It was the most spectacular place Lysan had ever seen, and ever would. He stood, dazed at the entrance, spray from the water hitting his back, looking into the caves. Never before had he seen somewhere so beautiful, so perfect, so otherworldly, and he had seen quite a few places in his time. He took his first breath after holding in so many, and sighed. How could a place of such beauty exist in such an imperfect world? It was breathtaking and awe-inspiring; more so than the turning of summer leaves to autumn, more so than the snow-capped peaks of the mountain ranges, more so than the sandy yellow of the desert and more so than the towering white cities of Imythess. “How can a place of such beauty come to pass unharmed?” He spoke aloud – there were no others to hear his talking, and even if there were, he would not care. The Crystal Caves demanded such attention; the meticulously carved walls, and the gems of colour that reflected the piercing light, illuminating the caverns.

It was peace and harmony, untouched and undisturbed by the hustle and chaos of the human world. Nothing could compare to the gleaming sparkles that glittered the blue-tinged floor. Lysan spoke again, his voice rebounding and echoing throughout the caves. ”It is the most magnificent place I have ever seen… but surely, it cannot happen in this world? Surely mankind would have reached it by now, and reduced it to a portion of its glory?” The place was a mystery, for it was wedged between ultimate tranquillity and the hassle of life. Lysan walked towards one of the sparkling wall, feeling a heathen on sacred ground. He knew he didn’t belong; this place was not made for the likes of him. He carried on, however, and held out a hand to touch the crystals. They were hard and sharp, yet warm and soft at the same time. The caves had their own defences against intruders, the feeling that while you may be there, you are not welcome.

With the rushing torrent of the waterfall fast becoming silent behind him, he walked slowly and purposefully into the increasingly light cavern. All was silent within – not once did he hear the tell-tale sound of a human voice, or the soft padding of a boot. There was nothing, except for him and the crystals. Then suddenly, all at once, things didn’t seem so brilliant. He was alone inside a crystal prison, and while this couldn’t possibly be true, he was scared of the seemingly enclosing walls. “What kind of creature can the human mind be to possibly conjure up this… fear…” He sighed and drifted to his knees. “This place is not meant for me, nor my kin, nor any others of the human race. Elves may sing of this place, but it was not made for us…” He got up from his knees, and stared at the crystal.

((OOC: Kind of a icky post, but I'm really tired, so cut me some slack, lol. ))

Against the words of the old man, he found himself standing in front of the massive falls before him. Glitters of light seemed to sparkle through the sparkling water of the falls, giving the place a much majestic feel. Eager to explore deeper within the caves, he would begin his way around to the side of the falls, before dipping behind them and into the cave. Stopping just at its threshold, he would glance back briefly only to realize that neither Geist nor Cypher had been following him. Lifting a curious brow, his emerald hues would scan across the area, until landing upon a dark black blur on the other side of the falls. Just then a soft laughter rose forth from his larynx, but he would quickly stifle it as soon as he heard a voice come from within the cave.

Returning his full attention back upon the cave before him, his eyes would narrow slightly. Was it someone who had come to defile the cave’s sanctity, or was it another curious person much like himself? Whoever it was, they wouldn’t leave without facing him first, that much was certain. Placing a hand upon the hilt of the massive blade at his side, he would slowly withdraw it and bring it down to a rest at his side.

Unfolding his wings from around his narrow frame, they would span outwardly for a brief instant, before tucking themselves ever so carefully behind him. And it would be at that moment, he would press forward and plunge deeper into the cave, careful not to make much noise. The last thing he wanted was his arrival to be expected, especially if this person had been some sort of thief. Again the voice would come, but this time it would make his ears twitch from the amplification that the walls had added to it. Echoes…They more often than not held any certain effect upon a human’s ears, but it was much more different for him.

Faltering in his steps for a few moments, he would simply glance across the walls that surrounded him, taking in their beauty while he still could. But his thoughts would swiftly return to the being still within the cave and the words it had spoken prior to his entering the caves. Relinquishing a tiring sigh, his voice would echo forth in a somewhat dark tone, “Places like these remain as such, because of people like me who only wish to preserve that integrity. If you’re here to collect souvenirs or to even deface such a place, then you will not leave this cave with your life, Mystery man.” Never had he felt so strongly about something in his entire life. At least not enough to shed blood over…

Re-gripping his sword, his digits would bind themselves tighter around the leather like working of the hilt. He would be prepared should the time come that it would need to be wielded at his defense, or even his offense, whichever should come first. Taking in a deep breath, he would delve further into the cave until the man would come into his view, at which point he would stop dead in his tracks. In a deep subtle tone, he would speak again, “I’m not a violent man, so I will allow you a chance to explain yourself and your reasoning for being here. But just be warned, I’m not as gullible as I may seem, so lying won’t help you in the least.”

All of a sudden, Lysan felt a wash of regret drift over him. What am I doing here? So far from the place I name home. Lysan sighed. But where is home? For me; I do not know. Long ago I lived in a small village, and had thought that my home, yet at the same time I knew it was not, that I was destined for greater things. New feelings arrived to Lysan’s body, some that he had never known before. Internal conflict and a desire for answers, and perhaps the questions that accompanied these answers. What is my purpose? And for where am I bound? He didn’t know how to feel and what to do; sitting on the cold, stone floor, thinking about everything around him. He normally had no time for such things, as the hustle and bustle of city life and Lysan’s own somewhat dangerous lifestyle certainly kept him occupied. “I swear, never shall I return to a place such as this; to relax and to think.” He was close to tears, not knowing what to do. Suddenly, he got up and walked back to where he could still hear the distance rumbling of the Memphian falls. “So far from the place I call home. I cannot allow this to happen again…”

Later on, he remembered coming to a halt, watching the sword with a look of surprise and confusion, a look tinged with the subtle demeanour of horror. Oh Gods… he remembered thinking, referring to the last few times he had moved anywhere outside the city of Taras, for always had he found the end of a sword point; and never that of his own. On instinct, as soon as he had realised that there was a man waiting in front of him, he reached for the place where his sword, Lionhart, a beautifully crafted rapier given to him by a merchant at Halloween, rested in its scabbard. He would stop, however, and look more at the man. He was ready; a sword already held high – and a dangerous looking blade at that. Were Lysan to attempt to draw his rapier, he would most likely be cut to pieces. So instead he had put up his hands.

When the man spoke; a deep, almost chilling tone, a rush of fear ran through Lysan. His thoughts returned to his earlier revelations; to the beauty and majesty of the place. How could someone fight in a place so perfect? How would Lysan ever fight in a place so perfect. To his luck, the man seemed uninterested in fighting till he had heard Lysan out, so he readied his excuse. It wasn’t really an excuse – it was the exact truth, to the letter. Lysan spoke in a rushed, hurried whisper, making ready a spell – to summon a vicious Black Knight he had won in a competition at Halloween – if needs be. He hoped to the seven hells he did not have to. “Wait! I… I have come here out of curiosity, for some of my friends from the city of Taras were speaking highly of this place. I decided to visit, and was taken aback by the gloriousness. But now, I wish nothing more than to leave. Feelings have been stirred within me that I would prefer undisturbed. Please, let me through. I have done nothing untoward to the caverns.” He hoped that was enough.

Diligently his emerald hues would scan across the form of this man, taking in every inch of the man’s body into his memory. A sword adorned his side, but other than that, there really wasn’t much of a threat of anything shy of a melee assault. But should the man be foolish enough to even think about drawing that blade, he would be quickly missing an arm. Violence normally wasn’t his style, no less blood shed, but when someone messed with something he felt strongly about, he would defend that with the utmost conviction. The same would go for his sister, but it wasn’t like she needed his help anymore, she was a Goddess.

Quickly his thoughts would return to the man, as he watched the man’s hand make a movement to the blade, but suddenly faltered in its movements just shy. A wise decision it was, considering Varonen would be prepared for such an act and it would take little effort to cut him down in the time. Most would allow their opponent to draw the blade, but not Varonen, because honor had no connection to the protection of nature itself.

Just then the man’s voice carried itself to his ears, causing them to twitch again in the response of the amplified nature of the cavernous walls around them. His words seemed to be sincere and his reason only rivaled his own for coming to such a place. Against his better judgment, he would lift the massive blade before him and quickly sheathe it, before returning his hand to his side. Should the man prove to be a danger after all, he still would have a trick up his sleeve and that was his stone skin ability. But time would tell if he really needed to be as cautious as he had been. Taking in a deep breath, he would begin to speak in a soft subtle tone this time, “Sometimes I can be too forgiving and lenient, but I’m hoping it’s not for poor judgment. Now come…Let us return to the falls and leave this place as it were.” Stepping aside, his body would turn so his wings would touch against one of the cave walls in order to allow the man passage. Offering his arm outwards in guidance to go past him and towards the cave entrance, he would allow him time to pass by him before picking up a pace behind him. Again his voice would sound, this time somewhat melodic in its tone, “The name is Varonen Skeirs. Normally I’m not so rigid, but if I weren’t. Would you have taken me so seriously? And besides, isn’t violence the only way to get things done nowadays? Seems no one ever listens to reason, despite it being the better judgment to do so.”