elf. 22. unattached.

Kill him, kill him, kill him, had quieted down in her mind as she had stood before the goddess. Her white gown beautifully sculpted her figure. She was entirely beautiful – which churned Norah’s own self-consciousness. Never before had the woman compared herself to another being and she was determined not to begin to now. No. Steeling herself against that icy smile, Norah produced one of her own – but it was of pure fire, determination, and passion. Her slick words crossed the distance which span between them, the young huntress not daring to move forward as all of her senses spoke “danger, danger, danger.” But she could not resist her ears from listening to the woman’s words.

She sounded so soft and serene, so lovely and sweet. I can help you to ensure that no one ever has to go through what you went through. Lorraine had spoken with freezing rain, sparking a fire within the young woman. Yes, Norah would do anything to save someone else from the heartache that she endured. Anything. Quick brown eyes focused on the woman’s lips, cool frost forming before her face as she spoke. So focused was she that she almost missed what she was hearing – or perhaps it was the shock of it all, she could not be certain. Kill the king? Norah had hardly been to Shaman for nearly a month, did this woman truly believe that she was capable of such a feat?

Swallowing she stood there, waiting to see if there were further instructions. But there were none, before another word could be spoken to her, or another thought entered her mind, she nodded curtly and turned her back to the woman – and deciding to hurry on with her quest, she left the scene as quickly as she had arrived.
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Thoughts were swimming through her head as she ventured forth from the Pantheon. From the ice goddess – what in the world had she gotten herself into? Norah was not a trained killer, she did not kill. Or at least, she did not kill people. Finally, entering the safety of the forest, she moved on towards what she believed would be the castle. It would take her quite a few days journey to find her way there, but knowing that it was worth it – or at least, to find out the truth behind the goddess’s words – she had to move onward, with hope. Hope that the goddess was wrong. Norah was new to the land, the customs, and the like. It had taken some getting used to but she believed that the land, plants, animals, were all just a part of a new life. One that she now had to get used to!
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After she had been traveling for several days, asking random folks as she passed through where she might speak to the King she had arrived. It had taken her three days, after a mishap in the forest she had had to bandage her shin, which had slowed her down considerably. Though, Norah would never admit to the throbbing pain because she was raised to ignore it, it had hurt considerably falling from the tree limb. She had thanked her lucky stars that she had not broken anything but it had been deeply bruised, and she had stitched the wound herself. Wrapping a considerable amount of fabric to keep her boot from rubbing the wound, she could hardly feel it now as she walked towards the castle. Climbing up a tree, as close as she dared, she watched from daybreak to nightfall to see the guards meandering about – to see if she could see a glimpse of the king – but nothing had yet seized her attention.

After a day of watching the castle, she decided it was time to try and enter it – it was the only way she would be able to see the king. If she simply had asked to speak with him, for no given reason, she highly doubted she would receive an invitation into the kingdom. She was not of royal blood, obviously, as she was knew to Shaman. But she also did not play the part of the higher courts – just by looking at her appearance. Though, she did give herself credit – she was well groomed for this day. Having had to take frequent baths to clean the wound, she was quite freshened up. Her hair was in a nice braid which hung over her shoulder, allowing the few gentle wisps to fall about her cheeks and forehead. Her shirt, tights, and boots were all freshly washed, and looked presentable, if she did say so herself. Unfortunately, unbeknownst to her, she was not dressed for this court. What the matter, she was not here for a pleasant greeting, she needed answers. Lorraine’s quest had left her with a confused and hotheaded mind, and an awful pit in her stomach. Who could request this of another? Sighing at these thoughts, she pushed them to the back and she planned out her climb up the side of the castle.

Nightfall had come on the fourth day of her journey and she had snuck up to the side of the castle. My goodness, it’s so steep, she thought to herself. Deciding against the climb without some sort of support, she looked about to find any form of equipment she could use. Not finding any, she ran back into the outskirts of the treeline to find a shed, or a building for supplies. Sneaking across and around the castle she found one, left ajar – for whatever reason. Deciding to take a quick peek inside she noticed quite a bit of rope, harnesses, axes, and other miscellaneous objects. Knowing that she was not able to carry a good portion of those things, and that none of them except the rope would be of use to her, she quickly went to grab it. Strong hands grabbed her from behind, covering her mouth and grabbing her side to pick her up. Kicking behind her, she heard a grunt and a loosening of the hands. In one swift moment she picked up a shovel and swung it upon his head, knocking him out cold. Wiping a bit of sweat off of her forehead, she gathered the ropes she thought she would need and dashed quickly from the scene of the crime.

Hearing voices approaching she fell into the quietness of the trees and climbed upon a great and sturdy one. Now earning her supersight she gazed along the castle’s walkways, high above the ground where she had been standing. There! A guard. Tying the rope to one of her most dependable arrows, in a tight and quick motion she brought her bow to her front and aimed at the man. What was she doing? Killing a man to get to Arthur? King Arthur. Knowing that she could not bring herself to do it, she dropped her aim but continued to watch. Suddenly, a black figure knocked the guard off of his feet – probably out cold – and continued to run for the entrance. What a turn of events! Excitement surged through her, aiming against she let the arrow fly, the rope along with it. Watching as her deadly aim hit her target, the black figure fell. Success urged its way into her veins. Now for the climb up! Allowing the rope to swing to the side of the castle, Norah quietly climbed down the tree and watched for any oncoming guards – but none came. Blood pumped through her veins as she raced towards the castle walls, to find the rope and climb.

Using the deadweight of the body, she assumed she had killed; she pulled on the rope to make sure it would remain stationary and began the climb upwards. It took a bit more upper body strength than she had anticipated, but she had forgotten about her shin and the inability to use her left leg to its full potential, by this time Norah was dripping with sweat. Finally, her small hand grasped the side of the castle stone and she began to pull herself over the edge, on to the walkway. For a moment’s hesitation, she wondered how the black figure had gotten up here without doing what she did. Perhaps he climbed. Panting slightly, she held unto the edge as she walked, her bow and quiver knocking together noisily. Frozen in place, she looked behind her but saw no one besides the two on the pavement. Re-adjusting her belongings so she would remain silent, she moved onwards. Oh yes, she moved onwards.

Smiling a bit smugly to herself for her accomplishment of “breaking in” to the castle, she opened the door that led into the castle, only slightly to let her eyes feast on the inner beauty of the castle. But all she saw was darkness – there was no light. Of course, it was night time, so what was she to expect. Slipping between the small crack of the doors, she allowed herself, she shut the door behind her as quietly as she could. But she highly doubted it would go unnoticed. Pacing herself quickly, she quieted her breathing as much as she possibly could, and moved her feet noiselessly, due to her leather boots. The kings office or chambers had to be near, she thought to herself as she moved about the castle. As she noiselessly moved about, she could not help her awe and wonderstruck mind take its look about the beautiful castle – it was everything her Uncle had told her about. It was magnificent. She was about to check what looked like a beautiful doorway into what she would guess, a special room, when she heard urgent footsteps and voices headed her way. Pushing herself against the beautiful wall, she looked down the hallway. A troop of ten or more guards were headed her way. “Stay where you are, all weapons down!” The lead man shouted. Afraid she had been caught she opened the doorway of the room she had entered, only to fall into the hands of yet another guard. “Oof,” she said unhappily as he grabbed her roughly by both arms. “We heard word that you were coming, thief.” He spit at her. Norah, being as intelligent as she could be, remained silent and made no comment. Perhaps she should have simply requested to speak with the king.

He paid no mind to her silence and opened the door of the king’s office to release her to the other guards. “Take her to the dungeons.” His gruff voice spoke. In about two seconds Norah’s body had been stripped of all of her possessions, her precious bow and quiver full of arrows, her pack with all of her belongings from home, everything was taken from her. For further security they told her that she would not remember the way to and out of the dungeon, thus, being knocked out by a rather mean guard as he took her body to the dungeons where they deposited her there – to await her sentencing.