Nálaroth - Asphyxia

OOC:
Welcome to the first roleplay in the world of Nálaroth. If you need any information or are new, make sure to look up the database thread, located in Roleplaying/Databases!
I hope you all enjoy roleplaying and OOC-ing in here.

IC:

Cynith Arodath

The stars were bright. Every one of them a dot of treason, of danger, exposure, Leoní though as she moved slowly along the dark alley, keeping close to the walls of the house.
She cast a glance around her, trying to determine if she was being watched.
"Leoní?"
A soft whisper beside her. She jumped in fright as a door behind her that had only been open to a crack before swung out, revealing a figure standing in the doorway. Then she recognised his voice.
"Quick. Come in."

She followed the man who had already turned around. "Close the door behind you."

- The Golden Mountains -
A small, wiry figure entered a small tent and set his small, but sharp and wicked dagger down on a stand. The creature stumbled over to a bottle filled with a purple liquid, he could smell its foul odour. "Perfect..." Nal'katar hissed under his breath. He took a lid and put it on top of the poison. He then went and stored the spare ingredients away. He walked over top the tents entrance and charged out.

The creature looked around the makeshift camp.
"Tal'ar, where is that Warlock?" He muttered angrily, before charging into the second largest tent other then his own, it was empty except for the Twilightdagger Guard assigned there, the other small figure was covered in gray armor. "Where is Tal'ar?" Demanded Nal'katar.
"Chieften, he went hunting..."

"Are the others here?"
His face darkened. "Not all of them."
"But..." Leoní's face turned pale when an idea entered her mind.
"Does that not mean-"
"Yes", he interrupted her. "They might have caught the missing ones."
She opened her mouth to ask the inevitable question. "Who?"

The chieftains hand grabbed hold of the slightly largers guards neck.
"THEN FIND HIM, AND MAKE SURE YOU COME BACK WITH HIS HEAD!" Nal'Katar demanded angrily before dropping the guard and rushing out of the tent. He headed into his own tent and got some ingredients out, but them into his potion making tools and started messing around with them intill he got a foul odour, he poured it into a bottle. "Remind me to poison that guard when he gets back"

A knock against the door, a hard, agressive sound.
Leoní jumped. "Come, quickly!" She turned around, heading for the back door, but the man held her shoulder fast. "What do you mean? Surely we do not have to fear our own people?"
Leoní cast a questioning and fearful glance at him. "What do you mean, our own men?"
"The others who wanted to turn up tonight?"
"But Alaén, they did not turn up -"

The door cracked and fell to the floor with a resounding crash.
The noise of bowstrings being loosed, sudden and more terrible to Leoní than anything else in the world.
A sharp pain in her arm, her shoulder. She screamed.
Next to her, Alaén fell to the floor, mouth opened in a now-voiceless scream, his thin body barbed with three arrows.
Leoní turned and fled like a deer with the dogs behind it.

A sudden pain in the back of her head, but it passed soon.
Darkness engulfed her.

The last thing Leoní felt in her life was her own body crumpling onto the wooden boards of the room, the sound of boots marching into the room ringing in her ears.
Then it ended.

The goblin guard rushed into the wilderness, following the warlocks carefully concealed trails. He drew his dagger out.
"I cannot wait for the day I stab the Chieften with this..." He said gleefully. His footsteps pattered on the rugid landscape of the mountain, and a wolf jumped at the goblin. The goblin was temporaily suprised by quickly rolled though one of the wolves claws slashed his left arm, he dropped his dagger then recovered it, and plunged it into the wolf.

-Cynith Arodath, 17 years ago-

She was a girl of five when her life changed. She could not forsee it, naive and careless like every small child, and she could not comprehend or stand it, delicate like every child.
Her father was a mercenary, saying that they were poor and that he wanted to give his daughter and wife a better life. He set this over his honour. When he was killed, not a tear was shed for him except by his daughter and wife. Noone mourned a mercenary. If you risk your life for money, you should cope with the risks, they were told. And only more tears flowed for Leoní's father by his little girl.