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Recon and Memories; ~Open~
Topic Started: Apr 23 2007, 04:42 AM (175 Views)
Emma Shaw
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Black Widow Priestess :: High Priestess of Pruul :: First Circle
Rose - Opal
“But father, why?” She raged out as she packed all her things in the bags that where thrown around her room. “I didn’t do anything.” She yelled at the man that stood at her doorway fighting to keep his own emotions in check.

“Because she can that is why.” He said to her in a controlled voice, “If you could have just kept your mouth shut this wouldn’t have happened.” He yelled back at her with controlled anger in his, “How many times did I tell you that you had to be carefully about what you say around other people.” And with that simple statement, he walked out of the room.

She screamed as she picked up a chair and with a flash of her Rose threw it across the room. She watched the chair as smashed up against the wall with eyes that betrayed her feelings inside. She hated Hayll; she hated the life that she was living; she hated the fact that she was being forced to leave. More importantly, she hated the feeling of hopelessness that she was feeling at the moment. She was a weak jeweled witch with no social standing, and a bastard, an unwanted child. Or at least that was what she was to her mother. Her father however, had never treated her that way, until that moment, that is. Taking a deep breath, the woman tried to control the feelings that where strangling her, but she couldn’t so she screamed again and released the pent up power that was in her Rose jewel scorching the walls and the floor around her.

“How dare they do this too you,” her mind raged as it was someone else in the room. “You are a talented Black Widow, they have no right to treat you like dirty.” It told her with a voice so much like her own, and yet so different, so angry, so hurtful. But it was right, they had know right to do this too her. Rolling her shoulders back, the woman looked around her room and took one last look at the life that she had lived, and then walked out the door into her future. There she could make sure that no one would ever have that sort of power of her again.


Emma Shaw gripped the shot glass in her hand as her mind replayed the last memory that she had of Hayll. Man she hated her father for being a weak minded fool, for caving in and allowing his Darkness forsaken wife to kick her to the curve. Laying her glass down once more, she nodded to the barkeep to fill it once more. Maybe in a drink or two would help chase the memory away and she might be able to do what she came here to do. She was requested by her Queen to look in at the newly rising star in Hayll. She would do her duty, and do it well… but she didn’t have to like it.

Leaning back into her chair, the young Black Widow Priestess suppressed a soft growl as she looked about the tavern and began to work her magic through out the place. She needed to be able to hear the various conversations through out the small bar. Information gathering was how she survived the many years on the street, so this little spell has become almost as natural as breathing. Once it was set, the young Opal jewel woman picked up her drink and drank it down.
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Damian Troy
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Black Widow Warlord Prince :: Ruler of Hayll
Green - Red
Damian Troy wasn’t one afraid to be among the commoners. He had been raised an Aristo, a cruel bastard of a man. He had been raised to be his father’s weapon, his tool. But instant this Warlord Prince left with his mother. His mother worked on him, never giving up hope that her boy would one day turn out differently from his father. It had taken years, decades for Damian to turn away and ‘face’ the light. He was in some ways a new man, in old ways he was the same cruel bastard.

He ran a hand though his shaggy black hair before signally to the barmaid to bring him a tankard. This was one of his favorite places; he came here as often as he could. His Master of the Guard, a young Pruulian stand beside him, his hawk-like eyes missing nothing. Damian had met the warlord prince as a boy, and had kept an eye on the growing lad. Damian was rarely wrong about a person; it helped to be a strong, talented Black Widow. Dan had walked away with a Green and proved to be a powerful force in Damian’s triangle.

Damian’s golden gaze wandered the room; he knew most of the people in the tavern. His eyes focused in on a young black widow. He hadn’t seen her before. She looked like she had a temper. Damian couldn’t help the suddenly attraction he felt, she was pretty with a descent jewel and a strong caste. He wouldn't go after her. He was just simply a male who liked women. But who was she?

He felt her black widow’s craft flare and he narrowed his gaze, watching her closely. He didn’t think it was harmful, but he would do anything to protect his friends. He watched her for a moment longer before slowly spreading out his black widow craft. This place was full of his webs, it was easy. If she tried anything, she wouldn’t walk out of here alive. He sure prayed she didn’t try anything stupid; he would hate to kill such a pretty thing.
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