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Author Topic: Wison's Breath Inn  (Read 3162 times)
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Nelique A’drosa
Crestfallen Heiress
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Human ~ Anpagan


« Reply #150 on: January 18, 2008, 06:05:23 AM »

A tinge of revulsion remained steadfast upon the heiress’s supple visage as she turned a petite head away from the horribly wounded man. Chocolate tresses shimmered with vigorous radiance in the scintillating hearth-light as she poised her shoulder away from the scene. Even in the beaming warmth of the flames, Neli felt chilled, struggling with every speck of her will to fend off the nausea washing over her. Never in Nelique’s life had she been caught in such a barbaric display, men screaming, sanguine showings coupled with disdainful words uttered at her. The taverns homey interior had faded in a cloud of appalling revelations. She was surrounded by filth and the guardsman had led her to this place!

Thankfully a servant hurriedly arrived to aid Nelique with her needs; at least the brutish woman realized her position. A delicate hand lifted to sweep a few stray locks from sea green eyes, the heiress’s gaze focusing upon the serving girl’s rustic features. “Yes please ma’am, a glass of warm water and a red wine I implore you.” Even now flashes of blood flittered upon the edges of her consciousness. The back of a fragile hand brushed soothingly over the Anpagan’s forehead before coming to rest on the cool stony surface of the table. It was a meager endeavor to steady wobbly legs in the aftermath of the vulgar events that had been haphazardly wrought in her presence.

True the young maiden’s complexion was light but the travesties unfolding around her had altered that hue a few shades closer to pallid. Almond shaped eyes began to search about for Brysa, displaying an abundant effort to avoid the working of the nearby healers. One tiny hand rose to be used as a veil, obscuring any of the happenings taking place at the brothers table. The harsh words from Altario became murky behind a ghastly throbbing that started to devour the heiress’s senses. With little consideration to the carcass being used as furniture Nelique plummeted into the depths of a chair. An excruciating flash of pain shot through her mind, causing lush eyelids to fall tightly over alluring orbs.
Logged

¤••• Rarely do great beauty and great virtue dwell together. •••¤ Quote: Nelique A'drosa
Khel
Unbound Rogue
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Human, Eyelian


« Reply #151 on: January 18, 2008, 07:13:29 AM »

Listening as he spoke to the pretty waitress, Khel looked at the man. He obviously knew what to eat, and Khel hadn’t heard of any of it. Without knowledge of a food, she would have to trust his judgment. Trust him… hah. Khel’s dark eyes watched as the waitress nodded and walked away. She tried to keep her mind focused on Rellech and the business they needed to attend to, but it was a tad bit difficult with the apparent disagreement nearby. Two men bellowed at each other and Khel wondered if the argument would become physical. The two were obviously soldiers, very Remusian, and equally hot headed. Possibly brothers. Knowing it was none of her business, but without helping her inquisitive nature, Khel listened for a moment. A third man was pulled into it, which seemed to have disregarded his post. A pity, Khel thought, that he would be punished for helping a citizen arrive safely.

The antagonizer of the brother and the guard must be having a bad day, and Khel turned her attention away. Others had entered the Inn as well. An elf, a women and her hand maiden, another man who may very well be a merchant as well. Looking over each briefly, Khel made mental note of each. This was the perfect place to be! Why didn’t Rellech regard it as so? Thankful for a moment that the man had thought to procure her lodging here, Khel’s thankfulness quickly faded to disgust has the noble opened his mouth again. For a moment she thought he was nearly human, that grin and miniscule joke he made almost brought him onto an approachable level. However, he quickly and skillfully (almost purposefully) stifled that thought.

Rellech obviously did not approve of the boy sitting with them. Narrowing her eyes, Khel looked at the boy again briefly. She didn’t understand this uppity man. Not at all. The brief moments during which his words struck a positive tone within her mind--mainly the part about procuring contacts for export--but otherwise his words stung deep. Not in hurting her, but in encouraging her boiling temper. Keep the boy.. keep? As if he was some sort of, well, Rellech said it first.. a dog. So, the man obviously did not want to actually carry conversation with her. Complimenting him did not get her one step further. If he was going to allow her to act as she wished, Khel would much rather speak her mind than pretend to be anything else.

Looking hard at him, Khel could only stare as the waitress brought the soup and the brandy. What was he playing at? Eying the soup, Khel took a small slurp of the hot liquid and felt its warmth down to her booted toes. Taking a couple slower, intentional spoonfuls, the hot soup cooled her temper considerably. It was surprisingly good, and Khel was at least grateful she’d allowed Rellech to order. The man disgusted her entirely, however, and she would bite her tongue before voicing her opinion regarding his choice in food. Later, she would pay her compliments to the cook. Taking a gulp of the water placed before her, Khel opted not to touch the brandy, regardless of the man’s attempt at spite in ordering the water “for the lady”. She’d much rather keep her head clear while they interacted… later she could settle with a few ales. She thought she might even enjoy a jaunt out into the Wastes rather than sit here all night with Rellech.

”First of all, My Lord, I implore you to keep the boy. It is my fault, not his, he sits with us. Regardless, I have no use for any servants.” Khel began, and her voice gave no option for argument. He would keep Juhlihan without question, or the boy would be put on the streets. She would have liked to continue explaining how she was quite capable of doing most tasks on her own, but stopped herself short for business’ sake. ”On the subject of contacts, however, I will gladly speak. I will not only think for myself, but be sure you also know who the contacts are and where the goods will end up. It’s not like me to keep information from… partners. Perhaps you will speak with them in the future, anyway.” Khel hesitated at the word “partner”, its implication sitting like bile in her throat. Pausing for another spoonful of soup, Khel  brought her mind again to business and thought on her options. She’d been around in the South enough to know the major port cities. Carmalad, to be sure, although it was a bit of a sail to make it there in a timely manner. The distances to Milkengrad and especially Marcogg concerned her as well, but Khel had to force herself into a different mindset. She was, no matter where the ship would first dock, very far from the land she knew. Far from anything familiar.

Thinking hard, Khel considered several other ports before asking a question which could matter to the situation more than Rellech may have considered. After all, he didn’t know the South, which is why he needed her help in the first place. Her mind continued to work. A port near Ximax, from what Khel gathered of the Remusian views on magic, would not be wise at all. Naurooth, of course, was smaller and definitely more Northern, and it had a port. It may not provide the trade Rellech desired though, considering they had ample amounts of furs and hides here already. Furrowing her brow, her silence might be seen as weakness, but her intelligent mind turned over and over very quickly. ”I know quite a few places in which I have contacts, Rellech. What I may need is more of an idea of what exports will be, and what you’d like to see imported.” Knowing her question would seem stupid to the man, Khel didn’t care. She wanted the information, and to keep him on a subject that did not require any thoughts or morality. She could have attempted to impress the nobleman, rattling off cities, ports, and resources near each as she saw fit. Perhaps that would have been a better route, but something told Khel he would be far from impressed no matter how much information she could provide, and kept her mouth shut.
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..tell me your heart doesn't race for a hurricane or a burning building. -asw
Your pal, Khel
Vallari O'Neil
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Human, Caltharian


« Reply #152 on: January 18, 2008, 01:59:25 PM »

Activity seemed to have just bloomed around her. Bustling. Hustling. Loud conversations. Hushed voices that collectively surged in waves. She hadn't heard anything that had been said to her, no, not for a while now. The world had rocked out of focus and she had forgotten what she was talking about and who she was talking to, daydreaming for a good bit of time before she realized that there were two women sitting with her which she was supposed to be talking to. Daydreaming in the midst of a conversation was rude, wasn't it? Probably. The young, disarrayed woman had asked a question and before it had been answered Simonne had spoken up. The woman she had drawn not long ago who's picture didn't whisper the ways of the world to her as she had hoped. Was it too much to hope for an epiphany every once in a great while when she sketched someone's portrait? ... Perhaps it was. Too bad, too. If her drawings did speak to her then she supposed she'd know a lot more about the world and people than she did now. Too bad, too bad.

There was a scene unfolding not far from their table. Dramatic in volume and hand gestures, her eyes were torn away from the strikingly beautiful business woman before her to focus on the loud argument at hand. It was almost as though, as the two men's voices escalated, everyone else's conversations dropped or lowered in volume as to not interrupt the spectacle. Calloused fingertips darted up to the young artist's mouth, tracing her lips thoughtfully with her fingertips as her eyes moved from one man to the other. The way that they were arguing and the similarities in their features, one would think that they were brothers. And if not brothers, then at least related. Oh, it'd make a lovely scene, the two of them fighting, and she already had their proportions and facial features stamped into her head by their notably loud entrance into her life, if not only for a little while.

There were so many scenes. So many moments in between the two that would make for a lovely picture- that, she couldn't deny. And being unable to do such, she pulled her ridiculously thick sketch book back out of her pack along with her box of charcoal sticks. She forgot for the moment about Simonne and Naera, suddenly preoccupied with the decision to draw the moment unfolding. Hoisting her pack up onto the table, she climbed up onto it as well and sat with her legs crossed in the middle of the table, her large book open to a blank page and resting in her lap. Thin fingers opened the small box, once again revealing the cloth-wrapped charcoal sticks before picking one of the thinner ones and lightly pressing the tip to the paper. Off to the side she did a quick experimental sketch of either of the men's facial features before laying out the scene. A lot had happened between the time she produced her book and the time she began to draw the actual picture. The elderly healer had left the table, cane and bag in hand, and was moving across the room towards the younger man who was... injured? And a simply elegant beauty was looking rather ill on the other side of the older man whom was, at the moment, calling for a healer.

Events seemed to move so quickly, but she imprinted that moment into her head- Simonne moving towards them, the injured man touching his bloody side, the concerned brother? calling for a healer, the ill looking beauty on the other side of him. She set about to copying it to the page from her mind, though making the scene much more dramatic than it actually was. Darkening the areas around them a bit more than was necessary and, perhaps, even exaggerating the amount of blood. Just perhaps. Okay.. so she did... but it made for a good dramatic effect. The moment was captured, just like that. A bit more menacingly gloomy than it actually was, but it was how she was seeing it at the moment and that was how it would be laid out on the page. Every so often her vivid gaze would flick up momentarily, refreshing her memory of their facial features and of the such, though she didn't really need it. It was her gift. Photographic memory. And the little woman imagined that she looked rather silly, sitting on a table and drawing vigorously, her hand flying across the page almost recklessly. She kept her hand up, fingers clutching the charcoal stick firmly and refraining from dragging her hand across the page. So much effort and work put into the picture, she didn't need to ruin it by smudging it with her hand.
« Last Edit: January 18, 2008, 02:20:16 PM by Vallari O'Neil » Logged

My pale baby
Pink, soft fleshy lips
Milky white mortal skin
Blue fire underneath your brow
Your echo keeping true


...\\CD//...
Eléyr Fásamár
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Elf, Kaýrr'hem


« Reply #153 on: January 19, 2008, 06:52:39 AM »

When Eléyr had entered the tavern, the splendor of the place had seemed rapturous. Now the bony frame of his chair was jutting into his back. He wondered if the aesthetics of the building were simply a facade to hide the primitive ways of the northmen. The atmosphere had quickly shifted from radiating cheer and warmth, to petty arguments. This then escalating to a foolish soldier reopening his wounds. Eyasha wants us to be peaceful. This is a perfect example of the consequences She wishes for us to avoid. Eléyr did not mind healing victims of tragic accidents, or those who were simply rather stressed, but the one thing he could not stand was injuries caused by war and fighting. Besides, the man's already got two healers on him. I wouldn't want to steal the job from them.

Eléyr once again found his eyes straying to the beautiful burnette. She was staring icily at the elder brother, green eyes piercing his back with unmasked intensity. At least I am not the only civilized one here. Her pale skin had a slightly yellowish tint to it. It was quite apparent she was not accustomed to dealing with such loathsome behavior. I was right. Even her mind is beautiful. A fountain of knowledge came from the woman. Literate thoughts flowed about Eléyr's head. Then the flow of intelligence was blocked off, as if a dam had been placed over the stream of philosophy. As her thoughts became hazy, the Mindsmoother lost interest. Oh the poor thing. Such an intelligent mind, temporarily ruined by the fog of scorn. Perhaps Eyasha won't mind if I simply admire this maiden from afar. Besides she is so young. And I, even in my equivalent human years, am her elder by much.

He had been so absorbed in observing the maiden, he had not notice the maid approach him. Looking up from his table he saw a pretty face framed by gleaming golden locks. Her clear blue eyes glittered as she inquired about Eléyr. He noticed her looking admirably at Trinity, and smiled. Why she has such a lovely accent. "Yes, I would love a glass of water if you don't mind. I don't drink alcohol," he put in quickly."I will also be staying in one of your rooms. I do hope they are as extravagant as this lovely hall," he said once again admiring the room about him. Though the maiden had been awfully cheery, there seemed to be something distracting her. Then he noticed her frequent glances at the brothers. Concern flashed on her face as she saw the gore from the younger. I see. Little love birds. He chuckled softly to himself, than realizing how hypocritical that was. As his eyes once again landed on the wealthy maiden, he almost blushed a little. I do believe I've got a tad bit of a crush myself.
« Last Edit: January 20, 2008, 09:28:50 PM by Eléyr Fásamár » Logged

"You are my servant. You are my love. You are my peace. You are mine." ~ Eyasha speaks in a dream to Eléyr Fásamár
Laoise Tyrani
Venomous Enchantress
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Human, Helcrani


« Reply #154 on: January 19, 2008, 01:07:38 PM »

The repetition of the name seemed unnecessary to Laoise, almost as if the woman in front of her was questioning its use, rolling it across her tongue to see if it fit its supposed owner.  The mage replied to the scruffy girl’s smile by pushing the sides of her mouth upwards too.  Her large almond eyes couldn’t help switching from her face to her fidgeting hands, one of which was covered in some kind of cloth bandage.  So this artist was as clumsy as she looked then?  And called “Vee” apparently.  Laoise idly wondered if this was her real name at all, or if the woman was simply lying like herself.  “Simply wandering around and whatnot” was simply the lamest reason ever for travelling so far.  Did this stranger have something to run from as well?  Laoise took another quick scan of her face, holding it in her mind for future reference.

Silence fell among the three of them, a silence Laoise did not particularly feel obliged to fill.  Fortunately the artist decided to speak once more: “" 'ho's will?" The question was sudden, enhanced by what Laoise considered a very piercing look.  Hmpf.  Not as scatter-brained as she seemed then.  "What's their name, I mean? If you don' mind me asking?... Curious, is all."  Curiosity killed the cat, Laoise felt like answering, but thought it was probably a little aggressive this early on in the conversation.  However, before she could focus her wandering thoughts on her lips long enough to flitter out some suitable reply, the other woman whose cane she had retrieved answered her previous question.  "I'm here to see if these Remusians have certain healing procedures or special herbs perhaps that I do not yet know of. You see, I'm a herbalist."  Normally such a statement would have led to a convienent wealth of conversational topics, all farther and farther away from the delicate topic of Laoise herself, but the woman turned away, obviously looking for some food.

Instead she was forced to turn back to the inquisitive Vee.  Her reply was casual, accompanied by an extra wave of her carefully-manicured hand.  “Unfortunately I can’t tell you, people don’t really like these things to get out; suddenly greedy relatives and all.”  She returned the piercing look of a moment ago.  “Why, are you here to visit someone?”  However, the intensity of her glance was somewhat ruined by the waitress the older lady had now managed to flag down.  As the pretty blonde girl reached their table, Laoise thought it would be a good time for her to order too, and smoothly requested a meat stew and a large glass of wine.  Maybe the alcohol would help her sleep a bit later. Vee did not answer the mage’s question, staring strangely into space, obviously deep in some thought or another.  It was vaguely amusing to watch the strange like that, be able to observe someone you barely knew without them observing you back.  But what was so pressing on the woman’s mind that she should dream so?  Laoise’s paranoid brain once more supplied several answers.

Like the women beside her, Laoise was a little startled by the fight which suddenly broke out beside her, but then she had been in a few worse places than this on her recent run from Ximax.  As long as the two seemed intent on arguing with each other and not spreading their anger around in her direction, she was not particularly frightened.  But then the other two didn’t seem so either.  The healer suddenly rushed off, leaving her half-eaten meal alone on the table, and Vee stared at the two in what looked like fascination.  Laoise sat back and ate her food with a slow, savouring enjoyment, watching as the two men began to involve another couple who had just arrived.  The lady, and Laoise was in no doubt about calling her a lady, was rather elegantly dressed and seemed quite shocked at the men’s loud voices beside her.  The mage tried not to stare too much, but she noticed her eyes were not the only ones gazing in that direction.  A slender, elegant elf sat lazing by the fire, his or her (Laoise still found it hard to tell the difference from a distance) face turning occasionally towards the dark-haired female.

Suddenly the obviously-crazy artist picked up her things and hoisted her petite self up onto the table itself.  Seeing the movement as it happened, Laoise just managed to grab her dish and wine glass, spilling only a little of the precious food on the wooden surface.  A few seconds passed and the mage was unable to speak, waiting for an apology she didn’t get.  Shock passed anger by and turned to wonderment as the strange girl began to scribble away furiously at one of her pieces of parchment.  She watched Vee for a few seconds, wondering what made one so totally engrossed in something that one would risk looking so strange for it.  Still, there was something fascinating in the energetic care of the woman, the utter dedication to the paper.  The mage found herself unwilling to disturb the process, wanting to see what it brought at the end without risking the product.  Laoise had never had the patience for the drawing classes of her youth, but this didn’t look like patience, more as if she was actually arguing with the paper in an effort to make it say what she wanted.
« Last Edit: January 19, 2008, 01:46:18 PM by Laoise Tyrani » Logged

Denrykmar Shialt-eck-Gorrin
Wandering Ranger
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Human, Remusian


« Reply #155 on: January 20, 2008, 06:17:45 AM »

Denrykmar watched the old woman approach.  She proclaimed herself a healer, but it did little to lessen the nervousness he felt at looking at her.  What kind of healer could she be?  Was she a witch?  And the impudent look she cast him, made him think that she felt herself a bit superior to him in someway.

A twinge of pain, and a slight dizzy spell made him remember how badly he was bleeding.  Witch or no, he needed something done.  He made his way to his chair and sat, using his hand to beckon the old woman nearer him.  "Look, if it pleases you.  Though I'm not sure what it is you hope to do.  We have a physician, and he has already seen to it.  A lot of good that did." 

Denrykmar used his hands to spread apart the bandages, allowing the old woman the opportunity to look closer at his wound.  "A warg managed to scratch me, while trying to make a meal of me.  He damned near succeeded."

He tried to paint a picture of bravado, but within, he felt his heart begin to beat faster, and a fear began to grow within.  He was bleeding a lot, more so now even than when he had first been wounded.  This was not good.  He wasn't scared to die, just scared to die insipidly.  He wanted, no needed, a hero's death.  Kor'och demanded nothing less from the faithful.  And being Remusian dictated that as well.  Remusians were not supposed to die as old men.  He was not supposed to die an old man.

Or from a scratch.  Had the warg eaten him, then that would have been fine.  But not bleeding in a tavern.
« Last Edit: January 20, 2008, 06:27:04 AM by Denrykmar Shialt-eck-Gorrin » Logged
Altario Shialt-eck-Gorrin
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« Reply #156 on: January 22, 2008, 12:32:56 AM »

Altario watched as the old woman offered to help Denrykmar, and was about to object when his brother sat and accepted the offer.  Altario bit his tongue.  To object now would be to look petty and argumentative, though a part of him was convinced Denrykmar had accepted her help if nothing more than to spite him.  At least it was help, though he wondered exactly what the old woman could do besides add new bandages.  Altario faced the young guard who still stood by, an unsure look upon his face.  "On your way to your post, send the doctor."  Altario motioned to the door with his hand.

He then faced the young woman who had garnered his ire a few moments earlier.  Her words now registered in his mind, words he had ignored while trying to help his brother.  She was young, very young, and pretty.  Too pretty in his opinion.  Too rich, too pretty, too damn arrogant.  Wherever she had come from, it was obvious that she both knew nothing of Remusian society and her place in it.  It was no surprise.  She dressed like a noble.  A rich one.  It rubbed him wrong that the white cloak she wore would be something Riztalyanna would have loved, and looked good in.  But, then Riz would not have looked so spoiled in it.  She was Remusian, she knew hardship and pain.  This child would not have.  And in truth, white was the colour of the king.  It rubbed him against the grain to have an outsider wear it.

No, this young woman had lived a life of luxury, and he doubted she had ever had anything denied to her.  She would not have worked a day in her life, for that would have fallen to the hand matron behind her.  It was no wonder she had no inkling of duty and honour.  But if she were to stay here, in this city, she would learn.  That he vowed to himself.

He whirled about to face her and stepped closer.  "Duty is what honourable men do without complaint.  Honour keeps men above animals.  Duty is found in honour, and honour in duty.  If you were a man, you would know that.  If you were Remusian, it would have been born within you.  As you are neither, you might consider keeping your ideas to yourself, Missy.  This is not a city where you can just come prancing in, wearing your expensive dresses, and order us about at your leisure.  This is a hard city, filled with hard and honourable people.  It is about to become more so before this night is over.  So, if you came here to prance about exploring and sightseeing, then you made a big mistake and this city holds nothing for you."
« Last Edit: January 25, 2008, 08:31:33 AM by Altario Shialt-eck-Gorrin » Logged

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My Character can be viewed @Angelina Jolie's house.  But knock first, in case I'm in my underwear.
Nelique A’drosa
Crestfallen Heiress
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Human ~ Anpagan


« Reply #157 on: January 22, 2008, 02:32:27 AM »

Through a clouded mind the young maiden slipped a nimble hand under her downy white cloak. Agile digits opening one of the pouches attached to the golden chain upon her supple waist. True that waiting for water would have been a more pleasant way to perform her next action, but she was already on the verge of becoming violently ill. With due haste a tiny hand lifted two pills from the satchel and brought them swiftly over her crimson lips. It took the heiress a few blinks to compel the dry tablets down her already parched throat. Almond shaped eyes still clenched tightly, in an endeavor to block any light from accessing her sea green orbs.

Nelique had utterly missed the arrival of Altario in her haste to address more pressing matters. Evidently his rage had not subsided, not much anyhow, as harsh words began to rain down upon her again. Normally Neli would have cast him off with coy words and an offer to buy him a drink, which it appears that he had already had his fill of. Instead the heiress rose up forcing sea green eyes to focus upon the barbarian; tears of pain were perched upon eloquent eyelashes like fresh dew upon the petals of a spring flower. Gingerly petite hands grasped the edge of the table, forcing her lithe form to remain steady in the forthcoming onslaught of Altario’s inconsiderate words.

The Remusian had arrived far earlier than Nelique could have hoped for her medicines to have any effect. This caused the heiress to speak out through pain more-so than anger, nevertheless the words dripped with contempt as they flowed over the maiden’s supple lips. “Duty is what calls a man to his station Milord, honor is what holds him there when all else seems lost! IF I were Remusian at least I would have the wisdom to know the difference!” Realizing that she was hollering at the man, the Anpagan sighed gently, small shoulders dropped a notch as she regained her composure. With nonchalant grace she lifted a miniscule hand to rub her temple delicately.

The pain that had infused her mind with such wrath at the Remusian’s advance had begun to collapse ever so faintly. With a more even tone the heiress continued her repartee at the elderly man. “My name is not Missy, it is Nelique, Nelique A’drosa. You shall use it when addressing me further Sir. I did not come to your city with the intent of wearing pretty dresses to please your eye. I came here to help you kill your enemies.” Had Neli been under total control she would never have continued with this line of conversation. But her headache and this mans constant berating had the young lady on her last nerve.

The heiress’s hands flexed tightly upon the stony surface of the table as sea green eyes lifted to meet the Remusian’s nor’sidian gaze. “A ship filled to the brim with the finest dwarven steel, truest arrows crafted by the hands of elven archers and slabs of marble to reinforce weakened walls are the things I have brought.” The maiden’s eye swirled with an inner maelstrom as the tone of her melodious voice took on renewed strength. “If you consider my desire to see your victory as sightseeing, then I agree with at least one of your statements.” In some ways Neli was thankful for the stony table separating them but her gaze went unwavering as she stared at the Remusian.   
« Last Edit: January 22, 2008, 02:39:33 AM by Nelique A’drosa » Logged

¤••• Rarely do great beauty and great virtue dwell together. •••¤ Quote: Nelique A'drosa
Altario Shialt-eck-Gorrin
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Human, Remusian


« Reply #158 on: January 22, 2008, 03:11:36 AM »

For a split blink, Altario felt a twinge of remorse at his words upon seeing tears held only at bay by the long lashes that adorned her luminous eyes.  But that was only until she opened her mouth.  He was taken aback at the fact that she was actually yelling at him.  At him!  A Remusian warrior.  The commander of the Remusian Cavalry.  What nerve!

As he stood there, his mind coming to grips with the depth of her gall, she continued on, her voice lowered now, as if she had gained control of her senses.  That was something at least.  He listened to her name.  A'drosa.  He couldn't place it.  Not that it mattered where she was from, she was here now, and had better learn her place.

Finally, a knowing look spread over his face.  Ah yes, the truth comes out.  "So, you are a merchant.  And not just a merchant, but a merchant who comes baring arms.  I take it then, Miss A'drosa, that you have come to make your fortune in gold off of Remusian blood?"  He smiled humorlessly, and turned slightly, magnanimously holding out his hand toward Denrykmar.  "As you can see, we have no shortage of that.  And there will be much more before too long.  I'm sure you will go home a very rich woman."  He faced her once more.  "Dwarven steel?  Elven arrows?  You think Remusian's need such things?  You think us incapable of creating our own defenses?  We have done so for a millenia before you arrived."

Somewhere inside him, a voice was trying to speak up over the loud roar of his anger.  In truth, they could use the items.  The orc army coming for the city had caught them unprepared to be honest.  It was a battle within.  His Remusian heart, in truth his male pride, with his Military mind.  Instead of berating her, he should be procuring these supplies, and get them into the hands of them who would soon be dieing in defense of the city.  But, wisdom came with age, and Altario Shialt-eck-Gorrin was still a young man.
« Last Edit: January 22, 2008, 03:15:34 AM by Altario Shialt-eck-Gorrin » Logged

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"It was a dark and stormy night."  - Snoopy
"Ack!" - Bill the Cat
"I did not have sex with that woman, Monica Lewinski." - President Bill Clinton

My Character can be viewed @Angelina Jolie's house.  But knock first, in case I'm in my underwear.
Nelique A’drosa
Crestfallen Heiress
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Gender: Female
Posts: 259


Human ~ Anpagan


« Reply #159 on: January 23, 2008, 09:26:15 AM »

Sea green eyes sparkled with mischief as the Remusian seemed somehow harmed by her piercing words. In that moment she knew any utterance from the barbarian would be riddled with holes. His distain and irritation were almost palatable, causing a beaming grin to manifest upon the heiress’s supple lips. Pearly white teeth glimmered with feral intensity within the flickering flames of the hearth. Neli knew she had won long before the man spoke in his condescending tone. Evidently the man perceived himself as somewhat important, though he carried very little in the ways of a diplomat.

A smug look nearly brought Nelique to giggle in the man’s face, with effort crimson lips parted a bit further into a beaming grin. With nonchalance tiny digits began to unbutton the voluptuous cloak, letting it slide down supple arms to respite upon the chair behind her. Casually a fragile hand lifted to brush a few stray locks too rest behind a pallid ear. Dark tresses accentuated like waves of mysterious splendor in the quaint firelight. Almond shaped eyes never faltered under the harsh barrage of the Remusian’s words, merely glittering with resolute determination. To show the man weakness would only lend his words credence, something the heiress was never going to let happen.

The throbbing pain within her mind forcibly sat aside as Nelique addressed the arrogant warrior with a melodic even tone. “You name me a merchant seeking a fortune from the deaths of your people.” At last the giggle could be restrained no longer as tiny digits rose to obscure her spriteful smile. “If I were a merchant as you say, I would sell my wares to the orcs for the abundant amount of slaves they would assuredly possess in the end. A lot more profit could be garnered under those circumstances than throwing my lot in with a bunch of unthankful heathens.” Neli’s eyes flared deeply as she took an unyielding step about the edge of the table, closing the distance between them by nearly a Ped.

Under the twinkling sounds of tiny bells the heiress continued her intended chastisement of the man. “Do I doubt the valor of your people?” Sea green eyes adverted ever so slightly away from the Remusian’s metallic gaze. “No Sir, I do not!” The words tinged with a stanch adamancy. “I have risked my own life and those of my friends to travel across the oceans to aid your people and if you find that self-centered in anyway. Then no wonder your tribe stands alone.” Neli uttered the last of her words with a sense of resounding despair. She knew the game well and it was to make the man think she cared.

Brysa arrived only a blink after the heiress had finished, with a goblet filled with steaming hot water. The hand maiden placed the drink upon the stony table next to Nelique as the Anpagan turned a petite shoulder towards the heathen. Sniffling audibly the young maiden feigned the wiping of a tear from her lush eyelashes. The other frail hand fell to her supple waistline retrieving a packet, which Neli quickly poured into the goblet before her. Cradling the drink gingerly in both hands she lifted it towards supple lips, sipping the contents ever so eagerly.
« Last Edit: January 25, 2008, 05:24:01 AM by Nelique A’drosa » Logged

¤••• Rarely do great beauty and great virtue dwell together. •••¤ Quote: Nelique A'drosa
Altario Shialt-eck-Gorrin
Adventurer
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Gender: Male
Posts: 1969


Human, Remusian


« Reply #160 on: January 23, 2008, 10:49:16 AM »

As if dismissing him, the young woman turned from him when her hand matron came to the table with a goblet of steaming water.  He, however, was not finished, and would not be dismissed in such a fashion.  "You do not sell to the orcs, because more than likely, they would butcher your crew, steal your wares, and make you a slave, though I pity the orc that tried to get any physical labour from you."  He pressed the tips of his fingers to his temples for a brief moment, before turning away from her.

Altario took three steps from her before turning back.  He stared hard at her and raised a hand and wagged a calloused finger at her.  "And Miss A'drosa, my tribe stands alone... the Remusian people stand alone, because that is the will of Kor'och.  We are the only people worthy of him, and are strong enough to be on our own.  Nothing shall ever destroy us.  Not the orcs, not the Ice Tribes, not the ice and snow.  Not even greedy merchants from the south."

Two more steps from the woman before he stopped once more.  He placed his hands on his hips, his back still towards her.  Lips pursed, he stood there, eyes downcast.  There were things in life that a Remusian warrior could expect.  Like Denrykmar, wounds were expected.  A glorious death in battle was hoped for.  Hardship was a given.  But swallowing of pride was virtually unknown.

He spoke, his voice loud and full of pride.  "Miss A'drosa, I must see to my men, but I will return.  When I do, I shall sit with you and go over your manifest of goods.  Perhaps there is something that the Remusian military can use.  I trust your price will be a fair one."  Then, almost as an afterthought, "If you ask most of the Remusian's in this room, you will find that I have the authority to speak on behalf of the military here."  He then headed to the door, without looking back.  Her smirk was not something Altario had the stomach to see at the moment.
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Favorite Cartoon Quotes
"It was a dark and stormy night."  - Snoopy
"Ack!" - Bill the Cat
"I did not have sex with that woman, Monica Lewinski." - President Bill Clinton

My Character can be viewed @Angelina Jolie's house.  But knock first, in case I'm in my underwear.
Altario Shialt-eck-Gorrin
Adventurer
Story Mod
***
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Gender: Male
Posts: 1969


Human, Remusian


« Reply #161 on: January 23, 2008, 12:09:00 PM »

Rellech Arnevahr

Rellech was caught listening to two different conversations.  Of course, he was listening to Khel who was eagerly trying to rid herself of the boy, but as well, he was observing the officer who had been in the argument earlier.  Impatiently, he dismissed Khel with a brief wave of his hand.  "Fine, I shall keep the boy in my company, thus keeping you free to perform duties most advantageous to our affiliation.  Kor'och knows his parents would would no doubt have something to say about it anyway, seeing as they have no doubt developed some affection for the child.  Finding a cook of his mother's considerable talent would be nigh impossible."

Once again the term "partner" grated on his nerves, but he was through trying to teach her anything.  She was beyond learning.  Instead he nodded thoughtfully.  "Yes, I think that I should converse with you more on what commodities our association shall endeavor to trade.  But in the meantime, I ask you to turn your attention over there.  That officer.  Do you see?" 

When he was sure she could tell of who he was referring, he looked at Khel thoughtfully.  "Pertaining to our conversation earlier, an example can be seen as to what is the trouble with Remusia.  The good officer is short sighted, a fool, regardless of the position he holds."  A smile crossed his face.  "However, in this case, providence may have just provided something we can use to our advantage.  That girl, from her look and in truth, her demeanor, she appears to be someone of means.  And more, it would appear as though she has come here for trade.  Perhaps, Lady Khel, a contact has come to us, without the need to expend energy looking for one."

His mind worked feverishly, seeing the pros and cons of this unexpected development.  "Mayhap, you should invite her to join us, and I should think it most advantageous that we should do so before the good commander returns from the duty that calls him forth.  Dwarven steel, elven arrows?  Sounds like fortune may just favour us and have supplied us with just the things we can make a profit with here."  He flashed Khel his charming smile.  "With any luck, you and I just may start seeing a profit sooner than either of us suspected."
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Favorite Cartoon Quotes
"It was a dark and stormy night."  - Snoopy
"Ack!" - Bill the Cat
"I did not have sex with that woman, Monica Lewinski." - President Bill Clinton

My Character can be viewed @Angelina Jolie's house.  But knock first, in case I'm in my underwear.
Vallari O'Neil
Avant-Garde
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Gender: Female
Posts: 147


Human, Caltharian


« Reply #162 on: January 23, 2008, 04:56:57 PM »

While she had been drawing half of her attention had been focused upon the argument between the beautiful woman and the man. But now the young, talented artist had pretty much finished the, what she would consider, rough drawing save for a few touch ups that could be made, a scant couple moments ago. Since such time she had sat almost absentmindedly upon the stone table top with her book of ridiculous proportions perched open upon her lap, her limp right hand still loosely gripping her stick of wrapped charcoal. The drawing utensil fell from small calloused fingers to roll somewhat beneath her right thigh, hidden from view and making a dark smudge on the leg of her shorts. The fight, she assumed, was over for the most part as the man declared such before starting towards the door. The whole situation just seem to be overflowing with hilarity in her mind and she found herself completely unable to stop the giggles that began, quietly at first, seeping from between her shapely lips.

Oh the things they said! The looks on their faces! The failed act that the beauty put on! The anger. The pride. The arrogance. All of it was simply hilarious to her and she thought for a moment, in the back of her head, that maybe she was just a little bit delirious. After all, she was very tired and considerably hungry. It was a possibility.   `... Nah!`   Dropped stick of charcoal forgotten, she slid her sketch book off of her lap and wrapped one arm around her middle as her right hand, smudged with gray, to press against her mouth in what was about to be a very futile attempt to stifle her laughter.

The attractive warrior wasn't even halfway, from the spot in which he had stood, to the door when the flimsy barrier that her fingers provided in her effort to hold her laughter at bay simply broke down and she burst out laughing. It was extremely loud, despite the sound that it was, and was undoubtedly more than just audible to the man heading for the door. A throaty laugh, the tinkling of bells, a bubbling giggle, sweet and soft yet harsh and very, very loud all at the same time. It was almost as though her laugh, itself, had multiple personalities all of it's own. It was almost a musical sound... almost. And, truth be told, nothing at the moment was nearly as funny as she was making it seem, but something was obviously funny enough to render her almost immobile in a fit of laughter.

Vividly brilliant Baveras’ Eye orbs sparkled with what was possibly delirious mirth, thin toned arms wrapped around her midsection as she simply roared with unrestrained laughter. She probably looked crazy. Absolutely out of her mind, insane, off her horse crazy. That thought alone was enough to make her laugh harder. Perhaps she was crazy... just a little bit. Tears filled her eyes and effectively blurred her vision and, before she knew it, she was weeping tears of mirth. Nothing warranted this kind of unabashed laughter. And she tried to stop a few times, which resulted in a short moment of wheezing gasps, but it didn't seem to work as she would just pick up on the laughter where she left off. She shoved her feet out from the Indian style sitting position that she had been in and accidentally shoved her sketch book to the floor in the process. But the loud 'thump' of the book landing on the floor for the second time since her arrival in Wison's Breath, still opened to the same page upon which she had finished the sketch of the situation that had just resolved itself, went on unnoticed by her as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hands and groped around the table almost thoughtlessly for her missing stick of wrapped charcoal.

She wasn't quite sure how long she had been laughing for, but it couldn't have been too horribly long. And her nearly, but not quite, musical laughter began to die down as she groped around the table for her charcoal box as well. One hand found the box, but she couldn't seem to find the stick that she had dropped upon the table and she ended up actually looking under herself by leaning over on her side in either direction until she discovered it's hiding place beneath her right thigh where it rudely presumed to smudge itself upon her pant leg. Snatching up the piece, she placed it in the box with all the others as she had done earlier and put it back in it's rightful place in her rather heavy bag. Soft, bubbling giggles were still spilling forth from her lips as she did this, sniffling from the tears that she had just cried in her outburst. She wiped at her face again with both of her hands, stealing away any wetness that might remain upon her cheeks before she finally discovered that her oh-so-important sketch book was gone.

The laughter stopped then and she gasped, an oddly sharp intake of breath punctuated by a soft sniffle. She lurched herself forwards, which ended with her on her hands and knees on a stone table top. The momentum of her movement was almost enough to throw herself off of the table completely and was she just barely able to keep herself from falling as her hands gripped desperately at the edge of the table in order to steady herself. Her eyes swept across the floor until it came to her open book. An annoyed frown spread across her face as she sat back before climbing off of the table. At least the stray pages hadn't fluttered out of it this time. She was grateful that she wouldn't have to scuttle about on her hands and knees again to collect all of the papers as she had last time. Especially since this time she hardly thought that anyone would be so kind as to help her pick them all up. She was suddenly worried. After all, she had just made quite the spectacle of herself. Reaching down, she snatched up her large, heavy book and snapped it shut. Not that it mattered now, of course. Anyone who cared to look would have most likely gotten a gander at the picture being displayed.

There was no doubt in her mind of what everyone in the room thought of her now. No doubt at all. They all thought her to be insane. Crazy. A complete freak. She could feel their eyes pressing down on her skin like intrusive fingers. Probing. Trying to figure out what was so wrong with her. She fidgeted under the pressure. There was probably hardly anyone paying attention to her. Many were most likely- hopefully- politely looking away from her. Quickly, she moved herself back onto the side of the table which she had been at before and sat down, leaning towards the table and pulling her bag towards her to shove her sketch book inside. There was nothing wrong, of course. She was fine.

She figured that there were a few ways that she could handle her own embarrassment. She had choices. She could burst out in tears. She could quickly leave Wison's Breath and wonder around the market in the horrible cold, once she found it, until she found a warm cloak to buy herself before returning. She could stare at her feet and blush feeling embarrassed. Or she could take it all in stride. Of course, she chose to take it all in stride. It was the best choice, even if she really did want to buy herself that cloak as soon as possible. Still... she leaned back in the chair that she had previously occupied, before she clambered up onto the table, with a calm smile blooming across her sensuously shapely, and possibly even kissable, mouth.
« Last Edit: January 24, 2008, 12:35:41 AM by Vallari O'Neil » Logged

My pale baby
Pink, soft fleshy lips
Milky white mortal skin
Blue fire underneath your brow
Your echo keeping true


...\\CD//...
Laoise Tyrani
Venomous Enchantress
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Posts: 33


Human, Helcrani


« Reply #163 on: January 24, 2008, 07:21:01 PM »

Laoise watched with growing fascination as the military-looking man and the newly-arrived lady began to exchange viciously lashed comments.  The lady seemed in pain; wincing almost constantly and taking two different types of medicine in the space of a few minutes.  What was she taking, the agile brain wondered.  Laoise’s sixteen year old self immediately supplied a number of scandalous answers from suicide tablets to medicine which kept her in that beautiful form and prevented her from changing back into a fish-tailed, sea-bound monster.  The 29 year old scorned the youngster within for spending so much time fantasising about stories and adventure.  She had long ago realised that this exciting life was not for her at all – a quiet comfortable home with a husband and children should have been her destiny.  But her family had screwed that one up with almost admirable success.  That little sixteen year old could no longer be trusted to make their decisions; to know what to do or how to act.  It saddened the woman a little that she had changed so much in so few years; she had learnt much too but not all of it good.  If there was a time she could go back to, start again, it would be then. Before…well, just Before.   More wine seemed necessary at this point and the woman flagged down another busy waitress.

The lithe white canine form at Laoise’s feet shifted a little; Lola’s quiet patience was slowly running out with the gorgeous smell of the meat.  The mage had been finishing off her stew as she watched the unplanned entertainment, and now all that remained were a few pieces of meat and juices.  Clasping the side of the bowl in her left digits, she placed it down on the floor beside her, running her spare hand quickly over the dog’s smooth head and back.   With one quick, grateful look at her master, the animal began to devour down the leftovers, her worn teeth barely chewing as she gulped the pieces down.  The noise of her eager tongue filtered up to the table as Laoise turned to the clatter of tired feet which announced the arrival of her new glass of wine.  Sitting up and thanking the woman for the much needed-alcohol, Laoise’s attention was brought once more to the strange girl who was still perched on the top of their table. 

No longer absorbed in her furious artwork, the straggly–dressed female suddenly burst out laughing, her eyes resting on the military man from before, who was now haltingly making his way to the door.  Not having been concentrating on the whole conversation, Laoise felt a little at a loss to see what was so funny, and yet the sight of the indignant man getting laughed at by a girl sitting cross-legged on a table amused her instead.  But how quickly that unusual, happy, bubbly feeling turned to shock.  The female in front of her did not just giggle, she roared and rocked with laughter, wrapping two thin arms around herself in what looked like an attempt to prevent her lungs from bursting with the strain.  A loud papery thump stopped her, accompanied by a startled bark from Lola.  The dog began to growl at the unknown book-hurling woman from beneath the table, but made no move towards her.  The rumbling threat seemed to pass unheeded as Vee scrabbled about on the top of the table collecting all her things.  Laoise could only stare at this stranger with her strange ways and marvel at her complete lack of propriety.  She wondered where the woman had grown up, not in a derogatory way, but more in amazement that it could be thought acceptable to act like this.  Had she never been reprimanded for this kind of behaviour?  To tell the truth the well-bred mage was slightly jealous.  Her childhood had been a series of “do”s and “don’t”s – how to be a lady.  If she hadn’t been so used to taking advice from her mother, maybe she wouldn’t have…The mage dropped her stare and took a large gulp of the wine.

Her gaze brushed the floor, and Laoise spotted the book which had fallen off the table.  And the drawing within. It was, frankly, quite beautiful, the people almost seeming to walk out of it. You could imagine them breathing, recognise their faces.  Recognise their faces.  What if this woman drew a picture of her.  What would Vee do with it?  Who would she show it to?  Even if Laoise could not be traced by her name, one of these images would be enough to identify her.  Fear fluttered in the mage’s breast as the thoughts spilled into her consciousness, each one increasing her agitation.  Suddenly they couldn’t be contained any longer and words spewed straight from Laoise’s paranoia.  “You should ask before drawing people’s portraits”  the mage bristled at Vee, the tone firm and accusing without a hint of a joke.  Green-shining orbs blazed with what could be interpreted as fear, and one petite hand found Lola’s soft back, stroking it to calm herself down a little.  The dog sensed her master’s fear and began to growl once more, only adding to the tension of the couple.
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Nelique A’drosa
Crestfallen Heiress
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Gender: Female
Posts: 259


Human ~ Anpagan


« Reply #164 on: January 25, 2008, 12:39:55 AM »

For a moment Nelique pondered a new barrage upon the Remusian, yet she had gained all she had desired. Even if she had wished to speak up a boisterous laughter began to echo about the hall leaving the heiress no need to speak any further. Evidently the cavalry general had made an exhibition of himself that not only humored her but the young lass seated upon a far table. Fragile hands still clutched the steaming goblet adamantly as radiant green eyes lifted to study the bizarre outburst. Crimson lips parted into a beaming grin that was veiled beneath the rim of her drink. Though the young lass appeared to be a commoner Neli was somewhat pleased that she was not the only one to find the pompous outburst to be somewhat entertaining.

Casually almond shaped eyes studied the company the young girl had with her. Oddly enough it appeared that she was with a Lady of some noble bearing. The crash of the hysterical girl’s tablet upon the floor caused the heiress’s eyes to narrow, vague tinges of pain still shooting through her temples. Yet Neli kept an unwavering gaze fixated upon the Helcrani, the Anpagan pondered intently as to whom the woman was. The young maiden had been numerous places and met with an abundant amount of affluent people and not for a split second did the woman seem vaguely familiar. The Lady’s vigorous auburn locks marked her as foreign in these parts, nearly as much so as Nelique. A competitor possibly?

No handmaiden accompanied the extraordinary woman only the weird girl still bursting with delight. She wondered if perhaps they were sisters, though their heritage seemed to be distant, if at all. Yet Nelique figured that could be the only reason a Lady of such regal bearing would be about in public with a lunatic. Once again a twist fell over the scene as the auburn haired woman’s serene gaze faltered; turning into a steaming glare at the harebrained girl seated upon the table, Neli was indeed to far away to hear what was uttered. But the displeasure upon the Helcrani’s visage was evident and no longer did the illusion of the heiress’s previous assumptions ring true. The woman’s look so viperous that it caused the Anpagan to shiver delicately with a bitter chill prancing up her spine.

With haste Nelique turned away from the pair of ladies really not caring what was taking place. The young girl’s laughter had made the heiress a bit light headed and giddy, yet the older woman’s glare had taken all humor from the event. Leaving Neli to wish she had never taken the moments to study them. Flashes of the elder ladie’s emerald eyes continued to play over and over again in her mind; feral darkness was contained in their depths, something the Anpagan wished she had never seen. A shaky hand brought the goblet down from supple lips, placing the half-full container to respite upon the stony table.

With nonchalant grace she spread her flowing white cloak across the surface of the *dead* carcass she was suppose to sit upon. Gingerly the heiress brushed her pallid hands over the sumptuous sognastheen hued dressed, ensuring that all was in order before taking her seat. Poised with one frail shoulder towards the table the heiress positioned her legs to be crossed in a stately fashion. One petite hand placed lightly upon her knee as the other played frivolously with chocolate hued curls. Sea green eyes wandered over the hearth studying the majesty of such a grandiose structure. Neli was a bit impressed at how well crafted it was, probably the most fascinating object she had laid eyes upon since her arrival. Minus the delightful port guard of course! A spriteful beam spread over her crimson lips as she pondered the guard for a moment.
« Last Edit: January 25, 2008, 05:07:47 AM by Nelique A’drosa » Logged

¤••• Rarely do great beauty and great virtue dwell together. •••¤ Quote: Nelique A'drosa
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