Roleplay Forums > Canelux > Harena Wastelands > Mo'Mey Steppes > Traveling the Steppes
Elizabeth Stormflier

Character Info
Name: Elizabeth Stormflier
Age: 27
Alignment: CN
Race: Half-Dragon Lightning Variant
Gender: Female
Class: Wanderer
Silver: 63
Elizabeth stepped through the tall grass of the Steppes. Her apparel hadn’t changed much over the past six months, except for the fact that she had left her jacket back at The Golem’s Core in Railoch. Now, the soft winds blew at her green tunic, causing the edges of which to ripple all around her. Her black pants ended over top her boots. Leather bracers covered her forearms. The one on her left arm held a spool of silver wire that had a tiny blade attached to the end.Her two steel swords hung at her side as she walked. The shorter of the two, her Arming Sword, hung in front of the other blade. On her back was her bow and buckler, which had been fixed after her fight with the golem. The woman’s vibrant red hair was also blowing in the wind. The violent curls refused to lay flat, but were instead tied back in a ponytail. Piercing blue eyes looked out from pale, alabaster skin. A splashing of freckles adorned the left side of Elizabeth’s nose.

A small Ataiyan Dragon, about a foot in length, was draped across her shoulders. Using the upper edge of her buckler as a backrest, the creature slept humbly. Its incessant purring constantly soothed Elizabeth. It was almost completely white. However, the mane was a light blue and silvers scales ran down the creature’s length. Shifting in its slumber, the dragon nestled its head against Elizabeth’s neck.

Elizabeth took a deep breath as the sight of the Steppes finally struck her. It was magnificent. While the sight couldn’t hold a candle to the land of her birth, Railoch, it was undoubtedly beautiful and stunning. The sent of the grasses rolled on the winds, and a herd of antelope grazed in the distance. Walking back down to the earthen road, Elizabeth couldn’t help but to remember what had brought her here. 

After her fight with the Golem, she was able to make quite the profit. Which had set her up for traveling. Thoughts of the tavern filled her head. Rev had been quiet the whole time, and Clanker had to work before she left. It was the actions of the other patrons that had surprised her the most. The Talin brothers had convinced her to dance with them that night. Samson had even composed a small song about how Elizabeth had practically grown up at the Tavern. However, it was the Halfling troupe that surprised her the most. Half of them had started crying while the other half had hugged her. Smiling to herself, Elizabeth began to softly sing Samson’s song.

*If you want to read the song, PM me*

Rumours of battle had reached her when she first set foot in Canelux. Much like a moth drawn to a flame, Elizabeth couldn’t help but to travel to the Steppes. She was on her way to the only permanent city on the Steppes, Sviet. A small, general map was rolled up and stored in her bag. Along with several other spools of wire, some rations for both her and Felix were stored in the bag.

A shout and the musical clang of steel on steel brought her back to reality. Stopping in her tracks, Elizabeth merely listened as the primal music of warfare and conflict filled her bones. A twisted smile crept up her face. This had been exactly what she was searching for. Her pace quickening as the clashing of blades and weaponry increased in amount and volume, Elizabeth quickly crested the next hill. Just as she did so, the wind picked up, blowing her ponytail against her face. Felix rolled over, awoken by the sudden increase in Elizabeth’s pace. Chirping the small dragon peered out at the small battle that was being raged.

One side was made up of orcs while the other was made up of humans. The orcs were clad in rough chainmail and animal hides. Three of them were wearing armor that was much better than the others. Small, tightly woven chainmail covered the bulky forms. Good quality leather armor clad their legs and chests. One of these leaders, for that was what they appeared to be, even wore some slightly beat up plate armor. Wicked, jagged scimitars were held in their hands. Beat up, dented, and poorly forged shields adorned most of the orcs. What they lacked in equipment was easily made up by their physical prowess.

Walking down the path, Elizabeth tried to call out to the fighting groups, but the din of battle was too great. Smiling, serenely, she continued to close in on the fighters. Patting Felix’s head, she whispered softly to the small dragon. “Felix, fly high.” Moving her head just enough for the dragon to take off, Elizabeth watched as the small Ataiyan flew into the air. Smiling gently, she drew her bastard sword from its scabbard. Even with the roar of battle merely a hundred feet away, she could still hear the singing of the blade. Filled with a kind of happiness, the kind that she was made for, Elizabeth stepped into the fray. She didn’t have an enemy, she merely wanted to fight something.

The song of battle filled her limbs like lightning. The sparks danced along her arms and in her eyes. Her movements becoming sharper, more refined, and faster. She danced with her opponent. An orc of about six and a half feet in height, the thing towered above her. Not realizing that she was a newcomer, the orc slashed down at her, its jagged scimitar slicing through the air. As if she was made of water, Elizabeth moved softly, dodging the blow by a hair’s breath. Her smile drained from her face, not out of fear, but from concentration. Moving her arm, Elizabeth brought the back edge of her sword up under the orc’s outstretched arm. Pulling up and to the side, she sliced into the arm, and she reached all the way to bone. Blood poured out as she ripped her blade from the wound, the orc screaming and howling in pain. Sliding her right foot back, Elizabeth brought her sword in and lunged from underneath the orc’s injured arm. Shoving the point of her blade into the orc’s gut, from behind his shield, she could feel it as she sliced into his internal organs. With a wicked grin, Elizabeth’s grip on her sword changed. A surge of lightning poured down the blade’s length and discharged into the orc’s stomach. The smell of burning flesh sprouted from the standing corpse. Drawing her blade out of the orc, several drops of crimson blood fell on her face. 

Looking back, she noticed the look of astonishment in the face of one of the men. Her eyes widening, Elizabeth realised that they might help her if she helped them. Smiling back at the man, she turned around and engaged the next orc.

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