07-31-2018, 04:24 PM
[align=center][div style="text-align:justify;width:55%;font-size:10pt;font-family:verdana"]Warsongs was here because her brother was. It wasn't that she was loyal to him, she hadn't seen him in years. It was simply a place to orient herself around again, a purpose given back to her that she needed after the defeat. Shouts and screams and wails of horror and pain are still fresh in her mind. Even the smell of blood in the water is fresh - if she pauses to think about the slaughter too long it comes back, as vivid as the day it happened.
There is nothing to avenge. After all, the feline had been the last to lay down her weapons. And for her troubles, she had been spared to tell others about the disaster that befell her group. Warsongs would do nothing of the sort - she would not allowed herself to sully the deaths of her comrades by telling the deeds of such a group with fear. Fear empowered them, and Warsongs was not scared of them. If they came again, she would fight them again, tooth and claw and blade.
She listens to the introductions, although she's mostly disinterested. The black domestic has never been one for introductions, preferring to let her blades do the introductions for her. There was little more convincing than watching her fight with her blades, but they were gone and now, she was stuck having to start again. Back to square one...
[color=#C9B0BE]"My name is Cries and Songs of War, Warsongs if you wish to be brief. I am a member of the Warfare guild and I am a bladedancer." There is her introduction, although she looks like a sorry excuse for a dancer without her blades. The ribbons are still wrapped around her, although it is clear that they have seen better days. If one would look closely enough, they are frayed and still bear bloodstains. After all, there is little time to care about appearances when one is broken and bleeding. Now she was in a new group, she would have to replace them and the blades.
One was much easier than the other.
There is nothing to avenge. After all, the feline had been the last to lay down her weapons. And for her troubles, she had been spared to tell others about the disaster that befell her group. Warsongs would do nothing of the sort - she would not allowed herself to sully the deaths of her comrades by telling the deeds of such a group with fear. Fear empowered them, and Warsongs was not scared of them. If they came again, she would fight them again, tooth and claw and blade.
She listens to the introductions, although she's mostly disinterested. The black domestic has never been one for introductions, preferring to let her blades do the introductions for her. There was little more convincing than watching her fight with her blades, but they were gone and now, she was stuck having to start again. Back to square one...
[color=#C9B0BE]"My name is Cries and Songs of War, Warsongs if you wish to be brief. I am a member of the Warfare guild and I am a bladedancer." There is her introduction, although she looks like a sorry excuse for a dancer without her blades. The ribbons are still wrapped around her, although it is clear that they have seen better days. If one would look closely enough, they are frayed and still bear bloodstains. After all, there is little time to care about appearances when one is broken and bleeding. Now she was in a new group, she would have to replace them and the blades.
One was much easier than the other.
[b]IT'S EASIER TO BURY MY HEAD IN THE SAND SOMETIMES. AND I KNOW IT'S NOT THE RIGHT WAY TO GO BUT I PRAY THE GROUND WOULD SWALLOW ME WHOLE. — lucia & alisaie / inactive / playing ff14