Allye
| Allye | |
|---|---|
| Status | |
| Race | Prydaen |
| Gender | Female |
| Guild | Empath |
| Instance | Prime |
| Relatives | Akariss, Synamon |
Description
You see Alley Fighter Allye Shhoiyvvhur'Slo, a Prydaen.
She has a square face, pointed ears and cat-slitted turquoise eyes. Her black mane is very long and wavy, and is worn coiled in an upswept twist. She has tawny fur and a curving tail.
She is a bit over average height for a Prydaen.
She appears to be a bird-hunter.
She is in good shape.
She is wearing a lightweight black nightsilk shawl draped over the arms, a gold-stemmed pin topped with a carved amber rosebud, a pale golden gossamer gown with an amber spidersilk shift, a twisted bronze and copper ring and a pair of carmine silk slippers adorned with gleaming amber beadwork.
Story
The wet planks below his feet lurched dangerously, causing barrels and passengers alike to careen from one end of the ship to the other. Chill drops of rain beat down upon them, piercing the sheer cloaks of the huddled refugees as they clung to the railings and masts of the vessel. Through the dark mist, his experienced eyes noticed a shadow, heavy upon the roiling sea off the starboard side. Scaling the mast with a practiced swoop, a closer look left his features tightened in frustration. Heaving alongside the ship was a dilapidated schooner, its peeling red paint visible even through the coarse, icy rain.
With a hoarse shout to the captain, he pointed a claw towards the approaching schooner. A series of low whistles signaled the violent cascade of grappling hooks, tangling in the rigging and rails of the cog. With screams and a general murmur of shock, the passengers along the starboard side shuffled backwards, some losing their balance and sliding overboard into the violently churning sea. He ran to the railing and over the edge saw a rowboat of men, already climbing the sturdy lines tied to the lodged grappling hooks. Stepping back to draw out a heavy curved blade, he brought it down upon the railing, severing a number of ropes and sending two of the men into the treacherous waters.
He settled himself into a ready stance as the remaining men swung over the aft railing and drew their weapons. Around him, the captain shouted frantic orders to the beleaguered crew, wielding his own steel scimitar. A number of passengers too rose to fight, stumbling on the unsteady deck.
Rushing into the crowd, the pirates slaughtered indiscriminately. He charged forward upon limber legs, sinking his blade deep into the abdomen of one of the men, as more climbed over the railing. Beside him, a tall Prydaen man slashed his claws roughly across a man's chest, ripping through cloth, skin and sinew.
Nearby, a broad-chested pirate smirked while lunging a heavy spiked mace into a cornered group of refugees, crushing the ribs of one and sweeping others overboard. Tracing an intricate sigil in the air with a steady scaled hand, he focused intently upon the pirate. A single bolt of jagged lightning streaked towards the man, at once incinerating his head as he tumbled over the railing and into the sea.
One by one, bodies fell to the slick planks below, the blood of pirate, crew and passenger spilling onto the deck like the wrathful rain. Finally, the few remaining pirates dashed back over the railing, sliding down the slippery ropes into their rowboat, their prize no longer worth the cost. As the schooner pulled up its anchor and edged away from the battered cog, he grimly surveyed the devastation it had wrought.
He toiled with the thinned crew, tending to the injured and searching for survivors among the piles of bloody, lifeless bodies. As they worked, the storm began to clear, leaving in its wake a dull, misty drizzle. Huddled in a corner, he found the body of a Prydaen woman, hunched over and face down. A deep gash struck across her back stained her airy blue mra'sin with a splash of crimson, its severity eliminating the need to see if she breathed.
Walking away, he heard a soft whimper behind him. Turning back to the woman, he wondered incredulously how anyone could survive such a wound. Reaching her side, he knelt and gently held her shoulders, turning her limp body to face him. A deep nick in the woman's ear was the source of a trail of bloody, matted fur along the side of her face. Her piercing turquoise eyes stared out mutely, glassy and unmoving. She was not alive.
As he began to return her to her resting place, one of the dead woman's arms fell to her side. Cradled in her other arm was a small child, not two years old. Bearing the same vibrant turquoise eyes of her mother, the child squirmed uncomfortably and covered her face with small hands. He reached hesitantly towards the girl, lifting her into his arms.
Notes
- Daughter of Akariss, sister to Synamon. She was adopted in the year 372, around the age of 2. She spent most of her formative years in Arthe Dale and Crossing.
- Has crafted extensive plans to one day own a bakery on the Village Green at the center of the Berry Knolls.
- Current Events Coordinator, Vice Speaker and former Speaker of the Order of the Apostles.
- May share brain parts with Synamon. Together with Synamon seeks to create an army of Gnomes (aka The Gnarmy), the likes of which has never before been seen in Elanthia. The original recruitment strategy of kidnapping was scrapped after discovery that most potentials could be bribed with meat and/or candy (so please do not send them angry letters, thank you).
- She often works out of the back room of Orielda's flower shop while in Crossing. When in Shard, she rents the Rose Room of Milene's Rose. While in Hib, she spends most of her time pestering Dagreth.
- President, Founder, and possibly sole member of the Salvur Siksa fan club.
- Frontwoman for the Elanthian pop group sensation, Allye and the Howling Alley Cats. Soon to be performing in a back alley near you!
- Has mild to moderate gweth anxiety.
Related Links
- Allye's Little Book (TOP SECRET, DO NOT READ!)
- The Order of the Apostles (Official website and forums.)