Ashe could only nod mutely, the chill settling into her bones causing her to shiver unsteadily. Not from the cold, but the grasping bite of discomfort as Aatrox continued to speak and Tryndamere continued to roar. She pressed her hand against Tekun's arm, almost as if gently pushing it away. "I'm fine," she said softly. But her eyes were not on the warrior nor on his men, but on the weapons and on the bullets that whistled through the air. She followed the projectiles, in slow motion, as they imbedded themselves into the Darkin's skin.
She half expected Aatrox to laugh and brush them off but the rivers of red streaming from his blade told her she was wrong. It was not him, but the sword that gave him power. A small gasp flew from her lips as Tryndamere was hefted up by a clawed palm and slammed into a tree - a sickening feeling churning through her stomach as she saw the rough bark protuding from his abdomen.
Ashe staggered backwards, ever so subtly, as Tryndamere cried out once more - this time with more fury than she had ever seen. Even the snow and the crystalline flowers seemed to melt and wither away. But she did not speak or call out, knowing better than to intrude and it was only until Tryndamere turned and glared at Tekun. The look was lethal, seething with anger and frustration and the Archer subconsciously moved closer towards the Preserver, almost as if to protect him from the evaporating rage of the King.
She flinched, not knowing that she did so, when Tryndamere spoke to her. There was a restrained gruffness. Ashe bit her lower lip, despite the raw numbness. She smiled shakily, the best she could as she adverted her eyes from the gaping wound. "You seem a lot more hurt than I."
Post by The Barbarian King on Sept 20, 2013 0:19:37 GMT -5
The look Tryndamere gave Ashe was one he did not often give, but her words had nudged him in just the right direction for such an emotion to surge; a cold, empty, and depressed stare.
"I'll live."
His words were blunt and abrasive, and held some weight of self-loathing within. Before Ashe could say anything else, he simply continued his slow, somber march. All the rage he felt had emptied, and all that was left inside was a gnawing void, an unfulfilled purpose that plagued Tryndamere's mind.
The horse Tryndamere rode upon to reach Ashe walked up to him, nudging him in the shoulder. He stopped in his tracks, looking onward across the snow-covered plains of the Freljord, Rakelstake shining far across like the northern star.
He grasped the reigns of the horse, climbing upon its back. His hands guided it towards where Ashe stood. His arm, his right arm, reached out for the Queen to take.
"They will want to know you are safe."
His word were still heavy with crestfallen overtones, but his eyes held small flickers of life. His duty called before his personal affairs, as much as he would fight otherwise. He was the King, and he needed to act the part as best he could.
Ashe pressed her lips together, both unafraid and unwavering as Tryndamere's glance mirrored that of the iciest tundra. She did not respond; not a word slipped, not a sound flowed as she clutched at the cloak around her shoulders a little more tighter. Not for warmth, but because she somehow felt safer. Though she did not show it, the feeling she felt now was a discomfort she hadn't felt in years. Like the gaze of thousands when her mother's funeral had turned into a coronation for their new 'leader'.
It was the huff of a horse that caught her attention, and Ashe looked towards the wounded King; pride, spirit and body. Broken. It was something she didn't like to see, largely because it reminded her too much of herself and of the gentle shards of ice that encased her body whilst the others knelt and painted the snow crimson. She heard the soft crunch of ice as the animal paced towards her and there was a hand, out stretched, and words murmured.
Her eyes narrowed and though her hesitation was brief, her rushing thoughts were not. She would take the King's calloused hand, full of rage and anger. She knew she would, but something stopped her from the instant reaction. Not hate, she did not hate him for who he was or what he meant in her life. All that mattered was what he meant to Freljord. To their City. Ashe lifted her hand, the one that was not numb and overrun with poison, and her fingers gently touched Tryndamere's palm.
There was another second of hesitation, her eyes lifting to meet Tryndamere's which wavered like a candle, grasping for a chance at life and struggling. Yes, she saw it, the struggle. Her mind was not on the Preservers or on Tekun, or even on the Barbarian King and what had just transpired. Rakelstake came to mind; Freljord. So she clasped his hand and with his help, pulled herself up onto the horse. The silence hung like a dark cloud pregnant with rain, and indeed a light snow had begun to fall.
She took it upon herself to shake the discomfort from her thoughts, though her mind continued to crash. Ashe knew she was tired, but strength was all she had. Freljord was all she had.
Post by The Barbarian King on Sept 24, 2013 19:39:18 GMT -5
Lightly nudging on the horses sides with his iron-clad boots, the creature began to move forward, trotting across the white plains. Flecks of snow caught on the horses mane, little spots of white upon a black canvas. Slowly, the horse took them back to Rakelstake, where they, Queen Ashe and King Tryndamere, were needed. But most of all...
Tekun silently watched as the exchange took place. Aatrox had been felled, or at least he could have been. The sword empowered him but a barrage had been enough to drop the Darkin. If not for that blade, he'd have a corpse before him. He doubted this would be the last he saw of him.
He and his men began to follow Tryndamere and Ashe back with only the sound of their footsteps to follow and of their horses. Ashe was safe. The experience had been shaking but what mattered was she was alive. The Immortal Soldier would settle for this, even if some prides had been wounded.
Welcome to Maelstrom, Original Characters, Summoners and Champions alike. We are a divergent setting roleplay forum for the ever-popular MOBA by Riot, League of Legends. This means we are based in Riot canon, but your characters' actions can have a real, lasting impact on the world. Together, the Maelstrom community endeavors to bring the League of Legends setting and characters to life through collaborative storytelling and meaningful development. We welcome you along for the ride.
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hello new skin yes. gonna work out some kinks but let me know what you guys think. it's not all that flashy but i didn't really like the tabs so the side bar is back. oh and the cbox has also made it's appearance. -rurin.
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