[Fingon leaves Hadriel after the Hope's request- how can he do anything else, when an abomination might yet be fixed?
He goes with his bow- he isn't stupid, not yet at any rate- but the tool he means to use is his harp, for even the lest of the Eldar can work wonders with their music. And while Fingon cannot match his strong-voiced cousin in the workings of the Art, he is not without his own gift either.
So he plays, on and on. Lighthearted songs, for the most part, nothing that could frighten, and all the while he reaches out with his mind, trying to coax a listener into following. Eventually two of the Hosts nervously take up his invitation, and slowly he leads them back to camp.
It's only then, as they approach the city's edge, that an explosion goes off in the distance- and Fingon's Song, delicate and so carefully maintained, snaps from the distraction.
The creatures scamper at the noise, and something about Fingon's irritation at that defeat feels a bit more... off than usual. But no matter- for now, he has to get inside and find out what in the world has happened this time.]
Around the City
[The odd vexation only grows the longer Fingon remains in the city. It makes him restless, on edge even as he examines Fear's Temple, and it pounds behind his eyes ever faster in the hours and days afterward.
And, for a while, he resists. Wrath can be a terrible thing to indulge, as all his people know, and he has seen the cost of letting Rage run loose.
It doesn't last. The hunter's instinct takes him and he prowls the city with a bow in hand, a Song fair and deadly upon his lips.]
Fingon | OTA
[Fingon leaves Hadriel after the Hope's request- how can he do anything else, when an abomination might yet be fixed?
He goes with his bow- he isn't stupid, not yet at any rate- but the tool he means to use is his harp, for even the lest of the Eldar can work wonders with their music. And while Fingon cannot match his strong-voiced cousin in the workings of the Art, he is not without his own gift either.
So he plays, on and on. Lighthearted songs, for the most part, nothing that could frighten, and all the while he reaches out with his mind, trying to coax a listener into following. Eventually two of the Hosts nervously take up his invitation, and slowly he leads them back to camp.
It's only then, as they approach the city's edge, that an explosion goes off in the distance- and Fingon's Song, delicate and so carefully maintained, snaps from the distraction.
The creatures scamper at the noise, and something about Fingon's irritation at that defeat feels a bit more... off than usual. But no matter- for now, he has to get inside and find out what in the world has happened this time.]
Around the City
[The odd vexation only grows the longer Fingon remains in the city. It makes him restless, on edge even as he examines Fear's Temple, and it pounds behind his eyes ever faster in the hours and days afterward.
And, for a while, he resists. Wrath can be a terrible thing to indulge, as all his people know, and he has seen the cost of letting Rage run loose.
It doesn't last. The hunter's instinct takes him and he prowls the city with a bow in hand, a Song fair and deadly upon his lips.]