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Author Topic: Ximax  (Read 23887 times)
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Ílarolén'yliás (Drustai)
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« Reply #60 on: March 09, 2010, 08:30:24 PM »

Drustai stretched her neck outward as her eyes peered downwards at her reflection in the mirror. With the exception of a v-shaped patch of skin ending just above her collarbones, her neck was wrapped in a blackish-purple band of cloth that reached up to her jaw line. She took a slow breath, and felt it almost restricted, as if the material was compressing her throat. She pursed her lips for a moment, and then lowered her head down to be level again. It would do.

It had been almost 30 years since she had last been in the City of Mages. They had removed her for practicing Necromancy, alongside her former master, Azthudan. Drustai tightened her jaw slightly as the name entered her mind, and then pushed it away. She had learned all she needed from him, and she no longer needed him. What she needed now was Ximax. Nybelmar had been a waste, arrogant human pigs and ancient ruins lying dead under the dirt had locked their secrets to her.

Drustai closed her eyes as she dipped a small brush into her pot of black eyeshadow. She lifted the brush to her eyes and wiped it slowly over the contours of her eyelids. She opened her eyes after a few moments and checked the smoothness of the shape.

She was crawling back to grovel before these humans that had cast her aside before. She doubted that they would readmit her. These human mages prided themselves on their limited control of magic, yet rejected anything that did not fit their frame of mind. Drustai was less interested in learning any more of their ‘techniques’, moreso that she needed what could be found in their archives. Maybe something could be in there that would help her. Something that these humans had discounted because of their poor grasp of the true nature of magic in favour of what they knew and could control.

Drustai pulled her black hair behind her ears as she patted a touch, almost sheer, shade of brownish-red over her cheeks. With her pale skin, only the very lightest tone looked natural. As if they would even notice or care about any of this, she mused. But it was a trait of human nature that she had learned over the years, and she knew that their reactions and decision making was easily influenced by the appearance of the person they were talking to. And Drustai could not deny the pleasure in feeling beautiful, even after all these centuries. The edges of her lips curled up in a brief smile as she leaned forwards and momentarily admired her visage, before leaning back and letting the smile fade.

She was wearing her finest robe for the hearing. The same black-purple material that encircled her neck hugged her body down from her shoulders to her hips, where it proceeded to loosen slightly in a dress and fall down to her feet. A silver brassiere in the center of the robe shaped her ample bosom, which peaked out from a split down the middle of the robe that began below the Bloodstone pendant around her neck down to her waist. Two teal-green toccon straps rimmed by silver flanked her chest on either side, and they ran down from her shoulders to just before the edge of the dress.

Drustai turned from the mirror and walked over to her bed, and picked up her usual steel-clawed gauntlets. She slipped them over each of her hands, and stretched the fingers out for a moment as she looked at them. Though the sharp metal claws at the tips of her fingers were perhaps disconcerting to others, they were more of a last-ditch weapon for her than an eccentric fashion statement.

To finish off the outfit, Drustai picked up her royal purple cloak and placed it over her shoulders. Though she traditionally wore a simple cloak around her shoulders, this time she wore a mantle. Two ornamented teal-green pauldrons stretched outward from her shoulders, causing the cloak to completely envelop her as if she were twice as wide. It was a regal and pompous outfit by any standards—the kind that made clear her status. And to further sharpen the point, she clasped her thick scrollbook to her belt and grabbed her staff from its place against the wall.

Drustai turned to take one last look at the mirror, before she spun on her heels and stepped out the door.

*     *     *

... and was met on her descent from the stairs by what appeared to be coins falling from the ceiling. She furrowed her brow and held up an arm protectively over her head as the silver and gold fell to the floor. Her eyes flashed around the room. This was no miracle--she herself was a mage and this was the City of Magic. Though whomever was casting this spell had more talent than most--to create gold and silver out of thin air?

Drustai struck an arm out and caught one, and examined it between her fingers. It was solid, and the etchings and embroidery upon its face were as real as the most authentic production coin. Somehow, someone in this room was creating money.

Elemental magic could not do this. It could not truly create, nor truly alter. It could hide, enhance, destroy certainly. But on an elemental level only. A coin was comprised of traces of all elements, and was comprised of an explicit Idea and the Structure necessary for that Idea to exist. Only Raw magic could truly create something from nothing, to alter one thing to another. And when the items changed even further to paper and glass, she was convinced.

Drustai's grey eyes flashed up, and she peered around the tavern for the source of this... this wild magic. She had come to Ximax in search of more powerful magic than the basic elemental processes she had learned at Ximax, magic beyond those of her people. And in all of her searches, she had at best come to the sites of long-dead arcane arts. She had come to Ximax seeking secrets in books, and yet, here, right in front of her, was a red-haired, young human man, who appeared to be the source of a magic that was supposed to be impossible. Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment, joy flashed in her breast, before she calmed her emotions. She had been let down before, and while this was certainly an opportunity, it was in no way guaranteed.

Drustai turned away from the stairs, turning to the wall as she eyed the group surrounding the man. Three women, one with a... moonblade? Those were not common weapons in these lands. There were two men, one of them the raw mage and the other looking to be from the south, along with one of the women, judging from his darkened skin and weapon. And last--a brownie, atop a fox. Drustai paid the small creature no mind.

She pressed the base of her staff to the ground, and held it to the side as she stood up firmly, observing only. It was certainly not time for her to approach, she knew. The crowd was angry at the sudden fulfillment and then abrupt removal of their desires. One of the more bold ones approached, and began talking angrily with the group. He argued over the raw mage's playing with their emotions, and to this, Drustai agreed. She pursed her lips and arched her head back, eying the red-haired man for his answer. But the mage didn't. Instead, he sat down, realizing his wrongness.

Drustai frowned, then tilted her head for a moment. If he was humble rather than arrogant, then he would certainly be easier to approach. But the scene was far too tense now for that. When the man left, Drustai looked down to the floor, then up to the exit. Her eyes turned to the group, then, after allowing a moment of quiet to pass, proceeded to silently weave her way through the crowd and follow.

Though she trailed the man from afar, keeping her presence hidden amongst the people of the city, she did not immediately approach him. He broke down into grief, and the others soon followed to comfort him. When they left him alone, he approached the stables, seeking the one southern woman, and spoke with her.

Drustai shook her head. It was no time to speak with him now. She turned and headed back to the inn, and glanced at the group's table. Perhaps they knew more. She took a breath, tilted her head up, pursed her lips, and strode up to their table. She ignored the young woman, who seemed to have been taken a fancy to by the fool, Gavril--a person Drustai had seen a few times in the inn already over the past several days. Instead, she looked to the southern man and the woman with a moonblade, both of whom had just re-entered, and, toning her voice down, she asked as politely as possible. "Your friend, the redhaired one... who is he?"

Drustai's expression was furrowed in one of some concern, and that laced itself in her voice as well. She was indeed somewhat concerned, though more important was that she appear that way so as to not look intruding.
« Last Edit: March 09, 2010, 08:34:06 PM by Drustai » Logged
Ta'lia of the Seven Jewels
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« Reply #61 on: March 10, 2010, 12:48:05 AM »

"Talia," she hears somebody softly saying. No, not somebody - Capher.

Talia‘s trembling fingers dig in Swings fur to hold her hands steady. Not wanting to show Capher, how disturbed she is she hesitates to turn round to him.  I don‘t want him to see my wet face and red eyes, no, I don‘t want him to be worried about me, he has his own problems... She doesn‘t know, what to say, or how to express how she is feeling, or what. She cannot pin it down for herself, even less for somebody else. I need  time to think all this through, to understand what has happened, to get used to.. to the new situation.

But Capher is waiting in her back, waiting , that she turns round and tells him, what‘s the matter.

She wipes all tears away, hoping she will not look too terrible, but knows, that her eyes will betray her. And then she turns round to face Capher, her old friend, her new acquaintance. As Swing decides in this moment, to lie down, Talia lowers herself also, sits on her haunches, her back being supported by Swings warm belly.

Don‘t worry, Capher, I will come in a few minutes. I just got sick and had to go outside and suddenly all was too much for me, your change in appearance, your...  rant with the money, your running away...   don‘t worry, I‘m having my days and you know, that we females are always a bit .. imbalanced.

How she hates this excuse, this lie. She never had accepted this false statement. It was unknown in the Shendar society. As soon as the pain which comes often with the moon cycle was over, these days were the best, regarding strength and endurance. Will that old-dragon-which-is-no-man accept it? Or has he turned human ba now, the way he has acted today?

I don‘t think I can eat much just now, nor that I can stand the commotion in the inn. Would you please keep some breakfast for me, maybe do a little package I can eat later on our way to the library?

She gives Capher a small smile, trying hard to find the features of her old friend behind the good looking face of that younger man. She shouldn‘t really give a damn thing to how somebody looked like. Was it not what was behind a face which was important? Of course it was, but to focus on the invisible being of somebody was not easy. One was so used to the „exterior“ and to link the „interior“ to it.

Again a wave of nausea comes over her and she gets up quickly to find a place where it did not bother, if she stained it.

Capher, could you please bring me some water from over there?

Exhausted she sits again, with her back to her animal.

I‘m afraid, you need to go to the library without me this morning.
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Talas Anthavin
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« Reply #62 on: March 11, 2010, 12:51:17 PM »

Ta'las looks uneasily from Terra to this unknown woman.  Her appearance and the overall quality of her clothing indicated that she likely was not poor, and the tone of her voice indicated she was attempting to show concern for Capher rather than inquire about his ability to make money appear.  Still, the Shendar's guard is up.  "I'm sorry, but you and we are strangers here.  Our friend's name is his own to give away, if he so wishes.  If you wish to speak more, we could offer at least a token of hospitality and ask you to join us at our table," he says with a nod to where Roosje sits in the company of Sondirra and a man Ta'las doesn't know.

"My name is Ta'las," he adds quietly.
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Capher
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« Reply #63 on: March 12, 2010, 02:37:20 AM »

Talia turns and faces Capher. Capher could see tiny spots of wetness on her cheeks and the redness in her eyes tells him that she had been crying. Swing, her Aj, lays down and Talia follows with her back to the animal sitting on her haunches.

"Don‘t worry, Capher, I will come in a few minutes. I just got sick and had to go outside and suddenly all was too much for me, your change in appearance, your...  rant with the money, your running away...   don‘t worry, I‘m having my days and you know, that we females are always a bit .. imbalanced."

Capher felt as if a dozen daggars were thrust through his heart as he looked down upon her. he had caused her this much pain! Capher listened more as Talia explained something about having her days. Capher's brow furrowed as he thought of the many times he had not only seen a woman go through this, but had heard men talking about this cycle that only females go through and when they do it is best to leave them alone. However, Capher was puzzled. Yes, females become irritable, even imbalanced, but Capher had never heard of them getting so sick that they vomited, at least as far as he knew. The only time Capher had ever seen a female this imbalanced and vomiting is when they were with...child.

[/i]By Seyella's forebearance! Could Talia be with child?[/i] Capher thought back to the attraction Talia had with Koldar. He began counting months...it well could be. Perhaps, she knows and that is why her mood has been so up and down. She is afraid to tell us. Afraid of not being able to help us, but mostly afraid of her unborn child.

Capher's thoughts are interrupted.

"I don‘t think I can eat much just now, nor that I can stand the commotion in the inn. Would you please keep some breakfast for me, maybe do a little package I can eat later on our way to the library?"

"Certainly Talia," Capher answers, "I will be glad to do that."

Talia gives him quick smile. Capher warmly smiled back at her. Suddenly she raises, goes farther into Swing's stall and vomits again. She returns. "Capher, could you please bring me some water from over there?"

Capher rushes over to a bucket of water, finds a tin cup, dips into the water. A single thought goes out from his mind and the water becomes cold and sterile. He returns to Talia who has once again knelt down upon her haunches with her back to Swing. Capher could see she was exhausted. Capher knelt down and handed her the cup of water. Capher was very concerned and it showed on his face and especially in his eyes as he gazed at Talia.

"Talia...I...I am so sorry I caused you pain. I tried to teach something to those who value things instead of what is really important; such as true friendship and," his voice softer adds, "family."

"I‘m afraid, you need to go to the library without me this morning." Talia says.

"I agree, Talia. Here, let me help you up and I will help you to your room where you can lie down and be comfortable. I will give the others your apologies and bring up your food before we head to the library," Capher said extending his hand toward Talia. "Do you wish for me to ask for a healer to come to your room as well? It may be that she or he may have something to give to you to...to...well help you, with, um...you know," Capher said, tripping over his words.

Capher had never dealt with a woman with child before and thinking of Talia brought Ta'las and Terra to mind. By the gods could Terra also become with child? Certainly if Ta'las and her continue on like they are doing it was very conceivable. Perhaps a poor choice of word there, Capher, but possible. But how do you talk to them about something so...so, personal?

Of course it never occured to Capher that what Talia had told him could have been the truth and that Terra, being a full grown woman would know how not to have a child.

Capher's brow furrowed, his eyes narrowed as his brain became overloaded. He needed time and a space to think, but it will have to wait. Now he had to get Talia to the inn and into her bed.
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Ta'lia of the Seven Jewels
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« Reply #64 on: March 17, 2010, 09:19:44 PM »

Talia is glad to be in her bed, alone. Her stomach has settle down by now, Capher will bring up some food later, and hopefully she will be able to eat it. And even later she will try to get out of the city to an empty place, any place without so many people around her.

Why do the people bother me suddenly? I have been in crowded paces before without that dread of closed places and a lot of people around..  Could it be Ximax? Why Ximax? What is special here? The magic? I have magical items, my sword, my flute, none of them did trouble me so far. But it occurred when Capher used his magic, or shortly after. But he did that before, and it didn‘t affect me, or did it? ...  Oh, I didn‘t say, that it was not him, which caused me pain, when he apologised, or was it truly the case? Oh,  I don‘t know.

Though still puzzling about the world and herself, her troubled mind has settled down also. Capher‘s care in the stable had warmed her and reassured her, though she always had felt a tremble running through her, when she had glanced shortly at him, when he had touched her, taken her arm to guide her to her room. But that was not an unpleasant sensation, as she realised only later.  But now, lying in her bed and thinking all over, she preferred to visualise the old wizard. The old friend she had known so far. Sometimes, when her thoughts dared to imagine the new Capher, she  felt a little chilly.

Maybe I should not think of him as an old, wise man, but the dragon behind that mask? Is it a mask, is the new, unsettling Capher a mask as well? Am I about to fall in love with an ages old dragon? But why does he not act as such a wise age old dragon!!  Is he about to become a bit human, as he always wished? Darn, why does my body react to those red hairs and handsome face? One should love what is behind that, the soul.., whatever. Maybe I‘m only jealous... Terra, Ta‘las, but I‘m glad they found each other...  oh Baveras... maybe I should pray to Seyella instead? How can we fight such a great evil, if we have to deal with so many of our weaknesses? And Capher wants to take Blueeyes along, how crazy an idea.. though she is nice. Haha, we could beat the evil with surprise, because it is not realising, that such a person would want to fight it....such nice blond hairs.. 

And then Talia falls in a light sleep, dreaming of shapeshifting dragons, old wizards, blond, blue eyed women and a young, red haired man...

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Capher
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« Reply #65 on: March 19, 2010, 02:57:31 AM »

Capher left Talia lying comfortably on her bed in her room and rushed downstairs to get her some food. As Capher reached the last landing and looked over at the table there were some people that he did not know thereabout.

The first one was an older man speaking to Sondirra, who seemed to be frightened, yet intrigued by the man. Capher wondered who he was and why he was talking to Sondirra.

The other person of interest was a woman, an elf actually, by the shape of her ears as they peeked out slightly from beneath her long dark hair. Capher could only see her from the back as she seemed to be talking to Ta'las and Terra. She wore a royal purple cloak. That usually signified someone of nobility, but the usual elf did not usually go around wearing such clothes; they thought of them as ostentatious. So why was this elf wearing such clothing?

Capher then remembered Talia and walked fast to the table. He quickly grabbed a plate, filled it with meat, an egg, some dark bread and plenty of fruit, Capher quickly spoke, "Talia, is in her room and I am bringing her some breakfast. I shall return quickly," he told Ta'las and Terra as he grabbed a large pitcher of milk and rushed away without acknowleding the woman or man.

Capher quickly went up to Talia's room, knocked on her door, opened it, and found Talia asleep. Capher placed the plate of food and pitcher of milk on the table next to her bed. Capher thought of waking her, but decided not to as he stared down at her face. It always made him curious as he looked at people when they slept compared to how they looked when they were awake. In sleep, the lines softened around the face while the face itself relaxed, as if thanking the gods it could throw off the mask it held when the person who had it was awake.

Talia's face had softened. She looked at peace and a glow seemed to emminate from her skin, making her look more beautiful than she already was. Capher gently smiled, as he pulled up her blanket to her chin. He kissed her softly on her forehead and then left her room.

Returning back to the main hall of the inn he walked back to the table where the elven woman was still standing and the older man was sitting next to Sondirra. Capher decided to introduce himself to the elven woman first as she was the closest. As Capher finally took a good look at the elven woman, he quickly realized she was a Kaýrrhem elf and that made Capher suspicous and curious.

She was exquisitely dressed, though the steel clawed gloves she wore seemed out of place with the rest of her royal outfit, and as most elves had soft features, however it was her dark shadowed eyes that caught Capher's attention most of all as he introduced himself.

"I apologize for not introducing myself earlier but I have a friend of ours who needed me urgently. Thankfully, she is now resting peacefully." Capher held out his hand, "I am Capher and you are...?" Capher asked the elfess.
« Last Edit: March 19, 2010, 03:00:04 AM by Capher » Logged
Sondirra Moryveen
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« Reply #66 on: March 19, 2010, 05:57:48 AM »

It appears as though the brownie is as ambivalent about following the others outside as Sondirra is.  So, she sits there, bored, chewing the inside of her cheek while staring at her fingers and rolling her hands over in her lap.  No ink at all.  Imagine if you could sell magic like a bar of soap!  So much less work than scrubbing and scrubbing.  And less painful by far.

There is movement and an old man sits at the table and begins telling the story of him fighting off seawolves.  Sondirra looks questioningly to Ruby, but the brownie simply shrugs.  Confused, she returns her attention back to the old man.  She raises an eyebrow when he describes losing an arm and having to get it reattached by a shrunken elf.  How small was this elf?  Ruby's size?

So engrossed is she, that Sondirra never notices a stranger approach the table until the stranger demands to know who the redheaded man is.  Sondirra gulps.  This stranger, an elf, and not a shrunken one, unsettles her.  The elf seems dark and dangerous.  Sondirra finds her mouth suddenly quite dry and she licks her lips unsuccessfully.  She notes with relief that the question had not been directed at her, but at Ahj and his woman, who had returned.  Sondirra feels better at the prospect of having them around.

Sondirra leans in conspiratorially to the old man and whispers.  "I hope you are as good with full grown elves as you are with seawolves."
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Terra Artemos
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« Reply #67 on: March 21, 2010, 04:08:45 PM »

Terra remains silent as they are addressed by the rather regally dressed elf, though her face slides behind her cool mask, betraying none of her happiness, love, or worry. These are things for the future and thus set aside in her mind, what mattered now, what matters now is what the elf intends to do, and what she will do. Terra watches the elf's movements, especially her hands and claw tipped gauntlets. Something in the elf's baring though told Terra if this elf intended them harm she likely would not strike with the gauntlets first, but an unseen weapon, magic. She had learned from her last battle with the sorceress on the ferry, if this one raises her power against them Terra is prepared to strike without hesitation or restraint. It was hesitation to kill the sorceress that had nearly killed many of them, and so Terra would not repeat her mistake.

Capher approaches the table only briefly to tell them Talia is resting her room and he is taking her food, then returns a time later and addresses the elf. Though Capher greets the elf in a friendly manner he is also apparently cautious to say little till he knew who he was addressing, and so Terra chooses not to ease her guard just yet. This encounter may yet turn into a battle, and though she does not favour a battle in such a cluttered place with so many bystanders around, they may well not have a choice. The last sorceress that had been sent after them had not cared how many bystanders she killed or even if her own conjuring killed her as well as them. However this did not seem the same, the sorceress in there mist seemed to have true concern for Capher, but something Terra could tell was hidden beneath it, the truth of this sorceresses concern is meerly a convenient cover for another intent.
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Ílarolén'yliás (Drustai)
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« Reply #68 on: March 21, 2010, 07:49:04 PM »

"I'm sorry, but you and we are strangers here. Our friend's name is his own to give away, if he so wishes. If you wish to speak more, we could offer at least a token of hospitality and ask you to join us at our table. My name is Ta'las."

Drustai smiled politely, and bowed her head. She assumed she had come on too forward, and his response did not surprise her. She took a breath and straightened her posture some. "I thank you for the offer, Ta'las." She was about to introduce herself, when the very man she had been wanting to meet entered the room. Her gaze moved towards him for a moment, as he walked upstairs, helping one of the other woman up the stairs. Drustai turned back towards Ta'las.

"My name is Drustai, sir. A pleasure to meet you. I would be honored to be allowed a seat at your table." She kept her tone cool and businessman-like, and turned her body to the side, motioning a hand towards the table for Ta'las and the other woman to move towards the table ahead of her. She then followed them.

By the time they had arrived at the table, the other man had finally arrived. She glanced at him as he approached, though he seemed in a hurry, and he said, ""Talia, is in her room and I am bringing her some breakfast. I shall return quickly." Talia. So that was the other's name. Drustai mentally noted that, then looked back towards Ta'las and the woman. Drustai's gaze stopped to peer over her for a moment. This one was dangerous, she immediately noted. She had seen the way her eyes flickered--subtly--about her, watching her, her hands especially, and her cool expression and silence disturbed Drustai. Though she could not completely make it out beneath her clothing, the woman seemed tense. Drustai gave her the same professional smile, but her eyes did not carry the same politeness, before turning her gaze back to Ta'las.

Before she could speak, or take a seat at the table, the other man had finally returned, this time more permanently. He held out his hand and introduced himself as Capher--a name that immediately rang a bell. Something she had read in the Compendium? Most likely just someone who had taken the name, but with the magic he had performed before... Drustai held back a frown for a moment, then pursed her lips and reached out her own hand to shake his firmly.

"I am Drustai, of the Kaýrrhem, sir," she motioned for the three of them to sit, before taking a seat herself, "I apologize for disturbing your table, I had just been concerned about your sudden departure after your 'display' earlier." She held up a hand and shook her head. "I am no peddler, merely a mage, as you are." She was 'merely' a mage, certainly, though being from Nybelmar, and an elven mage at that, whom were few in this human academy, would most likely raise flags, she hoped her attire, and the staff that she had set leaning against the side of the table, would support her truthful claim.

"I hope what that other human said did not hit you so hard as it seemed to? And I apologize if I seem abrupt in asking." She furrowed her brow slightly with concern, and paused, giving Capher, or the others around him, a chance to speak. Though she was putting on a facade of politeness, she felt excessively vulnerable here, surrounded by this group of swordsmen and powerful wizards. Her eyes flickered between the group, especially watching the red-haired woman with the Moonblade--though she largely kept her in the corner of her eyes rather than looking directly at her so as to not arouse suspicion. Drustai's own guard was up now, and her muscles tensed slightly beneath her voluminous robes.

« Last Edit: March 21, 2010, 08:06:57 PM by Drustai » Logged
Talas Anthavin
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« Reply #69 on: March 22, 2010, 10:18:00 AM »

He is definitely interested when she mentions that she is of the Kaýrrhem - one of the elusive wood-elves from the jungles of Nybelmar, if his information is correct.  Though Ta'las has never met a Kaýr before, he has heard of them, and he is curious why one of them would be looking for Capher so far away from home.  But then, we're all far from home, aren't we?

The tension in the room has increased, and though Ta'las is uncertain it can be easily diffused, he decides not to add any more to it.  Besides, he knows Terra and Capher can deal with Drustai better than he, if anything needs to be done.  However, judging by the uneasy look in Drustai's eyes, he guesses that she has no desire to initiate a fight of any sort in the tavern.  The Shendar takes a seat at the table and slides far enough over to let whomever wishes to sit next to him. 

Ta'las looks over at the Brownie, who has been joined by another stranger.  "Roosje, you seem to have a knack for meeting new people.  I trust you and Sondirra are enjoying your meal?"  Then, he nods to Gavril.  "Sir, I am Ta'las, son of An'thavin, of the Shen-Khasi.  And you?"
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« Reply #70 on: March 23, 2010, 02:11:36 AM »

"I am Drustai, of the Kaýrrhem, sir," She said after she took and firmly shook Capher's hand, as well as inviting them to sit down.

Capher sat down. Drustai's apperance, especially at this time and in Ximax, puzzled Capher. He slowly placed some food on his plate as he listened to her speak, wondering if she was another of Eckra's minions.

"I apologize for disturbing your table, I had just been concerned about your sudden departure after your 'display' earlier."

Why would she be concerned? She does not know me? Ah, it was my display of magic that had attracted her. But in a city full of mages, again why center on me? Capher thought.

She held up a hand and shook her head. "I am no peddler, merely a mage, as you are."

Capher's hand stopped in mid-air. He had already seen the suspicion in Terra and now after this declaration from Drustai, it was warranted, especially after whom they had battled. But, why would she announce herself? Capher thought, as he glanced at the staff Drustai rested against their table next to her. A Kayrrhem high elf and a mage. Capher's mind recalled he knew of the Kayrrhem.

The Kayrrhem were not Santharian elfs, they were from Nyblemar and had light elven blood flowing through their veins, which made their lifespans almost as long as his own. Capher knew that they usually kept to themselves, were exceptional smithers and created armour, weapons, and jewelry that most, if not all, especially Santharian's would pay dearly for, which explained the breastplate that covered Drustai's ample bosom. The Kayrrhem also fought Coor and the darkness He spread.

"I hope what that other human said did not hit you so hard as it seemed to? And I apologize if I seem abrupt in asking." She said.

Capher put his hand down, turned slightly to look at Drustai in her eyes. He needed to see her face and reactions. He chose his words carefully. "Lady Drustai I know of the Kayrrhem. They are a noble race of elfs from the continent of Nyblemar, however I also know that they are few and keep to themselves. To meet one so far from home and to discover that one is also a mage is very rare, rare indeed."

He paused to pop a grape into his mouth, chewed thoughtfully, swallowed and then continued. "Your concern for me is appreciated but not necessary," Now let's see what her reaction is? "If you do not mind I am going to assume somethings and if I am wrong, please tell me. You have decided to travel far from home, to leave your tribe and family. I laud you for your independence. Since you have told us you are a mage, may I ask what type of magic or magics disciplines you have studied or are studying and at what level you are?"



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Ílarolén'yliás (Drustai)
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Gray Elf, Kaýrrhem


« Reply #71 on: March 31, 2010, 10:48:40 PM »

"Lady Drustai I know of the Kayrrhem. They are a noble race of elfs from the continent of Nyblemar, however I also know that they are few and keep to themselves. To meet one so far from home and to discover that one is also a mage is very rare, rare indeed," Capher said.

His tone was diplomatic, and the words were clearly chosen carefully and with a delicate complexity of wording much like that of an Erpheronian dialect. Drustai knew the man was trying to win her over, just like she was trying to win him and his bodyguards over. His words were flattering, which meant they were not necessarily sincere, as few among humans would say such things so carefully. Diplomacy was a funny thing among humans, she had learned... for it often implied less sincerity, rather than more.

Of course, she was doing the same thing.

"Your concern for me is appreciated but not necessary. If you do not mind I am going to assume somethings and if I am wrong, please tell me. You have decided to travel far from home, to leave your tribe and family. I laud you for your independence. Since you have told us you are a mage, may I ask what type of magic or magics disciplines you have studied or are studying and at what level you are?"

Drustai sat back in her chair, resting her arms on the rests. She pursed her lips a moment, giving a slight pause before she answered his question. Her brow furrowed slightly, but she tempered herself. She had not left her tribe and family, they had been ripped from her. She had not chosen independence, it had been forced upon her.

She leaned forward slightly.

"I am trained in the magicks of my own people, but my more complete skills come in fact from this very institution," she sat back again, and flipped her hand to the side slightly. "I am a 7th Level Water Mage, with additional theoretical studies into Nybelmarian Blood and Krean Magicks and Thalambathian Arcanistry." By theoretical studies, she meant that she had some basic insight into those systems but lacked the practical means to utilize them--aside from the Thalambathian Scrolltome at her hip. She also, of course, had insight into Necromancy, at least as it applied to the Ximaxian principles, but that was certainly not something she was keen to mention.

The fact that he had asked her about her magical abilities showed her he knew exactly what she was after. She assumed the concern would be seen through, though she disliked speaking magic while surrounded by the man's bodyguards. She'd let him approach the topic of his own magic at his own pace, rather than rush itself. Her reply to his question would be enough, her own could come later.

She glanced sidelong at the various humans sitting around the man. Her body remained poised beneath her robes, though outwardly she smiled politely, and she brushed a few strands of norsidian hair behind her long ears.

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Roosje Greenfields
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Brownie, Llaoihrr


« Reply #72 on: April 02, 2010, 12:08:20 AM »

Roosje is not sure which way to turn first, so many things are happening at the same time. First there's this old man who comes and tells some tall tale, received on Roosje's end at least with quite a bit of scepticism. Seawolves and shrunken elves? A lot is possible in the world, of course, but she would have to see that to believe it.

But then there is also this elf woman asking after Capher, and Roosje is curious enough to want to follow that conversation as well. She walks back and forth on the table, dividing her attention between the old bearded man and the elfess - leading, of course, to her hearing only about half of both conversations. When Ta'las tells her she has a knack for meeting new people, she seizes the opportunity to focus on one thing only. She laughs at his assertion.

Nothing to do with me, honestly. He helped himself to his seat. But thanks for the compliment... I think. She answers with a wink.

She waits to hear what the bearded man will answer Ta'las, curious as well who they are actually dealing with. The elfess is forgotten - for now, anyway.
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Capher
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Dragon


« Reply #73 on: April 06, 2010, 04:50:15 AM »

Capher watched Drustai carefully and she did the same to himself, each one noting every little nuance of movement, of facial expression and eye movement. Capher saw her sit back, her arms resting on the arm rests of the chair. Then came the slight purse of her lips and the furrow of her brow, had he hit a nerve? in a blink they were gone and her face once more turned to its original state of calm composure. She leaned forward.

"I am trained in the magicks of my own people, but my more complete skills come in fact from this very institution," she sat back again, and flipped her hand to the side slightly. "I am a 7th Level Water Mage, with additional theoretical studies into Nybelmarian Blood and Krean Magicks and Thalambathian Arcanistry."

Capher's left eyebrow rose a little as he sat back. Her answer was straight forward with no sense of pride or arrogancy, as some would show if they had reached such a high level of magic. She had her own people's magic, as well as Ximanain training. She was highly intelligent by the words she used, Capher thought, but what was it that drew her to him? Certainly it could not have been his show of magic. She was a mage and a high level one at that. So what was it that drew her to him? Or was she drawn to whole group? Was her intentions for good or evil?

"Lady Drustai thank you for your honesty and forthrightness. May I introduce you to my friends? The handsome, young male sitting across from you is Ta'las, he is a Shendar guide. The redhaired woman dressed in white sitting next to him is Lady Terra, a Sophronian warrioress. The Brownie you see wandering around on top of our table is Roosjie, she speaks Tharian well and is a very fine linguist. The young blonde haired, blue eyed girl is Sondirra, a writer and the man who is sitting next to her I do not know and wonder why he is here," Capher stared at the man and catching Terra's attention, who was sitting closest to the stranger, with his eyes asked silently who this man was and why was he at their table?, "and," he continued, "There is one more in our party but she has retired to her room."

Capher waved at the table. "Please join us, there is plenty to go around, and while we eat we can each get to know one another," Capher said pleasantly.
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Sondirra Moryveen
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Human, Erpheronian


« Reply #74 on: April 07, 2010, 11:47:14 AM »

Sondirra watches with interest the conversation between this stranger, Drustai, and Capher.  Her observances are broken only by Swing sitting at the table, and speaking to both her and Ruby, then to the old wizard at the table.

She feels her cheeks redden.  "My meal was fine, Swing."  

She stares at him.  In truth, she can't stop from staring, except for glances at the woman who always seems next to him; his woman, Swing's woman, Terra.  The more she stares, the more her curiosity is getting the best of her.  The more her curiosity grows, the harder it is not to ask questions.  And the more she restrains herself from asking questions, the more she begins to fidget.

"Girl, you got ants in your pants?"

Sondirra can hear her mother's voice in her head, just as clearly as if the woman were here now.  Her mother always knew when she had questions because she just couldn't sit still.  It was her little quirk.  Finally, she can no longer keep it inside, otherwise she just knows she'll burst.  Or worse, wear a hole in the seat of her dress as her bottom slides about on the wooden seat.

"Why does Talia call you Swing?  Is it a nickname?  Are you a Prince?  Does Ahj Nivic mean brother in your language?  What is your language?  Can you say something in it?  Are you and Terra married?  Are you hunting evil mages?  Are you evil mages?  Ruby doesn't think so, but I've never met one, so I don't know.  Unless this guy is one," she indicates Gavril, "but I don't know who he is either.  He just kind of helped himself to our table.  Not that it is 'our' table.  It's yours, but I was invited, I guess."  She looks at the old man.  "Not that you aren't invited, I guess.  I'm not trying to rude at all."

She suddenly stops as her chest hurts and she finds herself sucking in a large breath; maybe the largest in her life.  Chagrined, she smiles sheepishly.  "Sorry.  I tend to ask a lot of questions.  I'm a writer, you see.  Or at least, I'm going to be a great writer someday."
« Last Edit: April 07, 2010, 11:50:46 AM by Sondirra Moryveen » Logged

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