"The spirit of your children still lies within you Drow, I was merely amusing them and my steeds wild nature nothing more." She winked and flicked the sword away and sheathed it, "My apologies for the abrupt change but I am as the winds are, changing at any moment." She extended a gloved hand toward him.
Vistalzidar eyed the hand dubiously for a moment before finally reaching out to grasp it. Instantly, he found himslef losing his barings and found himself lying on his back on the leaf covered floor of the forest, the Hunterss' foot upon his chest.
She smiled down at his scowling form. "Have you not entertained the spirit's of my children enough?" he asked angrily as she chuckled and removed her foot.
Vistalzidar stood, his hand on the hilt of his Shadow Sword. "Please, no more games," he pleaded. "I come to apologise for my behaviour in the inn earlier and to seek your company once more. Although I swore to myself that I'd never associate with your kind again, I cannot deny the thing which bades me to do so."
"Therefor I ask you, will you accept me as your companion once more?" Vistalzidar held out a hand to the Huntress. "I would be greatly honoured to fight beside you."
OOC:Nice save dwarfdude!
It's gonna be a day or two till I get a working XP disc but in the meantime I have my friends old computer he lent me yesterday.
Great story, too bad I couldn't be a part of most of what has been going on till now.
The night sky was cloudless, Istalindir sat by the window and gazed at the stars, something he often did when he needed to clear his head. How he got himself mixed up with these people he didn't know but it was pointless to ponder the thought now that everyone has gone their separate way. To what fate did they leave he wondered, where would his fate lead him.
The air was whispering, something was going on in town, he stared at the empty streets, nothing but a soft breeze.
"They're coming..." came a soft whisper to his ears, he could not stay here any longer, the wind was carrying a warning, he was in danger. He grabbed his bag and quickly packed his belongings, his bow was on his back with his quiver and his sword at his side. He covered himself with his cloak and approached the window, an arrow came flying his way but swerved aside as if pushed, it struck the window sill. Istalindir waisted no time, he leaped brilliantly from the window landing cleanly on the alley floor below without making a sound. The night livened with the music of bow strings being plucked, arrows whistled by him, always missing, always being blown away by currents of wind that were working hard in his favor. He could not yet see the shooters but he suspected them to be the town guards. He ran quickly out of the alley, arrows following close behind. He ran with his cape flowing out behind him in the wind and footsteps following him padding lightly into the night.
'What have I done to harm you', Istalindir called out to the moving shapes approaching from the rooftops. The only answer he got were more arrows flying his way, 'I wish you people no harm', he called out, forced to run towards the town walls, 'I will not fight you!', he called to the approaching guards. They would not listen to him, they drew their swords and stood ready, 'Kol-amin Kel-tuulo` Sinome', Istalindir whispered and then leaped clear over the fence with a strong burst of wind landing him softly on the other side. He ran silently without looking back until he got under the protection of the forest that blanketed the hillside. Voices shouted from inside the town threatening him and his friends not to return but they slowly died off and faded back into town. The horse and supplies that the kind bartender had provided were left behind in the stables by the inn but it made little difference to Istalindir who grew up in the forest, living off whatever nature could provide. The night grew silent, the town guards were back in town and Istalindir made his way silently through the forest in the dark, to find a place he could rest the night.
OOC😖o, we got thrown out? I'm gunna go on that assumption.
IC: Njord watched the vampire return to her room. As the door shut, he smiled, whispering.
"Sure thats all."
He shook his head, and wondered. Had she done any good? Or possibly made things worse? He would know not, until he saw the Drow again. He sighed and headed for the bar.
A dog outside started to bark, and Njord whipped his head around to see the town guard entering the tavern. They saw him immeadiatly, and made a bee-line for him. All 17 of them. He started to drink a cheap ale, only to serve as a pretend distraction. He sensed them as they stalked him to the counter. Two tapped him on either shoulder.
"Sir,I'm afraid you'll have to come with us."
He turned, looking surprised.
"What have I done, good soldiers?"
"You stir trouble here."
He laughed a fake good-natured laugh.
"Aw, come now, I've done nothing! Now, if I wanted to stir trouble, I'd do something a bit like this."
He smashed the two's heads together, and they slumped to the floor. The rest yelled at people to move away, although most of them had fled the building already. Njord whispered inb a nordic tongue and the owner's three dogs launched themselves upon guards, respectivly. Njord drew his two swords. The bar was now completely empty, even the barkeep had run. It was just 12 gaurds and Njord.
Three of them charged him. He kicked one to the floor and crushed his chest, and decappitated the others with one swing of his two swords. All of the gaurds nodded, and charged, all 9. Njord leaped back on to a table, and sicked the three dogs on three of the front chargers. He kicked one in the face, stab, slash, uppercut, slash, and scissor sliced the last one's head off.
He stood there, covered in thick red blood, panting slightly. The guards lay groaning, or dead. He sheathed his swords, fetched his cloak and spear, screwed the blade back on, mounted his horse, and galloped away into the night, looking for his companions.
OOC: The writing’s been quite lovely from you guys lately. Or…I guess I can just say it normally as in you peoples have been writing really nice
A fierce tug was felt at Veleanith’s arm, a soft hand shaking her repeatedly. She pulled away roughly from the small furry hand, turning her back to the source with a face full of frustration. The shaking continued as she tightened the sheets around her, curling up. She hated being waken up and was forcing herself not to lash out at the source, especially considering the time of day it was.
A hot breath was suddenly felt across her arm. She ignored it, focusing back on her sleep but instantly popped up at feeling sharp teeth sink into her arm. Her eyes popped open as she jumped up, falling from the bed as she let out a yelp. On the hardwood floor, she rubbed at the bite mark on her arm, swearing viciously. She wrapped her sheets around her, peering over the edge of the bed to see the fox boy looking to her anxiously.
Drumming her fingers along the mattress, she raised a brow to him. “Would you mind telling me just what you are doing here…NOW!!” she finished in a shout, a fury in her eyes.
The boy, unperturbed by her outburst, started to throw her shirt and shorts to her. “Well, for one, guards are on the prowl after all the drama that went on last night. Second, you are seen to be innocent and are to be released from the cells,” He looked out the window, the sun high above the rooftop. “Twenty minutes from now. But obviously,” He took her cloak from the floor, securing her rapier and bow to the side. “You are not there. So you either have to play the role of the chained up innocent,” He put her cloak over her shoulders. “Or make it as far away as possible in the next twenty minutes. What do you say?”
Veleanith sat on the floor, taking in the information. She had already placed on her shirt and started to slide her shorts on beneath the sheets. “I see…” She put her hands through her cloak, keeping her gaze on her robe as she tied it close. “Little boy, call it my curiosity acting up, but why are you helping me?”
The little boy beamed, taking out a gold coin and holding it on his thumb. “A flip of the coin,” he flipped the coin into the air, as it fell, catching it in his palm.
“To think, you warning me depended on the outcome of a coin flip,” She placed her hair hurriedly into her robe and placed the sheets neatly on the bed. She put on her hood and walked up to the window, stopping at the opening. “You sure that’s the only reason you bothered?”
He flipped the coin again, gold twirling in the light. Unlike earlier, it fell to the floor in a heavy thud, rolling to her feet. He took off his hat, giving a slight bow. “That…and it was an interesting time having you around. Assassinations and battles, treachery and deception, all in one night, it’s like a tale of lore,” He raised his head, a sly, teeth revealing smile across his face. “And the gold was a nice perk as well! You can keep that one coin though. By the way, Miss, my name is Deus.”
Veleanith picked up the coin, placing it back inside her bulging coin bag. “Deus, eh? You can call me Vele,” She gave a fang revealing smile, her eyes back to their bright hazel form. “Much thanks, don’t spend your coins foolishly.” She gave a salute as her way of saying goodbye, descending from the window and landing lightly to the ground.
Wasting no time, she walked hurriedly to her horse near the entrance of the town. She nuzzled her softly, whispering quietly into Midi’s ear. She mounted her, quickly motioning for the exit of the town and without further delay, trod off rapidly away from Mardonin.
Veleanith shivered slightly, lying down on her back in an ankle deep brook. Her hair spread out over the surface of the water, a black covering for any inhabitants of the liquid. She dragged her fingers along the gravel, her mind on the skies and her journey. As usual, halfway through her ride she had decided to take a break, her, along with her horse who she had managed to steal a few more vegetables for.
Sighing, she splashed her face with water, blinking under the sudden cold. She sat up, bringing her knees to her chest and blanketing herself with her wet hair. Lying down in the water, she had started to realize she was losing focus. ‘Ever since I have arrived in Astradom…been doing nothing but chasing strangers and shadows in the dark…it’s the main reason I get myself into so much trouble. Only my dreams wake me up to my anxieties…to my oath of vengeance,’ closing her eyes, she gripped onto the jade gem around her neck, breathing heavily.
Splash
“I promise I would get you vengeance brother, and I will,” she said fiercely. She looked up into the light blue sky through the trees, having fallen onto her back once more. Her expression, which had turned bitter, changed into one of being nervous and annoyed all at once. “However, first I should get myself from this area. I can tell just from the whispers of the grass…the slight movement of the trees…he’s around.”
A sneer formed across her face as she placed a cheek to the water. “A demon from my past…” her grip tightened around the gravel in the water. “If I don’t make it from his territory within the night, I guess I shall have to hide it in. Lovely,” she finished sarcastically, turning her agitated golden gaze to the skies.
Her nose then started to itch, rather violently at that, and before she could stop herself, she let out a loud sneeze, causing several birds to screech, flying from the trees. She scrunched up her face, wiping her nose. “It’s nothing of seriousness. As long as it does not happen twice in-” Another itch came, worse than the first and she sneezed loudly, covering her mouth with both hands. She sniffled, coming to the realization that she might be getting a cold. “Damn…”
Vistalzidar bowed, hand to heart, his silken silver hair billowing around his dark form in brilliant ripples. "I am Vistalzidar Ae'ellanea Xillessidor, Assassin of the Eigth Prong of the Silver Oak Sect, council member of the once great Drow city of Isgallioth, third cousin of High Elder Kallazidor Ge'talliot Istallia of the Isgallioth High Council."
He rose back to his full high, his silver eyes flashing in the moonlight. "Pleased to finally know something about you, Lady Huntress." He grinned, "Even if I did swear I'd never associate myself with Elves again."
Vistalzidar strode over to the shattered tree and retrieved his arrow, placing it back into his quiver. He then clucked and Ne'kalsa walked over to him, where he mounted.
"It is a superb night," Vistalzidar commented as he gazed up through the canopy. He turned his silver gaze upon Melcanin once more. "Would the Lady Huntress care to join me on a ride? We may as well put some distance behind us before we turn in for the night. If we head south, I am sure we will run into the others somewhere along the way." He smiled, "Although it wouldn't upset me too much if we didn't."
OOC: Sorry if I’m sorta rushing the days or making time go by too quickly…I’ll try not to do so in the future so much…oh, and on a side note, considering I might not have much internet access starting from Thursday to the rest of the holiday season, consider these extended posts before I go, a way of making up for that little fact…
A loud neighing struck through the silence of the coming evening, interrupting Veleanith’s sleep. Sleepily, she tightened her grip around her cloak, looking through the grassy opening of the cave she had chosen to dwell in, the waning light of day managing to come through the cracks. Nothing seemed to be out of the norm and yet…Midi wouldn’t stop her noise, it increasing by each passing second.
Opening up both eyes, she threw her cape off of her shoulders and pushed her head through the doorway, turning to Midi who she had placed by a tree. “Midi-” She stopped mid sentence, the sunlight filtering her view, lighting up the scene.
Standing by her horse, desperately trying to rein Midi in was several elvish type throwing ropes over her horse. She would’ve commented, but found several others, around fifty elvish along with other types aiming to her with arrows. Standing directly over her casting a shadow over her sitting form was a tall handsome elf, long flowing dark brown hair in the wind. His grey eyes held a mischievous look, a smile across his lips as he spoke in a sly tone, an arrow aimed inches away from her forehead. “Velean…”
Veleanith blinked, temporarily stunned. She hadn’t actually been expecting to be confronted, especially during the middle of the day. She suppressed the urge to toss the ground about and instead placed her index finger to the tip of the sharp arrow. “Hold that thought,” She ducked her head back inside the cave, after a moment, coming back out with her cloak on. She looked up to the holder of the arrow and sighed, a tired smile across her face. “And to what do I owe the honor, Ambrosia?”
“You remembered,” He pulled back the arrow further, leaning his head to the side. “I did not think I would ever see you again. Can’t say I’m not glad though.”
At seeing his smile grow wider, she rolled her eyes and crawled from the opening fully. “What do you want from me?”
He looked to his men, motioning them to lower their bows and arrows as he lowered his. His smile turned into a mysterious expression as he stared off into the distance. “I require your assistance, Vele. I need from you a ‘small’ task, nothing more.”
Veleanith dusted herself off, a skeptical smirk across her face. “And you think I’ll help you because…?”
The sound of multiple bows and arrows being prepared were heard. Ambrosia raised his bow once more, an arrow to the tip of her nose. “Ever been shot with fifty arrows?”
Muttering a curse beneath her breath, she got up onto her knees. She sat Indian style, her arms crossed. “Do you forget whose territory you are on?” she asked clearly, spreading out her arms to motion to the swaying trees and the rustle of the grass.
“Do you forget that I have mastered your skill far better than you ever will?” he countered, closing an eye as he aimed down to her. “Getting killed by your own element would be quite the insult, the arrows being the injury.”
She placed her arms down, leaning to the side on her palms. “So you wanted me to do what now?”
Lowering his bow and arrow, his face gained a smirk. “Good girl,” He placed the bow behind his back as he started to turn around to a chestnut colored horse. “You can think of it as an infiltration type of hit. I’ll explain it out to you as we head to the town. It’s heading south so I ho-”
“Pass. I have other things on my agenda.” Veleanith cracked her whip, drops of blood sliding down onto the grass. She didn’t have time to take out her rapier but she figured she wouldn’t need it. In a quick movement, she cracked it to the back of Ambrosia’s head but to her astonishment it stopped inches away as he turned around with what looked to be a green rose in his hand.
He held out the rose to the front of the whip, lowering it downward slightly. To Veleanith’s complete mystification, her rose followed suit, the whip lowering to where his rose was. She pulled it back, starting on a series of swirls and strikes but for each move made, the green rose countered perfectly. She muttered, extending the stem of the rose back to a normal size before placing it back into her robe.
Getting up from the ground, she marched over to Ambrosia, looking to his rose curiously. She started to reach for it, but he quickly pulled it from her reach. He tapped her lightly on the nose. “Look, don’t touch.”
Veleanith made another grab for the new rose, but he quickly pulled it away. She balled up her fists at her side. “Do…NOT…toy with me. It is bad enough that you woke me from my sleep and attempted to kidnap Midi…and now you make a prototype of my rose?” She tried to snatch it once more, but he placed it inside his cloak. Holding her head in her hands frustrated, she mumbled. “Could you not have been original with it?”
Ambrosia removed her hands from her face, holding onto them gently. “It’s no prototype, Velean. It’s perfect in every way, counters and blocks all plant type affinity. It also can work as a threat detector, what with the constant conversing of the plants there’s not much one wouldn’t know,” He pulled her close, looking out into the sky. “With your rose and mine combined, it would be the per-”
“You are still holding onto my hands because…?” interrupted Veleanith, her face scrunched up in irritation. She snatched her hands away, shaking away the feeling of him holding them with disgust. She looked back to him, eyeing where he had placed the rose.
“Vele, why do you choose to make this hard?” He ran a hand through his hair, a fake look of frustration across his face, his eyes holding nothing but amusement. “It’s simple, you help us or we kill you. Is it so-”
“I get it!” snapped Veleanith, rubbing her temple vigorously with her knuckles. She wasn’t in the mood to go on a side quest; she needed to get to the Land of the Dead. While the path didn’t necessarily deter her from her route, she could picture herself doing anything but helping Ambrosia out. After thinking about her situation deeply, she let out a loud groan of frustration. “Fine. I shall fulfill this request of yours…” She motioned out into the open with a hand. “Lead the way.”
“Of course,” In higher spirits that she had agreed, he snapped his fingers. His minions released her horse who, immediately trotted over to her. She mounted her horse, raising an eyebrow in Ambrosia’s direction. He had already climbed onto his horse and without a second word motioned her in his direction.
“Let us see what he wants with us…” she purred into Midi’s ear, watching Ambrosia cautiously as she trotted to his side. She rode to his side, rubbing Midi’s neck. “Well…?”
Ambrosia glanced to her, muttering something beneath his breath, a dazed look in his eyes. He shook it away, turning ahead. “I’ll explain it out once we reach camp. Until then…” He gave her a wicked smile, pushing his horse into a run. “Try and keep up.”
“Oh really?” she smiled, eager for the challenge. She sped up her horse and the two, followed by his minions began their race into the night…
((To be continued…))
Njord trotted through the woods on his massive steed, his spear at his side, his swords sheathed, and his shield slung to his back. He was used to being alone, so the small noises made by plants and animals, did not stir him. He seemed to be in a meditational like state, his eyes closed, but his muscles tense, as if listening for something far away. He began to chant, in a rough druidic language.
"Ja-kil faw hect nasee, rok lish facnt ty-sia,
ja-kil faw hect nasee, rok lish facnt ty-sia,
ja-kil faw..."
The chant whispered through the trees, the grass, and animals started to appear from everywhere. Birds, rabbits, squirrels, deer, even a few wolves and a bear. They watched the Celtica-man with curiousity, and he stopped his horse, still with closed eyes and still chanting. He began to open his eyes, and they were white. Tiny whisps of white....gas, it seemed, flew out of the animal's eyes and into his own. He flinched as each whisp touched his eyes, seeing what those animals had seen in the last 48 hours or so. He discarded each memory, going trough them quickly. Then a came to a squirrels memory, as he flicked through it, he saw a girl, a vampire, lying in a stream. He nodded, and memorized the surroundings. He then came to a hawks memory, and he saw a large amountof elves camping near in the middle of the forest. The last thing he saw was the bear's memory, as she lumbered back to her cave, she saw the vampire from the squirrels memory. She was mounting a horse, surrounded by elves with bows and arrows, along with another elf who looked nobler than the rest. They raced off.
Njord quickly stopped chanting, connecting the dots and beckoning the three animals to him. First he whispered to the squirrel, and they, the bear, Njord, and the hawk, set off following the squirrel to the place where he had seen the vampire. They reached a small brook quickly, and Njord dismounted from his horse, scanning the ground with his black eyes. He smiled and found a strand of hair, belonging to his vampire freind. He thanked the squirrel and threw it some sunflower seeds from his pack, he remounted his horse and then whispered to the bear. She nodded and led the hawk and Njord to her cave. Njord again dismounted and looked inside the cave. Another hair strand. That confirmed it. Now he looked extremely hard, and found a few elven hairs, along with a few broken twigs, heading southeast. He nodded in thanks to the bear, and gave her a peice of dried beef from his pack, and then spoke in the rough nordic tongue again, asking if his horse could stay here protected. The bear nodded, her hunger satisfied with the beef, and Njord tied his steed to a nearby tree. He patted him on the nose, rubbed his neck, and then turned to the hawk.
"Now where is this camp...."
The hawk nodded and took to the sky, flying in the same direction of the broken twigs. It occasionally perched on a branch and waited for Njord, who ran behind it, never faltering in speed. The hawk perched on the ground before Njord and started to walk along the ground, and Njord got the message. They wereclose now, and he had to be quiet. Njord slowed and gripped his spear with two hands, being extremely quiet dispite his size. He moved foward until the hawk stopped walking and spread its wings, motioning for him to stop. Njord did so and got of thew broken twig path, hiding behind a tree as the hawk took to the sky to patrol the camp. The hawk was back in about two minutes, and nodded. Njord thanked the bird and threw him a dead hare carcass he had brought. The hawk looked delighted and grasped it in his talons, flying away to the north again.
Njord watched his freind leave and then began to slowly move forwards through the leaves, bushes, and trees. He saw the camp, and began to crawl towards it on his belly, disturbing only a few bushes. He peaked out from one, seeing the vampiress and the noble elven one from the memory. He watched completely still, his spear tense and ready for action.
He had really only done this for reconassience, but he wondered if the vampiress was here by her own will, or forcable. He held his breath as they entered a tent, and watched and waited patiently, deciding between letting her be or going in and getting her.
OOC: Nice Dwarfdude, liked how you did that…
*Continued…
Veleanith walked Midi over to a nearby tent pole. After the race to the site (which had ended in a tie) she figured Midi would need more rest than she did. Hugging her gently around the neck, she whispered. “Do not worry…it should not take more than a day or two before we are back on our journey. But until then, I shall leave you in Ambrosia’s territory,” She looked into Midi’s eyes. “He will take good care of you, despite the fact he is a bit of a pompous arrogant self-absorbed teasing pig-headed competitive manipulating-”
From behind her came a cough along with a squeeze of her shoulder. “I do love how you forgive and forget,” muttered Ambrosia dryly from behind her. She turned around to see him glancing to the side. He turned to her and gently grabbed her arm. “Some things should just be forgotten…after twenty years, do you not think I would have changed, just a bit?” There was an almost pleading look to his eyes.
Yanking her arm away, she turned from his gaze. “I did not say that…I just hold on too tightly to the past,” she narrowed her eyes, turning on her heels into a lighted tent like sort of home. She ducked beneath the tent flap, sitting on a wooden table of the dimly lit home, several items across the surface.
Shortly after came Ambrosia, he placing his back against a silver pole in the center of the room. Pounding her fist on the table in her impatience, she spoke. “You do realize I have not come here to redo the past. What is it you want of me?!”
“See you’re still patient, Velean,” He walked up to her, grasping her face in a hand. With his free hand, he stroked her face tenderly. She turned away with her nose upturned whereas he quickly turned her face back to his. “Cut it, Vele. You never minded me…or to clarify, you never despised me this badly,” She crossed her arms in her contempt, trying to turn away but was quickly stopped as he tightened his grasp. “What…is there another you’re being loyal for?”
Her eyes widened in surprise, her face flushing as she lowered her gaze, realizing she had given too much away. She felt her tone grow weak. “Ambrosia, stop-”
“But if there is another, where is he?” he interrupted, a cold look shadowing the once cheerful grey in his eyes. He loosened his grip on her face, holding her chin lightly in his hand. He looked down to her, his eyes heavily filled in scrutiny. “Obviously, he’s not with you so it can mean only so many things. Perhaps he had the lucky fortune of dying before he got to know you. Maybe he parted separate ways with you? Or maybe…maybe there’s someone else on his mind-”
“Shut it!” Veleanith pulled herself from his grasp, pushing him away as she walked to the center of the tent. She leaned her head to the pole, annoyed at his little mind games. “Just…shut it.”
Ambrosia nodded his head. “That must be it. You would not get so frustrated if it were otherwise.”
“Nooo…” she drawled out slowly. She turned back to face him, her arms crossed. “I just did not wish to hear the real reason spoken out loud,” She felt her gaze wander to the side of the tent in thought. ‘Okay Vele, now you’re just being naïve…and possibly a bit hopeful. Or childish. Or-’ Ambrosia’s voice cut into her thoughts, along with a snap of his fingers.
“Velean, you with me?” He waved a hand in front of her face. At seeing her eyes wander back and forth, he lowered it, sitting down to the ground. “Good,” He motioned for her to follow suit and once she had done so, began to speak. “Now to get to business. A few weeks ago, me, along with my group of comrades were approached by a gentleman who provided us with a little ordeal to test our luck. Normally we don’t accept things of the sort but the money was good…and I do love a challenge. We were to kill a nobleman within the next village, we along with a few others who were approached for the task.”
Veleanith shrugged. “So kill him. I have nothing to do with it.”
“That’s the thing, we’ve tried,” he pounded his fist into his palm. “I have sent five of my men already and none have returned. It is starting to seem near damn impossible to get the guy. But…” He turned to her with a raised eyebrow. “With a skilled assassin on our side, it might make things easier.”
Looking to her palm, Veleanith started to mutter as she healed the pricks from the thorns of her rose. Between working, she acknowledged him with an apathetic tone. “You mind telling me what exactly I will be up against before you consider me on your ‘side’?”
Ambrosia looked up in thought. “Well, from what my spies around the area have gathered, the guy apparently knows something is up. He has several guards around the complex, each with their own affinity. Elves from the east carry lightning affinities, bear like beings from the west, fire, do not ask me how he managed to recruit them but Drow, they carry-”
“Shadow, I know,” cut off Veleanith, focusing on their conversation. She started to shake her head. “You expect of me to go up against Drow bodyguards? I’ve seen shadow magic up close and personal,” She clutched onto her neck tenderly, remembering what the stranger did with the lizard man. “It is truly a beautiful art, darker than the blackest night. I would much rather not-”
“Come on, Vele,” Ambrosia looked to her with a daring smile. “Are you telling me the prospect of going up against them does not excite you in the least?”
“That it does…” she placed a finger to her bottom lip with an innocent expression. “Among other things.”
“Oh really…” He drifted off, starting to slide a hand up her leg. “Like what…?”
Veleanith turned to him with a smile, placing her hand on top of his. “Like the idea of being…FAR,” Her last word came out a shout as she pinched the top of his hand roughly. “FAR…away from you,” She slapped his hand from her thigh, standing up and leaning to the table with an expression of disgust. “Pig…” she muttered bitterly.
Laughing off her comment, he walked over to her side. “If you do it, you realize you’ll be on your own, right?”
Turning her gaze from a movement that had caught her eye, she glanced back to Ambrosia. “What, are you and your men too cowardice to accompany me to this man’s villa?”
Ignoring the cowardice remark, he gave a smile as he looked upwards. “Oh, we’ll take you there. Just the thing is…he only allows woman to enter into his palace. The only time he allows others is when he is having a feast before a wedding. It’s the reason why for us it has been such a task getting into his abode. But for you, it shall be easy. You…you are to be his new wife.”
Scoffing, Veleanith crossed her arms tightly across her chest. “I highly doubt that,” she muttered dryly. “And I suppose I shall be going in completely defenseless in nothing but a commoner’s dress, pretending to be one of your men’s desperate daughter’s that just can not wait to marry and become this man’s whore.” She finished bitterly, starting to walk from the tent.
Ambrosia caught her arm, pulling her back with a tired expression. She started to fight him off but he quickly caught both her arms in his. He looked to her seriously. “It is not completely like that. He will not even be alive long enough for you to have to worry about such-”
“How much?” interrupted Veleanith briskly. He stopped talking, giving her a look of confusion as she shook him off. She dusted her arms off, finishing up quickly and raising her eyebrow to Ambrosia. “How much will you be paying me for this commission?”
“You’ll be paid wonderfully, I’m sure you’ll love-”
“How much?” she asked testily.
“Not money.” He said slyly, sliding a hand up her arm.
“Not seexxx…” countered Veleanith with a smile of annoyance, knocking his hand from her arm. She was starting to get sick of that joke of not being paid in money. “How…much?” she asked, a hint of threat to her tone.
Reaching around the table, he dug around a bag, taking out a plain olive green linen dress. He threw it to Vele, that along with a pair of flat shoes. “More than what you are use to. And that is a promise I intend to keep,” He turned his back to her. “Now quickly change, this mission should not take too long.”
Veleanith looked to him suspiciously, making sure he wasn’t looking before she discarded her shorts and matching top in exchange for the plain green dress. However, she kept on her bracelets and pendant…just in case. She coughed to get his attention.
Ambrosia turned around, surprised she had changed so soon. He placed his hands through her hair, running them down quickly to the ivy tying her long mane together. He quickly undid it, her hair flailing about her form quickly once released. He placed a strand of green behind her ear, a dreamy look to his eyes. “Vanima…” he whispered beneath his breath. Holding back a comment, she rolled her eyes to the side, expecting a smart remark afterwards.
To her surprise, he placed both hands to her face gently and in a quick movement, pulled her close, giving her a deep longing filled kiss. She stood in his hold, temporarily stunned before pushing him away, knocking him aside. “What in the hell?!” she exclaimed, holding a hand over her mouth as he turned his gaze to the side.
He didn’t comment, keeping his gaze to the corner, a sparkle in his eye. Finally, he looked back up to her with a weak smile. “Might not ever see you again, just figured I should get that out but I…” he trailed off at seeing her searching the table anxiously. “What are you looking for?”
“A knife.” she replied sharply, searching the table for any metallic pointed object.
Still confused, he leaned his head to the side. “But you are to go in unarmed. You need not a weapon for-”
“It is NOT for that,” Veleanith glared to him, feeling around the table. “I swear if I manage to get my hands on any type of weapon, I am shoving it so far down your throat, I won’t need to shove it far, far up your-”
“Ask?!” A minion of Ambrosia’s poked his head through the door, a nose ring embedded into his nose one of his most distinguishing features. He caught his breath and straightened. “Permission to ask a question, Ambrosia?”
“Granted.” he commented, his gaze never leaving Veleanith.
“We have two of the men ready to take the Mistress to the village of the nobleman. The rest are preparing to head to the fortress farther south of the villa. Shall I give the go ahead for the latter?” he asked in a hiss like voice.
Ambrosia nodded. “Yes…and the Mistress shall be ready momentarily. Just give us a moment.”
The scaly man looked back and forth between the two. He nodded his head in a smarmy gesture, leaving the two to their business. Veleanith didn’t say anything, her eyes cold and golden. Ambrosia placed a hand on her shoulder, tilting her chin up to him. “Trust me, if everything goes according to plan, we’ll never see each other again. Know that’s one of your deepest desires…” He turned away from her, exiting the tent.
At his last words, she felt something act up inside her. As if the scenario was not as it seemed. ‘Something’s not right…’ She thought to herself, her eyes closed in thought. Opening them back up, her eyes were a cool hazel, her arms crossed as she headed out to the men who would be taking her to the village. “Might as well see how it plays out before I pass judgment…”
Stepping into the carriage that would be carrying her, for a second, a movement in the underbrush caught her eye. She turned into the darkness of the forest, catching nothing but a glimpse of a huge shadow blocking off the moon. “Odd…” She shrugged it off, walking into the carriage and letting the two riders take her out into the village of the nobleman.
Ambrosia watched her leave until she was but a mere dot in the distant moonlight. He threw her discarded clothes along with her cloak onto his horse, having one of his comrades lead her horse along for the ride. His gaze turned down to his rose, emerald green, then to hers, crimson red. He placed hers by his, wondering if it was worth it as she faded off into the distance. He sighed heavily. “Namaarie…Melamin,” he whispered in a sad breath. Growing a strong face for his comrades, he shouted something in elvish, leading them off to his stronghold in a stampede of horses.
Vistalzidar and Melcanin walked their horses through the forest, heading south away from Mardonin. They needed no track to follow, their mounts picking their path for them, knowing exactly where to tread.
They rode in silence, letting the peacefulness of the night seep into them and relax them completely. Vistalzidar used this time to study the Huntress in earnest. She reminded him of a certain type of human he had read about in the great libraries of Isgallioth; Amazon's, he recalled.
She was...exquisite, a smile curled his lips. Though, she was elven, and therefor definately not his type. He realised, to his surprise, that even if she was his type, he wouldn't attemp anything. Melcanin seemed to command a certain respect, without even having to utter a word. All this he knew, just from looking at her in the moonlight.
Something niggled at his senses and it took him a moment to register, absorbed as he was in studying the Huntress. By the time he thought to react, dark riders on equally dark stallions had appeared seemingly out of no where to surround them.
"Shadow!" Vistalzidar exclaimed with pure joy in his tone, despite the fact that a dozen or so arrows were trained on him and the Huntress.
One of the figure's, weilding a long bow nocked with similar silver arrows to Vistalzidar's, peered at the from within his hood, his silver eyes and slick black goatee the only features visible.
"Oloth zhah tuth abbil lueth ogglin," said the figure.
"Lloth kyorl dos," replied Vistalzidar, revealing his scripted tunic.
The figure smiled, pulling back his hood to reveal a slender Drow face framed by short, spikey silver hair and lightning shaped side burns.
"Unlce!" The young Drow exclaimed, dismounting from his stallion. "I did not recognise you."
Vistalzidar dismounted also. "You have been honing your skills, I see," Vistalzidar commented dryly as he embraced his nephew. "You are as bad as your father. Your lack of skill in Shadow makes life hard for us all. What if your men had shot me?"
Vistalzidar's nephew hung his head in shame. "Sorry uncle."
Vistalzidar smiled. "I'll stop lecturing you now, for I know it will do no good from first hand experience." Vistalzidar followed his nephew's straying gaze to the Huntress, and then back to find the young Drow standing with his jaw hanging open slightly. His nephew, Vistalzidar knew, had no trouble picturing himself abed with an elf.
Vistalzidar forcefully clamped his nephew's jaw closed with two fingers under the young Drow's chin. "Nephew, this is Melcanin, Huntress of the Hidden Clans of the Northern Forests. Melcanin, meet my nephew, Aelizor Ea'tajillir Xillessidor."
Aelizor bowed, palm to his heart. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance."
Melcanin inclined her head, her eyes shining in the moonlight, she let her steed loose and smiled a little as the mare trotted over to Aelizor's steed who grunted a greeting, "It seems our steeds are becoming quite friendly young Master Xillessidor, and my mare has excuisite taste." Her smile curled a little more at the young drow's expression.
Istalindir woke bathed in sunlight, he choose to sleep up in a tree, the tree was kind enough to make him a bed out of its branches and it opened a path for the sunlight through its branches. He would have woken either way but Istalindir was glad for the warmth, he dropped down to the ground weightless making no noise. A branch lowered his bag and the branches that made his bed unraveled back to their natural form, 'lle nostale uva il-na-demadaya', Istalindir whispered, placing a hand on the trunk of the tree. He dripped a few drops of water from his leather water bag at the base of the tree as a sign of gratitude and gathered his belongings. Mardonin was standing silently in the distance, istalindir turned away from the town and made his way through the silent trees. A soft breeze rustled through the leaves, he looked around but there was nothing to be seen besides the trees swaying in the light breeze and a few birds fluttering above. He would stop as soon as he found water and eat some breakfast. He stopped and listened, nothing was to be heard besides the silent whispers of the trees and faint chanting of the warm wind. A green glow illuminated him as he walked under the semi transparent leaves of the Laurelin tree, the Forest floor was littered with leaves, golden, red, brow and some a dry green. This place almost reminded him of home besides the fact the it clearly wasn't, the lack of elves dancing above the forest floor singing beautiful tunes that filled your heart with an unexplainable warm joy was what made this place more depressing than anywhere els he had been yet. In the cover of darkness the forest had not seemed anything like his hometown which never grew dark, not even at night but now in full daylight Istalindir wished nothing but to get as far away from this place as he could; the memory of the ones he loved was to painful for him to enjoy the beauty of the forest. The silence pierced his bones, he heard his breath slightly over the sound of the leaves being crushed under his light feet, it was all on a thin line between beauty and bone chilling sorrow. Istalindir slowly forgot why he was walking through the forest, all he wanted was to get out of it but the more he wandered the more he began to feel at home and the more he felt like laying down and weeping till he cried the life out of himself. It felt like time had stopped, nothing stirred in the golden green forest, Istalindir fell to his knees and began to cry, he did not know where he was or why he felt this deep sorrow, such a deep sorrow that he felt like his cheast had been emptied, the empty space that his heart once occupied was now only filled with pain, it flowed through his vanes pumping to every corner of his body. Istalindir fell forward on his face and as the surroundings began to fade away the forest changed as well, what once was rich and golden was turning cold and grey, the floor was littered with bones and not leaves, someone was approaching him, someone dressed in dark robes, he was saying something but to whom Istalindir could not tell. A cold finger touched his face and he drifted into the darkness, a place with no worries, was this what it felt like to die, istalindir wondered as his mind began to empty and go blank. It was both wonderful and terrible, but he did not care anymore, nothing mattered, he was exactly where he should be...
OOC: I don't know where that came from, one minute I was writing about waking up and the next i found myself drifting into this dream of a world...but I have it all figured out. I'm too tired at the moment to continue but tomorow I'll have another go at it.
Veleanith stepped into the long corridor, making no sound as she walked across the beige and green marble floor, an elderly gentleman to her side. She studied the area, the glittering green vases on clay podiums, paintings in delicate earthen colors across the walls, a golden carpet leading to a huge set of jet black marble doors, leading into the lord’s consulting chamber/celebration chamber.
“My, my, this would make any thief fall to their knees in awe…so much to take, so little time…” she muttered quietly.
“Eh, what did you say?” A stout elderly elf leading her to the room looked to her curiously.
Shaking her head, she gave a weak smile as she pulled her hair from her face. “Nothing…‘father’,” The last word she said with difficulty, she never even knew her own father so calling a complete stranger by such a title felt odd. She pulled at the front of the plain green linen dress, feeling as if it were suffocating her rather than giving comfort. “So do you know much of this man I am to,” She struggled not to laugh at the last word. “Marry? Is he respectable and polite or corrupt and ruthless?”
Pushing open the doors into the nobleman’s chambers, he shrugged. “Would it matter even if he were the most respectable and respected man in all the land?”
Under her breath, she mumbled. “No, a hit is a hit,” Veleanith looked to the elf with a skeptical expression. “Though I have my guesses on how he might act according to…” she trailed off, a whimpering accompanied by blows interrupting her. She turned her head to the center of the room to see a middle aged elf dressed in overly rich attire beating on a fragile figure in the room, her hair draped over her face covering her pained expression.
Veleanith’s face turned blank at the sight, a distant look to her eyes as she murmured. “And here we have an elf gone astray, corrupted by the ways of greed and wealth, his current glory…his inevitable downfall.”
Placing a hand over his face, the elderly elf she came with groaned, shaking his head. “Perhaps we should have knocked? Let us come back another time, hmm?” He raised his head from his hand, waiting for Vele’s comment, but to his surprise found she had started to make her way to the center of the room. He rubbed at his temples, closing his eyes. ‘This might not turn out well.’
Veleanith walked up to the man oblivious to the two’s arrival, and without a second word, pushed him back from the woman. She glared to him, her eyes a luminous golden. “Stop this foolishness of yours! Beating on someone…one who does not even fight back? How much of a man does that make you?” Taking her gaze away from the stunned elven man, she kneeled down to help the woman up.
Wiping away tears, the woman pulled herself away from Vele. Stumbling onto her feet, she covered her face, running from the room in what seemed to be shame. Watching her go, Veleanith made a face. “You are quite welcome, Miss-” Her quiet sarcasm was cut off by a sharp blow to her jaw. She stumbled back, sliding down onto a sitting position to see her assailant, a Drow like fellow, his fist still in the air.
Forcing back a devilish grin, she got onto her feet and started to head to him, her hands out to pummel him. However, she found that from behind her came two more guards, slipping out of the shadows and coming from seemingly nowhere to restrain her. The Drow who had attacked her turned back to the elven gentleman with a face full of apathy. “Would you like us to detain the little wench?”
A bitter smile crossed her lips, an evil glint to her eyes. “Little wench? I’ll show you ‘little wench’.” She started to increase pulling away from the bear-like beings holding her, figuring she had already messed up as it is. Plenty of plants adorned the several windows lighting the area, she already had it figured out how she could get rid of his little lackeys, ensnare the poor excuse for a man within seconds.
A chortle disturbed her thoughts of murder, interrupting her strategy. She made a curious face and stopped struggling to see it was the elf nobleman she had pushed who had started to laugh. He walked up to her, holding onto her face in a stubby ring covered hand. “Such a feisty one she is! Such nerve on this one! They do not come along like this every single day, I must keep this one! If you are like this in public, one can only imagine how you must be the eve of our wedding,” Still holding onto her face, he turned to her ‘father’ with a dangerous look, missing the look of Veleanith rolling her eyes. “She has been brought to me so I could marry her, correct?”
The stout elderly elf nodded vigorously, his chin wobbling from the movement. He bowed down, backing out of the room. “Excuse her earlier behavior as Leanith is usually more…subtle.”
The elven man waved him off, his focus back to Vele. “Oh, I should hope not. It is the main reason why I like her,” he called one of his guards over in a hand movement, quickly whispering into his ear. He nodded, making his way from the room. He moved his face closer to hers, beaming. “We have much to do in so short an amount of time,” He snapped a finger and from behind him came several woman off each race and variety, some more beautiful than the last, others more humble than expected. Letting go of her face, he motioned to the women in back of him. “These are my wives…they shall be preparing you for the wedding.”
Veleanith felt a wave of confusion go over her then a sinking suspicion start to build up inside her. “Oh really? And when exactly is this wedding of ours?”
Patting her face affectionately, the guards still restraining her, he smiled. “In the morrow, my lovely Leanith. I can not wait for the eve of it as your quick temper is exciting. I’ve already sent out one of my rider’s with invitations for tonight’s festivities. Anyone and everyone is invited, it will truly be grand!”
Her suspicions confirmed, she nodded her head as she closed her eyes in thought. She was hoping she would’ve had longer before the wedding. She would’ve liked the time to get to know her surroundings and the people in it. But now with the sudden rush to, ‘Get me from my dress…’ She thought in heavy annoyance, ‘Time is of the essence and everything must be played out to my-’
At feeling her hands released from behind her back, she stopped mid-thought, a look of curiosity across her face. It soon turned to one of being irritated as the man clapped and two of his woman, both seven feet, came to Vele’s side and held onto her wrists into a steel grip. “These two shall lead you to the purification room,” he turned his attention to his waiting wives. “You four shall prepare her, you six, clean up the main room and you three, prepare her outfit. The rest of you, get to preparing tonight’s feast,” He clapped heavily with a bitter wide eyed expression. “What did I say?! Get to it NOW!”
The women quickly scattered from his sight, the two thick women by Veleanith’s side starting to drag her from the scene. As they did so, she felt her jaw starting to smart from the blow delivered to her by the Drow. She glared to him viciously, turning quickly as he watched her leave. “You shall be the first…”
“What did you say?” The thick, scantily clad lady to her side asked, speaking in a surprising feathery tone, looking to her gently.
“Nothing.” she replied innocently as they turned a corner to a white door. The other woman pulled open the door to reveal a room made up of a huge milky white pool, white mist swimming across the surface. Outside the pool were glittering brown walls along with a rocky dew soaked pathway, light cast into the room from a candelabrum hanging in the centre, seven lit lamps by each side of the water. The room had a scent of herbs to it and once inside, a strange calm overtook Veleanith.
“It’s lovely…” Closing her eyes, she felt her thoughts swirl as her anxieties started to melt away, her mind only filled with her dreams. She started to slip out her dress, but stopped at a glance to the two women. They crossed their arms by the entrance, saying nothing, whereas she sighed. ‘Guess asking for privacy is out of the question.’
Taking off her dress, she quickly submerged herself into the water to veil herself and the scars across her back. To her surprise, she found the water to be hot and extremely comforting. She dove underwater, allowing the water to go through her hair, popping up in the center of the pool and floating on her back, feeling as if she were in a dream...
However, she quickly went back into the water at remembering she wasn’t alone. After a moment’s hesitation, she swum back to the women and placed her hand out over onto the rocky ledge to keep herself afloat. “Excuse me, but would any of you mind telling me why exactly am I doing this?”
The lady’s glanced to each other, finally one of the bulkier one’s responding. “It is a process he goes through the night before the wedding to prepare his virgins-”
Veleanith snorted loudly into the water, cutting off the woman. She ducked her head underwater in an attempt to get rid of the huge smile across her face, eventually giving in and bursting through the surface of the water chuckling, thoroughly amused. Stifling her laughs at the lady’s angered expression, she placed her fist to her chin, feigning seriousness. “My deepest apologies, I meant no offense,” She placed her back to the ledge, flipping her hair onto the rocks as she placed her hands on the ledge, relaxing. “I was just surprised by your response, is all.”
To her surprise, the woman came to her side and pinned her arms into the ledge. She winced, looking between the two nervously. If it came down to it, a brief whisper would be all she needed for her bracelets to come to life. “I apologized for the laugh, was it such a serious off-”
“It’s not about that,” cut off the brute like one. From behind her entered four more ladies, each looking fragile and tired. The second woman, the airy voiced one spoke gently. “They are to prepare you for the ceremony but most women at this time try and run away so we are saving ourselves the trouble.”
Veleanith tapped her fingers along the rock, unable to budge her upper arms. “I see,” she grimaced, sighing as the women started to place a series of twists to the front of hair, leaving the back flowing long and raven, green strands hanging to the front of her face. Meanwhile, at her face, they were worked deviously, not having to do too much. Once done, they held up a mirror to her. She found she was surprised at the face looking back to her but at the same time, try as she might, a dry comment slipped out. “Lovely. I look like a decorated whore.”
The women who had done her face glanced between each other, deciding on saying nothing as they left the room. The two other women left started to finish up on her hair when unbeknownst to Veleanith, a hooded lady tapped the two workers on their shoulders, deciding to take care of the rest.
Her thoughts deeply on her dreams, the smallest hint of a smile across her lips, she closed her eyes as she leaned back into the lady doing her hair. The woman said nothing, once done speaking in a quietly confused angry tone. “What do you want from me?!”
Opening up her eye in surprise to the outburst, she started to turn round, but before she could act, felt herself forced below the surface of the water. She opened up her eyes completely, in more of a shock than fear. Letting out a burst of air, her instinct took over as she reached up into the water and in a quick movement, pulled her assailant from their hair into the pool, at the same time, popping up through the surface.
Taking a loud gasp of air, she coughed slightly, glad that she didn’t need to brush her hair from her face. She wiped her eyes, climbing from the water just when the assailant came through the surface of the water, deep brown eyes with soaked hair to match. Her assailant, the woman that she had stopped from being beaten earlier, looked to her with a look of confusion as she repeated herself. “What do you want from me? Why would you stop my liege from punishing me?”
‘She’s quite the sane one,’ she thought sarcastically with a sense of pity. Picking up her dress to cover up her naked form, she looked to her coldly. “I neither want nor require anything from you. I stopped ‘your liege’ because I was foolishly brought up to believe that the completely defenseless should not be cruelly beaten.”
Wrapping the dress around her and leaving the woman to her thoughts, she left the room and started to walk down the hall. She peered over a corner cautiously, a twitch to her brow at feeling a wet hand rest lightly on her shoulder. The woman let out a quivering sigh, her head bowed. “Acts such as yours confuse me. There is no reason to help one if you do not know them at all.”
Veleanith made sure the area was secure, only then choosing to walk down the hall, leaving a fading trail of wet footsteps. “That may be so. But I believe my rare moments of kindness help to balance out other things I have done,” She stopped walking, scoffing at her words. “Well, not really. I do not really know why I do the things I do…it is a grand mystery in itself.”
The woman who had been walking briskly to keep up took out a thin robe from behind her back, draping it over Vele’s shoulders. Veleanith looked to her confused but the lady just gave a small confused smile, leading her in the opposite direction. “You are the strangest one yet…and wandering around after everything has been done in a place you do not know nearly in the nude,” She pulled open a huge golden door, her grip shaky, her smile no longer in place. “Strangest one yet…”
The room before her was huge in size, the main emphasis on the silver silk sheets covering a huge circular bed, a red canopy falling lightly from it. Candles lit up the wall as far as the eye could see, a roaring torch against the doorway. On the bed was what looked to be a deep, navel showing, black sleeveless V shaped top, barely able to cover up Veleanith and revealing possibly everything. Below it was a silky black skirt, the sides missing and replaced with a strip of leather. On the lush white carpet were golden shoes and across the bed was an array of jewelry. Turning to the woman, she raised an eyebrow. “So…where is my outfit?”
Again, a confused look. “It is on the…” she trailed off, examining Veleanith’s look then giving a small laugh. “Oh, you are joking. Well, it is either this or you can continue to walk in the nude. I find my liege rather likes that.”
“The strips of clothe it is,” declared Veleanith at her other option. She quickly changed in the outfit, holding back a groan of frustration at how out of character she looked adorned in jewels and such. Just then, the hustle and noise of several people entering the household filled the air, excited laughter filled chatter. She secured the skirt around her waist. “So basically I am to sit and look pretty for the next few hours during the festivities, occasionally partaking in a dance if ordered to do so?” she asked in a heavy tone.
The woman folded up her dress, placing it by the side of the bed. “Well, that is the general idea. You and my liege take the first dance, then from there the entertainment, feast, music, and all the such!” she said, her tone finishing in excitement.
“Lovely,” said Veleanith, unable to hide her sarcasm. She looked to the close doorway with a devious glint to her eyes. ‘And once the festivities are over…that’s when the real game begins…’
Vistalzidar cuffed his nephew on the back of the head. "That'll be enough gawking for one day," he whispered into the young Drow's ear, though he knew the Huntress' keen hearing would pick the words up with ease.
Aelizor rubbed vigorously at the back of his head, feigning a pained expression. "Sorry, brute of an uncle."
"Don't you know it!" Vistalzidar chuckled, then instantly turned serious. "Why are you way out here with these men? Your father should know better."
At that, the young Drow hung his head. "Father is dead," he whispered sadly and Vistalzidar froze in the action of removing a boot to clear out a stone. The forgot the boot instantly and stood upright, staring down at his nephew, who gazed up into his serious eyes.
"How?" was all Vistalzidar could manage.
Aelizor faught back the tears that rose as he replied shakily, "Those horrible monsters, uncle. Those who destroyed Isgallioth."
"Death Eaters!" Vistalzidar hissed, turning away from his nephew in angry frustration. He threw his head back and glanced at the sky through the forest canopy, his muscles and fists clentch. "Why! Damn you to Har'oloth! Oloth plynn dos! Arrrrgh!"
He clutched at his head and slowly dropped to his knees, weeping for the brother he had lost. Behind him, Aelizor did the same and together, they greived for yet another victim of the Calur d' Elghinn; the Gurtha Maten; the Death Eaters
A warm rolling flame circled the area, casting an orange glow on the spectators in the crowd, causing open mouthed smiles of awe and pointing. It had been seen before, several times as a matter of fact, but it still didn’t change the fact that it was amusing. After all, it was an eve of partying before the wedding, the guests had to be pleased or feign interest.
Veleanith found herself doing the latter, sitting down in a plush satin chair, her elbow propped onto the hand rest, her fist into her cheek. Her eyelids fluttered, she trying to keep herself awake as she had seen fire type tricks done far better. Of course, those were all against her and her brother, victims trying in vain to save themselves. A smile crossed her face at the thought, a fang revealing one at thinking of slaying her soon-to-be husband.
“Leanith, do you find this to be of amusement?” The woman from earlier walked up to her, offering a small platter of food. She waved it off, having no appetite for food at the moment. The woman shrugged, standing by her. “I have not seen you smile much with the exception of just now. Are you enjoying the show?” she asked humbly.
Erasing her thoughts away, she nodded, smiling in the woman’s direction. “Yes. It is quite a medley of entertainment,” She brushed her hand past her face, subtly trying to wipe the sleepiness threatening to overwhelm her from her eyes. She pulled her arms into the air, noticing the change in the atmosphere. Affinities were no longer flying across the room, instead, a flute melody playing, light drumming in the background. “Ah, so this would be the dancing portion?”
“Yes,” the woman scanned the room, a distant look in her eyes. “But it seems you have been spared the chance to dance with my liege. He appears to be…entertained for the moment.” She motioned her head in his direction, pointing him out in the crown dancing with a red haired, fair complexioned woman.
“Pity.” Veleanith rolled her eyes, slipping from the chair. She figured now, while he, along with everyone else was distracted, she should try and get in a little recon work before she made the first move. Starting to make her way out into the corridor undetected, she halted abruptly at feeling a hand around her wrist.
The woman stopped her, a fearful look on her face. “You can not leave the party mid celebration. You must stay to the end. My liege would be quite displeased,” Veleanith held back a comment, pulling her wrist from the woman as she continued on through the hall. The woman tried again. “Please, mistress Leanith, my liege-”
“Hey,” cut off Veleanith, a strange note to her voice as she stopped in the hall, fists clenched. Gritting her teeth, she turned to the woman, an inquisitive, superior look on her face. “Why do you call that poor excuse for a being your liege? Are you in debt to him or are you in love with him? That is all I have been hearing and I feel I shall hang myself if I hear those words leave your mouth once again.” She turned to walk away again.
“He is my husband and therefore my liege. I am to be devoted to him as he is to I.” responded the woman coolly.
“Oh really?” Veleanith turned around with an expression of the idea being ludicrous. “I see how he shows his devotion, going up to any woman he pleases and completely disregarding any or all of his wives. I would understand if he treated you all with kindness, but from the little I have seen he is nothing more than a bully, ordering you all as if you were servants, exploiting your good points, taking advantages of your weak minds-”
“I am NOT weak minded, I…I love him!” she shouted, her voice shaky.
Raising her eyebrow, she crossed her arms with, doubt in her eyes. “No, you are foolish. Has he ever shown you love back, interest in other than your body? Do you remember the last time he even showed you affection, that he cared?!” At this point, she was up to the woman who looked to be near tears.
Clapping her hands loudly in front of her face, Veleanith’s look became harsh. “Wake up! If you can not even answer these questions, then you have just proven my point. He does not deserve to be called decent, nonetheless your liege. You should not have to take that kind of emotional punishment from one person, you should not have even taken it from me! But like I said…weak.”
A now cold look to her golden eyes, she walked away from the woman whose shoulders had started to shake. Veleanith rubbed the bridge of her nose, slightly frustrated as she turned the next corner. She normally didn’t get that worked up, that mean, but she couldn’t stand it. The woman’s devotion to that man…it stirred up memories, little trinkets of her past similar to the situation.
Placing her fist in her palm, she raised her head with a glint to her eyes. “Enough. What’s said is said and what’s done is done,” She peeked around a corner before making her way down the hall, dimly lit, absent from guards or stragglers of the party. She eventually reached a purple curtain draping down over a doorway.
Pulling it open, she placed her index finger to her bottom lip at seeing what looked to be a storage room. “Well, hello there.” Walking into the room, she looked about the shelves quickly, counting in her head the time until the song would most likely be over. She felt a grin start to appear as she saw a useful item on a shelf. She picked it up and placed it out of sight, starting to make her way from the room.
Her smile soon faded at seeing the door. Blocking off the exit was the Drow from earlier, an apathetic expression and a chilling look visible in his eyes. “What are you doing here?” he asked, starting to walk up to her.
“Oh, I was just looking for a place to relieve…myself,” Veleanith finished her excuse weakly, the Drow looking down to her face, a dead look behind his eyes. She shivered slightly, trying to step aside. “Well, I guess I wandered into the wrong place but I am confident I can find my way ba-eep!”
Before she could finish her sentence, he had picked her up from behind and brought her over his shoulder. Without a second word, he started to head down the hall, bringing her back to the room with the silver sheets and countless candles. He swung open the door forcefully, knocking it hard into the wall and heaved Veleanith onto the bed in the room.
Veleanith slid up to the headboard, quickly regaining her bearings to see the Drow starting to shut her in. She dashed off the bed to the door, stopping it from fully closing with her foot. Pushing it open, more annoyed than irate, she delivered a punch to the Drow’s face but to her horror, his head flew off, bouncing against the wall and falling to the floor with a sick thud, accompanied by his lifeless body.
Holding back a shout, she placed her hands over her mouth. Death normally didn’t bother her considering she was most likely the one dealing it but it surprised her so that her small punch could behead him. “No…no…this does not make any sense,” She kicked lightly at the body. Kneeling down in scrutiny to the blow, she touched the neck area with an odd suspicion.
“Wait a…” She traced a complete circle around the bleeding region, letting out a relieved breath. “It was a clean cut…if I had killed him, he would have…well, it’s not even possible but this, it was a sword, definitely,” Her eyes never leaving the body, she reached for the head. “But that means he had been wandering around dead for only who knows how long. Like the lizard man.” She placed the head by the neck, the eyes looking up to her glazed and lifeless. “So the only logical conclusion I can draw is there’s a powerful shadow affinitive nearby, someone who had been pulling the strings behind this Drow, the commander of the group he had brought.”
Taking her jade pendant from her neck, she placed it into the middle of the Drow’s chest, muttering rapidly in a foreign tongue a string of words. The area around her grew light, a breeze coming from nowhere tossing Veleanith’s wildly about as she closed her eyes in concentration, darkness emanating from the corpse. Her eyes burst open at this point, an ethereal golden and at last, the corpse jerked on the ground. It stopped as soon as it started, falling down flat and the skull and body disintegrated into dust, leaving behind merely bones, a uniform, and a five pronged star necklace.
Picking it up in a hand, she looked at the necklace beneath the light, not sure of what it meant. She wrapped it around her wrist, getting up from the remnants of the Drow and walked down the corridor, in wonder as to what was going on. “And the plot thickens…”
((^^ Yeah, okay, so way back in old time speech, they probably would not say something along those lines i.e. ‘And the plot thickens…’ but I like that line. Sue me…well, anyways, TBC…))
“It has taken you awhile. I’m hoping the wait was worth it.” The elven nobleman rubbed his hands together, a greedy smile across his face.
“I apologize for the wait,” Veleanith said calmly on her knees, her face down to the floor hiding her expression of disgust. In front of her, buy her hands was a small black cauldron, bubbling vibrant red soup inside. It was after the festivities when she found out she had to prepare a dish for her husband to be. Completely caught off-guard, she quickly threw together anything she could find, making the stew before her. While it smelled good enough, she wasn’t willing to actually taste it.
Raising her head from the ground, she struggled to maintain an expression of seriousness as she ladled a huge spoonful into a shiny cerulean bowl. She got up from the ground to hand it to him, along with a spoon before quickly making her way back to the cauldron, bowing her head again.
He started to take a sip but stopped with a jovial smile. “Would you like to sample the stew you have worked so hard on making me? From the pot will be fine.”
Holding back a laugh, she dipped a finger into the stew, stirring it slowly. It wasn’t a question he had asked her, more like a command. ‘Suspicious bastard,’ She took a finger out, quickly placing it into her mouth, sucking at her fingertips delicately. She wiped off any excess liquid off to the side of the pot, looking up to the nobleman with an empty smile. “I could have added perhaps a bit more herbs but I assure you it’s one stew you’ll never forget.”
Sipping loudly, he smiled. “I must agree with you on that!” He started to gulp down the stew greedily, Veleanith watching him without comment. After his first serving, he requested two more, finishing each slower than the first. He leaned back, the empty red stained bowl resting on his developing pot belly as he let out a loud belch. A curious knowing look entered his eyes as he took out one last ladle of soup. “And here I thought you would have attempted to kill me long time ago, assassin.”
For a moment, Veleanith felt her heart skip a beat. She was hoping she had heard wrong but she never did. Somehow, he knew of her. Whether it was warning or her feistiness had given her away, her role had been revealed. She calmed down, showing no hint of worry as she looked to the man, giving a fang revealing smile. “There is no need for that, for you are already dead to me.”
The man took a long sip, his actions growing syrupy, sloppy. “Really? And why is this?”
Veleanith very calmly took from an inner portion of her skirt a small vial, its contents empty. She held it off over the half full cauldron, watching as the man’s expression paled. “One should not keep something of such potency in a storage room, veiled by a curtain no less,” She stood up, watching as the man started to clutch onto his heart. “One drop would have done you in, but I would not have liked to risk you receiving a cure so just for you,” she imitated herself pouring in the clear poison. “I emptied the whole vial. Oh, but what about my taste test?!” she gasped falsely.
Chuckling lightly, she dropped the vial down into the pot, but the shattering of glass was heard. Pushing aside the pot with her foot, she showed that she had dropped the glass behind the pot. Pointing to her head, she raised an eyebrow. “People see what they want to see. You saw me place a finger in and once done, put it in my mouth. I saw me place my middle finger into the pot then place my index finger to my lips,” Her smile grew wide, her eyes lit up. “That has never backfired for me, do love that little trick. Well, I shall give you a few more seconds before the darkness claims you.”
To her surprise, the man, sliding lower into his chair, started to laugh, blood spilling down his chin in rapid succession. As his cackles grew louder, Veleanith backed away cautiously, noting the darkening of the surrounding lights, the comfort in the air slowly being squeezed away by the oncoming darkness. He laughed, then bellowed, his voice echoing in the slowly dimming room. “There are far worse things than shadows in the dark…” he laughed louder, stopping with a gag. The sound of him slipping from his chair was heard then silence in the approaching darkness.
Veleanith closed her eyes, the room flooded in black. Her sight was of no use to her, she couldn’t see her hand in front of her face, let alone anyone that might be approaching her. She listened in concentration to the increasing pitter patter, footsteps approaching the throne room like doors. Arrows being readied, swords removed from their sheaths, whispers of powers being prepared, countless coming to slaughter her.
A sense of excitement started to build up in her, along with anger that she had been set up. By who, she still wasn’t too sure; she didn’t plan on accusing until she had all the evidence she needed. Until then, she closed her eyes, raising her hands to the plants sitting in darkness on the cold sill. She didn’t have a game plan for the moment, the only thing she knew was if she managed to live through the scenario, it would be a miracle in itself…
((OOC: Damn…I wanted to do more than this but I have to get ready for my trip….er…five hours from now! That means I needs to sleep. Oh wells, though I do hate cuttin things short))