Vithkun Almear
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 437 
Age: 84
Physical Description: Vithkun is a tall guy extending about 1.9 m in height and has long flowing white hair as is often seen in his family. He would appear to be around 30 years of age.
Clothes and Equipment: He is royalty and likes to show it which is why he wears a thing braided silver band on his head which value can likely not be descriped in mere numbers. In his travels he will go for his plated armor, one which is both extremely light and quite durable, enabling him to retain much of his agility. For more formal matters he prefers robes in various colors and patterns.
He carries his sword with him most of the time and it is a slim long sword forged by the elves. The metal - like his armor - is hard but light and the sharpness of its edge knows few peers. He carries a dagger of similar quality too.
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:46:39 GMT -8
|
Post by Vithkun Almear on Sept 3, 2018 13:12:50 GMT -8
Vithkun raised a single brow as Myra told about the smooth arches and tall chambers - it quickly bored him.
"I'm baffled that they would build so tall underneath the earth. Seems counter productive don't you think?" Vithkun suggested, though it was more a dismissal of the subject at hand he could no longer argue against than trying to prolong the discussion.
"Sooo... where did you grow up then?" he asked Myra trying to pry out a little more about her personal life. At least this way he might be able to piece together what kind of danger level she possessed. Of course all drows were dangerous to some extend and had to be watched carefully when they offered you their service.
|
|
Myralthrine Host
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 478 
Age: 56
Physical Description: Avatar is accurate, 5'6 height.
Clothes and Equipment: Wanderers cloak in a material resembling vantablack in that it does not appear to be a real color. Beneath it she generally wears black leather boots to her knee, charcoal breeches and shirt, both fitted, and black bracers upon her forearms. She carries a morningstar upon her hip and satchel that crosses over her shoulder and chest.
Allegiances: None
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:13:41 GMT -8
|
Post by Myralthrine Host on Sept 3, 2018 13:20:11 GMT -8
Holding a hand out his direction it was a dismissive gesture but one meant to quiet him quickly. Passing from the open road into a wooded area they were in more danger here where their vision limited in distance. She thought she heard something other than his tinny voice but it was nothing and she lowered it a second later. "Around Host," she told him pronouncing the word like Hau-st. It was the reason she could not tell him her last name as it was the same.
Long branches dragging across the sky they limited their vision above them keeping but small rays of the sun from reaching them. Heading out late in the morning she would insist on eating along the path to save time. Light conversation in which both monitored their words carried them throughout the afternoon until she insisted they stop for the night. Still in familiar territory there was a small clearing not far off the main road with a stream by it. Dangerous in its own right as it could be a place for an ambush and while others might require water she feared this area less than most and figured it might be safe at least for one night.
Dismounting she had no immense tent to set up, just a bed roll, but she would tell him, "I'll go find some wood to burn for a fire."
Pulling off the saddle and bridle of the horse so she could freely gorge herself on the surrounding foliage she would leave the small area in search of some dead branches that would keep them warm overnight.
|
|
Vithkun Almear
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 437
Age: 84
Physical Description: Vithkun is a tall guy extending about 1.9 m in height and has long flowing white hair as is often seen in his family. He would appear to be around 30 years of age.
Clothes and Equipment: He is royalty and likes to show it which is why he wears a thing braided silver band on his head which value can likely not be descriped in mere numbers. In his travels he will go for his plated armor, one which is both extremely light and quite durable, enabling him to retain much of his agility. For more formal matters he prefers robes in various colors and patterns.
He carries his sword with him most of the time and it is a slim long sword forged by the elves. The metal - like his armor - is hard but light and the sharpness of its edge knows few peers. He carries a dagger of similar quality too.
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:46:39 GMT -8
|
Post by Vithkun Almear on Sept 4, 2018 2:26:42 GMT -8
Vithkun frowned as she gestured towards him. Did she just tell him to quiet down? As far as he could tell there was no one else than the two present - the immediate dangers being limited to what was probably the sound of a hare rustling through the undergrowth and his mouth turned back into a smug smile.
"A little jumpy aren't you?" he asked before commenting on the answer to his question. "Host..?" he said as his normally smooth facial features contorted into a distasteful cringe. "You can't be serious? That place is said to be a dung heap where one is bare able to sustain one's living." Vithkun said and remembered back on what he was told about that place. Not that drows lived very fancily but that place was where the lowest of the drows were said to be driven to. Those with no land, money or honor.
He wasn't sure if he wanted to know much more but did slowly wrench the words out. "Hooow... did you end up there..?" he asked skeptically though feeling some amount of pity towards Myra, though the place itself filled him with contempt for the ways the drows had build their culture. Surely with the prowess of elves - even the drows - no one had to live like that. Unfortunately the drows had cast aside their elven honor centuries ago and even though they still had visual similarities with the pure elves Vithkun doubted they would ever be able to atone in a way so the gods would smile upon them again.
"It's not exactly High Haven, but it will do I suppose." Vithkun said inspecting the place and sighed longing a little for his home. Water nearby would satisfy their basic needs but to him it seemed there was little chance for an ambush at this place and he reckoned they could relax. Motioning his horse to a stop the wind would slowly settle and bring him down before it vanished.
Vithkun nodded as Myra left to get some wood for a fire as he took a medium sized sachel from his luggage from which he drew out a very thin piece of cloth. It was almost translucent in nature, though the elaborate curly drawings in gold and silver seemed to bind it together inside the purple/blue cloth despite it's thin texture. The size of the sachel betrayed the vastness of the cloth as he folded it out, and with a quick inscription of his magic the cloth started forming what ended up being a quite reasonably sized tent a little taller than Vithkun and with little pointy spires to add to the height. Inside it was even more spacious than it looked from the outside and a small family would have ample room to stay there.
As Vithkun entered he felt the warmness from High Haven radiate from the cloth and it seemed somewhat brighter and more welcoming inside than outside - such was the wonder of what the elves produced - though a tent like this was hardly something everyone owned. By extension the tent was very easy to overlook because it to some degree reflected the light behind it and not inside it making it seem like it was one with the nature. Furthermore the inside would isolate Vithkun effectively from most ambient sounds, though sounds of distress, aggression and footsteps outside would be amplified allowing one to sleep tightly without fear of being ambushed without knowing it beforehand.
Vithkun already felt more relaxed and stepped out of the tent to see if Myra had come back with some twigs.
|
|
Myralthrine Host
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 478
Age: 56
Physical Description: Avatar is accurate, 5'6 height.
Clothes and Equipment: Wanderers cloak in a material resembling vantablack in that it does not appear to be a real color. Beneath it she generally wears black leather boots to her knee, charcoal breeches and shirt, both fitted, and black bracers upon her forearms. She carries a morningstar upon her hip and satchel that crosses over her shoulder and chest.
Allegiances: None
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:13:41 GMT -8
|
Post by Myralthrine Host on Sept 4, 2018 5:29:15 GMT -8
Presuming that his questioning her caution was another sign of his superiority, after all who would attack such a beautiful and wonderful prince, she had to hold her tongue. She believed him a target much more likely to be attacked for his high speech and his rather loud voice. He enjoyed hearing himself speak and in turn harass others perhaps unintentionally but still doing so as he spoke about the section of land she had grown up in. Had she informed him of her surname she could not imagine the look of pity and from there on out the belief she was even further beneath him.
“The same way that anyone ends up anywhere, they’re born to it,” letting him get out everything all at once after he questioned her his surprise evident in the way he spoke. His tone gave her the indication he was not questioning her sincerity but that it was simply just surprise. There was nothing for it as he had asked a direct question and had she refused to answer he might have taken to guessing until he hit the mark correctly.
“No it’s not,” High Haven was far from here but the clear skies and soft grass would provide them with bedding for the night. Quite a change from being accustomed to a straw bed that may or may not be covered with bugs.
Disappearing into the forest it was the only moment where there would be any sort of silence offered to her and she gave into her joy in it. Breathing more easily she had removed her cloak before leaving the clearing throwing it over her mare. She brought a small rope that was of drow make, black in color and as thin as twine but it would not break not matter how much force was placed upon it having been enhanced with magical properties.
Collecting bigger logs to burn throughout the night and small branches and kindling she piled them together placing the rope beneath them spread apart over it before bringing it together and tying it tightly. It was quite the bundle that she would swing over her back holding the rope one handed. Returning to the clearing her sharp gaze would catch sight of the tent no matter how well it blended into its surrounding. Brimming with dislike of the comfort of the tent itself her view once again of Vith was dropping rather quickly and she would toss the firewood towards the center of the clearing seeing him emerge at the same time. Her glance was rather deadly in nature as she overflowed with unreasonable anger.
Dressed simply now in her breeches and linen shirt he could see that while it was well made the material was the sturdy type that he might expect out of Host. Still it fit her well outlining wide hips, strong thighs, and an bosom that when she leaned over would show the soft edges of its curves as she undid the top knot on the rope.
“We will be able to rely on the dwarves to restock our rations, there’s fowl in the area but with night falling it’s a bit late to hunt.”
|
|
Vithkun Almear
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 437
Age: 84
Physical Description: Vithkun is a tall guy extending about 1.9 m in height and has long flowing white hair as is often seen in his family. He would appear to be around 30 years of age.
Clothes and Equipment: He is royalty and likes to show it which is why he wears a thing braided silver band on his head which value can likely not be descriped in mere numbers. In his travels he will go for his plated armor, one which is both extremely light and quite durable, enabling him to retain much of his agility. For more formal matters he prefers robes in various colors and patterns.
He carries his sword with him most of the time and it is a slim long sword forged by the elves. The metal - like his armor - is hard but light and the sharpness of its edge knows few peers. He carries a dagger of similar quality too.
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:46:39 GMT -8
|
Post by Vithkun Almear on Sept 4, 2018 8:33:21 GMT -8
So she was born into it then - right. Vithkun was unsure of what to say now and thus he kept silent on the topic for now. The very sentiment of being born into such a place was ghastly to Vithkun and it spoke volumes on the kind of person she was - or at least at should have as the place was known for poverty, violence and thieving. Myra had until now proved she was lived up to two of these prejudices with the last still to be finally confirmed. Still something was amiss because despite her many short comings and tendency to secrecy she seemed to possess qualities too - qualities of strength and determination that came from a place deep down he had not expected to see in a drow of any kind. It seemed time would tell him more, and though he would have swore against it two days ago, this one did catch his interest as she in some places confirmed exactly his thoughts about drows and in others completely contradicted it.
As the logs were thrown in the center of the clearing Vithkun would catch Myra's gaze and the flaring anger was immediately apparent.
"You look like you've never seen an elven tent before? Don't tell me you haven't brought a tent yourself?" he asked Myra as he looked towards her stuff.
Vithkun would discretely look away when the drow bend forwards as to not have any misunderstandings arise - especially when she seemed in a less than buoyant mood. He could however not overlook her female shape completely and would notice that although she was build slightly sturdier, there was an elegance of build and movement that complimented the elven race quite well. She seemed to continue to raise questions rather than provide answers in Vithkun's mind. He gathered his hands on the back and stepped closer and knelled down besides her.
"The rations seem at least sufficient for now, but you're the one who knows how far away the dwarves are." he said with a slight smirk as he tossed the logs in a disorganized heap. He then promptly raised his finger and placed it on one of the logs about to inscribe the magical words for 'fire' into it lighting it up unless stopped.
|
|
Myralthrine Host
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 478
Age: 56
Physical Description: Avatar is accurate, 5'6 height.
Clothes and Equipment: Wanderers cloak in a material resembling vantablack in that it does not appear to be a real color. Beneath it she generally wears black leather boots to her knee, charcoal breeches and shirt, both fitted, and black bracers upon her forearms. She carries a morningstar upon her hip and satchel that crosses over her shoulder and chest.
Allegiances: None
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:13:41 GMT -8
|
Post by Myralthrine Host on Sept 4, 2018 8:44:50 GMT -8
“Do I look like I possess a tent?” Flaring up before she could measure out an appropriate response she felt how unreasonable it was. Instead of apologizing she turned sullen deciding the best course of action was not to say anything else. Calming slightly with a deep breath she would say, “I sleep beneath the stars. Just as the sun shines upon your flaxen hair so does the moon give me the same invigorating feel.”
Odd of her to admit like him she found herself at odds with who she thought him to be and how he was beginning to present himself. The fact he was attempting to build a fire, incorrectly she might add, was charming if not asked for.
Before he could light it she would touch the back of his hand pushing it back slightly. Despite holding a mace often her touch was gentle and soft, “Not yet.”
Reaching forth she removed some of the larger logs, “It will burn too quickly and be wasteful unless you prepare it properly.”
Moving the kindling to the bottom center and rearranging the rest there would be plenty more to place throughout the night. It appeared for now at least his gesture of good will was taken as just that.
“Now,” she did not demand but requested looking past long lashes to him.
|
|
Vithkun Almear
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 437
Age: 84
Physical Description: Vithkun is a tall guy extending about 1.9 m in height and has long flowing white hair as is often seen in his family. He would appear to be around 30 years of age.
Clothes and Equipment: He is royalty and likes to show it which is why he wears a thing braided silver band on his head which value can likely not be descriped in mere numbers. In his travels he will go for his plated armor, one which is both extremely light and quite durable, enabling him to retain much of his agility. For more formal matters he prefers robes in various colors and patterns.
He carries his sword with him most of the time and it is a slim long sword forged by the elves. The metal - like his armor - is hard but light and the sharpness of its edge knows few peers. He carries a dagger of similar quality too.
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:46:39 GMT -8
|
Post by Vithkun Almear on Sept 4, 2018 10:08:02 GMT -8
Vithkun was slightly taken aback by the sudden outburst.
"So... you did not bring a tent?" he responded, thinking she seemed to be the type to think about everything as he listened to her explanation with little conviction.
"Invigorating yes. Of course..." he said and crossed his arms. "Admit it, you were just too stubborn to use the gold I provided for one." he said and shrugged. "Well, there won't be many stars out tonight judging by the gathering clouds." Vithkun said and motioned his head in a slight upwards nod - though he was rather a little concerned about the risk of rain than he felt victorious.
As Vithkun was about to let the fire flare up he felt Myra's touch on the top of his hand and turned his head surprised.
"Are you suggesting that I can't make a bonfire?" he said and chuckled though he quickly realized his folly. "Right, it's been a while." he said reluctantly and let her arrange the logs and twigs.
"It... does seem better now." he admitted and reached for the log placing his index finger on its surface. His hands and fingers were long and elegant and his skin smooth, although one might notice the slightly pronounced veins that would only show on hands strong enough to wield a sword.
"It is called 'inscription' and it is my signature magic." he suddenly went - softer spoken than before - as he motioned the tip of his finger in a flowing yet distinct way while a red writing appeared briefly before vanishing as embers started to spark from inside the log. "It's the same magic I use to bind the wind to be my steed and the tent to assume its shape." he explained feeling slightly less tense around her then he had felt before as these were secrets even his closest servants didn't know of. But out here in the forest away from everything, he felt he could afford to lower his guard just a little. Myra was straight forward and a far cry from the soft spoken but often competitive and highly political climate of High Haven. Perhaps he even let slide a natural smile of a kind he hadn't allowed himself for a while.
|
|
Myralthrine Host
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 478
Age: 56
Physical Description: Avatar is accurate, 5'6 height.
Clothes and Equipment: Wanderers cloak in a material resembling vantablack in that it does not appear to be a real color. Beneath it she generally wears black leather boots to her knee, charcoal breeches and shirt, both fitted, and black bracers upon her forearms. She carries a morningstar upon her hip and satchel that crosses over her shoulder and chest.
Allegiances: None
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:13:41 GMT -8
|
Post by Myralthrine Host on Sept 4, 2018 12:19:15 GMT -8
“It was not mine to spend.” Shrugging slightly she was crouched down next to him with the firewood and kindling before them. She had no excuses nor any lies for him in that matter. What was was and what had happened was in the past now; including her striking him. He had never given any thought to revenge or striking her back and it just now hit her that he had avoided the topic of it. Either he didn’t care or he was saving her some embarrassment by never attempting payback. Him pointing out the sky was clouding over did not fully concern her, if it rained she’d take shelter beneath the trees finding one thick enough that she could manipulate the branches to fully cover her. She only worried for Uma.
“It’s been a while?” Non accusatory for once but joking in nature as he chuckled she actually laughed along with him. There was something calming about being by another person, so close and yet so far, and as their laughter faded and he admitted that she was right about it being better, “What was that you said?”
Grinning from cheek to cheek this wasn't fake as his wasn’t soon enough after he finished his words she allowed it to fade as she watched the inscription that flowed from his finger. “Oh,” the sound was soft from pursed lips at the amazement of his work. Listening she leaned in towards the fire their shoulders almost brushing as it came to life. Silver strands slipped around her shoulders the braid loosening its hold after a days travel.
Glancing back to him with a new appreciation she caught the edge of what his real emotions looked like. Was he hiding much more than she could uncover? Reverting her gaze to the fire it reflected back to her. Adjusting one of the lower logs slightly to keep herself busy for a second she hated to compliment him but she did so, “It’s a beautiful strain of magic.”
Tacking on a ‘your highness’ would have been in her wheelhouse of insults but she did not care to include it this time. She had wanted to say his name instead and her cheeks burned with knowing it. Why was his behavior so bipolar. It was driving her insane.
|
|
Vithkun Almear
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 437
Age: 84
Physical Description: Vithkun is a tall guy extending about 1.9 m in height and has long flowing white hair as is often seen in his family. He would appear to be around 30 years of age.
Clothes and Equipment: He is royalty and likes to show it which is why he wears a thing braided silver band on his head which value can likely not be descriped in mere numbers. In his travels he will go for his plated armor, one which is both extremely light and quite durable, enabling him to retain much of his agility. For more formal matters he prefers robes in various colors and patterns.
He carries his sword with him most of the time and it is a slim long sword forged by the elves. The metal - like his armor - is hard but light and the sharpness of its edge knows few peers. He carries a dagger of similar quality too.
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:46:39 GMT -8
|
Post by Vithkun Almear on Sept 5, 2018 11:21:28 GMT -8
Vithkun leaned back and put his hands underneath his head as he lay there and stared deep into the sky.
"The magic has stayed with our clan for centuries if not millenia." he explained knowing very well what impression it made on most and somewhere deep down he had been concerned that Myra would have asked how he did it or that her eyes revealed the desire to learn the secrets of his clan. Somewhat to his surprise there was not a hint of that. 'Beautiful strain of magic' she called it and indeed it was and as a prince he was supposed to master it - only he was far from it.
"The first of my kin used this magic to give shape to first great cities, to enchant the forests around High Haven and some even claimed the mightiest of the elven kings created stars from writing in the sky." Vithkun told her. He couldn't help but feel quite inferior to these first elves and it felt like he was using a mighty sword for cutting butter - like some pretentious fool. Vithkun would slightly turn his head towards Myra again.
"I don't know about the star part, but as High Haven and this grove only have its roof in common, I suppose I would remove the clouds if I could." he said and sighed, still thinking that this kind of magic was such a mighty task to learn properly that he might never be able to. "Do this drow favor any of the stars above or does she not see them due to the love for stone halls and arches?" he asked with a slightly cheeky smile. Even if they were very different as elves they were born from the stars and as such he hoped that if nothing else the drows would have passed this basic knowledge on through the generations - but he wasn't too hopeful on Myra's part.
|
|
Myralthrine Host
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 478
Age: 56
Physical Description: Avatar is accurate, 5'6 height.
Clothes and Equipment: Wanderers cloak in a material resembling vantablack in that it does not appear to be a real color. Beneath it she generally wears black leather boots to her knee, charcoal breeches and shirt, both fitted, and black bracers upon her forearms. She carries a morningstar upon her hip and satchel that crosses over her shoulder and chest.
Allegiances: None
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:13:41 GMT -8
|
Post by Myralthrine Host on Sept 5, 2018 12:19:45 GMT -8
Myra shared no love for the secrets of others for to attain them was at a cost that most could never pay. Illfit for such a task she knew only woodland magic that allowed her to determine position and to speak to the trees. An odd trait for a drow but common among their cousins. One of whom she now was next to and confused at his very nature. It was a mystery how the man could change so suddenly from a high and mighty prince to just a man. A man who spoke of crafting stars in the sky above them.
“I cannot imagine being able to create such life. Perhaps they were gifts and that is why so many are known after the ones of old. I can imagine no gesture greater than that.”
Settling on her bottom she crossed her legs both hands adjusting the fit of the fire making sure it would burn throughout the night. Her expression kept carefully neutral until he spoke of her and she cast him a look over her shoulder. She smiled. Something small and sweet betraying how his words tugged upon her making her believe for an instant that they might one day return to their people all the better for having met one another. The stone suddenly came to mind and she had to look away. Their goal was the same in the end. She would betray him and in her heart she felt a pain at the idea.
“Stone can be weathered away by the world around it. Destroyed by man or beast and while it lasts for many millennia it will fall to the way side once nature reclaims it. But stars,” her face tilted upwards as if she was attempting to peer through the clouds, “They will all fall with time but from them was our birth and so shall we return to the ash fallen as they do. I would spend my life beneath them and never be able to count them all not pick one that I favor over another.”
|
|
Vithkun Almear
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 437
Age: 84
Physical Description: Vithkun is a tall guy extending about 1.9 m in height and has long flowing white hair as is often seen in his family. He would appear to be around 30 years of age.
Clothes and Equipment: He is royalty and likes to show it which is why he wears a thing braided silver band on his head which value can likely not be descriped in mere numbers. In his travels he will go for his plated armor, one which is both extremely light and quite durable, enabling him to retain much of his agility. For more formal matters he prefers robes in various colors and patterns.
He carries his sword with him most of the time and it is a slim long sword forged by the elves. The metal - like his armor - is hard but light and the sharpness of its edge knows few peers. He carries a dagger of similar quality too.
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:46:39 GMT -8
|
Post by Vithkun Almear on Sept 5, 2018 13:05:48 GMT -8
"There is no doubt that the stars are gifts from the gods - even if someone created them they were just copying the mighty power of the real creator." Vithkun said, this time his words were slightly more academic in nature and less of an expression of deep thoughts. Of course one such as Myra would be impressed by his magic coming from the culture she did, but nothing in her words made Vithkun feel more assured that he'd reach the elves of old's prowess with magic and he felt a small amount of anger build.
"It is indeed a great gesture made possible by great elves in the past." Vithkun's words no longer softly spoken and he sat up again. Why did he feel this bound to his legacy and past? He looked at Myra and seemed to understand that even though - as a drow - she might remember about the stars and for a brief while they may even feel kinship, he knew the jewel to belong with him. The jewel would surely unlock secrets to the real elven inscription magics of old and with that he could bring his kin into a new and glorious era along with his to be wife.
"It is only a few stones who don't wither away and we're on our way to find one." he said firmly and in some way dismissing Myra's deep thoughts about nature and stars. Vithkun had remembered his duty - both to his clan and to himself. Feeling small drops of rain on his forehead he stood up and briefly glanced at Myra, his eyes more distant.
"The road is long, I will retreat to my tent." he said with a tone of quiet determination, though a short lingering gaze told of a longing he was not allowing himself to admit.
|
|
Myralthrine Host
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 478
Age: 56
Physical Description: Avatar is accurate, 5'6 height.
Clothes and Equipment: Wanderers cloak in a material resembling vantablack in that it does not appear to be a real color. Beneath it she generally wears black leather boots to her knee, charcoal breeches and shirt, both fitted, and black bracers upon her forearms. She carries a morningstar upon her hip and satchel that crosses over her shoulder and chest.
Allegiances: None
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:13:41 GMT -8
|
Post by Myralthrine Host on Sept 5, 2018 20:59:34 GMT -8
Watching him carefully he came upright shortly his musing finished with discussion on the stone that they sought. Neither could forget their goal as it was the very reason for their venture and at the forefront of their mind in that regard. There was not much to say in return to what he spoke of as she might be judged rather harshly for differing opinions on what she found impressive and what she humored him with. He might have forgotten that the drows themselves carried deep magic and their memories ran long and mostly true like the elves. Both excluded parts here and there in order to force everything to line up with their own views of the past. After all the one that survived or won wrote the history book and though neither one in their fight it mattered not when they had little contact with one another.
"Goodnight," but barely a whisper on the wind as he disappeared she felt the first drop fall upon the edge of her lashes. Had she not known better she might have thought her emotions riled without her knowing but a hand reached upward collected another drop. It would sprinkle at the very least but she was not unused to such weather and would move away from the fire spreading her bed roll beneath the nearest tree.
Singing low, and soft to it, the branches would crowd above her creating a canopy that would keep out all but the heaviest of rains and force it towards the edge of the clearing. Whistling to her horse the Percheron was large but when directed would remain within the protected area. Now all there was to do was to wait for dawns first light.
|
|
Vithkun Almear
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 437
Age: 84
Physical Description: Vithkun is a tall guy extending about 1.9 m in height and has long flowing white hair as is often seen in his family. He would appear to be around 30 years of age.
Clothes and Equipment: He is royalty and likes to show it which is why he wears a thing braided silver band on his head which value can likely not be descriped in mere numbers. In his travels he will go for his plated armor, one which is both extremely light and quite durable, enabling him to retain much of his agility. For more formal matters he prefers robes in various colors and patterns.
He carries his sword with him most of the time and it is a slim long sword forged by the elves. The metal - like his armor - is hard but light and the sharpness of its edge knows few peers. He carries a dagger of similar quality too.
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:46:39 GMT -8
|
Post by Vithkun Almear on Sept 5, 2018 22:57:56 GMT -8
He didn't know why, but it was with some reluctance that he went into the tent and fixed the cloth door in place. Proceeding to take both his clothes and remaining armor pieces off he fitted his nightcap before wrapping himself in the blankets. The tent's magical properties gave it some amount of insulation against the cold too and he could hardly have asked for a better place to stay in the nature. He lay there with his arms under his head as he had done at the bonfire as he heard the drops on the tent's roof only increasing in size and the pace of drumming quickening. Very soon it started to sound like a proper downpour and despite his well earned comforts he struggled to find rest.
He sat up annoyed with himself. This was stupid, she had chosen not to get a tent, get mad at him for asking and she had probably made a small shelter by now that would keep her mostly dry. Still the rain seemed to intensify and even though the tent's properties muffled the sound, he knew how much it was pouring outside. It had been her choice, yes. But he was being obstinate and he ought to be better than this. She wasn't a political rival where he could enjoy their hardship, she was his traveling companion and a fellow elf.
Vithkun hastily got dressed with pants, shirt and boots as he stepped into what was a massive downpour with only his tasseled nightcap to protecting him from the rain. He scouted outside and through the carpet of rain he saw a few branches arranged to a shelter - it could hardly have kept all the rain out. Vithkun trotted towards the shelter with long strides before standing above Myra.
"You need better cover than that..." he said and nodded towards the hastily made shelter. "... against this." he said and nodded upwards. "Come on and hurry! Your horse will be fine." he said and stretched out his hand. And unless Myra persisted he would lead her inside the tent and to proper shelter against the rain and the cold. Something he himself could use now, having been drenched form the deluge.
|
|
Myralthrine Host
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 478
Age: 56
Physical Description: Avatar is accurate, 5'6 height.
Clothes and Equipment: Wanderers cloak in a material resembling vantablack in that it does not appear to be a real color. Beneath it she generally wears black leather boots to her knee, charcoal breeches and shirt, both fitted, and black bracers upon her forearms. She carries a morningstar upon her hip and satchel that crosses over her shoulder and chest.
Allegiances: None
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:13:41 GMT -8
|
Post by Myralthrine Host on Sept 6, 2018 6:32:23 GMT -8
Coddled up against the large berth of the tree it was a rather wide oak with a fantastic trunk that supported her fully. She’d had only the bedroll tossed on top of her settled into a sitting position that might have otherwise looked uncomfortable if there was not a large pile of leaves beneath her. Using the forest to her advantage was part of what she had learned being thrust out into the world and as a child it saved her. Now stubbornness was preventing her for asking for help even as the rain quickened. She felt the drops as it began to pour more heavily. More protected by drawing in her feet her chin had been upward as she looked up to it. Enjoying the rain it was not often they saw such torrential downpours such as this. It began to seep through the branches despite the trees best effort at her behest.
Her hair began to flatten and she brushed it back the wet locks a dark grey after being partially soaked. Satisfied to live out the night in such weather without asking for help she heard him. Not quite as quiet as maybe any other because he was not attempting to be. When he stepped over her the water ceased to fall on her face and she could see him clearly. Brows furrowing he was offering her shelter from the rain and cold. His clothing had been soaked through and clung to him outlining his very shape.
Her own was hidden beneath the bed roll above her. Considering his offer there was some small part of her that wanted to refuse. That stubborn voice inside of her that insisted that anything was better than accepting his help after her earlier refusals that she didn’t need another. And she didn’t, she insisted to herself, she never would. Still accepting kindness from one who wasn’t really a stranger but wasn’t a friend wouldn’t hurt just once. He might have stalked back to the tent alone and their relations worse from it but seeing a change in him from his earlier behavior were what made her accept. She preferred this Vith over the other.
Sliding her hand into his it was warm against the cold. She rose tossing aside her bed roll easily and taking only a second glance at her horse. Uma would be fine but it did not mean she did not regret her actions towards the creature.
Following him towards the tent once they were clear of the rain in the opening she would look only back out to it realizing just how heavy it had been. Standing there drenched like him now with her pack outside of the tent she would have to let herself air dry. There were some limits to her accepting his kindness.
“I did not believe the rain would come so quickly,” not a very grateful statement at first but crossing her arms beneath her bosom she would sullenly thank him, “Perhaps having another overly prepared is not so bad,” clenching her teeth she would grit them before releasing and all the while she could not look at his face, “Thank you.”
|
|
Vithkun Almear
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 437
Age: 84
Physical Description: Vithkun is a tall guy extending about 1.9 m in height and has long flowing white hair as is often seen in his family. He would appear to be around 30 years of age.
Clothes and Equipment: He is royalty and likes to show it which is why he wears a thing braided silver band on his head which value can likely not be descriped in mere numbers. In his travels he will go for his plated armor, one which is both extremely light and quite durable, enabling him to retain much of his agility. For more formal matters he prefers robes in various colors and patterns.
He carries his sword with him most of the time and it is a slim long sword forged by the elves. The metal - like his armor - is hard but light and the sharpness of its edge knows few peers. He carries a dagger of similar quality too.
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:46:39 GMT -8
|
Post by Vithkun Almear on Sept 6, 2018 22:48:43 GMT -8
He wasn't the only one drenched form the heavy rain and Myra honestly looked like her spirit had taken a notch down or two. Vithkun looked at her as she thanked him thinking she looked rather pitiful doing so. He did honestly not expect thanks because had he acted properly, he had proposed they both use the tent already when the first drops fell.
"I don't know what rubbish I thought I had filled my tent with since I didn't invite you to stay here earlier." he said and felt his chest tighten - this was embarrassing on more than one level. Both his elven honor and his own personal moral had suffered, but he reckoned that at least later was better than never.
Vithkun took another look at Myra standing there probably feeling more like a prisoner than a guest being forced into this situation. They were both drenched but Myra probably colder and more uncomfortable than him.
"I wouldn't call myself overly prepared, I only brought a single blanket to wrap in." he said and grabbed his own from the floor and stepped behind Myra putting the large blanket over her shoulders. It would be soft and easily cover her from top to toe and with plenty to spare and would also wrap around her several times if she chose to. "This will quickly get some heat into you." he said and smiled as the tightening knot in his chest slowly coming undone and a soft smile emerging. Perhaps it would all change back tomorrow, but right in this moment he enjoyed being able to give Myra a bit of care and attention.
He left his palms linger on Myra's shoulder for a moment feeling how the warmth of his hands transferred into her shoulders and for a brief moment he swore he could have drawn her in close and slowly wrapped his arms around her and lend her his own bodily warmth - and nothing would have felt wrong. Instead he gently released his hands from her shoulders, content that she was going to regain heat anyway with the large blanket on and that such behavior would have been unbecoming of Vithkun in this situation.
"I will dry in due time, it feels like you need it more than I do." he said softly spoken.
|
|
Myralthrine Host
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 478
Age: 56
Physical Description: Avatar is accurate, 5'6 height.
Clothes and Equipment: Wanderers cloak in a material resembling vantablack in that it does not appear to be a real color. Beneath it she generally wears black leather boots to her knee, charcoal breeches and shirt, both fitted, and black bracers upon her forearms. She carries a morningstar upon her hip and satchel that crosses over her shoulder and chest.
Allegiances: None
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:13:41 GMT -8
|
Post by Myralthrine Host on Sept 7, 2018 3:44:03 GMT -8
A lump built up in the back of her throat rising to the top like a frog bouncing around attempting to come out but completely trapped by her clenched teeth. Clenched so that the questions did not come from her. She had many concerning his actions now, why he had come for her, why now he was showing her further kindness. Kindness not even her own kin spared for her at times. They were a hearty people not unlike the dwarves and believed in the merit of your family or own hands not unlike the elves. She was the lesser of their kind and like a beggar in their eyes that some might kick on the street. Occasionally she had known compassion but since leaving her own lands it had been little and far between. A beautiful woman if her skin had not been dark she would have been cared for. Bought drinks for in the tavern and spoken to in sweet nothings. Even pointed ears would not have prevented such admonitions. But it wasn't to be because she was tinged as if she had been brushed in a pale grey. Her eyes were like the other elves, her hair though impossibly light was not far from her cousins, and even the way she carried herself exuded the very grace they believed the drow did not possess.
That grace was not granted to her now. Not granted in the way she looked at him an expression of stark confusion as she tried to figure out what game he was playing. What prize he thought might be won or what favor he thought she might repay. Certainly this was not out of the goodness of his heart and yet he smiled at her. She wanted to cry or throw up and lingering on the edge of the knife she followed the pale blade to the tip attempting to find a third option by diving off there instead of falling off the sides.
Grasping the blanket at the edges thin fingers making her look child-like at its size she would refuse it gently even after the deed was done, "I cannot take this with good conscious. You have risked your own health by coming after me."
A fool. A part she did not add as she began to slip it off to hand back to him.
|
|
Vithkun Almear
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 437
Age: 84
Physical Description: Vithkun is a tall guy extending about 1.9 m in height and has long flowing white hair as is often seen in his family. He would appear to be around 30 years of age.
Clothes and Equipment: He is royalty and likes to show it which is why he wears a thing braided silver band on his head which value can likely not be descriped in mere numbers. In his travels he will go for his plated armor, one which is both extremely light and quite durable, enabling him to retain much of his agility. For more formal matters he prefers robes in various colors and patterns.
He carries his sword with him most of the time and it is a slim long sword forged by the elves. The metal - like his armor - is hard but light and the sharpness of its edge knows few peers. He carries a dagger of similar quality too.
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:46:39 GMT -8
|
Post by Vithkun Almear on Sept 7, 2018 12:10:39 GMT -8
However what met Vithkun was not gratefulness nor another muted 'thank you', no it was some kind of distrust and her excuse to why she couldn't take the blanket didn't match how she looked.
"Look..." Vithkun said and stepped close to her as he wrapped his fingers around the edges of the blanket gently closing it around her before she could properly take it off. "I should have invited you inside already when the clouds were gathering and not when you where drenched." Vithkun said and bit his lip. It was a hard one to admit but nevertheless this had been his mistake. "My drenched clothes are... a little reminder of not being stubborn." he said and sighed a bit.
They were standing close, and probably closer than they had before, Vithkun noticing that even as a drow... no, she downright was a beautiful woman as the single lantern that was lit illuminated her features softly and made her blue eyes appear deep and entrancing as the ocean and strands of her silvery hair glistened in the dim light. Right now she looked like any elf and Vithkun was surprised how he felt drawn in towards her and realized that he again had lingered for a moment. He released the grip on the blanket having closed it around her, reasonably sure that she would no longer discard his gesture.
It was an odd thing as he rarely shared his things with other people and though his moral codex would tell him to at least accommodate a dry spot for someone in need, going as far as to be selfish like this was unlike him. He could definitely have used the blanket as he too was drenched and - although not as cold - he wasn't exactly feeling warm. However he felt no regret letting Myra use the blanket.
|
|
Myralthrine Host
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 478
Age: 56
Physical Description: Avatar is accurate, 5'6 height.
Clothes and Equipment: Wanderers cloak in a material resembling vantablack in that it does not appear to be a real color. Beneath it she generally wears black leather boots to her knee, charcoal breeches and shirt, both fitted, and black bracers upon her forearms. She carries a morningstar upon her hip and satchel that crosses over her shoulder and chest.
Allegiances: None
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:13:41 GMT -8
|
Post by Myralthrine Host on Sept 7, 2018 21:04:43 GMT -8
As he re-wrapped the blanket in front of her pulling it back into place it was difficult to refuse him, especially at the distance he had placed himself at. His observations did not go unnoticed the way his gaze softened lingering upon her face as if daring her to refuse again. Stubborn pride in the forefront she wanted to do so immediately. To discard his gesture without a second thought but something about the way his blond hair framed him the strands soaked and falling heavily and the light sheen of water upon his skin told her she couldn't. He was giving up his comfort in order to reassure hers and to refuse it now would be downright insulting.
"I was stubborn as well," she admitted with less grace than he had but the slightest closed smile that only drew on her dimples as she stepped back furthering the space between them even as he did. The tent was moderately separated and she could lay far enough away and hidden by barriers where he would be unable to see her. It would also leave her alone with her thoughts.
Considering offering to share the thing it would place him much closer than she might have liked and either she would have to lay in his bed or he on the ground with her. Shrugging the idea off mentally she would cross over the blanket trailing behind her as she found her a spot and within a few seconds had made herself moderately comfortable. The low light would not prevent her from sleeping and even while soaked she was warm and would dry quickly laying on her side one arm beneath her head and her eyes closing again for the night.
|
|
Vithkun Almear
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 437
Age: 84
Physical Description: Vithkun is a tall guy extending about 1.9 m in height and has long flowing white hair as is often seen in his family. He would appear to be around 30 years of age.
Clothes and Equipment: He is royalty and likes to show it which is why he wears a thing braided silver band on his head which value can likely not be descriped in mere numbers. In his travels he will go for his plated armor, one which is both extremely light and quite durable, enabling him to retain much of his agility. For more formal matters he prefers robes in various colors and patterns.
He carries his sword with him most of the time and it is a slim long sword forged by the elves. The metal - like his armor - is hard but light and the sharpness of its edge knows few peers. He carries a dagger of similar quality too.
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:46:39 GMT -8
|
Post by Vithkun Almear on Sept 7, 2018 22:39:00 GMT -8
Vithkun smiled slightly and nodded leaving her to retreat into a more private corner of the tent. She couldn't help but remind him of a wet mouse creeping into hiding which was in stark contrast to the fierce lioness she had been when they met at the bar. It seemed there was frailty in her too and he couldn't help but think that she seemed uneasy showing her frailty. Vith sat down where he had stood and sighed deeply. For some reason he had felt he wanted to reach out to her yet it was so difficult to actually reach her and though she did accept his gesture he couldn't help but think it was with great reluctance.
For a while Vithkun sat cross legged in the tent musing about the last couple of days and even going back to earlier events when he was looking for clues to the jewel's whereabouts. He had to not lose focus on the matter at hand and since he had now satisfied his morals he reckoned he could go to sleep with a clear conscience and hopefully renew his determination in this mission. After all the meeting with the dwarves would be a huge task for him - one he hoped he didn't have to rely too much on Myra.
Feeling his clothes close to being all dried up, he put out the lantern and laid down listening to the persistent and rhythmical downpour aware of anything resembling danger outside. It was quiet and he could only just hear the muffled but deep breathing of Myra sleeping soundly. The sound seemed comforting and not long after he himself fell asleep.
|
|
Myralthrine Host
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 478
Age: 56
Physical Description: Avatar is accurate, 5'6 height.
Clothes and Equipment: Wanderers cloak in a material resembling vantablack in that it does not appear to be a real color. Beneath it she generally wears black leather boots to her knee, charcoal breeches and shirt, both fitted, and black bracers upon her forearms. She carries a morningstar upon her hip and satchel that crosses over her shoulder and chest.
Allegiances: None
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:13:41 GMT -8
|
Post by Myralthrine Host on Sept 8, 2018 6:16:00 GMT -8
Referred to as a mouse if his thoughts had been as clear to her as his judgments had been correct she might have balked at it. She was not meek or fleeting and did not hide away from predators. She faced them head on and though a lion was appropriate in her mind she preferred a smaller creature called a honey badger. The honey badger was intense, careful and yet careless, and really gave absolutely no mind to the will to the want of anyone else. So why was she on this so called quest to prove her worth? Did she care and want to be accepted or was it simply to prove them wrong? Before her breath came out deep and slow she was plagued with the indecision and his silence only egged her on nothing to distract her from becoming lost in the world of her mind.
Passing into an almost fitful sleep she drew in one breath and then released it. Steady and even it betrayed her state and she slept more comfortably than she had in some time. Out in the open like this she could never fully relax as she had to worry for her safety but something about Vith's presence and the blanket let her release some of the tension. Dreams came from that release torturing her mind in a different manner that her waking mind could not do.
Light on the horizon she shifted rolling upon her side still lost to the world but this time in a fitful state. Her respirations quickened becoming labored in her sleep as if she were exhausted in running all reserves lost to her rush. Her hands splayed beside her gripping the edge of the blanket which was now in disarray. Bolting upright her right hand outstretched before her every finger spread her knuckles turning white with the effort as her eyes spread wide her mouth twisted into an expression of pure fear.
|
|
