Setting
A wide expanse of beach east of Metropolis City.
Minimap
northwest |
north |
northeast |
west |
You are here. |
east |
southwest |
south |
southeast |
Merrishore Beach is a part of 
Midton.
6 Characters Here
Dejah Thoris [43] A wandering nomadic woman who lives in the woods.
Molko [43] One of the two remaining members of the Firestorm Clan. A stout Dwarf, modest height of four-foot-six. He is still young, being only forty-seven, with bright blue eyes and a bushy black beard.
Selwen [43] A Paladin of the Twilight Guard; and an Adept wielder of the Starlight.
Pathos Methedon [40] A broken elf, he wanders through the worlds for a calling or a purpose.
Shayla Knosis [40] 'Please.. It is our right to extort everyone by any means.'
Desmond Bornholdt [10] A daemon from Arcanum, an avatar of Naar; the Old God of Death and Decay.
Start Character Here »
- 61 posts here • Page 1 of 3 • 1, 2, 3
Blinded! The damned woman had blinded him!
Pathos threw up an arm to shield his face from the brightness. Shayla had not, in fact, blinded him. It was merely the drastic change from an underground temple to the sunny Merrishore Beach. After a minute or two of his grumbling, Pathos finally took down his arm.
The elf's eyes squinted against the bright rays of the sun. The sound of the waves lapping at the shore was like listening to Terra breathe. A tension in Pathos's shoulder relaxed. The light glinted off his never-dry flask. He gulped a few swallows down and gasped at the familiar burn.
The drunken elf tucked his liquor away and held a hand over his eyes as he peered down the beach-line. The water was crystalline blue and he could see the coral in the water. Excellent. There was always fish around coral.
"Now I need t'get me hands onna pole," Pathos mumbled beneath his breath. He almost looked at Shayla expectantly.
A breeze blew in from the ocean.
A single white feather floated freely toward Shayla and Pathos.
Pathos threw up an arm to shield his face from the brightness. Shayla had not, in fact, blinded him. It was merely the drastic change from an underground temple to the sunny Merrishore Beach. After a minute or two of his grumbling, Pathos finally took down his arm.
The elf's eyes squinted against the bright rays of the sun. The sound of the waves lapping at the shore was like listening to Terra breathe. A tension in Pathos's shoulder relaxed. The light glinted off his never-dry flask. He gulped a few swallows down and gasped at the familiar burn.
The drunken elf tucked his liquor away and held a hand over his eyes as he peered down the beach-line. The water was crystalline blue and he could see the coral in the water. Excellent. There was always fish around coral.
"Now I need t'get me hands onna pole," Pathos mumbled beneath his breath. He almost looked at Shayla expectantly.
A breeze blew in from the ocean.
A single white feather floated freely toward Shayla and Pathos.
Shayla blinked as the sudden change of climate and brightness hit her. Her white hair almost was enough to blind herself. But this was by far better than the last place. Especially with that insufferable woman now gone. And now she was alone to use the man any way she wanted. As long as he thought it was his idea first, it shouldn't be a problem. The most important matter for now was to get him to trust her, even just an inch was enough to sink her nails into.
"Told you I could do it." She commented to the man. "This was -easy- magic in compassion to the other things I can do.." The mist returned and turned her heavy clothing into what looked to be an Amazonian bikini, which suited her tribal look fairly well. Once she nodded in approval and heard his statement she smiled slightly to herself. She was slowly catching him. "Well, you could always ask, ya'know. That is my one condition. Once you do, I shall bid your request." She said softly. "But please mind, I'm not a genie in a bottle. I may not be limited in wishes, but I don't do take-backs either."
However, a simple white feather floating in the wind caught her attention. Strange, as nothing as simple ever caught her eye. Reaching out with her power, she attempted to catch it and bring it towards herself, the foreign look of curiosity upon her face. "Interesting.." She whispered quietly under her breath as she reached for it.
"Told you I could do it." She commented to the man. "This was -easy- magic in compassion to the other things I can do.." The mist returned and turned her heavy clothing into what looked to be an Amazonian bikini, which suited her tribal look fairly well. Once she nodded in approval and heard his statement she smiled slightly to herself. She was slowly catching him. "Well, you could always ask, ya'know. That is my one condition. Once you do, I shall bid your request." She said softly. "But please mind, I'm not a genie in a bottle. I may not be limited in wishes, but I don't do take-backs either."
However, a simple white feather floating in the wind caught her attention. Strange, as nothing as simple ever caught her eye. Reaching out with her power, she attempted to catch it and bring it towards herself, the foreign look of curiosity upon her face. "Interesting.." She whispered quietly under her breath as she reached for it.
Pathos looked at the floating feather but paid it no more mind than that. He was looking at Shayla suspiciously with her ... scandalous attire.
"Preferred ye with yer clothes on," he grunted. He looked away and started to head down closer to the water.
Shayla was able to pluck the feather from the air. A sense of importance; of something lost was attached to the feather. If she concentrated enough on the feather, Shayla would be able to see flashes of Dhaelhel's fall to Terra: the meteor rocketing across the sky, a crater in the earth, and finally a winged-woman laying in the debris.
Pathos returned with a springy limb of driftwood and waved it in front of Shayla's face.
"Make it into a pole, woman," he demanded.
"Preferred ye with yer clothes on," he grunted. He looked away and started to head down closer to the water.
Shayla was able to pluck the feather from the air. A sense of importance; of something lost was attached to the feather. If she concentrated enough on the feather, Shayla would be able to see flashes of Dhaelhel's fall to Terra: the meteor rocketing across the sky, a crater in the earth, and finally a winged-woman laying in the debris.
Pathos returned with a springy limb of driftwood and waved it in front of Shayla's face.
"Make it into a pole, woman," he demanded.
She held the feather close to her face, holding it above as if looking through glass. "Yes, you would." She commented. "But in this heat, my would very much rather this. Besides, I don't want those clothes wet." She added, looking at Pathos with a flirtatious grin.
She then turned her attention back to the feather. It was a curious little thing, with all the importance that this simple white feather seemed to carry. She focused, and she was able to she parts of a goddess's fall to Terra. A goddess from the light side, it seemed. This made Shayla grin cruelly. So the light was falling. She briefly wondered what dark lord was trying to destroy the world this time. She would need to find a way to be a member of that dark lord's regime.
Her concentration was broken by the limb that was being wafted mere inches in front of her nose. "Hit me with that, and I'll turn you into a pole." She threatened. Grabbing at the driftwood, she would use her magic to make it into a fishing rod. "Have fun."
She then snapped her fingers, her hair braiding around the end of the feather. She would keep this close to her for now. It seemed to be a prize worth keeping.
She then turned her attention back to the feather. It was a curious little thing, with all the importance that this simple white feather seemed to carry. She focused, and she was able to she parts of a goddess's fall to Terra. A goddess from the light side, it seemed. This made Shayla grin cruelly. So the light was falling. She briefly wondered what dark lord was trying to destroy the world this time. She would need to find a way to be a member of that dark lord's regime.
Her concentration was broken by the limb that was being wafted mere inches in front of her nose. "Hit me with that, and I'll turn you into a pole." She threatened. Grabbing at the driftwood, she would use her magic to make it into a fishing rod. "Have fun."
She then snapped her fingers, her hair braiding around the end of the feather. She would keep this close to her for now. It seemed to be a prize worth keeping.
Pathos scratched the scars of his face before taking the fishing pole. He almost ripped it out of the woman's hands but old manners died hard, it seemed. He grunted his thanks before taking off to a jutting stretch of sand. It was the perfect fishing spot for Pathos.
A chill wind passed over Shayla.
"So, you are the one that has claimed Dhaelhel's feather," a voice said near Shayla. It was a daemon with curling horns and rich red robes draped over his thin body. An ornate strip of cloth covered his eyes. He appeared to be blind but with the fluidity that Desmond walked toward Shayla argued against that assumption.
"That feather," Desmond said as he raised a finger and pointed directly at it. "It is very special; something to be safeguarded at all costs." A twisted smile curled at the corner of his generous mouth. The daemon's aura was, breathtaking. It was massive and darker than black. Power wafted off of Desmond as powerfully as the water beat against the shore. He was just as powerful as the forces of nature.
"I ask you," Desmond said in his velveteen voice. "Are you able to keep such a precious thing safe?"
A chill wind passed over Shayla.
"So, you are the one that has claimed Dhaelhel's feather," a voice said near Shayla. It was a daemon with curling horns and rich red robes draped over his thin body. An ornate strip of cloth covered his eyes. He appeared to be blind but with the fluidity that Desmond walked toward Shayla argued against that assumption.
"That feather," Desmond said as he raised a finger and pointed directly at it. "It is very special; something to be safeguarded at all costs." A twisted smile curled at the corner of his generous mouth. The daemon's aura was, breathtaking. It was massive and darker than black. Power wafted off of Desmond as powerfully as the water beat against the shore. He was just as powerful as the forces of nature.
"I ask you," Desmond said in his velveteen voice. "Are you able to keep such a precious thing safe?"
She smirked, folding her arms over her bosom. She would break through his shell eventually. Eventually was the key word.
Chill bumps covered her skin as the wind passed over her, and her clothes suddenly changed to seemed to be a tribal traveling gear. Turning swiftly, Shayla suddenly looked fierce, her own power ebbing as she called upon it. If filled her, consumed her with what seemed to be life itself, with the want to draw more within herself. However, experience kept her from doing so.
Relaxing her look back to her sensual self, she placed a hand upon her own cheek. "I would suppose I would be." She said, her voice soft and becoming. A smirk of a smile pressed itself upon her soft lips. His own power was.. Amazing. Darkness flowed around him like none she had ever seen back when her power was at its fullest. Back then, she had been considered blacker than black. The shadow of the world itself. It would seem this world had changed.
And she liked it.
"Special you say?" She said, laughing seductively. "Well then that means its priceless to me then.." She walked towards him slowly. "I can keep it safe from anyone who should try to take it away from me..." She said, walking closer, attempting to end up beside the daemon. "Are you going to try to take it from me?" She asked with a curious but flirtatious tone.
Chill bumps covered her skin as the wind passed over her, and her clothes suddenly changed to seemed to be a tribal traveling gear. Turning swiftly, Shayla suddenly looked fierce, her own power ebbing as she called upon it. If filled her, consumed her with what seemed to be life itself, with the want to draw more within herself. However, experience kept her from doing so.
Relaxing her look back to her sensual self, she placed a hand upon her own cheek. "I would suppose I would be." She said, her voice soft and becoming. A smirk of a smile pressed itself upon her soft lips. His own power was.. Amazing. Darkness flowed around him like none she had ever seen back when her power was at its fullest. Back then, she had been considered blacker than black. The shadow of the world itself. It would seem this world had changed.
And she liked it.
"Special you say?" She said, laughing seductively. "Well then that means its priceless to me then.." She walked towards him slowly. "I can keep it safe from anyone who should try to take it away from me..." She said, walking closer, attempting to end up beside the daemon. "Are you going to try to take it from me?" She asked with a curious but flirtatious tone.
"I have no intention of taking it away from you," Desmond stated in an amused tone of voice. He knew that she was coming closer to him but the daemon did not move. He stayed standing exactly where he was as Shayla closed in on him.
"I have a sense that you are useful to our cause," Desmond said to her. "Tell me, are you willing to see this world's destruction? Are you one of the people that would allow Terra to come to its justice? It's death?" Desmond awaited Shayla's answer patiently.
Meanwhile, Pathos was enjoying himself. There was plenty of sun, warmth, and fish were striking at his pole. He hadn't yet caught anything. The drunken elf was far too busy staring out over the ocean.
"I have a sense that you are useful to our cause," Desmond said to her. "Tell me, are you willing to see this world's destruction? Are you one of the people that would allow Terra to come to its justice? It's death?" Desmond awaited Shayla's answer patiently.
Meanwhile, Pathos was enjoying himself. There was plenty of sun, warmth, and fish were striking at his pole. He hadn't yet caught anything. The drunken elf was far too busy staring out over the ocean.
A cruel smile spread across her face. "I was imprisoned unjustly for thousands of years just because my magic was black." Unjustly, but her definition of course. "Was that fair? Trapped in a dreamless sleep, where I was aware the world was changing and that the seal that was holding me was fading. Pint up rage and hatred is something you really should not keep bottled up. I plan to let some run wild with my revenge upon this world, and maybe the next.." She whispered.
Her smile turned sweet towards him and she leaned closer, if allowed, to where her lips were a mere inch to his ear.
"To see this world burn, the people of the world turn upon each other and destroy themselves.. That is my one true desire.." She said, lust filling her words with her true emotion. "Do we both long for the same things...?" She asked in a velvet tone, her eyes shifting to Pathos just for the briefest of seconds. She needed to make sure her tool remained close.
Her smile turned sweet towards him and she leaned closer, if allowed, to where her lips were a mere inch to his ear.
"To see this world burn, the people of the world turn upon each other and destroy themselves.. That is my one true desire.." She said, lust filling her words with her true emotion. "Do we both long for the same things...?" She asked in a velvet tone, her eyes shifting to Pathos just for the briefest of seconds. She needed to make sure her tool remained close.
"I see," Desmond said as he turned his head to face Shayla. There was but a whisper's length of distance between their flesh. As the daemon spoke, Shayla would be able to feel his sweet breath against her skin.
"Naar would be pleased to have you serve in his army as a lieutenant," Desmond said as his hand retreated into his flowing robes. He procured a heavy gold coin from it. On both sides of the coin was a triangle trapped inside of a circle with two lines running perpendicular to the circle, one on top and one on bottom.
Desmond pressed the coin into Shayla's hand and offered his name before he asked the woman hers.
"Desmond Bornholdt, and I am ever gratefully at your service," the daemon said, placing a kiss on her hand.
"Naar would be pleased to have you serve in his army as a lieutenant," Desmond said as his hand retreated into his flowing robes. He procured a heavy gold coin from it. On both sides of the coin was a triangle trapped inside of a circle with two lines running perpendicular to the circle, one on top and one on bottom.
Desmond pressed the coin into Shayla's hand and offered his name before he asked the woman hers.
"Desmond Bornholdt, and I am ever gratefully at your service," the daemon said, placing a kiss on her hand.
"The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Bornholdt. I was known as Shayla the witch, but you may just call me Shayla." She said, sounding flattered at his gesture towards her. She felt the coin in her hand. "I look forward to serve in his army." She added.
Moving away from Desmond slightly, she looked towards the ocean. "What does Lord Naar require of me?" She wasn't sure how to address Naar, but she figured flattery would win her more than unintentionally insulting the entity. "Besides holding this feather for him, that is."
Moving away from Desmond slightly, she looked towards the ocean. "What does Lord Naar require of me?" She wasn't sure how to address Naar, but she figured flattery would win her more than unintentionally insulting the entity. "Besides holding this feather for him, that is."
"You see that man there," Desmond said, pointing to Pathos. The elven man was jerking his rod upward and fighting a fish that had caught on his lure.
"As foolish as he may seem," the daemon said to Shayla. "He is of utmost importance. There are several people who are searching for Dhaelhel's feathers, just like the one you've so cleverly hidden. A woman, an elven woman, name Lumariale is among the highest of their ranks. He was once the lover of that woman. You are to keep him hostage if such a case of him needing to be used against her comes into our little game."
"And if any come seeking the feather, you are to kill them in whatever manner that you please," Desmond said.
Pathos hollered from across the beach and held up his catch. It was a tiny little fish but he seemed very proud of it. Pathos didn't seem to see Desmond standing next to Shayla, that or he didn't care at all. If she looked down there would be no footprints where Desmond had walked.
"As foolish as he may seem," the daemon said to Shayla. "He is of utmost importance. There are several people who are searching for Dhaelhel's feathers, just like the one you've so cleverly hidden. A woman, an elven woman, name Lumariale is among the highest of their ranks. He was once the lover of that woman. You are to keep him hostage if such a case of him needing to be used against her comes into our little game."
"And if any come seeking the feather, you are to kill them in whatever manner that you please," Desmond said.
Pathos hollered from across the beach and held up his catch. It was a tiny little fish but he seemed very proud of it. Pathos didn't seem to see Desmond standing next to Shayla, that or he didn't care at all. If she looked down there would be no footprints where Desmond had walked.
Daring a brief glance behind Pathos, she noticed there were not footprints. She smiled and waved to Pathos. "I shall do as requested." She said, barely moving her lips as she spoke. "It shouldn't be too difficult to keep this fool close to me." She stated, nodding towards Pathos. "If I prove my usefulness to the Lord Naar, what shall I expect?"
Only waiting for an answer, she then asked. "If I need to speak to you, how should I seek for you?" She asked. "Or our Lord, hm?"
She then called out towards Pathos. "Magnificent! You are a master fishermen!"
Only waiting for an answer, she then asked. "If I need to speak to you, how should I seek for you?" She asked. "Or our Lord, hm?"
She then called out towards Pathos. "Magnificent! You are a master fishermen!"
"You shall expect the world to be ended as it is and then recreated to his liking," Desmond replied. It was a vague answer and Shayla would not be able to even come close to comprehending what Naar had in mind for Terra.
"You will be given a position of respect when that time comes. And as for contacting me," Desmond said as he looked pointedly at Shayla's hand; the one he had placed a coin in.
"Call my name and I will come," he said. "In one form or another, or if I am unavailable I will send another of the Naari to aid you." A single chuckle sounded low in the back of his throat.
"Do take care with the elven man. Remember that he is important, Shayla." Desmond walked away from the woman. Not a single footprint trailed behind him.
In the distance, Pathos was restringing his fishing pole. He was having a difficult time not snagging on the coral beneath the water's surface. A slew of curses flew from his mouth.
... the fish he had caught earlier flopped until it caught in the tide and then swam away.
"You will be given a position of respect when that time comes. And as for contacting me," Desmond said as he looked pointedly at Shayla's hand; the one he had placed a coin in.
"Call my name and I will come," he said. "In one form or another, or if I am unavailable I will send another of the Naari to aid you." A single chuckle sounded low in the back of his throat.
"Do take care with the elven man. Remember that he is important, Shayla." Desmond walked away from the woman. Not a single footprint trailed behind him.
In the distance, Pathos was restringing his fishing pole. He was having a difficult time not snagging on the coral beneath the water's surface. A slew of curses flew from his mouth.
... the fish he had caught earlier flopped until it caught in the tide and then swam away.
Shayla merely smiled as Desmond began to walk away. "I shall remember. Come and visit me soon, I hope that you won't need to feel so formal next time, Mr. Bornholdt." She said, teasing him of course. She gave the coin a squeeze before securing it in a braided necklace that she tucked inside her shirt.
Soon she was walking across the white sand over to Pathos, though her eyes were on the fish he had captured. The elf truly seemed to be an idiot. So she was to use him to her advantage when the time came, hm? She sat down next to where the elf stood restringing his pole. "So, you've never given me a name to call you, Master." She said softly, her eyes gazing longingly out in the distance. "I'm Shayla." She flashed a soft smile in his direction, despite all the curses. "I can help you with that, if you wish."
Soon she was walking across the white sand over to Pathos, though her eyes were on the fish he had captured. The elf truly seemed to be an idiot. So she was to use him to her advantage when the time came, hm? She sat down next to where the elf stood restringing his pole. "So, you've never given me a name to call you, Master." She said softly, her eyes gazing longingly out in the distance. "I'm Shayla." She flashed a soft smile in his direction, despite all the curses. "I can help you with that, if you wish."
The line on his pole was a tangled mess; a ball of chaos. Pathos grumbled and threw it down to the ground. Of course a woman wouldn't know how to make a proper pole! She probably just figured it was a piece of wood with some string attached!
"Stop callin' me master!" Pathos yelled at her. He looked surprised for yelling at her for a split second before Pathos's eyes drifted down to the pole.
"Jus' Pathos'll be fine," he murmured beneath his breath. He gave the woman another glance before he took out his flask. He drank deeply from it and sat his behind down on the sandy shore. Pathos closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of the ocean against the beach.
"Ye can really bring dead people back t'life?" His question was a very small whisper, almost as if he were thinking to ask the question and not really asking it to Shayla.
"Stop callin' me master!" Pathos yelled at her. He looked surprised for yelling at her for a split second before Pathos's eyes drifted down to the pole.
"Jus' Pathos'll be fine," he murmured beneath his breath. He gave the woman another glance before he took out his flask. He drank deeply from it and sat his behind down on the sandy shore. Pathos closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of the ocean against the beach.
"Ye can really bring dead people back t'life?" His question was a very small whisper, almost as if he were thinking to ask the question and not really asking it to Shayla.
The woman took the pole and began to unravel the string, the smile never fading off her lips as she unraveled it. She was not phased by him yelling at her, nor was she angry. Simply indifferent. "Well, it is nice to meet you Pathos." Her tone was as sweet as honey.
Concentrating on the string, she pulled one strand after another until the knots came loose. "I have before." She said in a way that seemed she wasn't really paying attention. "In the past, I've brought the dead back to life. But it shouldn't matter to you, you've already decided not to ask me to do so for her. Whoever she was." Never mind the fact the trick she truly did was create a copy of whoever the person who asked the question so that they'd believe she'd brought them to life. Of course, all this was done at a price to the person who did ask.
With the pole unraveled, she held it to him silently, her feathered ears flicking slightly.
Concentrating on the string, she pulled one strand after another until the knots came loose. "I have before." She said in a way that seemed she wasn't really paying attention. "In the past, I've brought the dead back to life. But it shouldn't matter to you, you've already decided not to ask me to do so for her. Whoever she was." Never mind the fact the trick she truly did was create a copy of whoever the person who asked the question so that they'd believe she'd brought them to life. Of course, all this was done at a price to the person who did ask.
With the pole unraveled, she held it to him silently, her feathered ears flicking slightly.
Pathos made a few unintelligible grumbling noises. So, she claimed she could bring back the dead. It was a tempting offer. The love of Pathos's life had been dead for thousands of years now. That woman had ended a never-ending war between two people that were the same. It was only the color of their skin that had been different from each other. Now the two elven clans lived in peace.
"What abou' m'fish? Can ye bring tha' one back?" Pathos asked Shayla. His eye squinted as he looked at the woman. If he squinted enough she almost looked like her. It was an uncomfortable thought for Pathos.
He took the pole from Shayla and sat back on his bum. The sand was warm and comfortable. Pathos tossed out his hook after he had put another worm on it. And then he just sat in silence.
"What abou' m'fish? Can ye bring tha' one back?" Pathos asked Shayla. His eye squinted as he looked at the woman. If he squinted enough she almost looked like her. It was an uncomfortable thought for Pathos.
He took the pole from Shayla and sat back on his bum. The sand was warm and comfortable. Pathos tossed out his hook after he had put another worm on it. And then he just sat in silence.
The woman's white brow rose slightly. "Do you mean the one that swam away?" She asked, curious. She rested her chin on her knees, wrapping her arms around her legs. "Or do you mean a pet fish that died?" She asked. "Either way, the answer is yes."
The elf's ears drooped underneath the heat of the sun. She never really liked hot places, but she would endure. For now at least. Staring out to the ocean, she remained silent until he asked her another question or decided to drum up a conversation.
Patience was the key to winning this one, she thought. She would have to wait until he came to her. He would be the fish in this story.
The elf's ears drooped underneath the heat of the sun. She never really liked hot places, but she would endure. For now at least. Staring out to the ocean, she remained silent until he asked her another question or decided to drum up a conversation.
Patience was the key to winning this one, she thought. She would have to wait until he came to her. He would be the fish in this story.
The beach was not to Molko's liking, not in the least. As a Dwarf, he had three major preferences; Darkness, Cold, and Solid ground. Hot, bright, sandy and wet was practically the exact opposite to what he would have liked. "Ach," he says, wearily. "Ladies," he calls ahead to his two charges.
When they had pressed through the woodlands and found the beach, the two women had pulled ahead of him. They barely used him as a translator, though now that they were 'alone' it felt like he was having to shout up to them in either language, depending. Laden down with all of his gear, he was quite frustrated.
"Wha' say we take a quick break, aye?"
When they had pressed through the woodlands and found the beach, the two women had pulled ahead of him. They barely used him as a translator, though now that they were 'alone' it felt like he was having to shout up to them in either language, depending. Laden down with all of his gear, he was quite frustrated.
"Wha' say we take a quick break, aye?"
Ahead of the Dwarf, Selwen was walking at a somewhat leisurely pace alongside Dejah. She had removed her helmet- after all, it was quite hot on the beach- but the rest of her armor remained on. She would not be caught so unaware. An influence told her that she should, all the same. Be cool, comfortable, revealing. It brought a dark hue to her already heat-flushed face.
She had taken to Dejah well, despite their barrier in communication. She was trying, occasionally and with Molko's assistance, to bridge the gap of language between her and Dejah. She was curious about the woman, almost fascinated. She had brought her to assistance, and she still sought to give her thanks somehow. In the Drow tongue would be best, she felt, but if she could be taught Common then it might be more worthwhile to her.
At Molko's pleading, a fair distance behind them, she pauses and turns around. "Forgive us, Lord Molko," she calls back to him, bowing her head in apology. She takes Dejah by the hand- almost unthinkingly- and begins to lead them back towards the Dwarf. There was a line of palm trees nearby that they could shelter under for a brief time, but Selwen - and Molko too, surely- understood the need of their mission.
She had taken to Dejah well, despite their barrier in communication. She was trying, occasionally and with Molko's assistance, to bridge the gap of language between her and Dejah. She was curious about the woman, almost fascinated. She had brought her to assistance, and she still sought to give her thanks somehow. In the Drow tongue would be best, she felt, but if she could be taught Common then it might be more worthwhile to her.
At Molko's pleading, a fair distance behind them, she pauses and turns around. "Forgive us, Lord Molko," she calls back to him, bowing her head in apology. She takes Dejah by the hand- almost unthinkingly- and begins to lead them back towards the Dwarf. There was a line of palm trees nearby that they could shelter under for a brief time, but Selwen - and Molko too, surely- understood the need of their mission.
Dejah looked down at the hand clasping hers. It made a small smile form on her face. Selwen was a good friend. Dejah had been enjoying learning the common tongue. There was a distinct rhythm to how it was spoken and Dejah soaked up new words with ease. It was an opportunity to let her intelligence shine, and Dejah was pushing herself to learn more because she wanted to know everything about Selwen.
Selwen; it was the first word that Dejah had learned. Molko had been next.
When all three of them reached the line of palms, Dejah did not sit. In fact, she wandered through the scattered trees. There was a darker jungle behind palms and Dejah did not stop walking until she reached it. The ranger took a moment and crouched down near the sand.
Barely in the line of sight of Molko and Selwen, it may have seemed to them that Dejah was relieving her body. But Dejah was doing nothing of the sort. The heat of the beach removed the necessity of having to pass water. It merely trickled from every pore of her skin instead.
Placing two fingers between her lips, Dejah let out a long and low whistle.
Selwen; it was the first word that Dejah had learned. Molko had been next.
When all three of them reached the line of palms, Dejah did not sit. In fact, she wandered through the scattered trees. There was a darker jungle behind palms and Dejah did not stop walking until she reached it. The ranger took a moment and crouched down near the sand.
Barely in the line of sight of Molko and Selwen, it may have seemed to them that Dejah was relieving her body. But Dejah was doing nothing of the sort. The heat of the beach removed the necessity of having to pass water. It merely trickled from every pore of her skin instead.
Placing two fingers between her lips, Dejah let out a long and low whistle.
Molko was happy for the rest, slumping into the sand with a displeased expression on his face. From his pack he pulls a few flasks- water for the ladies, ale for himself- and distributes them about.
That is, he gives Selwen hers. He pauses and looks around for Dejah, who he did not see anywhere, until he spots the dark of her hair in contrast to the sand and trees around her. His attention is further grabbed by her whistle. "Ai," he calls out to her in Drow. "What're you whistling for?" Not that he sought to admonish her, but she had left her mount with Maree, and that was the only reason he could think that she might issue such a call.
Unless she was trying to get their attention? Standing with a belabored sigh, he looks over towards her to see if his hunch was correct. "I've go' water!" he cries out, lifting the metal flask into the air.
That is, he gives Selwen hers. He pauses and looks around for Dejah, who he did not see anywhere, until he spots the dark of her hair in contrast to the sand and trees around her. His attention is further grabbed by her whistle. "Ai," he calls out to her in Drow. "What're you whistling for?" Not that he sought to admonish her, but she had left her mount with Maree, and that was the only reason he could think that she might issue such a call.
Unless she was trying to get their attention? Standing with a belabored sigh, he looks over towards her to see if his hunch was correct. "I've go' water!" he cries out, lifting the metal flask into the air.
Selwen accepts one of the flasks graciously, taking a long, pleasing drink from it. She didn't have it as bad as the Dwarf, especially coming from a much hotter climate than this, but the heat was still sapping.
Looking towards Dejah, she watches her going about her business at the edge of the trees for a moment before averting her eyes. Whatever she was doing was none of her business.
Or is it, inquires the voice. Selwen shakes her head, deciding that it was not. But she still was curious.
Her curiosity was further piqued by the whistle, which set the hairs on the back of her neck up. Hearing Molko call out to her in Drow, Selwen waits for the reply and a translation expectantly.
Looking towards Dejah, she watches her going about her business at the edge of the trees for a moment before averting her eyes. Whatever she was doing was none of her business.
Or is it, inquires the voice. Selwen shakes her head, deciding that it was not. But she still was curious.
Her curiosity was further piqued by the whistle, which set the hairs on the back of her neck up. Hearing Molko call out to her in Drow, Selwen waits for the reply and a translation expectantly.
There was silence aside from the call of Molko. Dejah ignored him for the time being. She was listening for an answer...
And it came in the form of a bestial cry. A smile spread across Dejah's face and she stood up as the sounds of foliage crashing about filled the jungle. Two more cries answered the whistle and the sounds intensified. Three, massive, black shapes emerged from the dense trees.
The crashed into Dejah and the woman went down beneath them. She disappeared out of Molko's and Selwen's sight. They would not see that the enormous panthers were play wrestling with Dejah, nor that their claws were sheathed. Dejah handled the big cats well enough and returned their affections.
It had been a long time since she last saw her friends. Tanak'u, was the male, Tia and Tola were his female companions. There was a smaller one too that Dejah did not notice until it poked its head out from around a bush. Tia stopped greeting Dejah and took the kit into her mouth. She offered it to Dejah; dropped it right into her lap.
And it came in the form of a bestial cry. A smile spread across Dejah's face and she stood up as the sounds of foliage crashing about filled the jungle. Two more cries answered the whistle and the sounds intensified. Three, massive, black shapes emerged from the dense trees.
The crashed into Dejah and the woman went down beneath them. She disappeared out of Molko's and Selwen's sight. They would not see that the enormous panthers were play wrestling with Dejah, nor that their claws were sheathed. Dejah handled the big cats well enough and returned their affections.
It had been a long time since she last saw her friends. Tanak'u, was the male, Tia and Tola were his female companions. There was a smaller one too that Dejah did not notice until it poked its head out from around a bush. Tia stopped greeting Dejah and took the kit into her mouth. She offered it to Dejah; dropped it right into her lap.
Having not gained a reply, Molko was prepared to tell Selwen that she was probably just going about her business. That is, until the sound of vicious, bestial roars meet their ears.
His eyes wide, Molko starts running in that direction. He hated running. With an undying passion. Dwarves were just not built for it, even unladen. He takes a swig of his flask as he runs, then cries out in Drow. "We're comin', Dejah! Hold on!"
He would likely be passed by Selwen, but he was doing his best to get where he thought Dejah was in trouble.
His eyes wide, Molko starts running in that direction. He hated running. With an undying passion. Dwarves were just not built for it, even unladen. He takes a swig of his flask as he runs, then cries out in Drow. "We're comin', Dejah! Hold on!"
He would likely be passed by Selwen, but he was doing his best to get where he thought Dejah was in trouble.
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