creed of the warrior

[Knight]

She had taken the name Sahara when she ran away from a stifling home that stuffed her into frilly dresses and expected her to fall in love with a froofy courtier who could barely hold a sword, let alone beat her in a fight. She had always wanted someone strong, someone powerful to share her life with, if she chose to share it with anyone at all. And she would have been content if she never chose to share it. But her family could never understand that, never wanted to. Even if she did have an older brother, she was expected to marry to advance the family, to form alliances.

Sahara didn't want to do that. So she abandoned the elaborate name that she had once called hers. Estelle Sahara Riverdancer was no more. And sure, Sahara could be linked back to the princess, but who would suspect the half starved creature that she was to be a princess? No, Sahara looked rough. She was far from a princess and she was thankful for that.

Skinny, on the verge of haggard, she was not the most imposing of figures. She was petite, with slender limbs that hinted at a more graceful heritage than pure human. Generations of mixed breeding had left Sahara with an interesting appearance. Her skin was olive toned, tan and brown from time spent in the sun; her eyes were a strange shade between brown and crimson, and her hair a rich brown that she kept cropped short. Her ears tapered to a slight point, and her skin was covered in white scars, some thicker than others. A smattering of scales on her spine, a deep crimson in coloration, hinted at an otherworldly heritage for the young princess.

Her lineage was far from perfect, to say the least. And certainly not all human. Her ancestors had been married off to angels, to demons, to elves, to humans in an attempt to keep the peace. And her strange build was a testimony to that.

Bindings kept her chest flat and out of the way, and the only hint of her feminine nature was a necklace that rest just below her collar bones; a silver tree dangling from a chain, and in the trees roots was a world. It was from an old story, and the necklace had been passed down from youngest daughter to youngest daughter of the royal family for generations.

Shifting a sword in her hands, the young warrior examined it carefully. It seemed to be balanced well enough, and it was far from the sword that she had left behind (that elaborate thing would have been a dead giveaway, unfortunately), but it would serve its purpose well enough, she supposed.

Clicking her tongue to the massive brown dog that padded at her side, Sahara turned to the merchant, "I'll take the sword." Her voice fell somewhere between the light tones of a woman and the deeper ones of a man, leaving most to expect her to be a man. She didn't hide the fact that she was a woman on purpose, per say, but it was just easier to be a man in this day and age. People noticed you less when you wandered along in pants, instead of pointing and laughing. It was a nice feeling.

New sword in hand, Sahara rubbed Loveless' head absently as she nodded in the merchant's direction, turning to survey the market. An imposing building arched above the rest; a school of warriors. The school of warriors, if you wished to become famous and save the world. And Sahara had been recently enrolled there, and promised a mentor. Perhaps she would find happiness here, a happiness that had been missing in her palace life.

[Matsi]

What happened when a creature of purity and light met and fell in love with a creature of darkness and sin? Well, no one thought it could happen at all. After all, the creatures of Purity and the ones of Sin were usually at war with eachother. Yet, When an Elf lady lost her lover in battle, she turned into an outcast, wandering the lands, searching for her lost lover. That was when she met the wounded and dying Demon. The demon was not of High Power, only a lesser demon, thus more willing to allow the Elf to heal him.

In the end, through the demon making many trips away from, and back to his kin, the Elf and Demon put aside Their differences and love took ahold.
That was when Ecliptan was born. At least, that was what he was called way back then. Now, he was simply called Dark. Dark Moonlightning. He was the twisted result of love being found between the most unlikely creatures. Yet, no one but himself knew that.
Of course, his appearance raised many questions and rumors, but he just smiled and nodded, allowing their imaginations to run wild.

He stood now, as a newly graduated trainer in the Warrior school. He was young, by demon and elf terms, but the humans thought of him to only be in his twenties. He did look about that age after all.
"You going to wait for the newcomers?" An older trainer asked as he looked up at the young man..creature.

The man was a good six inches shorter than dark, which was only the start of Dark's suspicious appearance.
His skin was fair, but marred with scars and still-black burn like marks. The most interesting mark was that of two tear drops, swirling together on his chest, but that mark was typically covered. The right side of his back was stained black with the odd scarring, while his right side was veined with it, as if poison was flowing in his veins. His left arm, up to the elbow, was paler than his already deathly-white skin, and slightly disfigured, as if something had taken a bunch of small chunks out of his arm.

His frame seemed to be elegant and narrow, but it was covered with thick muscles that seemed to threaten to rip his skin open in areas. His jawline was square, but elegant, while his cheek bones were slightly high, but darkness seemed to rest under his bright crimson eyes. His hair was long, almost to the middle of his back, and mostly dark black, but streaked with white. Yes, he was an odd one indeed.


"Dark," The trainer tried to get Dark's attention again. Dark fiddled with the sword that rested in his belt holster.
"Yes, I will," He finally said, his voice deep yet humming with a musical tone.
The trainer nodded.
"Your quiver and bow are hanging on the Weapon rack," The old trainer said as he turned to head inside to feast. Dark simply bowed his head slightly, then turned his devilish gaze back out to the world around them.

[Knight]

Loveless was a massive brown creature, his fur coming in varying shades and hinting at a distinctly mixed heritage. He was as much a mutt as his companion was, and the large dog's nostrils flared as he scented something on the breeze. The dog nudged his human lightly with a wet black nose and Sahara jumped slightly. "You're right, you're right." The girl murmured, shaking her head slightly as she turned to wander off towards the school. It was time for her classes to begin.

She was almost . . . nervous, which was a strange sensation for the confident princess. No courtier could hold a candle to her fighting, but Sahara knew that that did not prepare her for true fighting with true warriors. They would easily be able to handle her. The thought made her frown slightly as she headed forward, but that was why she was there, right? To learn. To be able to become a true warrior and hopefully never return home.

The young woman was actually the first arrival. The rest would begin to file in shortly after her, but it seemed Sahara had lucked out. She would look more punctual than her companions now. 'Royalty is always on time. All else are merely early or late.' Her mother's voice ran through her head, and Sahara shook her head slightly, trying to drive the feminine voice away.

And it was then, of course, that Loveless chose to slip away from her side and pad straight up to Dark. The large dog tilted his head slightly as he sniffed at the creature before him, moving in a slow circle around the creature. A huff escaped the dog and he sat down with a solid thump beside Dark.

"Loveless!" Sahara hissed softly, glaring at the dog, "Get over here!" But the canine's tail only wagged, leaving Sahara glancing helplessly at the massive man that her dog seemed to have taken a liking too. "My apologies." The girl spoke swiftly, shooting her dog a nasty look. Damn it. She never should have picked up that stray.

[Matsi]

Dark's eyes were on the horizon as he watched for people, known and unknown, approching the school. No figures could be seen by his crimson gaze. His gaze was starting to get lazy, though. With a wandering mind, especially as the clatter of midday meal being cleaned up echoed into his ears. The sharp sounds of the plates clashing and silverwear being gathered was sharp and almost earshattering.

Of course, his attention shifted at the sound of soft paws and claws tapping on the stone floor towards him. One eyebrow raised as he turned slightly to watch the canine. He, otherwise, ignored the beast as it took place beside him with a huff.

Dark let out a heavy breath and raised his eyes again.

He had a canine once. But that had been quite a while ago, long before he decided to mix in with the common folk at the warrior school. More time than the lifetime of five dogs had passed since his canine, Health, had given in to the wears and tears of time. He had often thought about taking in another canine beast, but his poor elven side did not accept death lightly, thus, he had been too afraid to take in another mortal beast.

The voice made him raise his eyebrows again and turn to look at the young woman.
"He is causing no harm, apprentice," He stated softly with a deep humming tone. If anyone had been standing closer, they would have been able to feel the bass in their chest. But, no one was so lucky, thus it went unnoticed.

"You should not need to raise a voice to get a canine's attention. But, if you take a class with Master of Beast FIghting, Master Hilorn, you will learn that," He muttered, more to himself than anyone. He looked back down at the canine. Surely this dog was better well behaved than what he just witnessed, right?