#veabris

Well I’ve changed up some things.

Tactus’s job didn’t change.  He’s still a private investigator contracted by the Empire who also does pro bono work in his travels.

I originally billed Veabris as some sort of “Inspector” until I recently was thinking about it again and thought that was dumb. In the new version: Vea was, for a time, a health and safety coordinator for the king’s loaned slaves.  Which was good because Vea speaks Nedic and actually cared. 

Tagged by @henantier!  Thanks!!!

Tagging:  (No pressure!) @ma-setheneran @thescriibarchives @numphet @nerevarbean @norroendyrd @naernon and I never remember who likes to do these so, you too if you want!

Rules:

Bold any fears which apply to your muse.

Italicize what makes them uncomfortable.

 Narr Surana:

the dark. fire. open water. deep water. being alone. crowded spaces. confined spaces. change. failure. war. loss of control. powerlessness. blood. drowning. suffocation. clowns. the supernatural. heights. spiders. rejection. abandonment. loss. the unknown. the future. not being good enough. scary stories. speaking to new people. poverty. loud noises. being touched. forgetting. being forgotten. being mind controlled. being haunted. dying. being misunderstood.

Solrion:

the dark. fire. open water. deep water. being alone. crowded spaces. confined spaces. change. failure. war. loss of control. powerlessness. blood. drowning. suffocation. clowns. the supernatural. heights. spiders. rejection. abandonment. loss. the unknown. the future. not being good enough. scary stories. speaking to new people. poverty. loud noises. being touched. forgetting. being forgotten. being mind controlled. being haunted. dying. being misunderstood.  

Dreyns Nelvayn:

the dark. fire. open water. deep water. being alone. crowded spaces. confined spaces. change. failure. war. loss of control. powerlessness. blood. drowning. suffocation. clowns. the supernatural. heights. spiders. rejection. abandonment. loss. the unknown. the future. not being good enough. scary stories. speaking to new people. poverty. loud noises. being touched. forgetting. being forgotten. being mind controlled. being haunted. dying. being misunderstood.

Veabris: 

I’m removing Veabris from this blog.  A character from that far in the past just doesn’t mesh well with the others.

In Veabris’s place I will be introducing Dreyns Nelvayn.  Expect posts about this character soon.

Northern Cyrod in the height of day.  It was grey, snowing, yet no wind struck Veabris’s face.  They were here, the three who ran, yet they hid themselves under the cover of snow. 

A single step, a broken twig.  A rustle behind.  One was in the twigs that would form a bush in a warmer season, another was somewhere behind the Mer, and the last...was here. 

Veabris turned, staff in hand, looking, watching, waiting. 

Suddenly the whistling of metal cut thru the air, and the staff spun to meet it.  The man took hold of his sword and swung again, causing Veabris to sidestep the blow and bring the staff down on his knees, knocking him to the ground.

An arrow sung over Veabris’s shoulder, cutting the fabric, breaking the very top of the skin.  The archer aimed and released another, yet now the elf had seen him, and the arrow was framed in a bubble of magic, stopping near inches from the Mer’s unblinking face, before being sent back at full speed to the sender’s own eye.

The man on the ground, seeing his only opening, grabbed the elf’s leg and pulled the Mer to the ground with him.  Both their weapons out of reach, they grappled. 

The man swung his fist only to be met with dirt as Veabris gained enough room so the head darted downwards at the attack.  The man felt his chest get kicked from under him as he toppled to the side, unable to breath.  Veabris scrambled for the man’s sword before plunging in down his neck.