Between Two Worlds (Closed to Rainingheat)

[BehaviorMod]

The Kingdom of Thoxinia is vast. A Kingdom that stretches over woods and forests, mountains and peaks, lakes, swamps and oceans. It is a kingdom of swords and sorcery, of men and Dragons, of witches and beasts. It is a kingdom enslaved. Enslaved to a single woman; the Queen of Thoxinia, Korinthia Melicent. It is unknown from whence she came or how she arrived; but her fierceness and cunning was unmatched in the realm of women. She seemed ageless, defiant of the natural laws that governed the world.

It was said, during her rise to power; that no man could resist her charm, nor her demands. Entire armies would lay down their swords; only to be utterly destroyed by the Queens army, or they would fall upon their own blades to save themselves the brutality. Word about her torture methods were even worse....how she could make you spill every secret from your brain before dancing you off the ramparts like a marrionette. These were just tales, of course, rumors that spread during the course of her sacking of the Kingdom.

After five years of war; the throne was finally hers and her reign was, and still is, a wicked one. Korinthia kept the secret of her magic and abilities from even her most loyal of Knights and advisors. No one but the Queen knew the truth of things, save for one man. The only man in the entire Realm that would do as she told him without question, without moral dilemma.

This man was named Jun Rhenor, and he was the Queens Black Hand, her enforcer, her assassin, her whatever she needed him to be. He was the one man that could and would do what others couldn't, wouldn't. He was charged with making sure no one knew her secret; charged with keeping it hidden and killing anyone who found out the truth.

It wasn't for another several years after Queen Melicent's reign had began that her secret had escaped for good, had physically escaped; for the Queens secret and source of magical power was a being of flesh and blood. Little more than a 20 year old human to anyone who didn't know better, and a girl with magical blood; a hybrid, to the Queen.

To the Queen; the girl was a weapon, a power to be used against any who apposed her rule. A weapon she had no problem wielding and keeping at bay with promises and threats. In actuality; the girl was part human and part something else entirely. The blood of the Siren coursed through her veins. It paled her flesh, swelled her hips and tits, smoothed her legs, made her hair fine....and it also gave her extraordinary abilities. It gave her the Siren's Song; the gift of using her voice and vocal abilities to varying degrees of effect. She could persuade people to do as told, could lead people to her and draw them in with only her voice, she could even kill with it. It was a 'gift' the Queen saw immediate power in. It was a gift she wanted returned, at all costs.
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"What do you mean my prisoner has escaped? How did she escape?! Where is she?!" Queen Melicent was standing face to face with the captain of her knights; a tall, imposing woman, dispite her fair skin and beautiful form.

She wore her crown, decorated with all manner of stone and metals, her jet black hair flowing under it and down her back. Upon her shoulders hung a black gown that almost looked like the feathers of a raven; the sheen black in one light, deep purple in the other. It drapped down to the floor so that she almost seemed to glide when she moved, and was cut in a V down her chest to expose the tops of her womanly curves. A red jewel hung against the deep valley of clevage her tits created, captured by a silver necklace. On every finger was a sort of ring; almost like the armor of a gauntlet, the ones on her index fingers comming to wicked points on the ends. Her eyes were the worst of all, however. Her eyes were blue, but the sort of blue that was dark; almost black.

"I....I'm sorry my Queen. You said she couldn't escape....wouldn't escape. I've kept my men posted at her cell for years as requested though, regardless. I found them in a daze, the cell had been opened and the had drawn their swords on each other. I don't know where she's gone off to, or how."

"Then go find her!!!" Korinthia screamed at the large man and he buckled into a bow before scurrying off as if the slender woman could end him right then and there just for spite. A noise came from the side of the hall and the Queen's dark eyes flicked over towards it, as if her stare could demolish the section of the castle it came from. There stood a man; not unlike any other man, he was rather unremarkable in looks; but he made up for that in talent.

Jun Rhenor bowed to his Queen and approached. He was tall, very tall, with deep tanned skin and long black hair that he kept in what he called a ceremonial ponytail someone from one of the eastern kingdoms had shown him. His eyes were green and seemingly dull of emotion. His body was lean, well defined and formed, but not bulky nor overly muscular. He liked it that way; it gave him the advantage. When he walked, he walked measuredly and surely. "Forgive my lateness, my Queen; I was surveying the dungeon."

"Jun, my sword, just who I need." Korinthia returned to her throne and sat upon it, crossing her legs and placing her hands on each arm rest. "I want you to find her; no matter what it takes. You know how important she is, how truely valuable she is to me. Everyone else just thinks her a captive, a girl; but you know better." The Queen shook her head and sighed. "Those Knights couldn't find a Dragon if it was breathing down their necks. You'll track her, and bring her to me. Kill anyone who impedes your hunt. I will have her back, Jun."

"...and have her you shall, my Queen. I swear it on my oath." Jun, saying nothing farther, turned and left to ready himself.
"You'd better remember your oath, my sword; or I'm going to have to break the horrible news to you about dear sister. Such a tragedy." Her lips curved in a wicked grin as she leaned back in her throne; knowing the girl would be back in her posession soon, and the Queen wouldn't be so careless next time. As she thought about the sweet torture she'd inflict upon the Siren hybrid, her fingers lazily stroked at the red jewel, the stone seeming to glow and resonate with her touch.

Korinthia Melicent (minus the black hair)

Jun Rhenor

 

[RainingHeat]

The song of the Siren...

A song so irresistible that no man, could hear it and escape. A sound so alluring, so beautiful, so tempting, that it has been known to induce, influence, persuede, even seduce one to their death. It was as if the sound hypnotized, charmed, captivated, and when heard, whole armies would impale themselves if she desired, if the thought even crossed her mind, others would lay down their swords, only to be slaughtered by the Queen's army, others would betray their own King or Queen, giving up vital secrets while screaming in abject terror or pain. The song of the Siren was a dangerous weapon.

Niarra knew well the song of the Siren. Her voice was a Siren's song. She had been born with this ability, one so rare, that her father had once considered rendering her mute. He had come close, so very close, to opening her throat and slicing out her vocal chords, even as the girl struggled and screamed at the very top of her lungs. He heard nothing, for he had deafened himself, again to avoid her most alluring of gifts. His eardrums punctured and ripped out by his own hand. He would render her mute, he told himself, and save her from the fate that had befell her mother, a siren herself. She having been captured and torn asunder by a group of men, eager to own the song of the Siren. He would save her, yes, he would save her.

He had died, trying to save her.

She was all of 12 seasons old when he had been slain, just as he had been about to perform the gristly surgery. The Queen, she had saved her, saved her voice, saved her life. Had she not?

Niarra soon realized, no, the Queen was no friend. Had not saved the girl for the sake of sparing her life. NO. She had come, at just that right moment, to claim the Siren. To use her. To enslave her. For her own gains.

That had been 8 seasons now, she having just turned 20 seasons old.

8 springs she did not see the flowers in bloom. 8 summers where she never felt the heat of the sun. 8 autumns where she never saw the outburst of colors on the trees. 8 winters where she saw no snow, felt no chill. 8 seasons, she spent chained in the dungeon of the Queen.
8 seasons she spent the majority of her time, mute, quiet. In the dark, the chill. She wondered if she would ever be warm again. Would she ever breath fresh air again. Why would she not sing to escape? Could she not enchant, ensnare the guards to do exactly that?

The reason was simple. Her younger brother. In exchange for her .... cooperation.... her younger brother was allowed to survive, and even thrive, in the service of that very same Queen. He thought his sister dead. No longer did he recognize the girl from the depths of the dungeon. For him, she remained enslaved, remained quiet. For him.

She was brought forth from the dungeon when.. requested. She sang, when forced. Her voice had been used to charm, captivate, capture, torture, even kill. From one to several, to entire armies, as the Queen demanded. She did it for her younger brother.

Until word reached her, mistakenly reached her, that her brother had been killed, in a knife fight, over a girl. He was only 16. That had been 2 seasons ago. And only now, NOW, did she find out, again mistakenly.

Utter despair gripped her. Niarra cried.. cried for the love of a brother that never knew she lived. Cried for the freedom she had been denied. Cried for her soul. She cried, and then, she sang......

It was late, so very late... and the song that graced her lips, that slowly began to fill the cell, to glide into the depths of the dungeon that had been her home, was soft, a lullabye, yes, that was what it was, a lullabye.... The guards did not stand a chance. The song enticed, captivated, easily ensnaring the weak minds of the men who stood to keep her enslaved. Her thoughts traveled along that lilting chain of her voice... "free me"..... "free me".... the key in the lock, the door opening, she was gone moments later. "you will sleep, if you awaken before sunrise, you will slay one another" the thought planted, by the song her voice sang.

She knew the way out well. She had always known. Just in case, just in case this day would come. Niarra was weakened, pale, her body still bore the scars of punishment, of subservience. But she was strong enough to get out of there, into the "light of day" so to speak, even tho in reality, it was the middle of the night, the darkness almost all encompassing. But, it was fresh air, and she was free of the chains that had bound her.

She... was ... free....

But freedom had it's own.... issues.

She had no where to go. And Niarra was not stupid by any means. Once the Queen figured she was gone, she would.. well... look for her.

Her first thought was to get as far away from the Castle and the Queen, and whoever she sent searching for her, as she could. She had the advantage of time right now. No one knew she was gone. It was the middle of the night. They would not discover the guards until daybreak more than likely. She had to make the most of this particular advantage.

She considered stealing a horse, but that would just attract more attention, and she could easily get caught. No, she needed to travel on foot, it was that simple.

Of course that had it's own dangers. Not just the fact she would have to be aware of animals, dragons, trolls, goblins, and whatever ilk of predator inhabited the thick woods that surrounded the town, and the castle, and the miles of lands the Queen owned. She had to be aware of people, guards, mercenaries, soldiers, slavers, and she, she was a nearly naked young female.

But, her first order of business was to get as far away as she could in the darkness and then get a plan in her head. Where she would go, how to get clothing, food, etc.

Many hours later, just before the sun began it's rise in the eastern sky, Niarra stood before a small hut. It was nothing more than one small abode, one room, poorly maintained. She wondered where the owner was. It looked to have be empty. Perhaps they were hunting, or had gone to the market n the nearby town. Perhaps they were dead. The place was dirty, dusty, and there was no real food to be had. They were poor, whoever they were. But it was not food she was looking for, even tho her belly was empty. It was clothing, and hopefully some sort of weapon.

She found clothing, and luckily it was men's clothing. Looked to be for a young man, it would work perfectly. A pair of brown pants, and a deep green tunic. And a pair of very worn boots. Again, it would work. The pants fit fairly well, they were obviously for a younger boy perhaps, the tunic was a big on her, but she tied it at the waist with a scrap of leather, and it was fine. It hid her curves well. The pants she tucked into the boots. There was no weapon to be found, except a small knife used for whittling wood of all things. But it would work for what she wanted to do. Minutes later, and her long, auburn hair was cut short. With a sad sigh, she looked at herself in the reflection of a nearby puddle. She now looked more like a scraggely boy. That, would work out well.

And with that, she headed back out into the now daylight. She needed to find food, before she could go any further. Perhaps the next town or village would have a market place. Not that she had coin, but she could... entice... a few her way if needed.



The Siren. Niarra:

 

[BehaviorMod]

The Knight Commander and six of his best men had ridden from the Queens castle in persuit of the escapee. A girl. The prisoner was said to be no older than 20 years old, a mere child. With long reddish hair and the body of a female farther into womanhood than her age should suggest. She couldn't have made it very far, for she wore practically nothing to protect her from the elements, or those of lesser intentions that would prey upon her.

Ser Jorgen lead his men down the road until they came to a small trading village. The Queen allowed it's continued existance because it brought goods from all over, and trade was a valued asset. "Illan, John, Torwin; check all the establishments and dwellings. If she's here, she'll need rest by now. A weak girl like her couldn't keep going for long." The commander pointed his men towards the homes. "Kellin, Gurwault, Tosh; with me. Let's see if the traders know anything." Jorgen steered the other three men towards the various stalls and carts set up to house the goods on display.

They went one by one, questioning the vendors and traders; to little effect. Jorgen was a few stalls away from an apple cart when a slender form found his eyes; the deep green of the tunic catching his attention from the corner of his eye. He glanced over to see it was a boy, with short brownish hair, his back turned to the knights. Jorgen returned his attention to the stall owner until he saw the boy take off, an apple in his hands. He immediately gave chase.

"Stop, boy! In the name of the Queen, halt!" He ran after the boy, and caught him by the wrist a moment later, dragging him back to the apple cart and wrenching the apple from his grasp. His face was covered in dirt, possibly mud, and fear was in his dark brown eyes. "You know, boy, you have to pay for your food. Do you know what the Queen does to little urchins like you? Got anything else hidden in this tunic?" Jorgen had moved to open up the tunic and check for anything else the thief might have stuffed in the loose folds when the owner stopped him.

"Ser! He did pay; see? He'd paid quite a few moments ago and was having his pick of the apples. This is no theif." The owner of the apple cart pleaded, not wanting to see another hand severed from an innocent arm this week.

"Fine...but I'm taking the apple you so generously paid for; for making me chase you. Father should have taught ya not to run from a Knight." Jorgen smirked and released the boys wrist, flicking it back so hard it sent him to the ground. "Go back home, kid, for I change my mind." He turned and got back on his horse, apple in hand and joined his men.
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"Smart girl. She knew they'd follow to the next village. Took off through here." Jun was knelt down in some muddy tracks on the main road. The Knights horses had come through here maybe 30 minutes past and they were still fresh. The mud from the day pasts' rains starting to dry. Jun was a hunter, a tracker; however, and very little elluded him.

The girl had come this way, down the road until the spot he had reached now. Then she decidedly went off the path and into the woods. Jun followed. The mud and dirt from the road didn't stretch into the woods, so he couldn't follow her tracks. He had to follow her wake. Here and there Jun could see a twig that had snapped underfoot, or a branch left broken and hanging from it's tree as she walked past. These were the tracks he followed now. Tracks that led him to a small hut. He could smell the scent of food cooking and voices comming from inside. Jun drew a small dagger in one hand, a short blade in the other; and proceeded.

The girl had come to this hut, and wiether or not the occupants cooperated with him or not; he'd get information out of them. Even corpses could tell stories.

 

[RainingHeat]

"How much for an apple" She had asked, keeping her voice as low as she could. She did not want to sound female, she wanted to sound perhaps like a young male. She did not want to "try" too hard, because then it would sound very fake, and draw attention to herself. That was the last thing she wanted to do.

"please sir"

The vendor had been having a good day, actually, so he gave the kid, obviously a boy living on the street, poor thing, a break. "Just a copper"

Niarra smiled. She had that. After handing the coin over, dirty fingers drawing back.. she had been careful to dirty up both her hands and face. It certainly would not look proper if she had clean, feminine hands, now would it.

"Take your pick"

She hoped to find a large, deep red one. She was hungry, she could not remember the last time she had tasted an apple, a fresh picked apple. Niarra had made her choice when she heard the heavy hoofbeats of a horse approaching, the more than familiar rustle of armor as the Knight slid from the animal. She took a careful sidelong glance, it was one of the Queen's men.

She panicked, taking off in a mad dash for freedom. Please... please, she begged silently, don't let them catch me. Please.

"Stop, boy! In the name of the Queen, halt!"

But, she was not fast enough, and this Knight was too fast, too agile, a large hand, thick fingers, grabbing a slender wrist.... caught!!!!

"No.... noooo" her struggling did nothing, he barely even noticed, which in reality was a good thing. He had not even really taken a look at the "boy" he had caught, and that was what had saved her. At least for the moment... until...

"You know, boy, you have to pay for your food. Do you know what the Queen does to little urchins like you? Got anything else hidden in this tunic?"

Hidden??? In the.... ????? Her eyes went wide, if he reached in, if he ripped it from her... He... he would find out!!!

"No... DON"T"

She did not want to have to sing here. There were too many people. Too many people she would hurt.

"Ser! He did pay... see? He'd paid quite a few moments ago and was having his pick of the apples. This is no theif."

Thank the GODS the vendor spoke up.

"Fine...but I'm taking the apple you so generously paid for; for making me chase you. Father should have taught ya not to run from a Knight."

Niarra was sent sprawling to the dirt when he released her. But at least, he released her. Yeah, he was larger, stronger, faster than the "boy", but he had no more brains in that head of his than a bag of rocks. Which was a good thing for her.

"Go back home, kid, for I change my mind." He turned and got back on his horse, apple in hand and joined his men.

"yes Sir... yes Sir"

Damnit. A deep sigh. And she had been so hungry.

Climbing slowly to her feet, Niarra cast a look to the vendor before turning to go. She had another copper or 2 left, but she could not afford to spend another on an apple. She just could not. As she took a step away, she felt a tap on her shoulder. Turning, it was the vendor, another deep crimson apple in his hand. "go" he said, shooing the kid away. He always felt so bad for some of the orphans. This one was no different.

Niarra smiled. "Thank you so much kind sir" she bowed, her own apple now in hand, and disappeared into the bustling crowd.

She was heading toward the coast. That was her plan. To get to one of the port cities, and get on a ship. She cared not where it was going, but the further away from here, the better. But, for now, she needed to find a place to sleep. A safe place to sleep. She had no coin for a room, and even if she did, they would be suspicious of one as young as she, paying for a room. If they figured her female, there was a good chance she would wake up being raped by the Tavern Owner, or someone he had been paid to let into her room. If they thought her male, she would be safer, but again, she/he would be expected to take advantage and pay for, the local female entertainment. No, there would be no room, no soft bed, in her future. Not for a while.

The apple long since enjoyed, she found herself behind a Holy Place, used for worship. Leaning to the wall, as the sun set yet again, Niarra fell asleep. She had to wonder how long it would take her to get to the coast, she had no real idea how far it was, only that it was west. And it was west that she was heading.

 

[BehaviorMod]

Jun had left the shack a few hours after arriving; wiping the blood from his blades before sliding them back into their seathes. He had taken the information he needed from them, taken the information before he'd taken their lives. The man; a woodworker, fell first. Then the young man, and finally the woman. He didn't take their lives out of spite, he took them out of nessecity. He killed because he was ordered to kill, he killed because he was bound to serve the Queen; or risk loosing the only family he had remaining that was under her protection.

The family he had just slain hadn't prooved entirely useless. He learned from them and the place they dwelt in that the girl had, indeed, come this way. She had stolen a pair of clothes from the young man and chopped off a good portion of her hair. Jun had found the locks of hair on the floor of the home. He was no longer looking for a young girl with womanly curves and long aubern hair; he was looking for a 'boy' now. Which was in his favor, because the Queens guard had no idea she had changed her appearance. The ignorant Knights that they were, they'd probably pass her up in broad daylight and not even realize.

He followed her trail back to the road and to the next village; a traders village. The sun was going down now and he had very little time remaining of sunlight. He could track during the night too, however, under the moon; and that worked in his favor. He began his trek out of the village and to the west after acquiring information on the 'boy'. It seems she was heading towards the coast. Perhaps to Theralsian to catch a ship. Was there method to her route? Or was she simply going wherever she could go? Surely, with no one left alive outside of the Queens castle that would still know her; the girls path was erratic. Who would save her? Who could save her?

Jun Rhenor juggled these thoughts through his mind as he continued on. It had been just past a night's half cycle when Jun found a Temple. A Holy Place that worshiped the Ancient Gods, some that even Jun prayed to. A Temple that had been abandoned once the Queen arrived and forbid the worship of anyone or thing that was not her. Her reasoning was simple. If their Gods had allowed her to ravage their lands and so easily take their kingdom without so much as putting up a fight, then they were no Gods worth worshiping and that they should; instead, worship her reign and her power.

It was as he circled around this old stone building that he saw her, curled and leaned against a wall. Jun unseathed a small dagger at his hip, a straight blade that had wicked serrated teeth on the edge; and crept towards the girl. His feet falling like whispers and his breath non existant. He was upon her in no time; pressing the blade to her throat and covering her mouth with his free hand. "Quiet, girl. There's no one around this empty Temple that'd hear you anyway."

She struggled, she kicked, she writhed and squirmed under Jun's strong arms; threatening to pull his hand from her mouth so she could let out her song, but Jun persisted. Even without her exhaustion and lack of nourishment from her years of inprisonment; he was stronger than her. Her waning strength simply helped the matter. "You've caused the Queen much grief with this little escape of yours." He spoke into her ear as he dragged her from behind the Temple and into it's barren halls.

"I've half a mind to rid you both of your grief and end your suffering right here.....but that would work out poorly for me; for my sister." Jun had stripped her of the stolen clothes and tied her to a large, wide pillar near the main altar of the Temple with a length of rope; binding her hands behind her in the process and always making sure she couldn't let her voice out. When he was finished, all but her legs were secured to the stone. He was unsure what a weak girl like her was capable of aside from her voice; so he saw no harm in allowing her feet freedom.

He glanced upon her when he was finished. Her frame now only covered by the thin, cotton she'd been wearing before. Her body was certainly curvy and swollen in the proper places; but that was part of her charm, part of her gift. He knew better than to let himself be lured in by her body, a body that might make him inadvertantly release her. He'd like to of had a talk with her, too; to hear her story and how she escaped. In all his years in the Queen's service; he'd never spoken to the girl. She was never allowed TO speak unless using her gift.

"I'm sorry, girl; for how things have to be. This is the way of the Queen, however. No one escapes her. Try and rest; I'll be taking you back, forcefully if I have to, in the morning." Jun walked to the other side of the pillar he'd tied the Siren to and sat down, bracing his back against it for support as he began to drift to sleep.