Journey Into the North

(Thank you Grif, for introducing my character! By the way, is this a fire-breathing dragon?)

Carmenia tore a a piece of cloth from her pants and pressed it against a man's, whose name she found out was Henry, wound.

Suddenly Carmenia's eyes widened. A dragon. It was huge, covering the sun and casting an eerie shadow over the gory battlefield. As the immense beast with bat-like wings flew towards them, time froze, and everyone, goblins included, looked in utter terror at the flying creature.

The beast let out a terrifying screech and everyone ran for cover or some sort of shelter. Though the screams of terrified beings, she managed to hear her a Gryphon shout something.

Dragging the heavy, and almost unconscious Henry, towards the Gyphon proved almost impossible.

Help. She needed help. Screaming as loud as she could, she shouted for aid, though she doubted it was possible they could hear her.

The elf woman was struggling with the fallen Henry.

Damn--think fast, Belfast--or we're all dead.

I rushed over to the maiden and scooped Henry out of her arms.

"Get to the cavern--GO!" I hissed to her; I didn't need to stress the near panic in my voice. Straining under the eight of the unconscious man, I staggered over to the waiting Alden and Slung Henry over his back.

"Don't drop him, Alden--he does not deserve a death at the hands of this beast."

The gryphon nodded and began to run toward the mouth of the cave.

"TO ME!" I bellowed, raising my sword high above my head. Apparently, the dragon heard. The heads of my companions turned to me, but my eyes were on the dragon. It wasn't particularly large, or very old, by the looks of it. That is to say, it might just have been able to eat myself and Henry, rather than myself, Henry, Alden, and Finn.

"Get to the caves! I'll follow!" I hissed to the others, who were staring at me like I was the village idiot.

I didn't waste time contemplating the fact that a dragon, one of the rarest of mystical creatures, had spun around in mid air and was descending down upon me in what looked to be a strafing run--I merely reacted. I dug my heels into the soft dirt, raised my shield to eye level, and held my sword behind me--I would get one chance, and one alone to strike the beast. Even that was a generous estimate.

Eighty paces and closing fast. I looked away from the dragon for only a instant. Caught Finn's eye somehow. Looked away. Sixty paces. Forty. Twenty--the thing breathed, and all I saw was inferno.

PLACEHOLDER! NO BODY MOVE! KEEP THOSE TYPING FINGERS IN THE AIR!!

Ahem. I have something planned here. Back up.

OOC: Last I checked it was night, and although somehow it magically changed into day, it has returned to that here.

***

Cyrus picked himself up, largely unnoticed in the commotion. He was exhausted, his body ached and his eyes were gritty. A quick survey told him all he needed to know as wrenched his blade from the priest's body: his friends were free, if embattled, the goblin force was largely reduced and the group was reunited once more, if with an extra companion or two. All of which was good information and would have made him happy if he hadnt heard a familiar bugle of rage sound out.

A dragon! HIs eyes widened. What could one be doing here, so far from their favoured skies and caverns? His question went unanswered as his attention was averted by Seraph rushing toward the cave, screaming. Whatever he was saying was swamped by a roar of flickering blue flame. Seraph dived to the ground screaming inarticulately. Cyrus rushed forward, desperation pumping through him; all he could do was thank the gods that the dragon had had the foresight to send merely a warning flare--it would do nothing but warm Seraph, although encased as he was in armour that might be enough to do him in.

Reaching the outside of the cave, he stared up at the terrifying, awe inspiring sight of a dragon swooping down. It gleamed a brilliant red in the night, massive maw opening to reveal a sparkling array of death. Cyrus was trembling, his muscles were screaming, his lungs labouring; he had to plumb heretofore unknown reserves merely to lift his axe high and shout:

Lilanther, morane! Anwe rea wear ana!

Peace, friend! We are one with you!

Its mouth clamped shut and immediately its wings snapped outward halting its hurtling progress and flattening the dwarf to the ground. "NO BODY MOVE!" He screamed, forewarning his companions. The ground shook as the dragon slammed into the ground. Its massive head snaked forward to loom over Cyrus.

"Little Brother, I did not see you." Its mind voice boomed into his head, soothing and feminine. Which, if anything, only served to put him more on his guard. "Why are you among the enemy?" She asked, steel in her voice.

"I, and my companions, were in the process of defeating them." He said out loud, for the sake of his friends. "We are NOT among the enemy." He shouted indignantly.

"Oh? Then why did the toy soldier" -- here she flicked a giant paw dismissively at Seraph's moaning body -- "react so, in response to my presence?"

Cyrus licked his lips. Despite the ancient bond between Dwarf and Dragon, it was clear that this young one was getting impatient. "Sister please, how else was he meant to act, in the middle of a battle one assumes all are his enemy or one will not last long. He was only trying to protect his friends."
The dragon sniffed, obviously skeptical. Desperate, he told her of their mission and explained what had happened so far. Thank the gods she seemed inclined to reason; if it had been a male they were facing, all would have been lost. "And besides," he added quickly. "What are you doing so far from your favoured skies and caverns?" He said, eyes narrowed.

he dragon shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. "I am on a mission from the Queen. We are aware of the situation."

Cyrus' eyebrows shot up at this. "Since when do the mighty dragons interfere in the actions of men?"

"Never! I ... wasn't meant to interfere." She gave a mental sigh. "Merely watch and report back...

Unsaid, the sentence hung between them: But I lost control.

"I certainly wouldn't have acted so had I known a son of the mountains was here. But you were with the enemy" She said defensively.

"What now?" Cyrus asked wearily.

"Well I was kind of thinking I'd eat that tasty looking bear." She replied, tongue flicking out.

He glanced over to where Ursa sat, quivering. "Go ahead," he said shortly.

"I would, if the news I have was any less urgent. The Queen must know immediately. Fear not, little brother, this ... incident shall not occur again." She promised. "Carve well," she said in farewell.

"Fly well, Daughter of the Skies," he returned.

With a parting glance at Ursa, the she dragon turned, took a run, and leapt into the night sky. For a moment all remained frozen, then they all rushed forward, yelling, demanding, questioning, and all to no avail for exhaustion had claimed its toll: Cyrus was asleep.

"He has a lot of explaining to do." someone said over his body. "Still, at least the Goblins are all gone."

I pulled myself into a seated position, cursing my reaction to the Dragon Fear. A dragon's presence was nothing to scoff at, but I should have been prepared for it; should have faced my destiny as a Templar of Falthyr. If I had been just, my life would have been spared by the grace of Falthyr--if not, then I would have deserved the death.

The others had mostly gathered around Cyrus, and with good reason. He had communicated with the dragon, and somehow sent it away. Even then, the dragon was soaring off into the distance. This was the strangest thing I could recall seeing (perhaps with the exception of Croak, the intriguing frog man); a dragon on the side of good. In my land, of the Blood Plains...the only dragons we saw were out for blood. Drakekin were common enough...but full fledged dragons were nearly unheard of anymore.

Alden was still standing at the mouth of the cave, looking very nervous. He knew, as well as I, that the appearance of a single dragon was uncommon at best; more would come.

Then Finn was beside me.

"Ye alrigh'?" she asked. I nodded mutely, not needing to express how I felt about being attacked by a dragon. There was a moment of silence, then I felt a hand drop onto my shoulder. She walked toward Cyrus and the others soon after. I kept my gaze on the dragon, growing steadily smaller in the distance.

Suddenly, a bright ball of flame streaked past the beast. It pulled up in mid air, stopping to avoid the thing. Its roar of outrage could be heard even from our position.

My eyes narrowed as a second ball of flame collided with the dragon's stomach. This time, it was a cry of fear and pain that issued from its gaping maw.

What was powerful enough that it could make a dragon feel pain so keenly? Whatever it was...I was not about to battle it--the origin of the flames was too close for comfort.

I quickly climbed to my feet. The dragon had reversed directions and was flying back toward us. When the dragon took a second hit and faltered mid flight, I knew something was horribly wrong. It was flying directly toward us as more of the balls of fire streaked past it, some connecting, some not.

Seconds later, Cyrus awoke with a start and a yell. Valin and the female newcomer winced and looked to the sky, as did Tan'Quin.

Valin turned his gaze to me as I looked to him in confusion.

"We need to go. Now," was all he offered in explanation. "GET TO THE CAVES!" he shouted to the rest of the group. Tan'Quin immediately set to pulling Sirloaz and Finn toward the mouth of the cave. As I turned my gaze that way, I saw Alden already hurrying into the darkness, Henry perched precariously on his back.

The paladin had taken to helping Cyrus walk, despite the dwarf's insistence that he could walk himself. The bear looked confused, but evidently decided that Alden knew best, and lumbered after him. Valin and the elf woman rushed madly to the mouth of the cave, as though they had seen the end of the world before them.

The dragon was directly over us now. Out of nowhere, a ball of fire struck it squarely in the neck. It screeched horribly, faltered, flapped its wings clumsily, faltered again, then plummeted toward the mountain side. It was then that I saw the outcome of this. Too late. The dragon hit the mountain side, which exploded in a shower of rubble. The ensuing rock slide threatened to seal the only entrance to the caverns available to us.

I looked around frantically, taking a headcount to make sure all were accounted for before sprinting to the cave. I prayed to Falthyr I could cover the 20 paces it would take to reach the mouth before it sealed.

The party was staring back at me, most of them shouting encouragement, others silently staring.

I crossed the threshold of the cave just as a small boulder smashed into my back. All went dark.

The sheer stupidity—of the people around me, as well as of the situation itself—was enough to stagger me. First Seraph went and pulled some half-aborted heroic stunt that got him half-roasted in return; then Cyrus collapsed and everyone went to gawk at it (as if a warrior had no need of rest after a battle like that—

And now, instead of retreating to the safety of the caves with the rest of the group, Seraph waited until too late to join them. The rumbling from above was growing louder and louder as the dragon-induced rockslide rolled down the mountain. I stumbled back a few steps as the first rocks began to fall over the cave’s mouth, but stopped aghast and lurched forward as far as I had retreated as a small boulder pinned the warrior to the ground. Before I could even work up the wit to shout his name, the rockslide came down like a veil over the cave’s mouth and blocked him from view.

The obscenities that left my mouth then would have been enough to make my older brother bush crimson. Luckily for the rest of the group, their inability to decipher my accent—which, might I add in my defense, is perfectly reasonable and in fact moderate for a woman of the high mountains—probably negated all need for censorship.

Moments after that flood of obscenities began, I hurried to the wall of rocks and began pulling at them, throwing them behind me without any regard for where they might land. Someone—Sirloaz, I think—shouted and swore at me when a rock nearly hit him, and beyond him, the she-elf was attempting to staunch Henry’s bleeding. The others were frantically discussing what had just come to pass, and what might have been able to take down a dragon of that size. I ignored them until Valin appeared at my side and began digging through the rocks, too.

“What was that thing, that attacked the dragon?” I heard the she-elf ask.

“Ill-luck, this…” muttered a male voice.

“That armor was thick, but…” This last I blocked out even more resolutely than the others. His armor was thick. I didn’t even spare a glance for the speaker as Valin and I continued to dig at the rocks. Finally, as I reached for another rock, my palm brushed something warm and comparatively soft. Warmth rushed into my stomach, which had gone cold.

“Valin! Seraph’s han’!” I shouted, tugging at the warrior’s arm. Gods grant his armor was thick enough!

The dotted lights were dancing, he thought. How strange that lights would dance. His head throbbed and the lights disappeared.

Someone was putting pressure on his leg. He tried to speak but his mouth wouldn't open. The pain wouldn't let him. The pain was in control now. He rested his head back onto the stony ground and closed his eyes, so even if the dancing lights reappeared he wouldn't seen them.

Somehow, amidst all the pain, his mouth was relinquished from the horrible throbbing in his side that had consumed his body. The blood was bubbling but he managed to mumble, "Back." Henry opened his eyes. There were no lights, but the figure who was holding his wound looked at him in confusion. She was a blur. "Back. Backpack."

The blur moved toward his torn pack by his legs, ravaged by sword slices. Henry regained some of his consciousness and attempted to speak once more. "Side. Side bit." He spluttered and coughed out a dark liquid. "Herbs."

There was some commotion behind the blur, screams and shouting, and movement, but it was too far away from him and besides, the blur wasn't interested. She followed his instructions diligently and pulled out some small green leaves.

"Use. Wound," Henry whispered. "They. They help."

The blur followed his advice, removing her hand that had been pressurising against his side. Blood, seizing the opportunity, slipped out of the cut and onto the rocks. The blur was quick though, and pushed the leaves into the cut. Henry moaned with pain. The lights returned, dancing even quicker than usual.

But they disappeared. He closed his eyes again, but heard a man's voice as he faded away.

"Let's hope they help, the blood is everywhere ..."

Henry had apparently fallen unconscious the herbs somewhat had slowed the bleeding, and it was time for rest and time to pick up where Carmenia had left off. He just lay there asleep as Finn and Tanq'un began to carefully extract seraph bit by bit. The elven woman began to walk amongst the party helping those who needed it dress their wounds.

Sirloaz walked away from the noise and commotion and began pulling off his armor. His blood spattered leather breast-plate fell to the ground with a soft thud, a new slash mark penetrating its usual flawless exterior. Looking down he quickly noticed the blood seeping into his sweat soaked shirt. He slowly eased off the shirt dropping it to the ground as he reached for his pouch. The gash was along his ribs, following some of the many symbols he had all over his body.

When he turned back around to dress the wound the elven woman was there staring at him strangely, looking up and down the length of his body, searching for something, then they made eye contact, her eyes meeting his with a look of concern. Slightly unnerved he looked away and began to dress the large wound, having some trouble getting at his back he became clearly frustrated. His unspoken pleas for help were soon answered as someone made their way around him addressing the wound. Sirloaz just stood there and waited, his head hung low, his body slightly bent in exhaustion.

Alden's jewel glowed brightly in the dark cave.

"Alden, get over here," Valin said. I came towards the entrance of the cave, it was completely closed.

A human hand came from underneath the rocks. We pulled the rocks out of the way, to find Seraph. He was unconcious, but he was alive. Two large boulders had fallen on either side of him and a larger boulder had fallen on top of them. Seraph was lucky to be alive.

"Remove his armor," Valin instructed. "We'll be able to move him easier." Finn removed the heavy armor he wore.

"With all that armor, you'd think he'd have a helmet," Ursa muttered.

They dragged Seraph from the rocks.

"She-elf-" Alden called.

"My name is Carmenia."

"Could you take a look at Seraph?"

"Just a minute," she said. She tore off another piece of fabric from her clothing, and tied it on Henry's wound. Alden looked over at Valin, who was watching Carmenia.

Alden walked over towards Henry.

"He's lost a lot of blood," she said.

"I'll stay with him. Go see to Seraph," Alden said. He watched Carmenia go over to Valin, before he turned back to Henry.

Alden dug into his flight harness and pulled out a blanket. He was saving it for a wet day, but Henry needed it more than he did. Using his beak, he covered Henry with the blanket. Then, he raised Henry's legs, crawled under them, and then let Henry's legs down. Then, Alden closed his eyes to get some rest, the glow of the jewel softly pulsing.

*Ursa*

Dragons, as a general rule, smell really bad. Its not really a fault of their own, seeing as they can't help who they are, but that didn't make them magically less stinky.

I didn't know many dragons, but this one I actually knew. Not that I knew a lot of dragons, but this was the one that Alden and I met. Apparently, Alden went a little shiny crazy and decided to try to steal a bunch of gold from a dragon's lair -- big mistake. I could tell that she recognized my smell, but she didn't really do anything about it except glare at me and puff a little smoke. Whatever it was, I was sort of glad. Not that I was actually afraid of her or anything, but I hear she had a new boyfriend and he was nastier. Best be on the good side.

"So is everyone alive?"

They ignored me. Not that they shouldn't have -- it was a fairly obvious question with an even more obvious answer. Everyone was still alive -- save for the bad guys of course. A little wounded and possibly dying, but alive. I grunted and headed towards a human who was sprawled out looking very mangled. He said something to someone else (don't ask me to remember names) and that someone else fished in the backpack to reveal Burnet leaves. At least someone had sense around here.

There were also some burns, but there wasn't much to do about that. All I knew was a bunch of our heroic warriors would be very scarred soon. Too bad they weren't bears -- the fur always grows back.

I sighed and turned to Alden. "So how are you?"

I opened my eyes to see Ursa.

"I'm tired, but at least I'm not wounded. How about you?"

"I'm bored."

"How can you be bored?"

"Nothing's really happening."

"We're trapped inside a mountain, after fighting off a company of goblins, not to mention having a dragon nearly incinerate us. How can you be bored?"

"Eh, I don't know. What do you think about Carmenia? If she tears off any more of her clothing, we'll be in for a show."

"If Henry wasn't injured, then I'd give the blanket to her," Alden agreed.

"Alden?"

"Yes Podgy?"

"Why the heck is everyone ignoring a bear like me?"

"I think they're offended by your superior wit."

"They should get over it."

"That would be what a person with incredible humility would do, but warriors rarely possess that trait. They'll get over their physical injuries faster than they'll get over injuries to their ego."

"So, what are you saying?"

"Maybe if you become more helpful and friendly, they'll be the same to you. It might be funny to see how they react," Alden said, closing his eyes again.

Seraph looked strangely diminished without his armor, face pale and pained. As the she-elf--Carmenia--knelt beside the nobleman and began to examine his injuries, Finn looked away. Henry had been tended to as best as possible, and Alden, Ursa, and Cyrus seemed to be taking the opportunity to rest; Valin was hovering behind Carmenia, his face drawn with concern as he looked down at his unconscious friend.

Finn returned to the mouth of the cave and looked up at the rocks, pushing a few strands of hair out of her face. Her eyes fell back down to the excavated spot where they'd unearthed Seraph; a glint of metal caught her eye. Dropping to her knees, she crawled forward and reached inside. With a little tugging, she freed Seraph's buckler. It had an unholy dent in it; for some reason, her stomach felt cold and tight at the sight of it. Without looking at the warrior's prostrate body, Finn deposited the damaged buckler on the pile she'd already made of Seraph's armor.

She turned around and sighed wearily, looking for somewhere to kip. Her eyes fell on Sirloaz, who seemed to be having trouble reaching his wound. She trudged over to him and wordlessly wrenched the bandage out of his hand.

"I en't no healer," she said, her voice quiet but hard with self-defense, as she cleaned as much of the dried blood off the wound as possible before winding the bandage around. She tied it, and he winced a little. "Sorry."

He grunted his thanks.

"You lot took care o' th' rest o' those goblins, then?"

This time, he deigned to nod. Luckily for him, Finn was too tired to be offended. Her response was limited to an indignant snort before she turned her back to him and started towards Seraph's prone body.

"...broken ribs, and it looks like his wrist, too... just fortunate he didn't hit his head," she heard Carmenia say in an undertone to Valin. The elf responded, but Finn bit her lip and backed away from them before she could hear.

She stopped nearer the mouth of the cave to lean against the rough, jagged wall; though adrenaline had carried her through relatively well, exhaustion was beginning to take its toll, and she was still sore from when she had tackled that goblin into the stack of crates. Rubbing her sore ribs, she turned her back to the wall and looked around at her companions: Henry and Seraph were both dead to the world, and Ursa and Cyrus were each snoring at various volumes. Valin and Carmenia continued in low conversation, Alden kept a dozy watch over Henry, and Sirloaz was settling down to sleep, as well. Tan'quin continued, tiredly, to clear away some of the smaller rocks.

Finn bit her lip and decided that it might be a good idea to follow their example. With a last glance towards the elves, Finn slid down to the dirt floor, cleared a few obtrusive rocks out of the way, and curled up with her back to everyone else, suddenly fighting the urge to cry.

You see? He refuses to use them, despite the dire circumstances.

In time. He will be mine--just like his father.

Two distinct voices pierce the silence. My eyes are open, but all I see is darkness. I can't move.

When they find out what he is...they will reject him--try to destroy him. He will slaughter them--and he will be mine.

This...is not Fatlhyr's domain. I am not dead...yet. Silently, I pray to Falthyr that I might live to continue my life.

A low, haughty chuckle shakes the darkness.

This proves nothing...only that he is ignorant of the power I will grant him.

Bane...you have already failed. His will is too strong to be influenced by the likes of you.

Bane? Falthyr's sworn enemy.

We shall see...Lord of Justice.

Keenly I feel a sharp pain my my side, though my body was nowhere to be seen. Light fingers play across my chest, probing softly at my flesh until they find--PAINFULLY--an injury.

I see nothing, hear nothing, smell nothing...and yet...the touch continues to search me for injury. My invisible wrist hurts. I can feel warm breath on my chest.

He doesn't look good... Valin!

His breathing is regular...as is his heartbeat. It sounds like he's going to be all right, with rest. An unfamiliar voice--feminine, melodic.

Seraph never was one to rest, though... Valin again. Nervous laughter.

Again, the voices fade and the touch returns. One slight slip, one prod of my ribs, and the excruciating pain sends me spinning back into the void.

Henry woke.

There were no dancing lights, no blurs. The pain was still there, but it was distant somehow: like he wasn't feeling it himself, but listening to a far-off person scream. it was strange, and he shivered. He looked down at his side and saw he dried blood. There was no fresh stream of blood coming through his cut, and Henry knew his grandmother's leaves must have worked. She always said they would save his life one day.

Most of the cavern was quiet. Henry strained his neck up and saw most of the group were resting. But there was a crunch of footsteps to his left and Henry saw the tired figure of Cyrus approaching.

"So yer awake, eh? Was wondering when yer might do that." His eyes and face seemed worn out.

Henry tried to smile, but it didn't work.

"You've been asleep for a long time now, laddie. Those leaves from yer pack worked a trick though, and the bleedin' seems to have stopped alright. We was worried for a while back there."

"What ... what happened?" Henry whispered.

"Damn Goblins that's what. You and Seraph went charging into all the bloody tribe, and you got yourself overwhelmed. Tricky buggers they can be when there's plenty of 'em. Valin, Alden, Sirloaz and Tan'quin arrived just in time and we scattered the tribe. I managed to defeat that Priest, and all seemed alright."

"Then what?"

"Yer won't believe me. There was a bloody dragon. A dragon! In these mountains. Never heard the sort. Luckily, I talked us out of it and the beast left us alone, but as it flew away it was attacked by summit powerful, that aso struck the mountains. All the rocks started to collapse. We ran for cover into the cave, but Seraph got caught," Cyrus growled nodding his head backward. "'E's alright though. Unconscious, but still alive."

Henry blinked. "Who tended to me 'fore? I couldn't make 'em out before."

"That would be the new girl," Cyrus said. "Carmenia, an elf an' all. Just to make the world a better place."

Henry laughed, but it came out more like a cough.

"Watch yourself, laddie."

"Do you 'ave any water? I'm bloody thirsty, that's all."

Cyrus grinned. "I got summit better, m'lad. You remember that lovely drink we shared before? Well I'm gonna give you some again. It'll help, my promises."

Henry felt a little unsure, but Cyrus drew out the flask and poured some down his open mouth, and it trickled down his throat. Henry sputtered with the strength ofthe liquid, but allowed himself to drink some more. The warmth of the drink seemed to help him instantly.

"Cheers," Henry mumbled.

"Damn business we got ourselves into now," Cyrus muttered. "First you, then Seraph. Sirloaz has got himself injured too. Adrian is still unwell, and took a bit of a battering in the fight. Then a dragon comes, atacked by something even stronger. One good thing though. We're in a majestic cavern! I feel at home at last."

"You dwarves really are bloody weird," Henry said.

"I'll take that as a compliment, laddie."

"So what now, eh?"

"We stay around here for a bit, till everyone's feeling a little better. A few of us will stay 'ere and watch the wounded, while a small exploring party tries out the rest of the caves. Might be something worth findin' around here, yer never know. Or somethin' worth avoidin'."

"Wish I could come," Henry said.

"Me too, Henry. Me too. We could use yer quick eyes. But there's always Finn and Sirloaz to scout ahead, and yer need yer rest."

Henry seemed to hear him straight away, and his eyes closed without him asking them too.

As they pulled Seraph's unconcious body from the rubble and once Finn had removed his armor and left, Carmenia and Valin began examining the wounds on his body.

"A few broken ribs, shattered wrist...," Carmenia was saying
"He's lucky to be alive," Valin replied, obviously concerned for his freind.
Carmenia switched to Elven language.
"Why do you care so much for him, especially since he's a human?"
"He's a humanoid, Carmenia, not a barbarian savage. And I care, because he is my brother"
"Your BROTHER?!" She hissed, mortified.
"Not literally," Valin said, quick on the uptake, "what, is your head filled with air? This warrior and I have been through many dangerous situations together before and he is the closest to family I have anymore" He said.
"I see," She said flatly. "And which stronghold do you hail from? I hail from Tor Arcana on the Eastern Shore"
"As do I" Valin said
"Really? Who are you're parents? What was their station?" Carmenia asked, excitedly.
"Who my parents were and what their station was is of no concern," Valin said cooly.
"Oh, touchy subject, hey? Well, My father is the Lord of Tor Arcana ruler and steward of the Elves on this shore," She said proudly. Valin looked in her eyes with death glowing behind them. She continued, rather unconcerned "I know you're probably thinking why is a cultured woman such as myself out adventuring..."
Valin cut her off.
"No, actually, I was wondering how ignorant or pompous you can be. MY father was the Lord of Tor Arcana before he was murdered, presumably by your father, although I'm not sure because I'm not old enough to know. My name is Valin Norovir, Orc Bane, Defeater of Savages, Bane of Evil, Heir to the Elves. Give me one reason why I shouldn't slit your treasonous throat!"

(Sorry for godmodding priss, if you want I'll edit it but I was looking for an opening for character development and saw it and took it)