The only people who are allowed to roleplay in this thread are
D0LL & HC-Gal

No one else is allowed to post. Thank you.

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Knight of the Crow's Order

Name: Elise Caedmon
Age: 19
Height: 5'6"
Weight: 119 lbs
Hair: Azure
Eyes: Dark amaranth
Three Words Describing: Brave, proud, & impatient

Knight of the Crow's Order

Name: Canaan Lahire
Age: 24
Height: 6'3"
Weight: 186 lbs
Hair: Light Gray
Eye: Gold
Three Words Describing:
Calm, Kind, Loyal

Bright-eyed and smiling, Elise Caedmon marched briskly through the midmorning hustle of the city streets. The feel of her upturned lips felt strange on her jaw. It had been a long time since she had last been in this good of a mood and even longer since she had smiled this exuberantly. She inhaled and took in the world. The weather was nice, people were oddly courteous, and earlier she had even found a coin on the ground, but most importantly was this afternoon when she would receive her first mission as a knight of the Crow’s Order. Elise’s smile widened into a grin as the thought reentered her mind. Yes, her luck was finally turning around.

Parting from the crowd, Elise weaved her way past a row of vendors and entered a narrow street. The street looked innocent enough when a person first entered it, but Elise knew through experience how tricky it could really be. Thankfully, Elise knew the path she had to take by heart; albeit it had taken many months of trial-and-error to get to this point. She zigzagged effortlessly through the labyrinth-like street and, after a few minutes, arrived at her destination. Elise turned towards a door, peeling from age, and pounded on it twice. Thin flakes of old blue paint came loose and drifted towards the ground as well as onto her hand and forearm. Elise grimaced and brushed the faded blue specks off of herself.

“Asher!” she called loudly through the door. “Asher! Open up! It’s me!” She waited for a few moments, but no answer came. Elise frowned. Is he out? she wondered. Strange. Asher was the complete definition of introvert. He rarely ever left his apartment and when he did the furthest he would venture to would be the corner store for when his food supplies were low. Elise rose to her tiptoes and attempted to peer through the porthole-shaped window at the top of the door. She cursed under her breath when she realized Asher had tapped it up making it impossible for anyone to see into his home. Of course. Asher was too paranoid a person to leave his home ‘vulnerable’ in any way.

Elise sighed. What should I do? I need to see him now before I go to headquarters. Elise paced around the front of Asher’s home thinking of what to do next. She was about to give up when she stopped in her tracks. She stared at the door’s brass knob. No, it couldn't be, she thought. She approached the door once again, but this time slowly reached out towards the doorknob and turned it. It was unlocked. Elise almost banged her head against the door in frustration and embarrassment. Of course! More so than being paranoid, Asher was incredibly forgetful especially if he had been up all night working on one of his ‘projects’, which was the majority of the time.

Elise entered Asher’s home, closing the door behind her. She squinted into the darkness, her eyes not yet accustomed to the drastic change in light. Carefully, she stepped further in using the feel of the wall as an indication of where she was. He could at least light a few candles, she criticized. The thin light that managed to leak its way through the boarded up windows was in no way sufficient enough for the human eye. Suddenly, she heard the crackle of glass underneath her foot and she froze. The shards were not isolated to a distinct area either, but, as her eyes began to adjust to the darkness, she could see they were spread across the entirety of the hallway. Not only that, but a bookshelf laid fallen, sections of the wall were scarred by perhaps a sword-type weapon and Asher’s collection of various knickknacks were strewn just about everywhere. Elise’s heart pounded in her ears. Was this a random robbery or a deliberate attack?

Slowly, she unsheathed a dagger that was hidden underneath the folds of her jacket. For all she knew the perpetrators could still be here. She had to be cautious. Careful not to make a sound, Elise eased herself over the overturned bookshelf and gradually made her way towards the furthermost room in Asher’s home, his workroom. She regretted not bringing her spare pistol with her when she left the knights’ barracks this morning, but she had been careless due to her excitement.

Finally, in arm’s reach of the door to Asher’s workroom, Elise slowly pushed it open and peaked inside. She scanned the room and paused when her eyes rested upon a person lying on the ground. “Asher!” Elise exclaimed, forgetting her caution. She raced over to the unconscious man and pushed him over so he was lying on his back. “Asher! Are you alright? Hey! Speak to me!” He wasn’t answering. Was he wounded? Hurriedly, Elise yanked at his clothing and arms, checking for anything life-threatening.

“What are you doing?” Asher groaned. “Why are you manhandling me so early in the morning?” Groggily, Asher propped himself up with one arm and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes with the other.

“It’s almost afternoon, Asher, but more importantly don’t move,” Elise protested. “You could be injured.”

Ignoring her request, Asher lifted himself into a sitting position. “Injured? What the hell are you blabbering about?”

“But, but…” She stared at Asher, bewildered. Besides a bad case of bedhead he appeared to be perfectly fine. “You were on the ground and your home! It’s in ruins! Weren't you robbed?”

He scratched the back of his head. “Ah, I see, so that's what's gotten you all up in arms. Don't worry, no one robbed me. I was on the floor 'cause the last few days had been all-nighters for me. I got so tired I kinda forgot where my bed was,” Asher explained, and then yawned loudly as if right on cue. “And about the mess… well… let’s just say it was an experiment gone wrong.” He glanced at Elise and cracked a humored smile. “Sorry to have made you worry.”

“Shut up,” Elise said, her words muffled by her gloved hands covering her face trying to conceal her embarrassment. “It’s just that if you died it would have been a major hassle for me to find the stuff I let you borrow in this disastrously messy place you call a home.” That was a lie. Elise would have been devastated if Asher had died. She owed so much to him, including her acceptance into a knightly order. She would have liked to say the accomplishment was entirely due to her years of painstakingly hard work, but it would have been impossible for her to have become a knight without his help. She would not have been able to live it down if Asher had been killed before she was able to repay him first.

Slowly, Asher got to his feet and stretched. “Of course, of course. I completely believe you,” he said, still grinning. He cracked his sore-looking neck and gave another loud yawn. “But that's right. You're not here for chitchat. You’re here for business, am I correct?”

Something else stirred across the town, or rather, some-one else. As a the dull golden eye of a man half-blinded crept open, taking in the outer sunlight. the groggy mixture of exhaustion and one too many drinks the night before had pounded all consciousness into the ground and left a sticky paste.. But now he sat up, staring blandly at the nearby windows. Light glared through them brilliantly, and so did his inner hate for that light as it forced a pounding headache to beat the drums of his senses all that much harder.

Canaan Lahire. Knight of the Crow's Order. And he looked a bit of a mess as he got to his feet, feeling the cool wooden flooring of his home greet the flash beneath sent an annoying tingle through him. Silver hair hung around his shoulders in a a mess of individual strings and clumps. It was going to be another of those days.. He knew what they were like.. And he was sure something important would be happening, but he forgot what it was, perhaps it was the booze, the stiff drinks to help empty his head of all thought. He didn't do this often.. And he shamed himself every time he did.

Even as he stepped into the shower. He didn't bother with hot water. Cold was good. If anything was going to kick-start his head, beyond an actual short sharp kick or a thwack from a claw hammer, it was the stinging rain of a cold, cold shower. It went by quickly enough, he guessed his brain was already too numb to feel the rest of his body going cold. Like clockwork he escaped the showers freezing embrace and pulled on his clothes, jeans, a vest, a black longcoat, and he grabbed one final thing, a pair of glasses, though the left on was patched with a cross, the right was the only one with an actual functioning lens.

Canaan Lahire. Knight of the Crows Order. There were some who knew of him and many who didn't, others who only heard the rumours of a knight that supposedly took it upon himself to beat a demon to hell. Rumor-mongering, stories, nonsense.. But those who did know him, knew that Canaan was abnormal, those who knew him knew that Canaan was once a monster on the field of battle, not for his inhuman acts, there were no such things, but he was nonetheless.. Unstoppable.. Almost.. He didn't believe that.. No he knew that if he could lose an eye and bleed, he was mortal enough to perish, one day, somehow, somewhere.
As he stepped out of his home, a claymore-like saber hanging from over his shoulder, a single hand holding the strap up that kept it in place, the other hanging limply, he couldn't help but cringe at the sunlight.

Something was happening today and he was starting to remember.
Oh yes that's right, he was getting a new partner, apprentice, whatever they wanted to call it. Newly inducted knights were treated with kid gloves, given the hand of an older knight to hold on to. Great.. And he was to be one of these babysitters..
Even as he trudged in the direction of the headquarters he was regretting his decision to get out of bed. The Order didn't hold a great deal of respect for him any more.. Not after that incident.. He couldn't blame them really, he didn't hold much respect for himself.. But this was his job, and he was good at it. So what if he became an old warhorse.. Twenty-four years of life gone.. Yet he still felt so much further along..

Canaan Lahire, Knight of the Crows Order..
You useless bastard..