The building bustled and hummed as usual, despite the hour the tavern was still full of people. As the people passed and drank, a jolly air filled the air, laughter and jokes flew through the room like arrows on a battlefield. However, at the bar sat one golden locked girl, drinking from a glass bottle of a light brown liquid. It smelt terrible and burned like fire as it trickled down her throat. As she sat that, she stared off into the distance, through the walls and the fields beyond, she stared to a time much earlier than this one. Back before she had the scars upon her face that would remind her of her dreaded days for the rest of time. “Annie, Annie come on let’s go already!” Cried a hushed voice. As Annelie, crawling from a window, turned to look at her she would see it’s source. A beautiful young Avanthar, just outside her late teens. Her hair was long, a deep dark brown that one could be lost in, and her eyes that were bluer than the seas. All these things never ceased to make Annelie stop and stare, her breath whisking from her lungs in a single moment. “I’m...I’m coming, give me a second Rosa.” She replied in a similar tone. The two girls were at it again, sneaking out of their master’s house to go enjoy a night to themselves. But as they ran off towards town Annie’s mind would suddenly snap back to the present, the sound of crying girl suddenly brought her back. When she looked about, her half burnt features rested on the scene of a young Avanthar being harassed by a group men. The Nelfin girl looked distraught and helpless, however Annie didn’t move, didn’t seem to care as she turned back to her drink. Suddenly, beside her she heard a distant voice, but a familiar one. It was a voice soft as silk and sweet as honey, one that could always melt Annie’s heart down to a puddle. As she turned to the voice, she was greeted by eyes bluer than the sea, and hair as thick as a forest. A smile rested on their lips before they spoke. “What are you doing Annie? Go and help her, you know it’s right.” And just as quickly as she seemed to appear, with the blink of an eye, she was gone. The woman looked about for a moment but saw her nowhere to be found, that familiar face, that voice of the one she once loved. Her fists tightened and a small growl escaped her as she stood from her seat, rage boiled her blood and sent her body into its own paces. With a roar the halfling ripped one of the men to the floor and proceeded to beat him, she pinned him to the ground by sitting on his stomach as she started using her gloved fists to smash at every part she could. Her animalistic type fighting, seemed to send the other men running as those in the bar sat and watched in horror and disgust. Chest, head, neck and arms, Annie went for it all. It wasn’t until the guards arrived and pulled her blood soaked self off the man that she would stop, but by that time it was far too late, the man was head. That night, as she sat in a cell, she didn’t sit alone. A familiar face, that voice soft as silk, sat with her. It comforted her and told her everything would be fine, but the discomfort never faded. (This is actually an older story, just posting it because I am tailoring her Character app.)
