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| - In her early years, Ariysen Sauventrine wandered the city of Stromguarde-- her home. Though she was forbidden to do such, her curiosity, like most times, got the best of her. She lavished at the splendor of the ostentatious kingdom and spent nearly all her day rooted in front of it, her imagination driving her to impossible dreams and hopes. The vicinity was huge, and filled with possibilities. Of course there was-- until the invasion. Ariysen was suddenly aroused by the thunderous march approaching the skirts of Stromguarde, boots ominously hitting the ground in unison. The priestess peered outside her window above her, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes with the heel of her hand. Though her vision still blurred, her prediction was confirmed by the army of figures spilling out from beneath the bridge, scimitars, daggers, bludgeons, maces, whips and even the odd staff in hand. Comprehension overwhelmed her accompanied along by fear. Behind the army of Syndicate wsa a group of ogres and Witherbark trolls stalking close behind, their eyes maliciously and threateningly scoping the area. With her cheek pressed up against the window, she couldn't calculate their true amount, nor could she realize if there were Knights on the other side of the Syndicate confluence. Ariysen shrunk back in revulsion, taking another look at the... things gathered in front of Stromgarde-- her home. She appraised the Syndicate's primitive sneers, their heavily armed bodies and their masks. She understood the way their hands were raised, and could hear the muffled shouts of propositions from beneath their ebon coloured masks. The ogres had their fists at their sides, snarling and mumbling incoherently. They were simply vacuous. But what did you expect? They were ogres. Though the things that frightened her the most were the trolls. They were hideously prognathous and horrid looking. Their faces held large grins, causing wrinkles in their cheeks to extend up so high, you could barely see their eyes. Ariysen ran down into the kitchen where her parents were supposed to be gathered. They weren't. Her breathing began to quicken, though the rapid pounding of her heart was even faster-- if that was even remotely possible. Bolting into the next room,her breath caught in her throat. In the corner of the room, two Syndicate hovered over her mother lying either unconscious or dead on the floor-- she truly didn't want to look. They peered over their shoulder, wickedly lecherous grins smeared on their faces. The one farthest from her nodded to the other. Once signaled, the man got up and approached Ariysen. With an ear piercing scream, she was hoisted into the air, struggling with all her might to be released. That is, of course, until she was knocked unconscious by the rump of the man's sword. "I still got the bump on my head, if you wanna see." For what seemed like centuries, Ariysen developed into an adolescent, but also their most valued captive for reasons she knew not. Occasionally she would accompany the men to meetings or events they attended, simply to serve as eye candy for others. The pirestess refused to show them insight to her dreadful misery and overtime, for most of the day her face was a calm exterior-- which would constantly serve as a mask-- betraying not even a hint of emotion. Men, ogres and trolls would hold high disdain for her, sneering and leering and hooting at her whenever she was released from her cell. It was obvious the contempt they hold for her and reluctance at... well, keeping her alive. This wasn't how it was supposed to be, she thought. At the lone years of seventeen, her gray eyes held a glistening, elderly maturity despite her age. There were other girls among her, but she would have barely more than zero contact with any of them. Some would give her nods of reassurance, and others wouldn't even acknowledge her existence. She wished the men would treat her the same. But slowly and reluctantly, she was realizing what she wanted wasn't relevent to practically anything. "Get in here, woman!" Redd called, the cell supervisor-- her personal problem. Ariysen drew in a barely audible breath, rolling her shoulders. She strode easily up the stairwell, running her nimble fingers along the black, dank stone walls. "Master Redd?" The young priestess met his copper gaze cooly, clasping her hands in front of her. Before she could even think about what he was doing, Redd flicked his hand at the other guards beside the door-- the ones Ariysen hadn't yet seen. She hadn't been in the room long enough to scan it fully. Being lifted into the air, she gasped with sudden struggle. Yelling of protest, they began to carry her toward a large wooden platform oddly deserted. "Put me down, you hideous brutes!" she screamed. The two guards erupted with laughter, throwing their heads back with thrill. They weren't laughing at her command, but with the lust that soon, her blood would be spattered over their faces... and they would get to taste the liquid of their latest masterpiece. With the way her arms were twisted and bound inclemently behind her back, she wouldn't doubt that they would soon have their wish. Sighing, she simply went slack; allowing them to drag her onto the platform easier than she planned. It's not like things were going to suddenly turn up. But oddly, it did. "Somewhat." A single reluctant tear escaped from her tightly shut eye, creating a thin trail down her cheek. She drew in a breath, refusing to allow another to fall. Where is Redd? she thought. What are they waiting for? Distant footsteps walking towards the group sent a shiver up her spine. She recognized those footsteps-- she had heard them constantly when Redd visited her cell to taunt her. Groping fingers of dread tore at her inside, begging for Ariysen to do something. But what was there to do? Ariysen could feel the rage, the sadness, the frustration bottled in the pit of her stomach, soliciting her to recieve proper vengeance. It was time she listened. Ariysen began extracting all the feelings from the pit of her stomach out into her fingers, conjuring a foreign spell she didn't know she could even create. She could feel the shadow energy sizzling throughout her body, searing in and out of her fingers. It was completely silent as Redd approached her with a wicked smirk, his blade glinting in the searing hot sunlight. His foot was rapidly thrown forward, kicking her stomach and caused her to double over. But she didn't need to see him-- Ariysen could feel his cold aura reflecting off his body and knew exactly where he was. Redd's blade lifting into the air, preparing for the beheading strike down on her neck. With a pulse of power, she blew a full blast of shadow into the cell supervisor, the energy crackling and sizzling through his flesh and rupturing bones by the second. The guards yanked their hands back, releasing their death grip on her arms with a startled yell. The two Syndicate guards exchanged shocked looks, which quickly transformed into stares of hard resolve. With a growl of rage gurgling in their throats, they began to charge for her. Ariysen allowed the shadow to slip out of her grasp and into the two men's bodies at once, ripping at their flesh the same as Redd's. As she began striding away, she could hear their whimpers, pleading for strength. Well, that was that.
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