FIRST CROWNED.

   The bridge of Andruil’s nose crinkled with displeasure. Other parts of her face twitched as well: her brow, her eyes, her lips. She tried to keep an outburst contained, a growled huff of frustration, for it would not be one of her better ideas to bare FANGS at the All-Father. She wasn’t such a little girl anymore ( though, always his little arrow ). The hunter could feel Elgar’nan’s fist tighten around his wild fantasies, dreams of walking the void and coming out victorious. 

   “I have not detailed my ideas to you, father. Why do you already doubt me so much? Am I not the best hunter there is, are we not GODS to the people?!” 

   Boldly, she stepped away, not letting him touch her, and breaking the contact between their eyes. She chose to look off to the side instead, seemingly lost in thought, looking thoroughly solemn. 

   “New legends will be made. Must I suffer the lack of satisfaction from not even trying?” 

                      By the spirits was she ever stubborn. Though, given who her parents happened to be, such a trait wasn’t exactly all that surprising. However, when such stubbornness was met by even more stubbornness, things had a tendency to not go the most smoothly. Elgar’nan was at least somewhat willing to listen to what his daughter had to say, the likelihood that he would agree to it was pretty slim at this point.

                     With his gaze remaining fixated upon her, Elgar’nan’s jaw would tighten ever so slightly. This was nothing new, and Andruil had acted this way a million times in the past, but it never got any easier to deal with her. The headache that she was likely to bring him was to arrive soon, but at least he could hear her out first.

 Ah yes, they were Zevran’s two favorite things in the world: unwarranted self-importance and mages with no regard for self-control. His smile was mocking, only because he didn’t think he could roll his eyes and still feel his skin in the morning. 

“A greeting would be nice, yes? Hello Zevran, are you cold? Do you mind if I start a fire? Not that I mind, of course, but whoever owns those weapons might be upset that they are kindling.” 

“And you are? Besides prone to violent outbursts.” 

                      Elgar’nan was truly a sight to behold-- Towering over the average elf at six feet seven inches, and with his constant ‘ holier than thou ‘ stance, it was clear that he was different. Whilst standing directly in front of Zevran now, the all father would allow his magic to surge to his finger tips; his face remaining just as unimpressed as it had been a mere moment ago. This one-- He was bold, wasn’t he? He didn’t show the same fear that the others had. How curious.

                     With the magic still pooling at his finger tips, the all father’s golden eyes would practically snap to Zevran’s form; taking his attention away from the pile of charred remains for a moment.

                       The mighty empire that had once been Arlathan had fallen into pieces, and the remaining pieces of it had all but faded from memory. Though the humans were not at fault for it’s downfall, they had no treated the ruins or the artifacts with the sort of respect that the all father believed they deserved. And though this woman was not at fault for what became of the remnants of his home, Elgar’nan viewed her as being no different than the looters themselves.

                      Gaze narrowed upon the young woman as her movements were closely studied and taken into account. He was not overly displeased by her presence, but it was quite clear that he was not comfortable. Raising his chin in an attempt to make himself appear even taller, the ancient one would practically hiss as he spoke.

    “Considering my father’s age, shouldn’t it actually be GILF?”

                       Upon a large halla, the all father would sit; his armor reflecting the remaining bit of sunlight as the sun began to set. He was quite a sight the sight to see, and certainly stood out from every other elf that passed through the forest in which he found himself in currently. --Had he passed this tree before? He couldn’t quite remember... Pulling at the reigns of his mount, Elgar’nan would force the creature to stop so that he could further try to process his surroundings. However, upon doing so, he immediately sensed something, or rather someone, unfamiliar.

                      Forcing his halla to turn, Elgar’nan’s gaze would shift towards the direction in which he was certain the stranger’s aura was coming from. He wasn’t the sort to simply go chasing others unless they had been deemed a threat, so instead, he would make whoever was out there come to him. Perhaps they could tell him where he was-- With his tone commanding, the ancient one would finally break his silence and call out into the woods.

               “What sort of fool do you take me for?”

                       He knew who she was, and he knew of the position she held. That aspect of her, he could certainly respect. However-- That did not mean that he liked her. No, he detested her. One of Falon’din’s most loyal, she had proven to be a thorn in his side time and time again, and truth be told, he didn’t trust her. Every time he and her patron would argue, it always seemed as though she would appear shortly after. She was his general, after all, so he shouldn’t have been surprised, yet-- It was her appearances that made him despise her more and more. She was up to something-- He could feel it.

                      Towering over the priestess, Elgar’nan would allow his magic to surge at his fingertips. Everything he stood for, everything he did, was a sign of sheer POWER. Those who chose to follow anyone other than him were unworthy, and certainly not to be trusted.

                       Humans-- They were all the same. They aged quickly, they were weak, and they were greedy. With a look of dsigust resting upon his sharp features, the ancient one would stand tall and proud; his chin elevating ever so slightly as a silent sign that he thought himself to be the better of the two.

                      He’s merely going to sit there silently, a smirk slowly forming on his features, for a few moments before ultimately taking one of her hands into his own and placing a kiss on top of her knuckles; patting her hand once he was done.

                       Elgar’nan was the sort of individual that once you laid eyes upon him, looking away was nearly impossible. Whether that was due to his sheer glory, or the fact that he was nothing short of terrifying remained a mystery, however. None the less, his entire being commanded respect. And, unsurprisingly, he almost always got exactly that.