It swept slickened strands away
from its face and wiped its bloodied hand across its scarred, pale torso-
defining it as now male -
leaving a hand print and a smear across itself. He expelled a heavy breath that
rose into a plume of moistened air. With a rough clearing of its throat, it
"Cór'jeín 'artanhé, móh'styrás..."
She widened her eyes- she had not expected it to say a word.
And realized - it was an Eophyrhim.
Viresse jumped awake, and bumped
her head against one of the burlap-wrapped parcels she had leaned against in her
sleep. She rolled her eyes and set a hand upon her head, and felt the beginning
of a lump. "Kack," she said.
Well. She hadn't ever needed to use that word before. She sat up, and yawned.
She wasn't jarred by any movement like she expected -
and noticed that the wagon wasn't moving. Viresse stopped moving and listened
quietly, trying to pick up exactly what was going on.
There was a battle of words from the front of the wagon. She recognized Rube's
voice, but there was another she didn't recognize, and the tone was not that of
civil conversation. She looked out at the landscape
before her - they were away from the city and a few
hours had passed, for the sun was in a different position. She slowly turned her
head, and heard a bit clearer, and could see Rube standing very straight as he
was being spoken to. He looked toward the wagon, and pointed. Much to Viresse's
surprise, Rube caught a hammy fist to the gut, and he stumbled backward,
clutching his belly.
Viresse sneered and struggled to stand, making a decent amount of racket in
doing so. The axles heaved and squeaked, and a couple of the burlap-wrapped
packages tottered on the wood bed, creating a hollow, drum-like rattle. She
quickly slipped her hand into her cloak and unsheathed her dagger, and sprung up
onto the seat of the wagon.
As she eyed the two men - the fatty one that had
seemed to punch Rube, and another, a wirey one Viresse hadn't seen due to her
angle - looked up at her. She wore a wicked grimace on
her face out of training, and quickly snapped to the
men in Tharian, although roughly.
"What do you do there to my companion!? You fight him,
You fight me!"
She threateningly brandished her dagger, being sure to let the light from the
sun glint across their eyes to show she was armed. " Let us be at it!"
The thin man balked at the sight of her, his jaw dropping. "S' a Drow!" He
gasped, and looked to the rotund hammerfisted one. "It could be a
The fat one darted his eyes from Viresse to his companion "S' not a Hound!
Hounds travel in packs!" He snapped at the thin one, and threw a threatening
fist in Viresse's direction. " I don' care what she is,
she canna' take two of us at
"Oi! She's a waif!" The slender one noted and started toward her.
The fat one chuckled menacingly and began to take a step
- and got a booted foot to the side of the head. He had let his eyes
leave Rube, who recovered quicker than expected. The fat man released a frothy
spray of blood from his mouth, and staggered a few steps before realizing what
had struck him. He turned to Rube, and was greeted with a fist to the jaw, and a
second with Rube's opposing hand. The fat man reeled and dropped to his knees
- Rube took the chance to wrap an arm around the man's neck
- his forearm pressing against the windpipe, in
an attempt to make the large attacker unconscious and
unable to fight.
Viresse did the mistake of watching Rube's fighting prowess
- a mistake she didn't realize until the thinner man had a tenacious grip
around her slim, booted ankle.
"I'm terribly sorry, sweetheart, but Lubo and I got a
heavy eye on this here wagon. And
if you don't mind too much, we'd like to borrow it for some time.
We'd appreciate it if you didn't put up too much of a
fight! " The slim man seemed to hiss like a snake as he spoke.
Viresse kicked in an attempt to release his hold, but the thin man had a good
hold and pulled in the direction of her kicking,
causing her to lose her balance. Viresse fell to her rear on the wagon's seat
- far closer to the agressor than she had wanted to be. He reached for
her throat with his grasping, claw-like hands, and Viresse only thought of
thrusting her hand in his face and letting her nimble drow fingers do the work.
She dug the heel of her hand vehemently into the chin of the
"Oh, come on now, darlin' ! It doesn't have to be like this! We'll even just
take the stuff in the wagon and leave you and your
boyfriend alone! We don't mean to be a burden!" His
hissing continued as she dug her fingers into his flesh,
the way he spoke mocked her in all the ways that irked her.
But her fingers slipped on the frothing spittle of the lanky attacker, who had
spoken sugar-coated phrases the entire time her hand was on his face. She slid
forward, directly into the grip of his hands. He grasped tightly around her neck
and a wicked, bloodthirsty grimace crossed his face.
"There ya go - just give in-" He hissed, but quickly
paused. The grimace lasted only a second as Viresse smiled cruelly back at her
attacker with no visible strain upon her face, and stabbed her attacker in the
left side of his unguarded torso with the dagger she had never lost grip of. He
gasped and let her go, revealing Viresse's Coórrhem
metal collar adorned with filigree. She brashly placed her booted foot on his
shoulder and pushed him backward away from the wagon.
"No," she stated simply.
Viresse then looked at her blood coated knife and wiped it on the sleeve of her
cloak. She slipped the dagger back in its sheath, and looked to Rube, who had
just laid down the large man, who had finally fallen unconscious.
Rube heaved as he bent over the sleeping man and set his hands on his knees,
gasping for air. After a few steady breaths, he looked up to Viresse, who seemed
to sit calmly on the front seat of the wagon. He eyed her curiously.
"That was easy," he gasped,
a smile splayed across his handsome face.
"When you're prepared, it is," she
quipped. Viresse laced her fingers and set them in her
lap, looking as if she had just finished reading a book.
Rube stood up straight. " You are telling me you were ready?"
Viresse smirked, unlaced her fingers and tapped one finger on her metal collar.
"I have worn this every day of my life. I've been threatened with death every
day that I live... I had a dream just now - of death."
She ducked her head and smiled cruelly. "I was born ready."
Rube set his hands on his hips and looked around, a sarcastically exasperated
look on his face. He gave a soundless laugh. "You really need to stop with that
whole scary-drow thing. It's
not going to garner any respect from me." He began walking toward the wagon. "
It's not even all that impressive. Or attractive."
Viresse looked at him indignantly. " Well, Rube. I'm sorry if I don't impress
you. What I am is what I am." She crossed her arms and
got huffy, as she had earlier.
"But-" Rube grunted as he pulled himself into the driver's seat of the wagon
"That's not who you are... and you know it. So stop trying with me. You keep it
up and I'm only going to be more of a horse's ass."
Viresse slipped out of her huffy mood and eyed Rube curiously. Was she that
unschooled in the natural ways of her drowish
heritage? In all honesty, she did not like the fighting, but the strength of her
appearance upon humans had given her a shield to hide
behind if things got rough. She was not a
fighter. That was why she had left the Coórhem. But
was it so beyond her to be drow that she could only
falsely portray it?
Rube clicked his tongue and the horses moved on. He
had to raise his voice when he spoke to Viresse again, which made his statements
sound less heartfelt than they were meant to be. "You're actually more
frightening than I let on - I'm just not all that
scared of you." He looked to Viresse for a moment and glanced her over." I don't
know a single person who can instill fear in highway robbers like you did
- by just existing."
Viresse brushed a few stray strands of hair away from her face. "So, I make a
good drow, then?" She blinked in the bright sunlight and waited for an answer.
Rube again glanced over at Viresse and smiled, a kind confident smile like he
had shown when they first exchanged greetings. "For those that don't know you,
yea." He glanced back at the road for a second, then looked back at Viresse. "
Drogo told me all about you - it was kind of... for
lack of a better word, cute that you wanted to
hide from me." He glanced back toward the road.
Viresse let out an annoyed sigh and looked out at the King's Hollow, that they
headed toward. "That Drogo... he'll get his!" She rolled her eyes. She then
thought for a moment, her pale brown knitted in thought. She looked back at
Rube. " I looked 'cute' ?"
Rube chuckled. "For an elf you're quite
human..." he noted. "You weren't cute, what you did
was. You wanted to impress me
- with your personality before my pre-conceived
notions of dark elves...
It's good to know someone cares about what you think." He glanced over. "No one
cares about the laymen, you know."
Viresse rolled her eyes, then attempted to defend her actions. "I was going to
be stuck with you for three days. I wanted you to get a good first impression."
"Is 'Whiny Drow Bitch' your idea of a good first impression?"
"Has your impression of me now changed since our little Ruffian party?" Viresse
asked as she smiled playfully.
"Maybe. Now you're 'Semi-Creepy Whiny Drow Bitch with a knife'.
Is that better?"
Viresse cocked a brow. " Maybe."