Lieu: La citadelle
Bon maintenant, il a mangé.
Équipement: Matériel de voyage, corde d'escalade, son épée. Déguisement de garde.

Tarwin s'embrasa autour du labyrinthe des couloirs de la citadelle pendant longtemps avant de tomber sur un ensemble de gardes patrouilleurs, il était au courant des cloches qui sonnaient autour de lui, mais il n'était pas complètement sûr pourquoi. "La moitié!" Ils ont commandé. "Que fais-tu ici?" Ils ont demandé, tout comme il était sur le point de répondre-- "Vous n'êtes pas un officier de patrouille! Vous êtes de la prison, expliquez-vous!" Ils ont interrompu. Il a rapidement commencé à trouver une explication, mais il a soupçonné les gardes avant qu'il n'ait l'intention d'attendre, alors il a commencé à parler avant que l'histoire soit entièrement formée. "Le directeur de la prison m'a envoyé envoyer des renforts vers le bas, les choses sont vraiment hors de portée là-bas. Mais c'était il y a un moment et je me suis perdu sur le chemin du retour." Les deux gardes échangeèrent un regard et l'un d'eux hurla légèrement, et ils lui retournèrent le regard. "Ils ont réussi à rassembler la plupart des évasions, mais apparemment un groupe de prisonniers particulièrement dangereux s'est rompu et la douleur a disparu." Ce qui expliquait les cloches, l'homme fronça un peu de son bon œil, restant fidèle à l'acte. "Particulièrement dangereux?" Il a répété. « Eh bien, nous n'avons entendu que quelques rapports éraflants, mais il semble que ce soit deux grands battements, quelques elfes et demi races, un petit voleur et ce prince voyou. » Tarwin a hurlé la tête lentement. "Damn, et tu ne sais pas où ils vont?" Ils secouèrent la tête. -- Eh bien, je pense que je ferais mieux de retourner là-bas et de les aider à regarder si je peux, de quelle façon est-ce?
Après avoir reçu des instructions qu'il n'allait pas utiliser Tarwin parti essayer de trouver un moyen de sortir de la citadelle, il avait passé beaucoup trop longtemps à l'intérieur de la place et il a voulu sortir de toute la ville, trésor attendait pour lui aller dans les ruines oubliées de Baalor. Il finit par se rendre aux murs de l'Est de la citadelle, il regarda pour voir la cause d'un ruckus bruyant. Il semblait qu'un ensemble de guerriers montés attaquaient une partie de la garnison de la citadelle, il regardait sur les murs pendant un certain temps et finalement les voyait partir avec les deux battements et probablement le reste des prisonniers. Alors qu'il regardait, il entendit quelqu'un crier derrière lui.
"Hé vous!" Tournant autour de Tarwin regarda pour voir un groupe de gardes lourdement armés se fermant le long des murs, il regarda par-dessus son épaule et vit d'autres gardes se refermer. Il avait le sentiment le plus étrange de déjà vu. "De quoi s'agit-il?" Il riait en regardant légèrement entre les deux groupes. "Enlève ton casque!" Un officier a ordonné et Tarwin s'est conformé, enlevant le casque et en le posant. "Bon bien..." L'officier s'avança et tira sa lame. "Pensé que tu puisses t'échapper dans le chaos, hein, les paupières?" L'officier avait visité la prison à plusieurs reprises et avait pris une haine particulière à l'égard de Tarwin après avoir essayé de faire une blague. "Ça fait longtemps qu'on ne voit pas." Il riait légèrement en amenant la pointe de la lame près de la gorge de l'homme. En réponse, Tarwin leva les mains lentement et sourit. "Comment m'as-tu trouvé?" L'officier s'est ridiculisé, clairement fier de lui. "Ce n'était pas difficile, les patrouilles de garde ont dit que quelqu'un avec un œil a agi de façon suspecte, de là je savais que vous essayeriez de vous échapper et je savais aussi que vous seriez assez stupide pour essayer de sortir de la porte principale." Tarwin bougea les mains pour lui claquer lentement les mains, souriant comme il l'a fait. "Presque parfait, mais une chose... je n'avais pas prévu de sortir d'ici." L'officier était sur le point de parler mais Tarwin a apporté un poing pour désarmer l'homme de sa lame, puis il a apporté sa main libre pour saisir le crochet de sa taille qu'il a creusé dans la poitrine de l'homme avant de le frapper du mur et de sauter du côté opposé. En utilisant l'officier pour le contrebalancer, il a réussi à se ralentir assez et à utiliser le mur pour descendre sans mourir, bien qu'il lui ait fait mal à la cheville. Il entendit des cris frénétiques d'en haut et à l'intérieur du mur, bientôt la porte s'ouvrit et un chevalier s'élança, Tarwin tira son épée et le jeta haut pour frapper le chevalier de son pied avant de sauter sur le cheval lui-même. Rire à lui-même alors qu'il s'éloignait de la ville, il ne se souciait même pas des chevaliers qui venaient après lui, c'était un homme libre et ça faisait du bien.
Au lieu de se diriger directement vers les ruines Tarwin a dû prendre une route plus longue et moins directe pour perdre les chevaliers qui l'ont poursuivi. Il était parti pour une journée complète loin de la citadelle, puis deux jours couché bas dans les bois et mangeant de la soupe d'ortie, puis il a voyagé à la recherche des ruines qui avaient été tout autour. Sept jours après avoir échappé à la prison, Tarwin s'est retrouvé sur un cheval fatigué sur la pente vers Baalor, il a froncé un peu de voir une bannière vaguement familière et n'a d'une certaine façon pas été surpris de constater que les ruines supposées abandonnées n'étaient pas si vides et intactes. "La moitié!" Barrée un garde sentinelle sonnant aussi identique à ceux de la citadelle. "Hé, c'est bon, je veux juste savoir pour qui vous travaillez." La sentinelle, un jeune soldat très ambitieux, a répondu. « Nous sommes les soldats du prince Mundhir! » À laquelle Tarwin a répondu avec un rire copieux. "Ce n'est pas un coup de chance? Moi et le prince sommes de vieux potes!" Il a légèrement ajusté son poncho pour paraître un peu plus présentable. "Je suis un peu la raison pour laquelle lui et les autres se sont enfuis de la prison." La sentinelle fit signe et, en quelques minutes, Tarwin fut conduit dans la maison de justice peu après que le prince eut fini de parler. "Bonjour tout le monde! On dirait que ça fait des années que nous étions tous ensemble. » Rire et serrer les mains ensemble. "Qu'est-ce que j'ai manqué?" Il regarda autour des visages familiers, soulagé qu'ils n'étaient plus si près d'une cellule ou d'un couloir à l'étroit.
----
K l y m i D r y a d
Female ┊Nymph - Ferinum
----
Species description —
Kylmi's particular sub-species is a commonly known sort that dwell within thick foliage and exotic flora; often resembling their particular birth grotte: a natural hovel that has been worn into caves or perches in cliff faces often twined with precarious vines. Betwixt Alseides and Meliads, Klymi's people come in various sorts and origins that, due to their neighboring borders and genetics, has encouraged a sort of breeding that gives seed to hybrid collages of Hamadryads and Ferinums; particular Nymphs bourne from trees and then the feral respectively. Neither branch of Nymph is immortal, only has significant longevity compared to most, but are still capable of dying from fatal conditions. Ferinum genetic sequences are influenced by their environments, having been bred in the thick forests that were laced with the magic stain of the White Stag, it has produced rather distinctive features of various fauna in their kind. Their magic capabilities are propagated from the constant wiles of nature, as per their places of birth and creation, this begets a sort of ever changing essentials and disposition: to be tame and soft as flowers but bridled with thorns of venomous elegance. Not to be mistaken for the Fey,  for they are not as cruel in heart though they often find themselves in swindle with their festiveness and carnal tortures when it comes to robbing the youth from their towns and traditions. The Ferinum though are swayed and seduced by their rather carnal and animal complexions more so, typically carnivorous  this often reflects to their salacious types. Fernium enjoy the splendors of the world, indulging in their passions and vigorous desires: these are often wants, rather than needs, and are particularly selfish and manipulative because of them, along with not caring for distinction among their impromptu lovers.
Noteworthy Abilities / Limitations —
The origins of a Ferinum's magic is often volatile and reflects their natures: white, grey, or black, it will alter and change on the whim of the performer but always falls back to their Dryad origins from their original mothers. Some can be capable of beast manipulation and summoning depending on their genetics and blood. Their powers can be derived from instinct and adaptation, thus they can alter at any point should the desire of the user transition drastically, much like the workings of vegetation and some regenerative abilities. However, much like their feral counterparts, they can be savage, unthinking and predatory. Klymi's magic begets a darker, seductive disposition from years of meddling with mortal affairs and to benefit her entirely, thus she has an assortment of grey and black for a basis and common point.
M A N I P U L A T I O N
This a standard for most Ferinum with Nymph-Dryad origins, to be able to seduce and cajole everyday plant life to their whims. They have the belief and religion that everything has a soul and within that soul is the potential to be swayed, from trees to grass, the capacity within them can be touched and manipulated by their waif bodies and minds. They're bound to the earth and the fauna that thrive in them due to being born among them, and the cause of mana that course through the plants or animals they empire, the vegetation or creature can warp depending on the emotional state of the user. Klymi's manipulative powers are second nature and state of mind, but being limited from the forests will hinder her and her potential. Due to her darker personality, any plant she manipulates is often assuaged with thorns and bruises to a dark green and violet discoloration, any animal she favours will also be effected. This natural affinity is broad in the spectrum of usage, however, Kylmi's personality prevents her from stimulating new growth like her typical white magic blessed sisters.
T H O R N * B L A D E
Much like the name indicates, Kylmi's manipulation can armour one of her arms in a blade of thorns and bark, giving it a sort of resilience and structure of a common blade. This enhances the actual thorns and spines that are fixated on her arms, and because of this her blade is a living extension of her body and pulsates much like her heart.
S L Y V A N
In a stance of defense, Kylmi can submerge herself directly into trees, becoming one with their souls and bound to them psychically but in doing so her vitality is entwined with that of the tree and it takes a considerable amount for her to disentangle herself from the bark. It's often a common fear though for a Nymph of her origin to do this, as with age they can sometimes petrify into sentient trees and be immobile for eternity. As such, Kylmi will only fall back to this in desperation.
L E A F * W H I S T L E
Much like a song, Kylmi has an ability of music much like common Nymphs, her musical inclinations are merely for jovial and carnival circumstances rather than practical prowess. In this she can craft instruments from common plants and with use of magic, can create song from them. Most of her sounds however possess a rather inappropriate, carnal sort of cadence that infect the mind.
H E A R T * O F * T H E * F O R E S T
Despite her darker heart, Kylmi is obligated to protect forests and plants of any kind. Damages done to flora mentally pains her to witness and her kind is forbidden to do any harm to nature. Her magic and soul are meant for the ways of life and renewal, growth and sunlight and she is directly influenced by these very aspects - they can benefit her or impair her drastically. In the much more shadowed part, death is a commonality in the ways of life and this is direct from the feral part in her blood. Being among the forests levels these two sides of her spirit and depending on where she is, her heart can be influenced and manipulated by her environmental surroundings.
F E R A L
Due to the hybrid quality of her blood, Kylmi has a drawback from her animal counterpart. This gives impression of a bestial savagery that effects her mentally and emotionally, falling upon primal urges and morality. She can usually keep this persona in check, however, being shackled or cornered will often spur this side of her.
Background —
Born in the thick wilds of Isildier, Kylmi's mother of origin was a Nymph of the wood known as a Hyleoroi, a sub-branch of Dryhad that acted as guardians and watchers of the wood. Her father was an Alseides from the glens and groves of this enchanted forest, these types were located to the centre of the thicket and often preformed as sentinels to the White Stag who ruled Isildier as a haven. It was often revered as sacred and only permitted to those deemed worthy by the creatures who lived within it, pilgrimages were embarked upon with each excursion aiming to simply come upon the thick browse that served as Isildier's borders. The expanse of the woodland stretched to incredible and tale worthy lengths, brimmed to the tree tops with all sorts and variations of fauna that hadn't been discovered and races like those of the Nymphs and ashen Fey of the Unseelie and Seelie courts. But as stories go, the wild and exotic are often purged and persecuted for their differences and mysteries, the world wishing to expand upon Isildier's greenery.
Kylmi was born in the core of a seemingly endless persecution, the White Stag blessing the children of the unfortunate circumstance and thus influencing their genetic makeup. Here the generation of Nymphs were given a piece of Isildier's heart so that even when their homes were seized and pillaged, a fragment of their origins would follow them always, in the splitting and shares of the wood, the Fey were gifted with the soul and spirit; one for the Unseelie and the opposite for the Seelie. In this, they would continue to honour the depths and secrets of Isildier along with their cousins. But revenge spiked their hearts and warped their souls, particularly the Unseelie when their homes were destroyed completely. And so the creatures of the wood became hopeless vagabonds wondering aimlessly when the taint of mortals came upon and inflicted their essences. This happened many years ago, a near century of old hatred, some petrified upon their fears and sorrows, creating a crude forest known as the Weeping Grove in place of Isildier's once upon a time glory. Here, the trees were mocking faces of gaping agony and endless tortures with gnarled roots and twisted beasts. Nature here was a poisonous retribution and the White Stag became a ghost fixated upon the woes of time and treachery, now an omen of death with his heart, soul and spirit now divided among his subjects.
Kylmi vaguely recalls upon this past, as time and memory tend to elude and evade her due to a long time wondering aimlessly across the world. Her family drifted without care or a true destination, just migrating upon instinct since the Weeping Grove was a grave sight; not a place to really live when you were bourne from the wilds. They didn't have knowledge of where their Fey cousins went, as the courts spread out far and wide into their sub-courts and mingling upon the mortal kind quite easily. For the Nymphs that embarked across the world, it wasn't so easy, they needed a home and a place to thrive and claim new roots, some perished among the way in fatal diseases and rot and some were captured in a cruel intent during this time of war that seemed to stretch beyond borders and mountains and the seas. Others spread to different areas, pulling apart from their families: brothers and sisters departed and so did the fragments of Isildier.
Her first actual clarity of memory is trekking across the South Spires and into the Uchfos Forest where the Eblistan Citadel stood as a tantalizing gem to be explored and calculated. Though her lack of social graces with man left her fumbling and awkward when first greeting the typical occupants of this blossoming kingdom, however Kylmi adapted and perhaps a little too well. She took to the natural, lustful origins of her feral birth and mingling among the common folk with a penchant of acquiring various lovers in her time she spent browsing among the seedier underbelly of Eblistan. Despite the loss of their original home, the Nymphs adapted quite well to their new encampment and share the Uchfos with various others though it compares nothing to the wonders of Isildier: that place now is just a dream; a horrid reminder of what has passed. The Nymphs brought with them their traditions and habits of dance and careless glee, trying to smudge out their rather terrible beginnings. To ask one of the people where they came from is an actual insult to them even. Thus it has earned them a near untrustworthy and shadowy assumption from their sudden appearances in Uchfos and the Citadel, sometimes you can't trust the unknown.
Kylmi doesn't like to reflect on her origins in this and perhaps it is this willing and careless banishment of her roots that sort of darkens her spirit and influences her powers. She believes that memories will only continue to allow the hurt to fester and boil within, and so with near religious fanfare she has long been dipping into the provocative natures in her heart without a flicker of remorse or care.
Reason for Detainment —
It was such a scandal: a merchant's son swindled by the song of a Nymph that was found in his bed in a troubling circumstance. The situation was later just a mere circulating rumour without any sort of backing evidence, however Kylmi's sudden detainment drew a rather curious inquiry. The truth of the matter was the son's rather critical status among the royals, his engagement didn't benefit from the adultery either, and in a attempt to hide the affair, Kylmi was tossed behind bars for being the instigator. So they say; though many would not be surprised considering Kylmi's rather lecherous infamy.