double-bladed Sword.

Other than Manhael, the Icarii, and Silverwolfe most of the original towns population had grown old. Manhael's Sidhe blood saving him from the affects of aging. Although Silverwolfe was half-Sidhe his Icarii side was dominant, He stood a full head over most humans, had long black hair and had large Silvery wings jutting from his back. The other Icarii, still few in number were fairly similar. Each was roughly the same height with large black wings and dark blond hair. The only exceptions were Silverwolfe's wife, Khelestra and their twin Children, Iscaron and Kyliah. Khelestra had long red hair and brown wings. Iscaron had Silvery-blue hair with wings of the same color, and Kyliah had platinum blond hair with white wings.

At the thought of his two children, Silverwolfe immediately took flight and headed to the forges sitting within the massive icarii palace. for nine years, Silverwolfe had been training his children in his own personal style of swordsplay. In only the last year had he passed on the training to their cousin, Manhael. He had spent the last year weaving his magic and swinging his hammer to make his children astoundingly beautiful weapons, fit for icarii royalty. Apon landing, Silverwolfe shifted to his Half human/Half sidhe form so he did not singe his wings and entered the forge.

He found the blades where he left them for the last four months, slowly cooling in a tempering oven, siphoning in the icarii and Sidhe magics woven around them. Testing the weave of magic surrounding the weapons, he decided they were ready for the last incantation that would make them complete. Grabbing each weapon by its red-hot pommel he lifted them out of the oven, the flesh of his hands searing away and becoming a part of the working of the hilts.

Setting the glowing weapons down on a work table, Silverwolfe quickly healed his hands, then slit each of his wrists with a nearby work knife. As his blood drained down his hands, he directed each of the flows to the glowing blades. Once a fairly sizeable amount of his blood sat on each weapon, he healed his wrists. Muttering a few words to himself under his breath, Silverwolfe begain weaving magic apon his boiling blood, forcing it to trail down the blades and gather at the center of the crossguard of each hilt. There it formed into the shape of a human heart, and mysteriously started beating. From there, they sank into the pommel and dissapeared.

Safely picking up the red hot blades with his magic, he brought them to a cooling tank. Carefully setting them down in the liquid, the blades began to slowly cool over the next few hours. As the blades cooled, their color and intricate decorations began to show through. On the hilt, where he had grabbed the weapons, there was a strange pulsation within the marks his hands had left there. The intricate blood grooves on the blades actually seemed to contain moving blood. The blades were Identical except for one factor, One blade was a light, sky blue, and the other was a brilliant green.

After the blades were fully cooled, Silverwolfe removed the blades from the liquid and wiped them down, drying them off completely. Moving about the shop, He retrieved a roll of strong leather. Using the leather, he carefully wrapped each of the hilts with a beautiful design. Using a fine gold thread, he bound the leather, and fused it all to the hilt using his magic. Retrieving the sheaths he had made for the swords, He set them down before picking up the blue blade.

"I put much love and care into your creation. You will protect my beloved son Iscaron for all time. Your name shall be Elharii. In the language of the icarii it means life."

At that, he slid the sword into one of the sheaths and set it aside. Picking up the second weapon, Silverwolfe spoke again.

I put much love and care into your creation. You will protect my beloved daughter Kyliah for all time. Your name shal be Har`dovi. In the language of the Icarii it means beauty.

Setting the other blade in its sheath, Silverwolfe smiled at his creations, then left with the blades, To store them in the high tower of the icarii palace, Silverwolfe and Khelestra's Living Quarters.

[Thepheonix]

Toph glanced up as Silverwolfe strode past his door holding two blades under his arm. He was glad he had been able to spend the past decades with his good friend and Khelestra. Over the years he had even become used to Khelestra's presence, even if the two of them, and silverwolfe, for that matter, had once been dire enemies. Seeing his children growing up had been an even better treat, for they would enjoy long, long lives, and it had been so long since Toph had been able to stand watching people he knew age. It had just become too painful.

Toph was the last full-blooded Sidhe, or at least, the last full-blooded Sidhe that he knew about. He could only assume that the few who had survived the centuries with him had perished in the great cataclysm. Lyssia, Azrael, Oriana, the Rhymer... all gone. He had been fortunate enough to escape the island with Silverwolfe, and the two of them had stuck together ever since, until they had come, along with Silverwolfe's kin, to this mountain and began their long seclusion... a time for Toph and the other immortals to leave the younger races to their games, and allow them to rebuild without the shadow of the elder days upon them.

Toph had agreed with Silverwolfe's logic, although he doubted that the people would have felt much pressure from the Icarii and himself. Even before the cataclysm, Toph had become used to people doing a double take at seeing him... Toph imagined most of them thought of him as an old relic as opposed to some sort of threat or lord... but Toph had been tired, and Silverwolfe's offer to join him had been welcomed.

"Although" Toph muttered to himself, "I think we may be opening the passes a little too soon"

Toph glanced back down at the spell book he had been studying, "A Study of Locator Spells: Finding People, Places, and Lost Faces." Not the most engrossing material. In fact... there were better things to do.

Toph lazily stretched himself out of his chair and strolled out of his room, following Silverwolfe. Despite being nearly a millenia old, Toph looked to be in his late twenties to early thirties, and would remain that way for milennia to come, aging slowly, but never *quite* reaching old age.

Toph finally caught up to his friend when Silverwolfe paused at a balcony to gaze out over the city that he and Toph had built... in large part with their magic. Toph could faintly see the irridescent shimmer over the mountain ridges that signified the edges of their illusion sphere, which made the city appear to be just another crag in the mountain range.

"Even after all these years" Toph said, placing his hand on Silverwolfe's shoulder, "Its still beautiful. Are you sure you're ready to let the younger races in?"

[Traveller]

The man known only as 'The Traveler' looked quizically at the mountain. In his many years, he had come this way before in his travels, and had met with the odd band of 'villagers' who lived in the valley below. "Villagers," he harrumphed, "More like creepy silent semi-human assassin-spawn". The villagers had definitely creeped the Traveler out.

But, that was not what was important. What was important was the mountain before him. Now, the Traveler was well known for being able to keep a mental picture of the landscape he had seen before in his head at all times... a skill that had given him many fine jobs leading groups of people through the wilderness where only he had been before. Like the band of bandits that he was leading around this mountain ridge to raid the village on the other side of the mountains. It wasn't the most... noble of jobs, but the pay was good, and for the Traveler, that is what mattered.

But this pass... IT had not been there before. the Traveller was sure of it. When he had last come this way, he had been unable to see any way through the ridge at this point... only further south were there traversable passes. This one, however, looked to be traversable, and if it was, the time he would save the bandits would translate into a hefty bonus. The Traveler looked back at the bandits, all 100 of them, and made a signal. They would head through this pass, and whatever happened, would happen.

[Traveller]

The Traveller carefully looked around as he and the bandits entered the pass. Something was not... quite... right about this place. For one, the path had obviously been cleared recently. There were no wayward boulders to climb over, nor were there any bushes growing over the trail. Secondly, the walls of the pass looked far too smooth, as if someone had shaped the entire pass magically, in addition to making the trail itself easy to follow.

Traveller fell back from his position at the front of the clan, and waited for the bandit leader to catch up to him.
"I'm concerned about this pass", the Traveller said quietly. "It doesnt... look right."
"Look right?" the leader, Hwarg, replied. "How so?"

Traveller briefly went over the oddities he had noticed. When he had finished, Hwarg shook his head.
"So, you are worried about the rocks not being here? Dont worry, little scout, we will protect you from the disappearing rocks"
Traveller blinked in frustration.
"But, Hwarg... rocks dont just disappear... something... something powerful... moved them all away!

But Hwarg wouldn't consider turning around. Sighing, Traveller made his way back to the front of the band just as they came around a bend in the pass.

"Whoa..." Traveller said. The citadel was before them.

[Thepheonix]

Toph saw that Silverwolfe was thinking about his answer carefully, and decided to give his friend time to think. So Toph turned and looked out over the landscape, admiring the buildings one more time. The perfect hideaway... and now it was time to leave it... to go out into the world again and see what the others had done with it.

Suddenly, Toph's eyes widened. It felt as if a small bell was ringing inside his head... very, very faintly, but still ringing regardless. Toph waited, making sure that what he was sensing was real. A Sidhe.

The Sidhe had the ability to sense those of their own kind... Or, at least, the remaining Sidhe on Tonan had all had that sense... although whether it was an innate sense or something that Azrael or another true master of the Art had cast over the dwindling numbers of Sidhe so they could congregate and greet one another more easily, Toph did not know. Regardless, whenever Toph was near another Sidhe, he got the distinct impression of a small silver bell ringing in his head. Half-Sidhe, like Silverwolfe, gave a different impression... more of a tinny, hollow 'sound'. Toph had gotten used to that feeling in his head, but after so many years, the sound of the bell in his head was wonderful. But How?

Toph tried to sense the direction of the other Sidhe, but failed. It was too far away. Long ago, Toph recalled, the bells had been nearly continuous, and he had simply tuned them out. Now, the unfamiliar feeling was all he could think about.

Then, there was another, and another, and another. Toph felt a smile come to his face. Somehow, his breathren had returned. Beaming, he turned to Silverwolfe, who, he was sure, could feel an echo of what Toph was feeling. Moments later, Toph dissapeared in a rush of air, heading for one of the local cities... or at least, what had been a city when he had joined Silverwolfe.

The Sidhe had returned.