I'm a n00b & have read through all the threads on the mediearth that are on quarrel but haven't had a chance to go through elite yet - my understanding of the mediverse is limited but this was itching to come out none the less. I had loads of fun writing it so I guess that's what counts.
Thanks to Taji and Longcat for allowing my borrowing of their characters. It's very long so don't read on unless you have an entire half hour to kill 
I did especially hunt out images for those easily bored by text!
Tilting back in her chair Pan leant back her head and stared at the ceiling above. The intricate Elvin carved wood dancing and changing before her eyes, as if the very fibre of her abode held a magnificent ball - but to entertain just a second of its mistress's thoughts.
Staring unseen - the peace - the silence - ah it had been so long since she had felt this calm; so long since she'd been allowed but even this small amount of time alone.
"Mistress" a knock at the door disturbing her silent reverie - a small frown fluttering across her flawless brow as she tilts her Angeline head - ever so slightly her warrior eye focuses on the door, already slowly swinging inward of its own accord. "Sssorry for disturbing mistress - But it is time - the wolf awaitssss you at the entrance to the arena". With a barely noticeable nod Pan dismisses the trembling servant and returns her gaze to the dancing wood.
All her life had led to this moment - all the lives of her ancestors too. Yet the irony of her prophecy would be its complete uncertainty - was it her destiny to hold - or was the Liknaea Warrior still destined to appear many Medi-years from now ... birthed from her daughter - or her daughters daughters perhaps... This was the fate of her bloodline.
For centuries her tribe wandered the four nations of Medi-earth outcast and mistrusted by all nations. A tribe of mystics who's only heritage lay in a myth concerning the birth of the ultimate warrior race - infused with all the qualities of the Orcs, Elves, Dwarves and Humans alike.
Regarded as deluded and nomadic fools the Liknaea pursued their prophecy and experimented with a host of magic’s and science to no avail. Each generation spawning more and more deformed half breeds, mingling characteristics from all four corners of Medi-earth, giving rise to the instantly recognisable figures of the deeply cowled Liknaea in their gargantuan robes. Panacea's beauty had marked a new age for her people ... an awe-inspiringly unique phenomenon for her kind.
Each hundred Medi-years a Liknaea representative is sent forth to the Battlefields - which in itself was largely unnoticed - as the prophecy specifies these representatives are to be woman ... and essentially all representatives have died within weeks of their recruitment - another credit to the humiliation and ridicule of her tribe.
Pan dropped her feet from the table - her boots landing with a thud that seemed to echo around her. "I'm in no mood for ur games commander, why have you brought me here?" Pan moved her head from side to side examining all the seemingly empty corners of her room.
With a mysterious and unsettling shimmer a figure solidifies from deep within the shadows above her - it was unusual for Longcat to do his own spying but not altogether uncommon. He must really care about the outcome to have left his forces in Capital to be here.
A creature of the wind - his shimmering untraceable movements on the ceiling making the Elvin wood dance ever wilder in its awakened senses to an Elvin masters touch, making her feel as if upon a ship in the stormiest of seas.
"You are here because I have brought you here, question me again child and you will not leave this place breathing. Now Go!" With that the frenzied dance of patterns ceased in a single mind numbing instant, as Pan felt the presence of her angered commander disappear.
The hallways were quiet as she made her way to the arena - it was here where it would be decided if she’d acquire the blessing to begin a campaign in Border on behalf of the humans. Along with other successful Border warriors – she would battle to bring her tribe recognition and to win her family a place to finally call home.
Battlefield had surprisingly been too easy - she had arrived late along with her closest friend Taji. Yet she’d made it to the top 20 without blinking - Taji had battled closely behind her. Ever watchful and always strategising , she could see him now …. his golden wolf eyes glowing at her through the darkness of the passage.
Taking his favoured shape of a huge black wolf - Taji had insisted they journey first to the springs of Velis to beg pardon for not representing Pan's Elvin heritage, both her and Taji were human in descent but were also half bloodlined through experimentation by their ancestors to the elves - and would not be forgiven lightly for the betrayal.
The Liknaea were ridiculed universally – but their representatives had become somewhat of a betting game, and her death at battlefield was a hotly gambled upon event; with many left disappointed when she'd left alive. Smiling to herself as she recalled the startled faces that met her victorious aftermaths … too easy.
"Are you ready child - because this will not be as easy?" Taji's voice intruded into the thoughts within her mind - as she blinked at the harsh light awaiting her on the field.
"Have you seen who has been selected to slay me?" Pan cocked her eyebrow at Taji as he considered her in silence - leaning up against the opposite wall she propped her foot up behind her, as she began to rub her temple with one hand. "It's too noisy in your head today child."
"Stop calling me child!" Panacea burst out - you and he should just merge and be done - it's all you OR him ever say to me nowadays that makes any sense." Staring at the floor Panacea felt instantly ashamed. Lifting her head and making eye contact with the wolf, she stood transfixed in an ageless gaze as he considered her. "It's an Orc platoon - the nobility have a lot of money riding on you dying here today." With that Taji turned and disappeared into the darkness leaving an echo in her head "Be careful ... child."
An Orc platoon - finally a challenge she could look forward too - spirits rising, Pan pushed away from the wall and turned towards the arena. Passing out of the shadows of the hallway the warrior entered the light. The sun glinting wildly off her massive sword Mesgedion, her blood red hair rising wildly away from her body as her blood lust magic ignited for battle. She can hear the excited crowd chanting all around her in a unified thunderous call for her death - a startlingly (being Liknaea) beautiful sacrifice for their entertainment.
With the killer in her awake, the usually calm and reserved Panacea is lost to the frenzy of impending battle. If she won here today - before this crowd - she will be allowed to command a human army in Border. If she lost then the clock resets and the Liknaea continue their search for the one.
To Pan these thoughts are no longer a part of her universe, they are a part of a universe fast retreating - where the chanting voices of the crowds came from… a world far away from this battle.
The small figure of a woman strides towards the assembled Orcs. Hair rising wildly around her - usually calm eyes becoming covered with the black haze of her battle sight. Panacea's stride turns into a lope as the Orcs stare bewildered at her - as a pride of lion would consider an attacking gazelle.
An ungodly white light infuses every part of her flailing hair and then her entire body, and finally Mesgedion erupts in a fountain of flame as the running warrior launches herself at the still staring beasts ten times her size….
Blinking the blood from her eyes Pan can faintly hear the hushed whisperings of the arena, the air fizzling with electricity she'd never felt before - a million eyes focused on the slight woman and her gigantic bloodied sword. All around her the moans of dying and wounded Orcs, on the ground around her feet, the body parts of those who'd not reacted in time.
Dropping to one knee, her hair cascading around her as it settled. Supported only by her sword - the blinding pain that accompanied her battle magics set in – losing consciousness she’s aware of the voices around her. The last word's she could hear a communication between her commander and Taji as they carried her from the field.
"We need it soon Taji - she may survive Border without it - but she won't last a Medi-year in Capital if she keeps absorbing the backlash of her magic’s."
"Do not tell me what I already know - she may worship you blindly but it is her command I accept – and hers only, it is a command I will preserve with my own life. My research has identified the item but we'll need the elves support and we are not in their favour."
With that Panacea let the darkness take her, as they disappeared into the hallway at the edge of the arena - still fiercely clutching the blood soaked weapon none but her could wield, leaving a trail of blood in the sand as she disappeared into the darkness of the hallway – losing consciousness to the erupting cheers from the arena - and the lull of the blood song from the soaked sword she was BORN to carry.
Thanks to all who read this far!!!
For those with a half hour to spare: Rise Liknaea Warrior
Mediyear36: #1
Border Elf (Battles defended 841 o.O)
Re: For those with a half hour to spare: Rise Liknaea Warrior
WOWSA!!! You should right a novel... seriously that was truly awesome its all i can do to wait for me... man that was truly good writing *claps* I impatiently look forward to more. 
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