Thread: The Elvish Hero & the Bandit Queen {darkest_fate&translucentfeathers}

RE The Elvish Hero the Bandit Queen darkestfate Briala had failed, and miserably. She had gotten her men and those who followed her to safety by leading a rather persistent group of mercenaries off of their trail, she was afterall the one they were after and the rest would have merely fallen as casualties if they stood between these hunters and their supposed prize and Briala wasn't one to sacrifice those who followed her for her own escape. It would have made her no better than the self righteous elven lords and ladies they stole from to service the less fortunate and those in need. It had been decades since she last had lived among the elves, and Briala had no desire to ever return to their cold hatred and judgemental bigotry. Her mother an elven scout and her father a human merchant had met on the road all of those years ago, and from their union she had been born. Despite the love her parents had felt their time together had been brief and Briala's mother had been tasked with raising a the child that came from her coupling alone. If that hadn't been enough of a factor for her childhood to be filled with the teasings and torments of the other elven children in the city, her mother passed suddenly in a scouting trip where a troupe of orcs had fallen upon them unawares. The result was a homeless orphaned half breed living in the streets of the bright elven city, a blight and viewed as a blemish within her own 'people'. It had led her away from elven kind with a bitterness in her heart, though she found other races to be no better until she fell upon a brotherhood of thieves in a nearby human city. The underground world she fell into was dark and welcoming, ignorant to her background and only caring for her skill. She was roughly trained for years in thieving and how to defend herself crudely with blades and a bow. It wasn't long after that she became one of the best, throwing everything she had into becoming something more than she was when she was first brought into this world. She discarded her elven name and took on one of her own, one she made hers. In the years following she gathered a following of fellow outcasts, men and women and their children who had been wronged and thrown out by the cultures of the world they lived in. They were her people and they were worth more to her than the targets and wealth they brought in, more than her own life even which is why she sacrificed herself easily without thought and didn't flee with them. Briala glared at dirt beneath her where she sat kneeling, ignoring the pain that bloomed over her back and side from the hit she had taken from the Orc fiend, Noogock she had heard him referred to as. They would turn her over to the elves, she knew, and from there her life of freedom would end and that mere thought pained her more than anything these honorless brutes would dish out. She eyed them all quietly and listened to them prattle on about her as though she was not present. Briala listened intently and bit her tongue for as long as she was able until she had finally grown weary of the barbs. Better for an icy frigid breeze to flow forth when I part my legs than the wretched stench that I would assume permeates the air whenever you part yours, she said lightly in response to the dark elf's attempted insult. She turned to the man before her then, a handsome face but those were the ones she found you could trust the least. And maybe if you asked me nicely I would be willing to share information? Of course I doubt anything I know would be of any importance to you, she offered in a sweet tone dripping in sarcasm as she fixed him with a hardened glare.