A turn of events seemed something far beyond the normal expectations even for Penn and the strange life she had become used to since stepping from her homelands and leaving the misty island she had known.
It almost seemed like a dream, the polite greeting to the dragon and then the presence of Pont and the arrival of the Elite. A typical quiet start to an afternoon after working out the Friesian had become something akin to close proximity insanity of drawn weapons and unknown entities. Penn could only classify them in her own way as Beasts. Then again, it was only the visual appearance that would grant the name but if anyone knew it well, appearances were far too deceiving.
The Elite's greeting had seemed more so a battle cry to Penn, and it appeared that the black Beast had taken it to be much the same for no sooner had such happened then the sleek black creatures were swarming the tavern floor. Penn had no time to contemplate if the two that approached her were friend or foe but even still the relic was only drawn but not fired.
Penn would never rush into a fight with blinders on and this moment she very much felt the same. To think that her foolish mind had even had her trying to tug an armored suit of a strange knight out of the way of the following black descent of creatures. Gods knew that no matter how capable Penn was, she didn't have the strength even as a Lady to move mountains forged as men.
Turning away it had been that moment where the floor had become ice beneath her feet. Her wet steps left an imprint of where she had come and where she would go as there suddenly was not just the dragon, the armored suit of a knight, the Elite, and the Beast but instead now one that she could only consider the Stag.
The Stag of black mirrored shine seemed nothing more then perhaps a leader and the lily white shine of her own small palms had extended out in surrender. A natural sign of no harm intended. Even the relic had been put away rather then held down at her side.
The moment truly had awoken the Lady once more to seize possession of the mere shell of Penn's existence as the roar of the tide and the crashing fury of raw power awakened within her to change her once more into the one she had always been.
The Lady.
It seemed strange and surreal to approach the Stag when at one time she herself had approached another as the White Stag. Even in a moment born of magic where gender was not as significant as symbolism the woman could not be a Lady or a Doe, but instead the White Stag.
Now in this moment here she was before the Stag with the mirror black shine of flawless flesh brushing across her and she felt more then heard the sound that sent those beneath him in retreat. It had not been the only thing she felt and certainly not the only thing she heard. In her mind had been the voice of the Stag. Of all the things she expected to feel and hear when the Stag had touched her it was certainly not what she heard.
The Stag himself was telling her how to save them and stop it all. It was Penn's own voice that had reached out to the Elite to inform him to put the grenade away. She recalled touching the Stag then and feeling the contrast and comparison of their own physical contact even as his mind and the feelings of him had run across her spine like water. The sweet line between pleasure and pain had that sensation become.
Still the Stag's words stuck with her" that she would not have been harmed. That it was because she was female she would remain untouched. If only she had known before her fascination with the little dark creatures might have extended to a different reaction compared to what had been.
There was no matter of exploration of her thoughts even as the question unspoken to the Stag lingered in her mind.
Why"
The threat dissipated and the Lady released her claim once more upon the Vessel. The telepathy and the power gathered within her and that kismet moment shared with the Stag did nothing more then drain the shell. Penn wasn't strong enough in that moment to stay on her own two feet and she welcomed the sweet bliss of unconsciousness to claim her.
That sweet bliss that remained constant in the strange torture and pleasure of the Stag's unknown presence of touch, his words lingered within her even as she felt herself being lifted and carried away rather then collapsing to a frozen floor?
It almost seemed like a dream, the polite greeting to the dragon and then the presence of Pont and the arrival of the Elite. A typical quiet start to an afternoon after working out the Friesian had become something akin to close proximity insanity of drawn weapons and unknown entities. Penn could only classify them in her own way as Beasts. Then again, it was only the visual appearance that would grant the name but if anyone knew it well, appearances were far too deceiving.
The Elite's greeting had seemed more so a battle cry to Penn, and it appeared that the black Beast had taken it to be much the same for no sooner had such happened then the sleek black creatures were swarming the tavern floor. Penn had no time to contemplate if the two that approached her were friend or foe but even still the relic was only drawn but not fired.
Penn would never rush into a fight with blinders on and this moment she very much felt the same. To think that her foolish mind had even had her trying to tug an armored suit of a strange knight out of the way of the following black descent of creatures. Gods knew that no matter how capable Penn was, she didn't have the strength even as a Lady to move mountains forged as men.
Turning away it had been that moment where the floor had become ice beneath her feet. Her wet steps left an imprint of where she had come and where she would go as there suddenly was not just the dragon, the armored suit of a knight, the Elite, and the Beast but instead now one that she could only consider the Stag.
The Stag of black mirrored shine seemed nothing more then perhaps a leader and the lily white shine of her own small palms had extended out in surrender. A natural sign of no harm intended. Even the relic had been put away rather then held down at her side.
The moment truly had awoken the Lady once more to seize possession of the mere shell of Penn's existence as the roar of the tide and the crashing fury of raw power awakened within her to change her once more into the one she had always been.
The Lady.
It seemed strange and surreal to approach the Stag when at one time she herself had approached another as the White Stag. Even in a moment born of magic where gender was not as significant as symbolism the woman could not be a Lady or a Doe, but instead the White Stag.
Now in this moment here she was before the Stag with the mirror black shine of flawless flesh brushing across her and she felt more then heard the sound that sent those beneath him in retreat. It had not been the only thing she felt and certainly not the only thing she heard. In her mind had been the voice of the Stag. Of all the things she expected to feel and hear when the Stag had touched her it was certainly not what she heard.
The Stag himself was telling her how to save them and stop it all. It was Penn's own voice that had reached out to the Elite to inform him to put the grenade away. She recalled touching the Stag then and feeling the contrast and comparison of their own physical contact even as his mind and the feelings of him had run across her spine like water. The sweet line between pleasure and pain had that sensation become.
Still the Stag's words stuck with her" that she would not have been harmed. That it was because she was female she would remain untouched. If only she had known before her fascination with the little dark creatures might have extended to a different reaction compared to what had been.
There was no matter of exploration of her thoughts even as the question unspoken to the Stag lingered in her mind.
Why"
The threat dissipated and the Lady released her claim once more upon the Vessel. The telepathy and the power gathered within her and that kismet moment shared with the Stag did nothing more then drain the shell. Penn wasn't strong enough in that moment to stay on her own two feet and she welcomed the sweet bliss of unconsciousness to claim her.
That sweet bliss that remained constant in the strange torture and pleasure of the Stag's unknown presence of touch, his words lingered within her even as she felt herself being lifted and carried away rather then collapsing to a frozen floor?