mayhem || arthur&elwinn
elwinnargo:
μοιρίδιος (moiridios) destined, doomed | for inspiration, listen here Rumors of figures on the ruins of the Keep have pulled both Elwinn and Arthur to the site. Although caught off guard by the appearance of the other, soon, they sense something else on the air: a dark rage that permeates the space around them, creeping beneath their skin and causing a spark of violence on their tongues. With such a feeling, they see distant figures themselves. A god’s curse, the rumor finishes. Beware.
@arthur-belfast
Elwinn was running out of sacred patience. The research was proving itself useless. None of his knights or commoners would bring him anything useful - only rumors heard around the city in ruins. All he wanted was to know what was stopping him from going back to the silent darkness of the North, and so he decided to do the work himself.
He stood in front of what used to be the mighty castle of the Vitello dinasty, now reduced to stones, filth and ashes, showing the real nature of the inhabitants of the region. Lord Argo clenched his jaw at the overwhelming hatred he felt towards them all, as if they had just commited a fault against him. Yet there was nothing. Only dust. The man quickly turned around at the sound of steps, as an intense glare studied the intruder.
There were only so many things Elwinn Argo could force himself to endure, but to tolerate a grown man sneaking behind his back was not one of them, and today was not a day to test Lord Argo’s self-control.
But something distracted him, if only for a brief moment. A strange figure, vague, as if it was formed by snowflakes in the wind, and spoke in whispers.
‘Beware.’
There was only so much he could tolerate.
“Get out of my sight if you want to keep your skin on.”
It wasn’t really like he had been planning on venturing back to the Keep. And he certainly didn’t want to do anything that was dangerous because Pierce had made it very clear that he wanted to steer clear away from all the violence. But that faint whisper of some people passing by the workshop had mentioned people or creatures skulking about at the ruins. Call it curiosity or old habit, but Arthur only hesitated a few hours before making his way to all the rubble himself.
When he first spotted the highborn, the blond had simply thought he was one of the figures the people were gosipping about. He looked suspicious from where he was, which was why he tried to conceal himself belatedly. This lead to a perfect situation for misunderstandings to ensue, but that sudden rage that struck the both of them...
Surely that was not normal. Arthur might have thought harder about it had his blood not boiled in his veins. Had the older man’s voice not grated on his ears. He frowned, crossing his arms and standing his ground. “This isn’t your land and I have not sworn fealty to you; so I’ve no obligation to follow your orders.”













