Osilon was attacked?!?
Mar 27, 2014 13:42:02 GMT -5
Post by Brenton on Mar 27, 2014 13:42:02 GMT -5
((I had to edit that so that it showed it was OOC and not a part of the thread...sorry.))
Brenton felt the air against his skin as he landed on the ground, already changing back to his bipedal form with his cloak swirling around his ankles. He brushed some dirt from his legs before walking toward the city slowly, trying to figure out what was going on in his time of absence. There were no sounds of terror or fighting as well as no smell of blood or fire which meant he was safe for now without fighting. Yet the elf king still loosened Undbitr in its sheathe with an unconscious movement and a brush of his fingers against the cool metal of the blade. Already he was feeling safer.
Ahead was the city made from trees and built into nature herself instead of destroying all that was beautiful like humans did just to live. Brenton walked into the midst of elves who were milling about in confusion, yet they all moved aside out of respect for him when he got close. Right in front of the man was the person that Brenton was looking for, Drayden Brentonsson. Yet the king slowed and halted because he felt uncomfortable walking up to his son with his body like it was, back to the way it looked when he left Uru'baen. Brenton concentrated and began to feel his body change, hoping to go back to how he looked when he was in Ellesmera before going to Osilon. Instead he felt something tug at his memories, a brief image of himself in the lake when he was in Uru'baen the day he learned he was going to be a father.
Instead of being twelve years older than he was at the moment, Brenton went back in time to when he was only five feet tall with a slim figure and just enough muscle to swing a sword or draw a bow on occasion. He had softer features without any facial hair, his ears fully pointed but his chin square while his eyes were prominent in the king's face. Brenton's hair was long and hanging down to just the top of his shoulder blades as well as brushing his nose. As the spell continued, the king felt a red band of cloth wrap around his head with the symbol of a fire and an olive branch on the front, holding his hair up to just cover his left eye. The cloth grew and turned into a thick woolen cap but the best part was that the crown stayed on his head, but it was now barely staying up.
His clothes were red and black, made of leather and silk as well as some fine cotton, with stitching of the Empire insignia on the front. But the really bad part was that the ring he had destroyed when leaving the Empire, the one that tracked Brenton, was on his finger again where it had been. He smiled and realized his skin was softer and peach colored without the roughness of many battles fought. Brenton was only fourteen again and this was bad for the world.
The king looked at himself and realized with fear that the only person who would recognize him would be Emiryal, hopefully, because of their time in the Empire. Quickly Brenton dashed into the clearing where the four people were and slid to a halt in front of Emiryal, gasping with fear in his eyes. Emiryal, this...this is bad. Please... Brenton stopped as he realized his voice was childlike and he was still freaking out. Fear shouldn't be felt anymore, what was going on? Unless that was an emotion he still could feel but had suppressed it when older.
---
Drayden was standing there listening to Lyserg talk, already having nodded to Emiryal barely to show he understood. Suddenly a boy dressed in Empire clothing ran up but something was familiar about this boy, the way he spoke and how he looked so much like Drayden. Empire brat, why do you run to us and demand help from Emiryal un...Dad? This can't be possible. How did you return to this age just by letting Murtagh kill you and what is that terrible ring that is emitting a dark aura? Drayden spoke quickly, half way through recognizing how he knew Brenton and why he looked so much like the boy. Something was strange but Drayden didn't know how to fix what had happened.
Brenton felt the air against his skin as he landed on the ground, already changing back to his bipedal form with his cloak swirling around his ankles. He brushed some dirt from his legs before walking toward the city slowly, trying to figure out what was going on in his time of absence. There were no sounds of terror or fighting as well as no smell of blood or fire which meant he was safe for now without fighting. Yet the elf king still loosened Undbitr in its sheathe with an unconscious movement and a brush of his fingers against the cool metal of the blade. Already he was feeling safer.
Ahead was the city made from trees and built into nature herself instead of destroying all that was beautiful like humans did just to live. Brenton walked into the midst of elves who were milling about in confusion, yet they all moved aside out of respect for him when he got close. Right in front of the man was the person that Brenton was looking for, Drayden Brentonsson. Yet the king slowed and halted because he felt uncomfortable walking up to his son with his body like it was, back to the way it looked when he left Uru'baen. Brenton concentrated and began to feel his body change, hoping to go back to how he looked when he was in Ellesmera before going to Osilon. Instead he felt something tug at his memories, a brief image of himself in the lake when he was in Uru'baen the day he learned he was going to be a father.
Instead of being twelve years older than he was at the moment, Brenton went back in time to when he was only five feet tall with a slim figure and just enough muscle to swing a sword or draw a bow on occasion. He had softer features without any facial hair, his ears fully pointed but his chin square while his eyes were prominent in the king's face. Brenton's hair was long and hanging down to just the top of his shoulder blades as well as brushing his nose. As the spell continued, the king felt a red band of cloth wrap around his head with the symbol of a fire and an olive branch on the front, holding his hair up to just cover his left eye. The cloth grew and turned into a thick woolen cap but the best part was that the crown stayed on his head, but it was now barely staying up.
His clothes were red and black, made of leather and silk as well as some fine cotton, with stitching of the Empire insignia on the front. But the really bad part was that the ring he had destroyed when leaving the Empire, the one that tracked Brenton, was on his finger again where it had been. He smiled and realized his skin was softer and peach colored without the roughness of many battles fought. Brenton was only fourteen again and this was bad for the world.
The king looked at himself and realized with fear that the only person who would recognize him would be Emiryal, hopefully, because of their time in the Empire. Quickly Brenton dashed into the clearing where the four people were and slid to a halt in front of Emiryal, gasping with fear in his eyes. Emiryal, this...this is bad. Please... Brenton stopped as he realized his voice was childlike and he was still freaking out. Fear shouldn't be felt anymore, what was going on? Unless that was an emotion he still could feel but had suppressed it when older.
---
Drayden was standing there listening to Lyserg talk, already having nodded to Emiryal barely to show he understood. Suddenly a boy dressed in Empire clothing ran up but something was familiar about this boy, the way he spoke and how he looked so much like Drayden. Empire brat, why do you run to us and demand help from Emiryal un...Dad? This can't be possible. How did you return to this age just by letting Murtagh kill you and what is that terrible ring that is emitting a dark aura? Drayden spoke quickly, half way through recognizing how he knew Brenton and why he looked so much like the boy. Something was strange but Drayden didn't know how to fix what had happened.
