Character: Taeniel Lenneth
Game: Guild Wars 2
Taeniel was leaving the same way she had arrived -- in the middle of the night.
In the darkness of her room, she stuffed what few items she had brought into her satchel. A few shirts, some pants and socks, undergarments. Nothing fancy or frivolous. Her cloak was hanging on the back of the door, where it had been left to dry, her boots underneath it. On the bed lay two weapons, a worn sword and bow. The sword hadn't been worn by her hand, but purchased like that. It's used condition helping lower the price. The same went for the bow. Taeniel held the hope that when they day came for her to wield those weapons, her attacker would take notice of their battle-worn appearance and attribute it to her. Not true of course, she'd barely knew how to use them. She'd been lucky so far, avoiding any outright attacks on the roads when she traveled.
Packing took her only a few minutes. There was only one final thing to get before she left. The item that had started this whole nightmare. Dropping to her knees, Taeniel reached under the bed, her hands reappearing with a small wooden jewelry box. A gift from her mother on her 20th birthday. How long ago that seemed now. Despite her earlier urgency, Taeniel found herself sitting on the bed. She lifted up her left arm and shook it, which caused a delicate silver bracelet to slide down her wrist. Attached to the bracelet was key, something most people would mistake for a charm. Taeniel unclasped the chain and placed the key into the jewelry box's lock. The lid popped open with ease, a gentle melody filling the silence. It's contents stared up at her. A neat stack of white papers, nearly eligible handwriting scrawled across them. Her father's writing. He never was one for neatness, always in a rush to get his ideas out.
Taeniel sighed, one finger running across the edge of the papers. Of course she had read them. Or rather, tried to read them. The terminology her father used was foreign to her. From what she gathered it was a recipe of some sorts, or maybe directions. But it made no absolutely no sense, and he was no longer around to explain it. All Taeniel was sure of, was that he had wanted her to protect those papers with her life. After all, they had cost him his and her mothers.
She tried not to think about that night. The flames that licked the ceiling, her father covered in blood, him pushing the papers at her. Eight long months since that had happened, and everything Taeniel had known had changed forever. She'd been on the move ever since. His dying words had been brief, but her father had made it abundantly clear that she had to keep moving, that those papers couldn't end up in his killers hands. Whoever they were, she was still uncertain. Truth be told, she tried not to think about it much anymore. All it did was cause more confusion and heart ache. Her father had been a damn doctor after all, what could he have possibly done or known to warrant all this chaos and violence? To cause her to have to be on the move constantly.
Sighing again, Taeniel closed the lid of the jewelry box and removed her bracelet, placing it back on her wrist. She stood up and shoved the box into the satchel, pushing it deep down amongst the clothes. She had arrived at this inn five weeks ago and stayed much longer than she had intended. A human living in a Norn village was sure to draw attention that she didn't need.
She placed some money on the dresser counter. It was more than enough to cover her bill and pulled on her cloak and boats. Grabbing her weapons and satchel, Taeniel paused in the doorway giving the room one last glance. She wasn't looking forward to getting back on the road, especially out here. Her cloak wasn't very efficient at protecting her from the snow. But there was no other choice. After all, staying in one place no doubt meant certain death.
Quietly, she opened the door and slipped out into the frigid night.