Deep Forest - Underworld
Deep within the southern portion of a nameless forest, you see a monolithic mountain rise out of its evergreen carpet into the sky. The top of the mountain is flattened and its surface black. It rises towards the sky in an almost accusatory fashion, a finger of stone pointing towards the clouds above. To the north a small, seldom used trail winds into the bowed depths leading to an unseen destination. The path ends here, but if one were willing to climb amongst the inclined stones, it might be possible to continue south. Beneath one's feet is a dark, ash filled soil which gleams with tiny pieces of red and white quartz. There is something eerie about the quiet stillness of this place, something out of place. Contents: Falyeril Rosewind
Rosewind reaches down and picks up some of the odd looking pebbles and lets them fall through her fingers. ** This ground is odd Faly **
Falyeril sends openly ** I don't like this place. Feels... strange. **
Falyeril sends openly ** These rocks are like I've seen in some places in the desert mountains. **
Rosewind nods to Faly ** I feel the same. But we must find food. ** She looks back and sniffs the air ** Something smells odd. **
Falyeril sends openly ** I don't think we'll find any game, here. Too quiet. **
Belynrath moves in, a shadow on shadows. His near-metallic silver hair the only indication of his presence. That and the faint scent of... mushrooms and wine, a soft, subtle, but sweet blend of scents. He felt sending. Strange sending. Elves he doesn't know. Warily, he moves, back to a tree, his right hand drifts behind him as he sends, eyes narrowed in the bright light of the stars above, **Darkness, strangers. Declare and show yourselves.** His send is tight, emotionless.
Falyeril jumps... ** Who's there?! **
Falyeril: Falyeril is a young elf, adult in body but still with a youthful air about him. He is obviously an active sort, tall (in RL terms a bit over 4 feet), lean and fit from being outside a lot. His eyes are as brown as his skin, but his hair is lighter than that of most Sun Villagers, perhaps due to occasionally forgetting to put his hat on. Falyeril normally wears clothing typical of the Sun Folk. However, he has recently been wearing a more Wolfrider-type of clothing, due to the colder weather at Lost Holt. His hat, though, still looks like a wolf cub teethed on it. Carrying: Gold Necklace
Rosewind: A lightly tanned female elf of about 3ft 7 inches, Rosewind has a lithe, strong build that announces her as a huntress. She has a feminine grace about her that is unmistakable as the gentle swell of her bosom. Her oval face is elongated at the top and bottom. Her facial features are delicate with her high cheekbones, small nose and cute pert mouth with full lips. Rosewinds eyes are moss green and her hair is midnight black and pulled into a tight braid. Rosewind is wearing a simple brown hide dress that stops at the middle of her thighs. Rosewind has a green hide jacket and around her waist she has a simple hide belt from which hangs a couple of pouches, full of different herbs and supplies. Rosewind is wearing on her feet brown hide boots that come up to just above her ankle Carrying: Rosewind's bow(#2047V$) Rosewind's spear
Belynrath: Standing at five foot five inches, Belynrath is tall and lean. His sharp, proud body betrays his youth, as his lines have yet to completely fill out. Topping his long frame is a long flowing mane of near metallic silver hair. The sides are pulled away from his ears by small, tight braids, which hold the hair from the top of his head back away from his face and out of his eyes. The braids meet in the center of the back of his head, coiling together like a swirling pool to form a small, braided bun. The bun is clipped by a small shimmering decorative clasp. It coils on the left, curving up then down as it moves right, ending in an upward turning coil, so that in the end, the overall design is symmetrical and even. His skin is pale and creamy white, and his lashes and brows stand out, sharp and dark silver, against his skin. His semi-round eyes are large and a clear crystal blue. The finest moss-weave cloth, made into a long tunic that is belted low at the hips, over matching straight cut pants, covers his graceful body. Slightly mottled, the gray-black shirt is high necked and long sleeved. The belt at his hips is decorated with small upturning coils, gleaming brightly in the dim light of the caves as the light reflects off the miniscule chips of diamond, which were used in the decoration. Covering his arms and broadening his shoulders is a pure black, thick leather coat, hanging in heavy folds to his ankles. Its sides are open, allowing Belynrath free movement of his arms. On his feet are soft gray-black shoes, softer than whisper soft against the ground upon which he walks.
Rosewind freezes in her steps as even her weak sense picks something out of the trees. Reaching back for an arrow she figures she will only get one shot at the new food. Notching her arrow she nearly jumps out of her dress when she realizes it is behind her and she turns quickly, her eyes trying to peer into the darkness. At the greeting she hesitates and looks back to Faly before trying to seek out the form ** Shade. ** She sends to the unklnown voice. She ties not to shiver in the cold.
Belynrath tilts his head as in this almost too bright light, he can clearly make out the two shorter elves' features. So strange. So dark! Both of them... Wait, he's darker! Like a shadow himself. Shade? His youthful curiousity wins out, even though he notices the weapon-type item in Rosewind's hands, **I am Belynrath of House Jaersendo, heir to my house, and son of Verlaan, Lady of Jaersendo.** There is a slight pause. **Shade? What is shade?**
Rosewind blinks at Faly's send and takes a few steps back from the dark figure as she aims her arrow at him ** And Underworlder! So close to the HOlt? ** she glances back and forth uneasily. She means this dark elf no harm but she doesn't trust him either. ** We are hungry and were hunting for food. ** Her eyes flicker everywhere at once as if expecting many more dark ones to jump out of hiding.
Belynrath's eyes narrow dangerously at the weapon, now pointed in his direction. Move or not... He debates as he sends, **Yes. I'm from the underworld. I assume, then that you are not? I have never seen a surface worlder before.** He pauses, and studies the two, his eyes more used to the light than before, **Hungry... I have some rations, if you like, but you have not returned the curtesy of the greeting which I have already extended you. Are Surface Dwellers that rude?**
Falyeril sends openly ** Not rude. Just cautious when startled. **
Rosewind nods to Faly and turns her attention back to the dark one. ** We sent the standard greeting of Shade dark one. We are not rude. ** She lowers her bow but keeps the arrow notched and at the ready ** Are you alone dark one? I am Rosewind. ** She is about to introduce her hunting partner but decides against it for the time. If he wants himself known to the dark one he will do so. ** We seek food for the den. **
Belynrath regards the two, hands still on the half-drawn hilt of his dagger, behind his back. **Ah... Shade is not a greeting I am familiar with. I do hope you can accept my apologizes in that regard. As for my present status, yes, I am alone. Perhaps we can... reach an agreement. You turn your weapon from me, and I release the hold on my knife, so we may greet each other as is fitting.**
Falyeril sends openly ** I am Falyeril. I am one of the Sunfolk, from the village of Sorrow's End. We have a greeting, there, 'Shade and sweet water,' which most elves who have come in contact us have taken up as well. **
Rosewind Tilts her head and studies the dark one ** Belynath you said your name was. I have lowered my bow from you already. You will understand if we are a bit cautious. We had to go further than we normally do. ** She takes a few slow steps closer ** What is this underworld you speak of. ** She turns to peer at Falyeril. ** Is this the kind you told me of? **
Falyeril nods, trying to survey the surroundings without being obvious about it.
Belynrath returns his dagger to his sheath and steps into the light from the shadows, his hand drifting to the side. He suddenly realizes... how ...tiny they are! **The Underworld is my home, where I live. 'Shade and Sweet Water' is, aside from the water portion, a strange greeting indeed, Falyeril. As for game, I know of none here.** With the knife rehidden, he appears weaponless, defenseless. As he moves into the starlight, his metallic hair gleams and his frosty crystal blue eyes shine like stars.
Falyeril sends openly ** Looks like it's pine nuts after all. **
Rosewind studies the elf curiously for a time before looking around, not quite trusting that he is alone. She sighs at his report that there is nothing to hunt. Not liking the idea of a diet of only pine nuts she tries a differant tactic ** Are there any birds in your woods Belynrath? ** Rosewind's eyes flicker through the trees searching for something with feathers before glancing to Faly and windering why he's so cheerful when she is shivering.
Belynrath blinks a few times. **Pine nuts? Sun Village? Birds?** He shakes his head softly, stepping fully into the light now, **These are terms with which I am not familiar.**
Falyeril sends an image of each item in turn.
Belynrath hisses, the first sound he has uttered, and brings a hand up to his face, as if to shield his eyes. He backs away at Falyeril's sending of the Sun Village, in all its peaceful glory, at midday. He shakes his head lightly, as tears come, unbidden to his eyes, **Stop. I see it!**
Falyeril sends openly ** Sorry... **
Falyeril is surprised at this reaction. He knows Underworlders prefer the dark, but has seen them brave the day.
Brave the day! BAH! Not when they've never /seen/ the day! Belynrath pants lightly, trying to speed his recovery from the mental sunburn. **Great Darkness below, how can anything /live/ in that?!**
Rosewind blinks at the dark one and looks to Faly then slowly moves to close the gap between her and Belynrath ** We sleep mostly during the day. Then we stir and move about at night. Well most of us do anyway. My friend here is mostly a daywalker. ** She watches Belynrath for a time ** Are you well? **
Falyeril sends openly ** We elves are an adaptable lot. I've even met one from a tribe which lives in water. **
Belynrath reaches up to remove the tears from his face. His eyes readjust quickly and he nods to Rosewind, watching her closely, **I am well, my thanks for your concern, Rosewind. I think I understand a bit better.** He glances over Rosewind's head to peer at Falyeril, **lives in water... Interesting.** He glances back down at Rosewind, **If you are hungry, I again, offer my rations. It is not so long a journey for me to my home, and I have plenty of food there fo rmyself.**
Rosewind , not liking how the dark one towers over her, stands her full height and lifts her chin. Yeah. That helped ALOt. ** We appreciate your offer of rations. We will take them back to the den. ** Rose looks around for something to stand on that will make her appear a bit taller. Finding a nice size rock, she moves over to stand on it. The rock adds a whole three inches to her height as she tries to seem taller than that.
Belynrath watches the tiny little elf's antics. Unable to help himself, he starts to grin. He fights the laugh back and his features go cold and blank again, as his hands move to a pack on his back.
Falyeril rolls his eyes... ** Actually, we're not just hunting for ourselves. In this season game is scarce. The Holt isn't hungry just now, but I don't think you'd have enough to feed all of us, even so. However, your offer is appreciated. **
Belynrath pulls out some mushroom cakes and holds them out to Rosewind, **Then at the very least you can use these to stay out longer.**
Stripes has arrived.
Stripes: Stripes is a female adult wolf. She is all a smoky gray color all over her, from the tip of her nose to the tip of her tail, except for two dark lines that run down her sides from her shoulders to her tail. Stripe's eyes are golden and seem to glow yellow as the light hits them just right. Calm and placid most of the time she is affectionate towards almost ever elf. Only aggressive when she absolutely needs to be she is a true friend and companion.
Rosewind stands on her tip toes and accepts the offerings. ** Thank you Belynrath. ** Losing her balance on the rock, her arms windmill in the air before she tumbles backward and lands with a thump on the odd looking pebbles. ** OUCH! ** she gets up rubbing her rump and daring anyone to laugh as she looks over her bow.
Lifefire lands easily on the ground by Stripes.
Lifefire has arrived.
Falyeril dives for Rosewind but doesn't make it, and nearly falls himself. ** High Ones! Are you all right? **
Stripes somes walking in slowly with Lifefire on her back. The male elves sees the elves fall and raises an eyebrow before he looks at the other elf. Stripes bares her teeth and growls at Belynrath as she remembers the last underworld she met.
Belynrath watches Rosewind fall, standing over both her and now Falyeril. His send holds only a minial amount of worry for the elven woman, as if he didn't care for her one way or another, **Are you alright?** Hell, it feels like that question was a formality and nothing more. He turns at the growl, however, his hand flying to behind his back and he moves away from all the elves here, quickly, **Darkness,** he sends to the Lifefire. He is tense, ready to fight or run.
Lifefire 's has his bow drawn and an arrow nocked as quick as lightening, ** What are you doing? ** He frowns and has his arrow trained on Belynrath as Stripes continues to growl her furs up.
Rosewind frowns as if she can sense amusement at her discomfort. She does smell something that makes her smile and she looks over to see Stripes and her bondmate approaching. Hearing the growl coming from the wolf she shakes her head ** I'm fine Faly. She mives to stand between Stripes and the dark one ** It is alright Lifefire. He has done us no harm. ** She stand between them with Lifefire's bow aimed at her.
Falyeril sends openly ** It's okay! She was standing on a rock to take something from him and fell... **
Belynrath keeps his gaze, cold, unwavering, on Lifefire and that bow. His eyes are narrowed, hand behind his back, other hand before him. He is tense, and ready for anything. He hopes.
Lifefire sighs and slowly lowers his arrow before he sends to his bondmate. Stripes calms down but continues to glare at Belynrath. Lifefire takes a deep breath, ** I don't mean you any harm, just Stripes is wary of new elves. Especially underworlders. There was an incident back at Sorrow's End and when I saw you go to draw a weapon I just reacted. **
Belynrath relaxes himself, **I heard a beast. I too reacted.** His hand comes forward from his back, empty, **My apologies then, and Darkness to you. I am Belynrath, heir of Jaersendo, son of Verlaan.**
Rosewind senes the situatuion is calming and moves to stand by Lifefire. Giving Stripes a scratch on her ears she turns to Belynrath ** Thank you for the rations Belynrath. We will need id to feed the den. ** She holds the food down to Stripes as if she might want to sniff it for something. Rose may be naive, but she is a cautious elf, for one so short.
Falyeril sends openly ** Lifefire, did you have any luck hunting? We were about to start looking for pine nuts. **
Lifefire nods, but keeps his distance, ** Ayooah, I am Lifefire. You will forgive me if I don't come closer, the last time I got close to one, I almost was exiled. ** He smiles at Falyeril, ** Of course, but just enough to feed Starfall, Stripes and myself. **
Belynrath nods to Lifefire, **And I from your beast.** He peers at Stripes, **What... is it?**
Falyeril grins. ** They don't call that type of elf Wolfrider for nothing. **
Lifefire smiles proudly, ** Stripes is a wolf. ** He gently scratches the wolf's ears and chuckles, ** Yep. **
Rosewind listens to the cnversations as she looks over her bow. Knowing the rations won't be enough ** Do you know of any running water around here Belynrath? Perhaps I could cath myself some fish. **
Belynrath blinks and repeats the foreign thought, **Wolf.** He studies Stripes, **What a strange creature this wolf is. Are they are so...** He is interrupted by Rosewind. He blinks, as if startled by that, but gives a deadpan reply, **Yes, but I would not take you, as it is far too close to my home, and there are elves there more dangerous than the sound of that wolf there.**
Lifefire looks at Belynrath, ** So what? ** He does nod in agreement, ** Yes some elves can be more dangerous, have you ever met an elf called Shivra. **
Falyeril sends openly ** Well, if there were running water near here, we would hear it in this silence. **
Belynrath shakes his head to Lifefire, **No, I have not heard of such a name.** He watches these surface elves with interest, as if he'd never seen one before. He does not reply to Falyeril.
Rosewind nods and sighs ** I understand. We thank you for what you have given though. ** At all the talk of dangerous elves she keeps her bow at the ready and peers around trying to smell others. She looks to Faly **Perhaps we should explore further into these woods and try to find water? **
Lifefire looks at the underworlder, ** So what may I ask are you doing on the surface? Underworlder like to stay in their caves unless they have a good reason to come out. **
Falyeril looks around at the silent trees, and shivers a bit. ** I think we've gone too far already. **
You know, it seems as if Belynrath has just gained a shade or two of color on his pale pale cheeks. His reply is distant, **I am searching for a gift, something rare and unique, for ... a Lady.**
Lifefire hmms, ** Perhaps I can help. I have some metal goods that I made from Sorrow's end. Bronze, copper, gold and some soft iron. **
Lifefire adds, ** I have some that have beautiful stone in them. **
Belynrath pauses to consider, **We have plenty of metals and stones. Though Falyeril sent an image, now that I think back, of a land the color of her eyes. I think, something small, would be best. And certainly not a weapon of anysort.**
Lifefire: Lifefire is an elf of regular height, about 4ft 2in. He has a slim but muscular build. Lifefire eyes are sky blue eyes and his hair is a light blond color. On the hair on the top of his head is roughly combed to the right side. The back of his hair goes down to the base of his neck and on the sides the hair is a medium length stopping at the bottom of his ears. Lifefire's face is an oval shape, with the top and bottom being slightly longer than the sides. Lifefire is wearing a green and tan hide short sleeve shirt. His pants are the same earthy colors as his shirts. On Lifefire's right side there is a quiver full of arrow. On his left is a troll made knife and slung over across his chest is his bow. On Lifefire's feet is a pair of brown hide boots. Around his neck is a small red stone hung on a hide cord, his good luck charm. Carrying: Starfire Lifefire's bow(#2043C$) Lifefire's knife(#2044V$)
Rosewind moves to huddle closer to the furry wolf as she shivers in her short dress. The warmth of the wolf offers some comfort as she ponders Faly's comment ** We may have gone far, but not far enough to find enough food to feed the den. ** Her eyes go to the trees. **Maybe we can fins something hiding up there. **
Lifefire looks down at Rosewind, ** I think you need to get into your whitecold furs. ** He nods at Belynrath, ** Okay, I was just offering. ** Lifefire looks at Falyeril and then back at Belynrath, ** What ws the color? **
Falyeril sends openly ** We can certainly look around this area. That is, if Belynrath thinks the Underworlders won't mined. **
Falyeril sends openly ** I sent him images of pine nuts, Sorrow's End and Birds. **
Sadly, his hunt for the perfect trinket will have to be laid aside, won't it? Belynrath answers Falyeril first, **They will might, should they find you. And the color... was a gold, like citrine, like I've never seen. <>
Falyeril frowns, thinking of the desert colors. He feels a bit homesick, but pushes the thought asside, trying to think of something that color available here.
Lifefire chuckles a little bit, ** I have some sand in the pack that I keep my goods in. I could go back and get you a handful of it. **
Falyeril sends openly ** Is that the sand you use for casting metal? **
Rosewind nods to Lifefire. She doesn't mention that she traded her whitecold clothes away for food before she went to the Holt. Rosewind stuffs the rations in a pouch before burrowing her hands into the wolfs fur to get them warm. Not knowing anything about Sorrow's End, she remains quiet for know.
Lifefire shakes his head and grins, ** No just some left over sand from our journey to this Holt. **
Falyeril shakes his own head, but he's not grinning. He simply can't believe Lifefire carried *sand* here. Of all the...
Belynrath notes Rosewind's predicament. He's going to get introuble, he knows. Ah well, the things a lordling must do to remain curtious. He moves, a fluid motion, and dropping the pack from his back, whisks his leather overcoat from his shoulders, exposing the near-white, blousy moss-cloth shirt underneath. A step forward, and a drop to a knee, he offers the cloak to Rosewind, **I will require it back before I return, but for now you may wear it, to keep yourself warm.** He glances up at Lifefire, **Sand... If you would send what it looks like...?**
Lifefire smiles, ** I can do better then that. ** He looks at Rosewind and frowns for a moment, ** I will be right back. ** Stripes wheels around and starts off back to the Holt.
You locksend ** And may I ask that you return with something warm for the maiden? ** to Lifefire.
Belynrath glances at Lifefire, still astride Stripes, as he moves away, a private thought between them.
Lifefire locksends ** I was all ready going to do that. Thank you for your concern of my lovemate. **
Rosewind steps back quickly, thinking the dark one has changed his mind and has decided to attack. Realing he isn't she steps farward and sniffs. Not sensing any danger she reaches out and pokes at the cloak before taking it gingerly in her hands. Fiannly the cold gets the better of her and she wraps it around her. She still shivers but the chill seems to be lessoning ** Thank you Belynrath. I will return it before I leave. ** She looks down, not wanting to meet Lifefire gaze from his private scolding.
Locksent to Lifefire: Belynrath blinks mentally, **Lovemate... You are welcome, and I assure you I meant no disrespect for it, and I apologize for anything that might cause you concern, for I knew not she was your lovemate.**
Falyeril watches the Wolfrider hurry back to the Holt and shakes his head (yes, agagin). He's still pretty flighty, despite his recent maturation.
Lifefire locksends ** It's okay, Rosewind and I have an open relationship. **
Belynrath nods to Rosewind, and remains knelt, studying the surface elves again. Now, he is of a height with Rosewind.
You locksend to Lifefire, Belynrath seems confused as he replies, **Open? As in public?** He pauses, **When you return, Lifefire. I have many questions.**
Lifefire comes back with a bear fur blanket and a small pouch. He gets off of Stripes and the she wolf moves over to Falyeril. Lifefire wraps Rosewind up in the furs and holds the pouch out for Belynrath.
Lifefire locksends ** No. Open as we are not exclusive to one another. We sometimes join with other elves, but our hearts are true to each other. **
Belynrath gives Lifefire a rather strange look as he takes the pouch. It seems the two are talking privately, though he thanks Lifefire aloud, **My thanks.** He opens the pouch slowly.
You locksend ** You.. share? Is that not dangerous?** ** to Lifefire.
Rosewind feels herself getting warmer in a short time. She sniffs at the cloak and her nose twitches. Sniffing again she looks to the dark one. ** Do you drink alot of wine Belynrath? I have heard that Underworlders get surface dwellers drunk from wine then cause mischief for them. She stand on her toes and smiles as it makes her just a tad bit taller for a short time. When Lifefire returns she smiles as he holds out a bearfur for her. Removing the borrowed cloak she sniffs it once more before returning it ** Thank you Belynrath. I will remeber you as a friend if we meet again. ** She hands it to him before bundling up into the bearfur.
Falyeril absently skritches Stripes.
Belynrath collects his cloak, and sets the pouch down to don it once more, replying, with the briefest tiniest of grins on his lips, and a blush on his cheeks (aww!! how ADORABLE!!) **I do drink wine, yes, Rosewind, though I did not realize it's smell so soaked my clothing. I shall remedy that. My thanks for mentioning it. As for mischief, I know not. You are the first surface elves I have seen, though I am glad for it.** He pauses, **Friend... is a somewhat.. awkward a term for my people.**
Falyeril sends openly ** I can't smell it. Wolfriders have good noses. **
Lifefire chuckles a little and nods, ** I could smell him before I saw him. ** He frowns at Rosewind's statement. ** It's true Shivaru got me drunk and then hung some ravvits I had killed in effagie above teh Hall of Memory. Then he blamed me. **
Belynrath blinks. What an odd and disguisting thing to do. His send is fort-right and shows this, **I shall not do anything of the sort, but something confuses me... Smell?** he points lightly to Faly, **You can not smell, **He points next to Rosewind and her lovemate, **As they can? How is that possible?**
Rosewind reaches into her pouch and takes a small piece of one of the rations. She sniffs it cautiously before nibbling. She chews slowly before smiling ** This is not bad. ** She holds it out for Lifefire to try as she looks back to Belynrath. ** I do not draw my bow on friends dark one. So I will call you friend if we meet again. **
Lifefire smirks, ** He's a sun folk not a wolfrider. **
Falyeril sends openly ** I told you, elves are adaptable. **
Falyeril sends openly ** The branches of our kind have lived apart for so long that we have become different. **
Belynrath regards Rosewind as if she said she was a purple-skinned human with tenticles. **Friends... then. Remarkable.** His send is full of wonder. **That you would so easily call me that.** He glances at Lifefire, **So he said. But what has that to do with sense of smell? Other than the skin tones, I see no other differences.**
Falyeril sends openly ** That is their tale. Mine is that my people went deep into the hot, sunny desert to escape humans, and learned to live there. **
Rosewind scowls and sniffs the air at the mention of humans. She almost expects a hord of blunt ears to jump out of a shadow. Tightening her grip on her bow she cast about with her gaze warily before looking back to the dark one ** What is so remarkable. You have shared you food and the gift of your warmth from your cloak. That is what a friend would do. **
Lifefire smiles, ** A High One named Timmainn to survive shaped herself into a wolf...." Lifefire tells the tale of the wolfriders and how they came into existance. He tells about bonding wolves and being parnters with them. Lifefire tells about the Way and finishes by explaining about how come their skin is lighter then Falyeril's, but darker then Belynrath's because they lived in the forest.
Belynrath actually sneers in disguist, **She mated with a beast?** Ew! The very thought seems almost to cause him to wretch. Ew gross yuck! He shakes his head, **That's slightly better than mating with a /troll/!**
Lifefire frowns, ** She was a wolf. Mating is the Way. It insure the continuation of the pack. **
Belynrath shakes his head again, lightly, not trying to argue, **It.. seems only... a little extreme.** He looks up, **But.. if that is what must have been done to survive...** He thinks, **A brave elf, I say she was, to sacrifice so much.**
Falyeril chuckles at apparantly nothing.
Falyeril sends openly ** This was something which happened after many eights of eights of Turns. **
Lifefire smiles and nods, ** Yes Timmain was a very brave elf. She didn't sacrificed anything. She gained a lot. Better vision, hearing, smelling, faster reflexes. She didn't lose much. **
Falyeril sends, wistfully ** I wonder where she is... **
Belynrath regards the three surface elves, and actually smiles softly, though a somewhat reserved looking expression for these surface elves, in his home, it would have been brighter than the day star. It certainly is the most pleasant expression he's had this entire conversation, **So I see.**
Rosewind listens to the conversation as she cast about for blunt ears. She has been itching to try her new bow on the fowl things. She nibbles on the food and leans close to Lifefire.
Lifefire wraps his arm around Rosewind and holds her closer to him.
**And lovemates,** Belynrath questions shortly, **Are... an admired thing?**
Falyeril stops himself from yawning, and looks around. SR ** I have enjoyed meeting you and talking to you, but we really do need to find at least some more food. **
Rosewind smiles and nuzzles against Lifefire's neck. Warming her cold nose she hugs and looks over to Faly. ** we really do need to find food before we return to the den. **
Belynrath watches Rosewind nuzzle, in facination, like he's never SEEN affection before. So that is what Lovemates look like... Intriguing.!
Lifefire shivers, "Brr, your nose is as cold as Stripes." He chuckles and looks at the pair, "have you two checked the holt's stores?"
Falyeril inncently sends ** Stores? **
Lifefire nods, ** In the roots of Father Tree. **
Rosewind giggles and warms her nose some more ** Must be the wolf in me. ** when her nose is warm enough she gives Lifefire's cheek a lick and tursn her attention around the small gathering ** We didn't want to take anything from the stores unless we had to. **
Lifefire chuckles and nuzzles back, ** You are right. ** Stripes nose picks up a scent and she goes trotting off.
Belynrath blinks at the lick and seems shocked that anyone would /do/ such a thing. Then he's shocked again, that anyone would allow it... He seems to ponder something, then returns to staring, wide-eyed, almost like a child.
Rosewind glances over to see where Stripes is going ** You don't think she might smell blunt ears do ya? ** This to both elves as she gets her bow ready and checks the tension on the string. Rosewond doesn't seem to be awar of the fact that the dark one appears to be studying her.
Lifefire shakes his head, ** No, I think she smells whitetail. She is following the scent right now. ** He licks her back and grins at Belynrath, ** What's wrong? **
Belynrath takes 'blunt ears' in as well, not understanding it. He sees that weapon again and tenses, hand starting for the small of his back. Friend, she said, true, but friend in the underworld is... well.. He does not take his gaze from Rosewind's bow, **Nothing.** His send is tight, nervous, wary.
Lifefire looks at Rosewind, ** Put down the bow there are no humans about the holt and even if there was we wouldn't hunt them. **
**At the moment,** Belynrath adds, almost as an afterthought.
Rosewind sighs a bit when Lifefire says it isn't blunt ears,. She tries to cover by shifting her feet in the odd looking pebbles. ** Well maybe I should go help her. **
Lifefire shakes his head again, ** She is fine on her own, she hasn't found any whitetail yet and will let me know when she does. **
Belynrath peers. The weapon is put away, yes? He watches, eyes slightly narrowed, hand visible, but poised for his knife. White tail? Now what in the Great Fall's name is a White Tail? The question is almost etched on his face.
Rosewind frowns and loosens the tension on her bow. ** You're right. I hope she finds something. Nightstalker injured himself and I need to find him something to eat. ** Drawing the fur tighter around hr she glances down at the strange rocks before leaning down and scooping someup in her hand and trying to figure out where such stones might have come from.
Lifefire looks at Belynrath and smiles, ** Whitetail. (sends an image of a deer.) **
Belynrath takes in the image, **And that.. is food?**
Lifefire nods, ** Yep. **
Belynrath nods, his lips pursed in thought. He continues watching the lovemates, facinated by them.
Rosewind smiles at Belynrath and nods ** It's very good. You should try some. It's best raw. But Faly likes to burn his meat. **
Lifefire makes a face, ** I still can't stomach the smell of burnt meat. It's a waste. **
Belynrath blinks. Raw? His slight look of disguist says it all. Hey... it's just like Lifefire's look! Isn't that adorable? n.n
Rosewind grins ** At least we know he doesn't eat pork anymore. ** She chuckles and gives his cheek a lick before looking off in the direction stripes went.
Lifefire chuckles, "Poor Falyeril, he will never live that down."
Belynrath startles and drops back to his rump at Lifefire's spoken voice. The look on his face... like Lifefire had killed someone, or done something else incredibly horrible!
Lifefire looks at Belynrath and shakes his head, "I know your rule."
Rosewind smirks ** Not while I'm around anyway. ** Her attention goes to Belynrath and she watches him curiously for a time before she steps faroward and extends her hand tohelp him up ** Are you well Belynrath? **
Lifefire looks at Belynrath and shakes his head, "I know your underworld rule about talking."
Belynrath's gaze flicks between Life and Rose, and he moves away from the offered hand, **Don't touch! If you know the rule, then don't speak! I am no troll!** There is... almost distrust in his send, and most definately disdain.
Lifefire sighs, "Just because I know the rule doesn't mean I am going to follow it. You are on the surface now, I would get used to it. Some elves in Sorrow's End can't even send."
Rosewind blinks at the dark one and steps back ** I meant to harm Belynrath. I only meant to offer aid. ** She looks to Lifefire with a quizzical look ** What rules? **
Lifefire continues to talk, "Oh just some silly rule that only trolls talk and only elves send. There is nothing wrong with talking. It's an underworld thing, like howling is a wolfrider thing."
Belynrath shakes his head and stands quickly, **Stop! Have you no respect for an heir to a Great House! Send as an elf! Don't growl as a beast or troll!**
Lifefire snorts, "Great House what's that?"
Belynrath fights to calm himself, breathing deeply. **It is a house that sits on the Council.**
Lifefire nods, "Oh. Well if I am ever in the underworld I will make sure I only send, but seeing as I still have sky above my head, I think I will continue to do as I please."
Belynrath fights his instincts... Trying to remain calm at the rudeness being idsplayed.... He's being spoken to... verbally.. by an elf!
Rosewind glances between the two elves. Sensing another incedent coming she snaps her head to glare at both elves ** Both of you stop this Right this second! ** She looks to Lifefire wondering what he is upto and gives him a poke in his ribs ** You be nice love. ** She glares at him and sends privately.
Lifefire stands up and lets out a howl. Stripes comse racing up to her bondmate out of the shadows. "I am growing tired of talking to the underworlder. I think a hunt is in order? What do you think love." He looks back at her and almost shouts, "Let them come. I am tired on underworlders and their stupid rules. Elves are free to do as they want. Talking is no offence. Troll breath air, should we stop because we share breathing too." He mounts up on Stripes and looks at Rosewind, "Coming."
Belynrath lets out a soft shout himself, and moves to cover his ears! He shakes at the noise, at the sound, and the uncivil nature he is seeing, and he hisses softly. **AH1 Stop your insuffereable shouting, beast!**
Rosewind stares at her lovemate at his outburst. Knowing his background with underworlders she turns to Belynrath. ** it was nice to meet one of your kind Belynrath. I hope I vcan call you friend if ever we meet again. ** With that she turns to Lifefire and mounts up behind him on stripes. Tucking the fur around her legs, she slips her arms around his waist.
Lifefire tilts his head back and lets out a deep throaty howls. "AYOOOOOOOOOOAAHHH!!!" Stripes continue in with a howl of her own, ** Better to be wild and free then slaves to the Underworlders. **
Belynrath drops to his knees at the full-blown howl, hands over his ears. Unable to stop himself, he cries out in shock, fear, and ear-pain.
Lifefire tries not to laugh as they ride away, he knows it was cubish to do that, but it felt good to get some revenge of on the underworlders.
Rosewind looks back to the underworlder and watches his actions. Thinking that her lovemate may have gotten them in trouble, she hugs him tight to her and waits for other Dark elves to surround them.
Lifefire climbs up on Stripes.
Rosewind climbs up on Stripes.
Belynrath looks up through the ringing of his ears, watching the surface elves mount the beast. He seems.. confused.
From Stripes's back, Rosewind turns back to Lifefire and pokes him hard in the side and nips his shoulder roughly.
Belynrath's eyes widen at Rosewind's actions.. She .... bit him? But... they're... Lovemates?? right?
From Stripes's back, Rosewind removes her arms from Lifefire's side ** He would have done no suchj thing. He was kind to me when I was shivering from the whitecold. **
From Stripes's back, Rosewind stares at her lovemate's back and lifts her chin stubbornly ** You acted like a bluntear. **
From Stripes's back, Lifefire turns back to her and nods, ** Yes he would have, they are all alike. He would have tricked you into being his slave. ** He hugs Rosewind fiercely to him. ** I couldn't bear to live without you.
Belynrath blinks.. slave? He hates the word. He's never been anything but honest... When Lifefire hugs, he starts to understand... Love... is that what it's like? Will he ever know such... wait... he does... Didn't Cirksa nearly destroy her reputation becase she was afraid... he was hurt... This has given the young lordling much to think of.
From Stripes's back, Rosewind tries to remain stubborn but she feels Lifefire's concern and softens just a bit ** You still wronged him. He was kind and you acted like a blunt ear to him. You owe him your appology. ** To prove that the dark one meant no harm she reaches into her pouch and breaks off another bit of the offered food and nibbles on it thoughtfully. ** It's actulla quite good. **
Belynrath watches the interplay, rubbing at his stilling ringing ears, thankful Lifefire has stopped howling. He did stop right?
From Stripes's back, Lifefire looks down at the ground and nods, ** You are right. I shouldn't have howled that loudly, but I just got so made when he tried to tell me want to do. I am not his to command around. I am no one's slave. How is he to say what is right and wrong? ** He glances over to Belynrath and hugs Rosewind tightly to him.
Belynrath watches Lifefire again... Right and wrong. Here and there. Elf and troll. Love and hate. Too many thoughts....
From Stripes's back, Rosewind smiles at her stubborn lovemate and retuns his hug as she nuzzles and licks his cheek ** Are you not always telling me to not go hunting the bluntears because not all of them are bad love? **
Belynrath watches. She licked again... Like... like a kiss??
From Stripes's back, Lifefire blushes and nods, ** That I do, but humans are dangerous. Almost as dangerous as unsworlders. ** He licks her back and contineus to hug.
Danger? Yes... Many of us are that... Cirksa. Lord Goumando. Lady Gouman... Belynrath blinks several times, watching, his hands moving away from his ears as they stopping stinging, the rining in them still there.
From Stripes's back, Rosewind sighs and runs her fingers over Lifefire's cheek ** He has acted like a friend to us. Now SAy you are sorry for what you did or else... ** He knows what the or else is.
Those fingers... that caress... The same. Belynrath flushes lightly as memories come, unbidden, to his mind.
From Stripes's back, Lifefire nods, ** Yes love. ** He gets off of Stipes and hands Rosewnd his bow, quiver full of arrows and knife.
Lifefire lands easily on the ground by Stripes.
Lifefire moves over to Belynrath with his head bowed, ** I am sorry for howling loudly and hurting you. **
From Stripes's back, Rosewind holds Lifeifre's things as she watches her lovemate move over and appologizes. She nods approvingly.
Lifefire sighs at a private send from Rosewind, ** And if there is anyway I can make it up just let me know.... ** He quickly adds, ** But I am not becoming your slave. **
Lifefire nods and holds out his hand, ** Appology accepted. **
Belynrath looks down at the hand, and back at Lifefire, **My people do not touch so readily, and as there is tension between us...** Instead, Belynrath stands, places his right hand over his heart, as if touching it, then to his lips, then his forehead before bringing it down to stop over where Lifefire's own heart would be.
From Stripes's back, Rosewind looks to Belynrath. She caught his play on words and narrows her eyes ** To yourself? But what of another? Would you force another elf to be a slve in any conditions? **
Belynrath looks up at Rosewind. He smiles softly, **I am glad you are so quick of mind. No. I will not willing do such a thing, however, there are elves more powerful than I, and those that can subterfudge the mind. I will make no allowances for what they would force me to do.**
Lifefire pulls his hand back and narrows his eyes for a moment at Belynrath. He snorts and moves away as he dislikes being tricked, even by accident.
From Stripes's back, Rosewind watches the dark one as she starts to get tense ** Perhaps my lovemate his correct and you are keeping us here with your kindness while your kind surround us. And want kind of Elf would force another of his kind to do something he doesn't wish to do? **
Belynrath sighs softly, **Many in my world, sadly, but no, on my honor I know of no others here. I have not heard nor felt the touch of their minds, but I can not be sure. There are also many who are skilled in moving unseen, unnoticed. It is best you should go. I thank the both of you. YOu have given me much to think on.**
Lifefire walks back over to Rosewind, ** Evil, cruel elves, that are lazy and stupid. ** He looks around and looks down at Stripes, ** Stripes nose is keener then any underworld mind, she would know if we are surrounded or not. **
From Stripes's back, Rosewind nods at Lifefire's comment about Stripes ** I need to get back to Nightstalker. He is hungry. ** She turns her gaze back to the dark ** It was a very interesting meeting Belynrath. ** She shifts back so that Lifefire can mount easily.
Belynrath nods to Rosewind, **As it was for me. Again, my thanks.**
Lifefire mounts up on Stripes without saying a word and takes his weapson back.
From Stripes's back, Rosewind tilts her head ** Thanks for What Balynrath? **
Belynrath sends openly ** For an interesting meeting, and one I don't I shall ever forget. **
From Stripes's back, Rosewind perks up at Lifefire's send and her stomach rumbles as she sniffs the air and grins.
Lifefire urges Stripes off as both rider and wolf are eager to leave.
Belynrath watches the surface elves leave, his eyes still holding so many questions.
Stripes heads along the northern trail to Lost Holt.
Stripes has left.
Logfile from Two Moons - Belynrath
Falyeril, muttering under his breath, walks into a small clearing and finally spots some familiar landmarks. He gives a quiet sigh of relief.
Falyeril sends openly ** Well, at least they won't have to send out a search party. There are times I really wish I had a Wolfrider's nose... **
Belynrath had been hunting around for something again. Hearing the soft muttering, he moves into a deep shadow to watch. Ah... sending. Well, at least it's an elf!! Belynrath starts slightly: a familiar elf! He stys hidden, hand on his dagger until, in the light of the star-filled night, he can make out Falyeril's form. **Darkness, Falyeril,** comes the emotionless and typical underworld greeting.
Falyeril jumps! He did _not_ want to get caught in this area by one of the Underworlders, especially alone. Oh, well...
Falyeril sends openly ** Shade, Belynrath. **
Falyeril tries to spot the Underworlder, but is having little luck.
Belynrath seems almost to ooze from the shadows just to Falyeril's right side. He dips his head in a light nod, **What brings you back here?**
Falyeril shivers a bit. He's never had problems with Underworlders, but always before he's met them with others around. ** I saw something here which I wanted to get a good look at during the day. ** Laughs a bit. ** I don't see as well in the dark as the Wolfriders, and their vision at night isn't as good as yours. **
Belynrath glances about the dark of the night, **I see. Well, it is not day now, so if you would like me to find it for you...** The imcompleteness of his send... it feels as if he should have added, 'for a price.'
Falyeril sends openly ** Oh, I found it. There's an outcropping of rock in the distance which looks very like one near Sorrow's end, and I wondered if it also came from a volcano. I just stayed too long. Too much idle curiosity is one of my flaws, or so I've been told... **
Falyeril is casually walking towards the trail north as he chats.
Belynrath moves, ghostlike, to Falyeril's side, giving the poor, blind Sun Village the chance to see him fully. **Yes, curiousity can be a flaw, and one I am well familiar with.** There is... almost... a hint of disappointment in his send. But feelings and emotions are so difficult to sense from this elf.
Falyeril manages not to start or cringe away. There's nothing in the sending or the manner which is threatening, but still... He continues walking north.
Falyeril sends openly ** Nice, clear night. Be a hard frost by sunrise. **
Belynrath looks to the north, to those trees, **Frost.... Sunrise. There are such strange terms on the surface.**
Falyeril is glad to have something to talk about. ** Frost is when the air and ground are colder than ice. The water in the air freezes out directly, in a fine, white powder. **
Belynrath takes in the thoughts, the near-images of that, and allows a soft smile to lightly brush his features, **A wonder.** He follows by Falyeril's side, keeping in mind the locations and things he's passing. He's steps are as soft as a Wolfrider's in this great big world.
Falyeril is is just calmly walking north. There's no hurry, nope... ** Snow is different. It's like frost had formed in the air and clumped together. So instead of forming directly on cold surfaces it falls from the sky in flakes. Unless the wind is blowing, then it blows around. ** Faly is as much testing how much of the surface Belynrath knows as anything.
How much Belynrath knows of the surface, huh? Seeing as this is his first... second trip, he listens with rapt attention. **Snow,** he repeats, letting the thoughts of that item swirl in his mind, as snow on a light winter wind would.
Falyeril sends openly ** I knew of snow from a distance, back in Sorrow's End. There are mountains in the distance which are high enough to keep snow on their peaks for most of the year. But I never saw it up close until I came to Lostholt, a bit over a Turn ago. **
Falyeril suddenly pauses, as something occurrs to him. ** Say, how do you Underworlders measure time, if you don't keep track of the star cycles? **
Belynrath blinks. How do we? **Sleep cycles, the time between wake and wake.** That's about as close has he can puzzle it out. It's ingrained, and not something he thinks about, or thought about until now. So many questions!
Falyeril frowns, chewing his lip. That makes many of his other questions futile, then. He resumes walking north, but now actually _is_ doing so casually...
Belynrath peers at the trees, watching his surroundings closely, **This area holds such an alien beauty...**
Falyeril nods... ** We have trees in Sorrow, but only a few, and much smaller. I'd heard talk about forests all my life, but until I actually saw one I didn't know what they were. Now, I think one of the few things I will miss when I leave here is trees. And climbing them. ** This last is sent with a grin.
Belynrath blinks and peers up a tree, suddenly, looking at it in a different light, **They can be climbed?** The wonder in his thoughts, barely poking its head into sense, shows that the thought had not occurred to him until it was mentioned.
Falyeril sends openly ** Some more easilly than others. I like to climb, but back home I did it on the rocks in the area. Here... **
Belynrath nods, **There are no rocks, and so you found the next best thing.** He's so intrigued by the idea, but makes no move to climb anything.
Falyeril winces a bit, suddenly realizing that he's given this particular Underworlder reason to look up, and maybe lost the Wolfriders an advantage. ** Well, there are difference. Cliffs don't usually sway in the wind. **
Only admiring the trees, until a wind blows, and moves the branches. What an excellent hiding spot. Belynrath moves his eyes on, but is now watching the treetops ahead as well as the sides. Falyeril's right of course, rock doesn't move in the wind, and the stoic underworlder, stumbles, toe catching on a rock as he becomes somewhat dizzy from the motion of the branches above.
Falyeril starts again, then sees what happened. ** If you want to look up for more than a glance, you need to stand still. Or even lean against something.
Falyeril sends openly ** From my limited experience with cave I know they're very still. Out here, most things move. **
Belynrath pauses, looking to the ground, to steady himself, **So I see. A moment, if you would?** Oh.. how the worldturns!!
Falyeril stops, watching, just a bit concerned.
It doesn't take the lordling long to recover his balance. When he has, Belynrath stands straight again, and looks to Falyeril, **My thanks, Falyeril. I can continue.**
Falyeril nods and resumes walking. And wonders how far the elf will go. All the way to Lostholt? Well, it's not like the Underworlders don't already know it's there. ** There are also many more animals out here than there are in caves or tunnels. And some are large and dangerous. Of course, some are small and dangerous. **
Belynrath nods, **Even the smallest and prettiest of things can be far deadiler than anything else.** It seems, this comes from a touch of experience. Belynrath continues to follow, peering about in the near-darkness.
Falyeril chats on quietly about some of the creaturs which live in a forest. Not lying, (which is supposedly impossible with sending) but not missing opportunities to make it seem like a somewhat more dangerous place than it really is. Soon, though, they come to a particular landmark. ** Ah! There's the trail. Have you been in Lostholt yet? **
Belynrath shakes his head, but replies, **And nor would I arrive within your home without permission of its Lord or Lady.**
Falyeril nods. ** Yes. The Wolfriders do tend to be rather... territorial. **
Belynrath nods, **As do my people. I should go no further, then.** It seems, there is still something he's looking for.
Falyeril nods again. ** Since I've been accepted, and you're with me, I doubt there would be any problem taking you into any of the public areas, but if it would make you uncomfortable... well, there's no need. Is there anything else you wish to ask about? I need to get back soon. The others will be wondering where I am. **
Belynrath pauses to consider, **Only that, though I am thankful for the gift of... 'sand', it is not exactly right. I am still hunting for my present.**
Falyeril sends openly ** Well, Lifefire makes some good metal items and brought them here to trade, though he only has a few left. There are many others, here, who also have items to trade. And there are some who would be glad to offer suggestions for things which you could trade for or find or make yourself, in return for more information about you and your people. I'm not the only one with much curiosity. **
Ah.. there's always a catch, isn't there? **I should return,** is all Belynrath says, void of emotion, it speaks volumes.
Falyeril sobers, wondering if he's somehow offended Belynrath. ** If you need to contact someone in Lostholt, you can come here or a little closer and send a greeting. There's always someone on watch. **
Someone... on watch... Troll dung! Belynrath slides into a shadow, **My thanks, for all your help, Falyeril. I shall keep all that you have said in mind. Clear tunnels to you.**
Falyeril sends openly ** Smooth path to you. **
Belynrath creeps away silently, again empty handed.
Falyeril's Gold Necklace: A fairly simple necklace of native gold nuggets flattened and shaped into disks and joined together with iron wire. However, the centerpiece is a teardrop-shaped piece of amber with an embedded wasp. The amber is turned so that the insect looks outward, as if examining the examiner.
**That!! That's it!** the send ripples from the shadows. Belynrath steps forward once more, hand extended to indicate the necklace, **That color.. her eyes are the same... And.. a creature within it...?**
Falyeril jumps back a bit, startled at the sudden passion. Then realizes what the other elf is talking about. ** Uh, yes. Amber often has things in it. It is a form of hardened tree sap. It flows over things - even insects and small animals - and traps them, then hardens. **
Tree.. sap? **Like blood?** Belynrath kneels to better inspect the thing.
Falyeril sends openly ** It's a plant's blood. Some trees have thick sap. Amber smells like the sap when rubbed. **
Falyeril steps over to a pine tree and uses his knife to cut a small nick, deep enough to release the piney scent of the sap.
The blood... of a tree... a thing which grows only here. At the drawing of the blade, Belynrath tenses, but as it is used against a tree and not himself, Belynrath watches with interest.
Falyeril sniffs the sap, partly to make sure and partly to demonstrate, then steps back.
Belynrath blinks. Smell... He moves over and touches the tree's wound. Yes... same consistancy... same warmth, almost. He brings his fingers to his nose. **What.. an odd scent.**
Falyeril sends openly ** I have seen others here with amber. I don't know if any have some to trade, but you could ask. **
Belynrath narrows his eyes, wanting to train nothing. He'll not purchase this gift, but find it himself. **My thanks.** How distant that send it.
Falyeril sends openly ** I've never seen amber in the wild. I traded for this piece. I have no idea where to find it. **
Troll dung rotting in a bright cave! Belynrath stands, rubbing the sap from his fingers, noting how like blood it is, sticky. **I shall watch for it then.**
Falyeril nods, puzzled by the other's odd mood swings.
Falyeril sends openly ** Oh, I should have warned, you. That doesn't come off easily. Even water won't touch it. You have to scrub with sand or cloth or soaproot. **
Belynrath glances down at his fingers as he backs into a shadow. Just great. As if he's not going to be in enough trouble. **Again my thanks. Clear tunnels and darkness always.**
Falyeril sends openly ** Safe journey back. **
Belynrath returns home. Travel spam removed.
River Cavern - Underworld(#2158RAJLa) This cavern is even larger than the Glittering Cavern. It is kept alight by phospherecense and some odd fungi that casts a green glimmer over the area. In the center of the cavern is a river, actually just a large stream, that is crossed by several bridges of rock. Pillars of natural stone support the high ceiling, and between them, on can see the entrances to various dwellings for many of the tribe. Stalactites and stalagmites rise to embrace, though some have been shaped into furniture. The river winds from an impassable opening to the north, southwards to a cliff. Next to the river, between two of the bridges is a low wall made of stone, which has been lade together not shaped. A large chasm has opened up in a large section of the floor of the cavern. To see a list of caves type '+view caves'. Obvious exits: West (W) Downstream (S) Upstream (N) Northeast (NE) Contents: Tarrant
The rushing of the river hides the sound of Belynrath's shadow-kept entrance. He slides in, back to a wall, fighting desperately to remain hidden in the shadows, as he was taught, and peering about the cavern for occupants.
Tarrant leans against a wall, hidden in the shadows, very good hidden... He lingers almost there, knowing where Belynrath went to, or at least guessing it, but he can almost smell the surface on him. A send emerges from the shadows, a piercing one, **Ah, grandson...** he sends softly, **Have you been... on a trip?** His eye glance in the shadows as the are drawn to a soft smirk, like his lips that curl in his face.
Belynrath freezes. Oh flaming troll warts, can /nothing/ go right for him today. Ah well, truth is usually the best policy. Belynrath slides over to his family cave, replying, **Yes, I was. I'm back and going to bed.**
Tarrant smirks as he slips out of the shadows, stepping in front of Belynrath. His hands are folded on his back and his gaze is graceful. **Yes, indeed...** No longer holding back what he knows. **What was it like? Was it day?** His eyes glance as he says it. **Or no, night... ah, the nights... the most pleasure ones...**
Belynrath fights his urge to blush, **Yes, it was night time. So many diamonds, high up, they glittered without number.** He rubs his left hand on the hem of his leather cloak, tryingto be discrete. **It was cold, and a shrp wind blew always.**
Tarrant remains as calm as he always is, so he can almost feel what Belynrath describes. **The taste of the surface is a bitter one, grandson... don't even try to be there as often as you'd like to. It is indeed very dangerous.** His features close up for merely than a second and then his gaze becomes eloquent again. **And now you want sleep...** Pondering he looks at Belynrath, still standing in his way. **Tell me, grandson... what have you been doing there?** He sends a trusting and warm send, and with it the sense that Belynrath can trust him...
Trust him? Belynrath isn't certain, but replies, **Just looking for an item.**
Tarrant chuckles slightly as Belynrath sends his uncertainy, but fast he looks concerned at his grandson. **Ah, yes, looking for an item... as always... Tell me, grandson, I will tell no one.** Seemingly interested it really seems as if he has no reasons to tell someone, and why shouldn't it be interest?
Belynrath gives in, and glances to the side, dropping to a private thought.
You locksend ** A gift, for Cirksa, for the Goumando Celebration. ** to Tarrant.
Tarrant locksends ** Oh, I see... how special, I hope she knows how dangerous that was... Your efforts are an honest one, little one.. do you love her? **
Why does everyone ask me that, Belynrath nearly rolls his eyes and sighs at his Grandfather, but controlling himself, and not wanting to speak publically, he motioned to the house, **Can I invite you into my chamber for tea or something grandfather?**
Tarrant nods slowly and smirks again, following Belynrath. **Oh yes, tea sounds good.** he replies
You locksend ** She doesn't know yet, nor will she, I hope, until the Celebration, if I can find it in time. I found what I want, but must find a piece that is... right.** ** to Tarrant.
Belynrath leads Tarrant into Belynrath's Room. Travel spam removed.
You move through the entrance to Belynrath's room.
House Jaersendo - Belynrath's Chambers(#7523RCh) The room is large, yet comfortable, well lit, for an Underworld area, by large globes of glow-moss which hang in stragetic corners. A large stone bed seems to ooze out of the far corner; the stone of it buried by mounds of velvety soft moss-weave blankets and pillows. The curtain to the bed area is only half drawn. Across the room from the bed is a large semi-circular stone table. It too seems to flow and ooze from the rock floor beneath it. Carefully molded chairs wait around the table, as stoic as guards, only their soft moss-weave cushions look inviting. To the left of the entrance, shaped into the very rock of the wall, are numberous shelves. Upon these rest trinkets and statues. One piece of particular interest is so only because its round, perfectly circular shape, is shoruded by cloth. Under the shelves, sits a large heavy-looking chest. It has upon it a large heavy stone lid. The stone work through this room is actually very simple. Little seems to detract from the simple yet graceful flow of the architecture of this place. Obvious exits: Out (O) Contents: Tarrant
Alekesh arrives from the Main Cavern for House Jaersendo.
Alekesh has arrived.
Alekesh can only ask the question, why the heck would he come in here?
Tarrant nods towards Belynrath, thanking him. **See, grandson... you are like a son for me... You can come with everything that bothers you to me, your mother will not know of any words passing between us.** Oh, how true, if Belynrath would just know... His graceful steps take him to the chair he always sits on, sitting down and waiting for the tea.
Softly steaming liquid pours from the pot in Belynrath's hands into the small tea cups. That done, and the pot laid aside, Belynrath finds his small sweets stores and sets those out, moving about his room and serving his grandfather as easily as a servant would. **Can I, grandfather? It seems everyone I would confide in would either run from me, or stab me.**
Tarrant smirks under his cape. **See, grandson, there was a time, long ago, when I used to life on the surface... and loved. I know how you feel.** He touches Belynrath's hands, looking at him. **Thank you for the tea.** He takes the cup, blowing over it to make it a bit cooler. No sugar, as always. The steam floats up, like the eyes of Tarrant and then he lets go of Belynrath's hand. Oh, he has something in mind, but it is true that he will not tell Verlaan.
Belynrath blinks. Tarrant.. he knows about... **Tell me about it. Please?** He, likewise, drinks his straight, as is, though seems not to enjoy it.
Alekesh locksends ** You're back... Leaving without notice tends to worry some, you know... Especially those who can lose their head for not knowing about it. Nevertheless, may I come in? (Touched with humor, if not forced a bit as the topic matter isn't too funny) **
Belynrath glances up suddenly, a send from another touching his mind. He grins, blushing lightly. **I'll have another guest, Grandfather.**
You locksend ** Of course, Alekesh. My apologizes for not informing you sooner, it is a delicate matter. ** to Alekesh.
Tarrant blinks and rests back, waiting for the new arrival, not daring to tell of his experiences that he remembers from the surface.
Alekesh steps slowly through the doorway. Once inside giving a slight bow to Belynrath and Tarrant. He didn't expect there to be others... but surprise isn't obvious on his face. ** Darkness, Heir Belynrath, Lord Jaersendo. **
Belynrath nods to Alekesh, **Darkness. Tea?**
Tarrant raises a brow at Alekesh as he enters the rooms of Belynrath... what is he doing here. **Well, grandson, I will tell you later... you need to let your own experiences rest for now before you can fill up another glass.** He smiles faintly at Alekesh, taking a sip from his cup and wondering that Belynrath offers Alekesh tea... but well, maybe they are friends.
Alekesh forms a light smile. ** Please. ** He eyes Tarrant only momentarily, his curiousity stifled by the knowledge that his business isn't for him to know, therefore pointless to bother giving thought to it.
Belynrath seems almost happy to serve tea. You know, for the heir to a house, that's a really ODD thing, isn't it? Belynrath pours another cup of tea for Alekesh, motioning to a chair, **Sit, my guard, I know you had some worries, which, if you like, I will clear up now.**
Tarrant sits back and watches.
If Alekesh is not making it too apparent, you can imagine he'd be surprised that he's being offered a seat. A little uncomfortable for one whose type is expected to give higher ups ample space and utmost privacy. Either way, he hides it well, slowly taking the givin seat. ** That would be most kind of you to do. **
Belynrath smirks lightly, **It's the least I can do. Though I wish you had been there when I visited Lady Goumando.** Is that... embrassment in his thought? OY! What did Belynrath get into without you?!
Alekesh's face takes to a fairly worried look. ** Lady Goumando... I'm not sure I'd wish that. (Cynical undercurrent) But do continue. **
Belynrath sighs and sits back, **Don't worry, Mother already got after me for it. I was injuried from my training with Jenesek. She offered to heal me. I didn't think it through, and she offered in a way that would make not only myself but Jaersendo look rude if I refused.**
Alekesh hmm's ** So you accepted... what a fine person to accept healing from... ** his sending also seems a little preoccupied with how you'd manage to get injured too. But supposes it's not really important... it is the surface after all. Everything up there's hazardous...
Belynrath nods, **So I learned.** He takes a sip, **Oh, and if Lady Juraido ever comes calling, do allow her in after you check with me.**
Alekesh thinks that abrupt change in topic is a bit strange indeed... ** After I check with you... and what of Lady Jaersendo? **
Belynrath looks up, **Mother? She knows, and is not opposed to Cir... Lady Juraido's visits, in fact, I woouldn't hesitate to guess that Mother would encourage them.** A slip of the mind, to use Lady Juraido's given name...
Alekesh doesn't seem to think twice of it. ** I see then... Then I shall do that. ** At least Alek seems the trusting sort. ** So you were injured in training? It was no fault of Jenesek's, I would hope. ** Certainly, incompetence on his part while with you would not go over well with many.
Belynrath bobbles his head, **Yes and no. If I failed in a skill, I paid for it, making the fault partially my own.**
Alekesh nods ** So it goes... so long as he's not putting you in any type of overly dangerous situation then. One would hope he'd know that which he teaches at least... **
Belynrath nods at that, **He does, Alekesh.** He stands and moves to a section of wall near his bed, **I am glad you are here though. I need your aid and protection, my Guard.**
Alekesh hmm's ** You do, eh... From what, if I may ask. **
Belynrath collects a dark metal bottle and returns to the table with it, **Your aid in staying watching over me as I harden my mind to this drink, and your protection from everyone, even myself, as I drink. I know that guards tend to drink things of a stiffer nature, and so, to provide me with more, if you can. I must have enough tolerance before Goumando's celebration.**
Alekesh and Belynrath spend a brief moment drinking tea, as Belynrath decides against the wine for the time being.
Back to the present:
You locksend to Cirksa, Belynrath's touch is light, almost afraid, **Cirksa?**
You sense in a locksend, Cirksa sends wordless acknowledgement. I'm here. what do you have to say?
You locksend to Cirksa, Belynrath almost loses his nerve, but presses, **I have need to apologize. May I... join you for tea.. or wine.. or something of the sort?**
House Juraido - Great Hall(#9770RJL) As you enter the stately caverns which form the home of the House Juraido, a sense of openness nearly replaces the claustrophobic grip of the stone so present elsewhere in the Underworld. Above you, the ceiling rises to a majestic height, a vaulted arch lifted by beams of stone which runs the length of the hall. Set into the face of each pillar along the walls is a small sconce, containing a bit of softly glowing moss which contributes to the lighting of the chamber. Between the supporting beams lie several archways, which lead outward from the great hall to other chambers within the House. While the majority of the chamber is bright enough for even a surface dweller to make out the contours of the hall, the archways are cast into deep shadows which hide most indication of their contents or where they may lead. Several tapestries decend along the walls where there are no passages to other chambers, depicting events from the past in mutely reverential tribute to the solemnity of this ancient House. One can even hear, faintly, the tones echoing from the Cavern of the Winds, which sound very much like the melancholy playing of a simple flute. Contents: Cirksa
Belynrath steps in, flanked by Juraido's guards. He looks about with a touch of wonder. He's never been here before.
At the far side of the Great Hall there is a tall chair, ornately carved and elegant as the lady which sits upon it. Cirksa is at her seat of power, leaning back in her chair and against one of its arms with her chin upon her hand. Her other hand rests on the opposite arm of the chair holding a tall goblet of carved rock crystal filled with a dark red liquid. "Leave us." she directs the guards.
If ever there was a classic moment of jaw-dropping, Belynrath's found it, as his jaw drops lightly at the sight before him. At her spoken voice, the spell is broken, and he shudders lightly, bringing himself up straight, and moving to stride forward as the guards and servants bow and leave quickly. Coming to rest before the dias, Belynrath drops to kneeling, and waits for acknowledgement.
Cirksa shakes her head just once ** stand, Belynrath, you are not my servant to kneel at my feet. **
Belynrath stands, and replies, **But I am a young child, that must show reverence for a Noble Lady.**
Cirksa stands herself with a rustle of skirts and paces past you with her wine glass, toward the great dining table of this once powerful House. ** Would you like some wine? **
Belynrath turns gracefully, watching Cirksa move, **If it pleased you, My Lady.** The reply is formal, distant.
Cirksa reaches the table, there is a bottle and a set of glasses arrayed about. She sets her goblet down to pour another. ** But would it please you, Belynrath? ** she shakes her head again, ** You were going to appologise, I believe? ** she turns to face you again, holding the newly filled goblet.
Belynrath nods, **I must, Cirksa.** He looks at the goblet, his gaze dropping from her face, delicate, beautiful. **As for pleasure, yes, I do enjoy wine.** 'But not for reasons you might think, beloved,' he adds silently.
Cirksa nods just once and extends her arm, offering you the glass of wine. ** speak your appologies then, best to get that out of the way. ** House Juraido is unusual, compared to a lively House with many members such as Jaersendo. The hall is great, the sculpture and archetecture beautiful, fine tapestries upon the walls... but no footsteps, no sound of laughter or music disturbs these ancient stones, just the faint murmur of trollish voices in the distant servant's hall.
Belynrath takes the glass, fumbling over what he wants said, **...I'm sorry, about seeming to fling... all this about... so carelessly....** He faulters. What the heck /was/ he going to say?
Cirksa doesn't help. She just stands there, impassively listening. She reaches behind to the table and takes up her goblet once more, taking a demure little sip of the surfaceworld wine.
Surface world wine... This is something new to the young lordling, and when he gulps, expecting troll-wine or Goumando wine, he sways lightly and is forced to shake his head. Okay, maybe building a tolerance to wines to get everyone else drunk isn't going to work out the he way he was planning... What was the question? Oh! Apologies... er... **... I...** He fumbles again and turns away from Cirksa, trying to sort things out.
Cirksa takes a long, slow sip of her wine and sets the goblet down again with a little 'clink' of crystal against stone which almost seems to echo in the cavern. There is a small pause as she looks down at the goblet... then over at you, her sending, when it comes is soft... very light ** Do you understand why I was upset? **
Belynrath's shoulders are tense with the thoughts, the worries that now with his back to Cirksa... Wait, there, in his leather... a carefully mended section, under where his heart is... He replies, the feeling of it quivers lightly, **I do. It was... stupid.**
Cirksa sighs, placing her palms flat against the table, not looking at you for the while. What a strange pair talking to each other and facing blank walls. ** I lost face. It is one thing to be a weak House, quite another to have it so publicly shown. ** She shakes her head and straightens up, pacing away from you again. ** Where there is great feeling, there is great danger. ** How many times has she said that phrase these past few months? ** Great danger... perhaps I should listen to my own advice, hmm? **
Belynrath brings a hand to his forehead, trying to sort things out. **But what is life without risks...,** Belynrath questions himself or the cavern at large. He looks up, as if the ceiling will give him the answers he seeks, **Juraido lost face, though my own doings. It is something that must be resolved, and fixed.** He glances over a shoulder, back as his white-gem, **What can be done to fix this, Cirksa?**
There is a low bench set in an archway between two openings leading to other caverns, neatly arrayed upon it is a familiar set of equipment, a silver double-hoop for stretching fabric, several coiled balls of thread. The Lady Juraido takes up a pale cloth from the bench, smooths it thoughtfully ** It is not your actions which so displease me as my own, Belynrath. You are young... that in itself makes some irrationality excuseable, but I am the Lady Juraido. ** she turns to face you again with a small frown. She paces toward you. ** This is yours. ** it is the scarf, finished.
Belynrath turns and blinks several time. What was he expecting when he heard the sound of metal? He looks from Cirksa's face to the scarf. Made with her own hands. He moves not to take it, **It is a gift, I fear, I no longer deserve.**
Cirksa walks closer, closing the distance between herself and you to a few short paces and holds out her gift. ** Is that not for me to decide, young Jaersendo? **
Belynrath looks up into Cirksa's face, those eyes... so like the gift he saw that he now longs to acquire. **It is, My Lady.** There... there it is again, the slight lean on the word my. He reaches up to take the scarf, fingers brush against fingers.
Is that the slightest tremor in the lady's hand as your fingertips brushe against hers? Surely not. Cirksa steps back, letting the scarf drop upon your hands and goes back to the table and her glass of wine. ** It was a foolish design to keep this matter a secret... ** there is more but she does not say it. Too many things have been said alloud too rashly.
Belynrath nods, **I agree. We lay all things to rest, then, at Goumando's celebration. The question then becomes...** He moves and lays the scarf over his shoulder, and drapes it over his neck. His pause, hidden by wrapping the silken fabric about him, is used to close his eyes slightly and rub the Cirksa-scented item against his face. He continues, **... what gets said, and how?**
Cirksa takes up her goblet, looking at it thoughtfully ** I would have thought we had passed the point of no return some time ago, young Jaersendo. ** she takes a drink... a healthy swig, nearly draining the glass.
Belynrath nods and looks up, **We have, but there are... details... nuiance.**
Cirksa sets the goblet down with a decisive little clink and refills it ** Such as? ** she prompts, then glances over to see if your goblet needs refilling as well.
Belynrath has only taken a gulp of his wine, and he moves over to the table, **Hell if I know at this point. It's all I can do, this thinking straight.** His shoulders drop, almost in defeat.
Cirksa mms and murmurs ** At least I have the satisfaction of not being the only one having difficulties. ** she more falls into the chair at the end of the table than settles into it, a movement expressive perhaps of just how many glasses the Lady consumed this evening. Her tolerance is just fine, thank you.
Well, if you can't get beaten by them with a leather whip... Belynrath downs the rest of his goblet quickly.
Cirksa leans forward, setting her elbows on the table's edge and dropping her head onto her palms with a sigh. ** I am faced with two choices... prove myself a weakling, a foolish girl who snaps to decisions for love of a pretty face, or admitt to attacking a more powerful House with no good reason. In both instances I am a fool... though the one is a less dangerous fool. **
Belynrath stops suddenly, **What if it... wasn't your fault?**
Cirksa frowns, looking over at you ** THen whose fault would it be, childling? yours? **
Belynrath turns to Cirksa and nods, **Certainly. I'm too young to know better, you said so yourself.**
Cirksa arches a brow incredulously ** You forced me to act stupid against my will? Hardly believeable. ** she gestures toward the bottle, help yourself, and takes another healthy drink of her wine.
Belynrath shakes his head, **Not forced... ** He moves and pulls up a chair, sitting close enough for knees to touch, **Think. What are you trying to gain out of this. Well, Jaersendo, obviously! With an alliance there, there's nothing that could stop Juraido's return to glory. And then, there's me, witless, brainless, just a face in need of direction. Direction coming from on outside source is dangerous, far too dangerous for you... ** He sits back, his mind turning quickly and he brings a knucle to his teeth, his eyes narrowing in thought, **The trick is to imply that, and not get troll-footed about it all....**
Cirksa's brow furrows delicately as she looks over at you, across the table, the bottle and goblets... so very close to the truth. ** That you have made yourself very important to Juraido... important enough to risk my good name to keep you safe. **
Belynrath nods, and looks over, and almost waves it off, his sending so fuzzy already, **Or something like that. What do you think, Cirksa? Could it work?**
Cirksa nods, just once. ** It could. Diplomacy is a delicate sort of warfare.. harder to weild than long sword or halbred. And the best lies always have a kernal of truth to them... **
Belynrath holds out his wine glass for more. He always does his best plotting while his glass is full... the trouble comes in remembering it the next morning, **Of course they do..** He grins lightly, his eyes almost bright, if somewhat wine hazed, **...that's why I'll answer with nothing but honesty. You've gotten permission to court me... I'm starting to fall for you... Everything's working out according to plan... All that...**
Cirksa pulls the stopper from the bottle and fills your glass for you, wondering if you are too far into your cups to notice the small honor of having the Lady of a Great House serve you. It is with a small sense of deja vu she asks ** Do you fear me, Belynrath? **
Belynrath drinks his wine. Yup... too far gone it seems, **Most definately.** He looks up from the drink, to wink. WINK!? **But there's desire in there too, isn't there?**
Cirksa tilts her head back, downing an impressive amount of the sweet, surface brew. But then, she didn't learn to drink with ladies and lords. She sets the goblet down and rises ** Your cut has healed I see. ** She steps around the corner of the table, closer to you.
Belynrath blinks and looks dumbfounded, **Cut?**
Cirksa leans against the edge of the table next to you and reaches a hand out to brush against your neck lightly ** from the sword. **
Belynrath blinks. OH yeah! He brings a hand up, brushing into Cirksa's fingers in the process, **Seems so...**
Cirksa is suddenly closer, leaning toward you, one hand down on the arm of your chair to brace herself as she brushes her lips against that tender spot on your neck.
Ooooh.
That abot sums up Belynrath's thoughts on the matter, and setting the wine goblet down, he reaches out to scoop Cirksa into a pile on his lap without thinking about it much at all.
Cirksa hesitates a moment, then leans back to look down at you from such a close vantage, she runs her fingers lightly down your cheek ** You've not made this easy for me, Belynrath. **
You.. leaned back. Belynrath, in his mild drunken stupor, actually frowns slightly, before pulling with all the strength in his young arms. One word floats free from his mind, **Good.**
Cirksa's brows raise at the forcefulness, pulled closer, you can feel her breath warm against your neck as she sends ** Is this any way to treat a Great Lady? You are fortunate there are no witnesses, young Jaersendo. **
Belynrath blinks... Treat... witnesses..? He glances about, then relaxes his grip, forcing his mind steady again, **My... apologies... Ci.. My Lady.** He glances at the wine goblet, **I've had too much too fast.**
A smile flashes into existance briefly upon the Lady's face ** Yes, you have. ** and she kisses your cheek softly, a pause and she kisses the other cheek as well for symmetry. A small sigh ** You are a dangerous wine, my young lordling. **
Belynrath grins, a goofy little expression, and reaches up to tap Cirksa's nose, **So are you.** Does he have /any/ idea what he's talking about at this point?
You sense in a locksend, Cirksa's mind touches yours and for a moment you can sense her own wine-softened thoughts, there is frustration, anger, a small fear that it is already too late, but that is just an undercurrent to the heady scent of desire the need for an escape.
Cirksa leans forward, very slowly and sets her lips against yours.
Belynrath quirks his brow at a private thought, then, has he's being kissed, replies privately, his arms tightly about Cirksa's waist.
You locksend to Cirksa, Belynrath sends an image of the Dark Forest, the stars above, the trees all about, the wind, the scents... **Let's go?**
Belynrath nods, and reluctantly breaking the contact, he gingerly sets Cirksa on her feet, continuing his private send.
You locksend ** Something dark, I think you should wear? ** to Cirksa.
Cirksa nods ** A moment... it shan't take me long to change. ** she touches her fingertips to your cheek once more, looking at you oddly for a moment as if she might say something more... and then she shakes her head and paces away, moving through a heavily beaded and embroidered curtain on the far side of the hall. Well you rascal you, now you know which room's hers ;)
Alone? Fantastic. Belynrath's drunken stupors fades in a blink, replaced by an almost sinister grin. Scooping up the half drunk goblet, he sips a bit more, and closes his eyes, the smile fading. Openning his eyes a heart beat later, he turns back to Cirksa's room, and downs the rest of the wine, grinning and letting his eyes glaze over again.
Cirksa does indeed return quickly. No genteel lady to spend hours arranging her hair and clothing. The doorway which admitted a Lady in a long flowing gown devulges a slender figure swathed in the dark fabric of an assasin, only those bright eyes peering through the cloth mask she is still adjusting tying this figure to the previous one. ** Do you need a mask? ** a practical question of course.
Belynrath stands and lets his eyes drape over that slender figure....**Mask..** his mind kinda lingers on the word, though it's clear his mind is... elsewhere. **Sure?**
Cirksa just so happens to have an extra. She tugs her mask strings once to make sure they are tight and raises her hood before fishing the second mask out of one of this very practical outfit's many pockets as she approaches ** It would not do to have your face burned by the light ** she unfolds the small bit of fabric and holds it out to you.
Belynrath takes the mask and fumbles a moment with the strings before he manages to get it... **It should be night time....** Of course, how would he know that...?
Cirksa steps around behind you, nice and close, to help with those mask strings, of course. ** better to be prepared, hmm? ** she brushes your hair out of the way of the strings so as not to knot the silvery locks with the ties.
Belynrath starts to nod, but feeling the mask getting secured back, he lifts his hands to hold the mask into place with one hand. The other pulls the scarf from around his neck free. **... Prepared..**
Cirksa pauses, looking at the nely exposed neck... and brushes her fingertips along the delicate flesh. ** Would you kill me, Belynrath, if our Houses fell to war? **
Belynrath turns, reaching under his black cloak to tie the scarf at his waist, **Now, why would I want to do that, Cirksa? I don't you already, I don't like killing.**
Cirksa replies with another question ** And if I asked you to kill me? **
Belynrath's eyes widen slightly, as his head tilts...
You locksend ** Why.. why would you ask that? ** to Cirksa.
Cirksa's fingers tug at the fabric of your cloak, adjusting it to sit more properly ** There are worse dishonors than death... ** she lets the send trail off and shakes her head, stepping back. ** Come, before I loose my nerve, hmm? I can already feel the wine fading from my mind. ** She turns for the door.
Belynrath nods, and follows, close on your heels... to keep from getting lost... or to keep you from running...?
On the way there...
River Cavern - Underworld(#2158RAJLa) This cavern is even larger than the Glittering Cavern. It is kept alight by phospherecense and some odd fungi that casts a green glimmer over the area. In the center of the cavern is a river, actually just a large stream, that is crossed by several bridges of rock. Pillars of natural stone support the high ceiling, and between them, on can see the entrances to various dwellings for many of the tribe. Stalactites and stalagmites rise to embrace, though some have been shaped into furniture. The river winds from an impassable opening to the north, southwards to a cliff. Next to the river, between two of the bridges is a low wall made of stone, which has been lade together not shaped. A large chasm has opened up in a large section of the floor of the cavern. To see a list of caves type '+view caves'. Contents: Jenesek
Cirksa arrives from the northeast.
Cirksa and Belynrath arrive together so very coincidentally from the Cavern of the Winds. Dressed for travel to the surface. (well, that's one bennefit, he might not know it's us with the masks and all... )
Speak for yourself, Cirksa! Everyone's used to you wearing white, while Jenesek... hell the whole cave knows I wear a black leather overcoat. Just like this one right HERE.
Well, there might be, but then again, Jenesek isn't all that easily fooled. A disembodied voice echoes in your minds, seeming to come from the wall. ** Going on a spot of vacation, Belynrath? Or is it a... working weekend? ** Oh yes, that's Jenesek allright. You can tell by the slithery tone.
You locksend ** Not now, Jenesek. ** to Jenesek.
Belynrath grumbles softly, sending to each in turn.
You locksend ** Keep going... ** to Cirksa.
Jenesek locksends ** Do you presume to order me about, Apprentice? **
You locksend ** No, Master, but this is.. a delicate matter.... ** to Jenesek.
Cirksa arches one pale brow, looking at Jenesek and then back at Belynrath as he sends to her. The wine must be making her thoughts run slowly for a moment she just stands there indecisive... but, the young male's continued on so she follows.
Indeed, Belynrath has continued, his step almost harrying Cirksa out, through the shadows, and to the north.
Cirksa glances back over her shoulder once, sending to the shadowy figure.
There is no sight of Jenesek actually following, but his voice follows you out. ** Enjoy yourselves, younglings. **
Cirksa's golden eyes narrow briefly, peering into the darkness suspiciously, then she turns to follow young Belynrath. Too much to have hoped they would pass completely unnoticed.
Jenesek locksends ** The Lady Cirksa has implied matters which might carry bad favor of you, Belynrath. I trust your lips and mind has been thoroughly sealed. Or you will find the price of a loose tounge is high. (spike of anger) **
You locksend ** ....... ** to Jenesek.
Cirksa steps out of the shelter of the cavern mouth into the bright light of the surface world night, she lifts her face to the stars and sighs... ** Do you feel vulnerable, young Jaersendo? **
**Not yet,** comes Belynrath's youthful reply, still hazy, despite the long walk here. He rips off his mask, and breaths deeply, **Blazing light, I hate masks.**
Cirksa looks back over her shoulder at you, smile hidden by her own ** We all wear masks, Belynrath. Most are not so easily removed, however. ** She holds out a hand to you, beckoning.
Belynrath nods, and steps over, taking the hand, **True enough.** As he moves closer, his other hand reaches out to try to find the straps of Cirksa's mask.
Cirksa catches your hand in her own and lowers it to her waist, stepping inside your reach. She then gets the mask strings herself. ** Do not forget the light or danger, Belynrath. **
Belynrath nods, pulling Cirksa tighter to him, bringing his other hand to drape over her shoulders, **I shan't.** A pause, **Come... deeper into these trees.** He knows their name!
Cirksa finishes pulling off her mask and tucks it into her belt, there is a flash of a smile at that thought... yes, farther from the cave, deeper into danger. She steps back, still holding your hand, back toward the trees.
Belynrath grins back at the smile and follows his prize, his rival, Cirksa. Deeper into the forest, further from prying Underworld minds... His mental tuch is soft as they enter the sanctity of the tree's embrace, **Cirksa...?**
Deep Forest - Underworld Deep within the southern portion of a nameless forest, you see a monolithic mountain rise out of its evergreen carpet into the sky. The top of the mountain is flattened and its surface black. It rises towards the sky in an almost accusatory fashion, a finger of stone pointing towards the clouds above. To the north a small, seldom used trail winds into the bowed depths leading to an unseen destination. The path ends here, but if one were willing to climb amongst the inclined stones, it might be possible to continue south. Beneath one's feet is a dark, ash filled soil which gleams with tiny pieces of red and white quartz. There is something eerie about the quiet stillness of this place, something out of place.
Cirksa sends a ** Yes? ** prompting you, your last send was questioning after all, as she glances over her shoulder to make certain she's not about to run into a tree or some such.
Belynrath pauses mentally, following after Cirksa, helping lead her through the forest, as he can see where they are going, and she can not. **... you're goregous. I don't know why you are so anxious to die.**
Cirksa replies cryptically ** How you die is as important as how you live. ** a thin branch snags at her hood and she continues backward still deeper into unfamiliar territory, toward a holt filled with hostile wolfriders, sweet danger. ** I am not anxious. ** she adds in her defense ** Merely unafraid. ** or perhaps that is just what she tells herself.
Belynrath nods, reaching forward, trying to keep Cirksa branch free, **Then why ask me to kill you?**
Cirksa corrects you ** I did not. I only asked if you would should I ask it. **
Belynrath ohs softly, but let's the matter drop, moving further into the forest.
You disembark on the long trail north, through this deep forest. It goes on for quite some distance and takes a few days to cross. Eventually you leave the forest and arrive...
Path Around the Father Tree(#1106RJ) The path, bordered by steep rocks, is used mostly by the elves for travel to the woods behind the great Father tree or to lay traps for abundant small game that can be caught farther north. Now during the whitecold, game is rarely to be found. The path itself is choked with bright snow, huge drifts piled up, making traveling increasingly difficult as you travel. Contents: Cirksa
Cirksa finally decides we've wandered deep enough into enemy territory and sets her back against one of the larger trees. She looks at you, thoughtfully... ** Would you? **
**Kill you,** he asks, his eyes large. He thinks a moment, and is forced to close his eyes and pull Cirksa toward him, **I couldn't... you've come to mean too much to me.**
Cirksa slips her arms around you in a tightening embrace and places her lips once more against your throat.
Belynrath murmurs, and tightens his grip around Cirksa's body, rubbing at her back. Bring his hands up, he fiddles with her hair, longing to see those ghostly-white locks loose and free.
Cirksa locksends ** There are fates worse than death, my young friend. If you love someone, you could not leave them so. Love me that much, Belynrath. **
You locksend to Cirksa, Belynrath clings tightly, **Only if you would do that same, beloved.**
Cirksa stops a moment, as if frozen by your sending, hands mid motion, one entwined in your hair the other caressing against your shoulder. She brushes her lips against your cheek and leans back just a bit so that she can look in your eyes.
You sense in a locksend, Cirksa is perhaps more influenced by wine than she'd like to admitt as she sends with a rare moment of honesty ** I am not certain I can. **
Belynrath opens his eyes, for they were closed with feeling. In the star light, they are more luminous than the moons above, a metallic kind of silver-blue. **Try, my love. Please, try.** His brows furrow in the pleading feel his send achieves, and those eyes seem almost liquid.
Cirksa untangles her hand from your hair and traces a line across your lower lip lightly, then leans forward to kiss it. ** Love is a dangerous game... perhaps the most dangerous of all. ** Somewhere an owl hoots into the night, some scurrying creature rustles in the underbrush reminding all that this is the wild surface, filled with strange creatures and strange dangers... ** I am not affraid of a challenge. **
Belynrath pulls at one of the hair pins, dropping it to the ground, **Then why fear this is you fear everything else so little?**
The hairpins are silver, long and thin, each ended with a tiny bead in the shape of a spider. They fall to the soft earth some embedding their points between rotted leaves like strange flowers sprouted there suddenly. The end of one braid tumbles free, followed by its twin. Cirksa leans her head back against the tree, looking at you with an expression that is hard to read, always with her the mask.
Cirksa locksends ** To a blade one looses only their life. **
Belynrath continues pulling out hair pins, dropping them to the ground as he does. His other hand is engrossed in gently untwining the braids. **And to love, one loses their soul? But gains another in return, correct?**
Cirksa looks down at your hands, fingers pulling apart her carefully plaited locks and smiles slightly imagining tangles and leaves. What will her handmaiden say? ** It is a risk, there is no way of knowing for sure your lover loves you as much as you do he. You grant power over yourself when you give your heart. **
**In sending, there is only truth,** Belynrath quotes, freeing the last of those awful braids, **And I will always give you as honest an answer as I know. You have only but ask.** He brings a hand up, to brush a lock of hair back over a shoulder, carassing.
Cirksa reaches a hand up and scratches a little at her scalp, an automatic reaction to the release of the pressure of tight braids and pins as the blood switches channels. An oddly ordinary motion, as if this were just another maiden and not a Great Lady. Cirksa sighs a little, looking up at you. ** There is truth and truth, young Jaersendo. What you believe in your heart and what is real are not necessarily the same. ** she shakes her head ** I'm stalling, aren't I? After all this time, still looking for an escape.**
Belynrath smiles softly, and runs his hands and fingers through that hair... What was he expecting, after all, from the hair of so Great a Lady: silk? **If you must escape, then you must, and I'll not stop you...** He brushes the back of his fingertips against Cirksa's cheek, **...but yes.. you are stalling.**
Cirksa turns her head to brush her lips against your fingers. ** I am afraid, Belynrath. ** and becoming sober, what's worse.
Belynrath steps back slightly, nodding, **I know. So was I... So am I... But I am not so important, in the scheme of things as you, Cirksa.** He slowly reaches up, and pulls off that thick surface-made cloak of his. Tossing it aside, he reaches back, where his knife is, and pulls it free, only to toss it from him, just beyond where those hair pins might have ended up. He levels his gaze on Cirksa, and swallows, suddenly very defenseless, **Do as you will, beloved.**
Cirksa tilts her head to one side, looking at you as if she doesn't understand for a moment. The steps forward, a few strands of frost-hued hair stick to the bark of the tree and reaching branches, she doesn't pay them any heed, they pull free and fall behind her or are left in testimony that a Lady was here. With one pale hand she touches under your chin and slides her fingertips downward, along your throat and down to the spot between your collarbones where the fabric of your tunic stops her. ** As I will? ** she asks.
Belynrath fights down the urge to grab, pull, twist, draw steel, swipe that has been ingrained since birth, that mistrust of anyone within arm's reach. He nods, repeating, almost a whisper, **As you will. I am out of sending range for anyone from my House, or anyone that can aid me. I am yours, here, to do with as you would.**
There is a familiar sound, the whisper of sharpened metal against oiled leather as Cirksa draws her dagger. It is the same she's carried for years beyond count, plain, unadorned and well sharpened. It would cut smoothly, sever the life from flesh with an even stroke. She sets the point were her fingers rested, at the hallow of your throat. Her sending, when it comes rasps with repressed emotions ** Do not make such offers, Belynrath. **
Belynrath draws a shaky breath between his teeth, color flushing to his cheeks. **The offer is made, and the offer it stands, Cirksa.** Keeping as calm a gaze on Cirksa as he can, though he's almost shaking to the core, Belynrath leans forward, into the blade, **... /whatever/ you want.**
The dagger slices downward, drawing a thin red line with the sharp tip against your pale flesh. The blade does better against your shirt than her fingertip did, slicing into the fabric. ** Tell me of your fears, Belynrath. **
Belynrath's eyes begin to follow the blade, but the lordling schools himself, and keeps his gaze focused on Cirksa's eyes, those amber-colored eyes. **There.. are many, Cirksa.** His send quivers, **At this moment... that blade... and your.. are foremost in my mind.**
Cirksa presses closer, the cold tip of the blade still against the delicate flesh of your chest but now her other arm is around you and the warmth of her body apparent through your clothing as she kisses you. ** Would Verlaan suspect, I wonder... if you never returned. **
Belynrath brings his arms about Cirksa, returning the kiss. His arms are still shaking slightly, **Perhaps one would assume I had been done in by the dangers of the surface...**
Cirksa pulls your shirt open with her knife hand, the cold metal and warm fingers alike brushing against smooth flesh. ** That is still possible. We are in enemy territory, my young friend. **
Belynrath murmurs softly into Cirksa's lips, his hands trailing across her back, **So we are...** He seems to want to tighten but that dagger... **... this danger... it seems... does it heighten your senses... as it does mine?**
Cirksa's hand slips around your back, under the warm tunic, she still holds the dagger and the rough leather-wrapped hilt brushes against your back and she presses you to herself. ** Yes. **
Belynrath murmurs again as those fingers trail up his spine, the scabbard of his pwn dagger empty, pressing down on the hand from over his tunic. His arms tighten, clasping Cirksa to him fericiously.
Cirksa leans back a little, to look at you, she runs a fingernail down your cheek, scratching lightly. ** I've a confession, Belynrath. **
Another one... Belynrath opens his eyes to peer at Cirksa, in his arms... In /his/ arms! He nods, **What is it, Cirksa,** sending as tenderly as he can with the ranging emotions flooding him. OH! How he longs to just throw that dagger aside and silence her mind with a crushing... ahem... *^^*
Cirksa slips her hand back from your cheek, over the pointed tip of your ear and threads her fingers through silverly locks ** I'm not certain how to proceed... ** she grabs a handful of your hair and pulls downward, causing your head to tilt back and expose that delicate neck. ** I've never done this. **
Belynrath gasps lightly at the motion, turning his eye downward to try to keep a gaze on Cirksa. He can no longer see the dagger, just feel it's sharp sharp point on his chest. His heart speeds up, as does his breathing, quick, through his nose, **... neither have I...**
Cirksa chuckles softly, strange sound rippling across the tension of this moment ** The blind leading the blind ** she murmurs as she sets her teeth to your throat.
Belynrath's eyes widen, as if Cirksa had driven that dagger deep into flesh. A gasp ripples through him, and he unconsciousnessly tensens his grasp, his arms closely, drawing Cirksa closer, almost crushing. He has no coherent thoughts, but leans into the teeth, his frame shuddering.
Cirksa steps back away from you and just opens her hand, letting her dagger drop with a soft thud to the forest floor. She glances over to where your cloak lays upon the ground, back to you...
Belynrath follows Cirksa's look and takes the initiative. Taking Cirksa's hand, and leads her to the cloak, and helps to settle her down gently before dropping to his knees himself.
(MISSED A POSE HERE, SORRY!)
No, it's not, and Belynrath, sensing that, utters no words or thoughts. Reaching for the hand, he presses it against his flushed cheek before stretching out beside Cirksa. In the heartbeat that passes, memories... the echo of words, float through his mind: His cousin's mind, **You're practically her lovemate already!** Belynrath shudders at the inward memory, his eyes falling closed as he moves to cover her lips with his own. 'High Ones let her crumble soon! Let her give up her House to me quickly! I don't think I can take much more...'
Cirksa finishes her destruction of your nice tunic, ripping the knife-cut open the rest of the way with a quick tug and leans forward to softly kiss the still bleeding scratch made by her blade.
Belynrath moans under the assult and begins one of his own. That nice dress of Cirksa's falls victim to the same fate. His hands, starting at the hips, work their way up to her chest. Finding the top hem, the neckline of those dark assassin's garb of yours, he pulls with one near-savage jerk.
Cirksa shrugs out of her tunic, pale flesh gleaming bright in the starlight against the dark cloth, an awkward moment as she tugs her arm free of the sleeve and then presses to you, warm flesh against felsh.
Belynrath's breath is coming in quick pants. In that awkward moment as Cirksa shurgs out of her tunic, so does he, just a drop of his shoulders, and done. She pressed, and he coils his arms under her back, pulling her up to him, mouth seeking hers almost frankily. OOC: I consent that you've undone my hair from the bun, even though I don't think it was posed out right. Unless you still want it bound.
Stripes has arrived.
Rosewind & Lifefire lands easily on the ground by Stripes.
Falyeril has arrived.
The first thing the approaching Lostholter's find is a dagger, laying upon the ground innocently, forgotten, there is the slightest touch of red at its tip... though no signs of a struggle... then there is something else gleaming amid the rotted leaves of last fall, a straight pin of silver with the figure of a spider shaped by magic's hand at the end. and another... and another... another knife... and then there's a torn bit of some dark cloth and you're apon them. Two elven figures obviously not expecting company, arms wrapped around each other, clothing asunder, lying right in the middle of the path on top of a cloak.
Lifefire and Rosewind are racing through winter trees not a care in the world at the moments. Lifefire comes to a halt as he smells blood. Elf blood. ** Rosewind stop. ** He move down to the lower trees and spots the blood. The first thing Lifefire does is warn the holt before he draws an arrow and nocks it. ** Rosewind come here and be quiet. **
Rosewind skids to a stop and drraws her bow and notches a arrow as she approaches silently to where Lifefire is. Sniffing hte air she is instantly alert and her eyes gaze around for any sign of danger to the Holt.
Falyeril comes panting up behind the now-stopped Wolfriders, out of breath from following them.
Lifefire looks at Rosewind, ** Watch for danger I am going down. ** He puts away his arrow and bow before drawing his knife. Lifefire drops down from the trees and spots the two elves. Hey isn't that what's his name? Belynrath? He moves over slowly with his blade out in front and gives a sniff. Yep that's him. What happened to them. Lifefire sends to them, ** What happened to you to? Are you all right? ** He takes a couple of steps back, just in case.
Belynrath hmms and looks up, his eyes blinking. He turns to look, only to gasp. Lifefire? He grabs at his shreaded tunic, still partially tucked into his pants, and drapes it over Cirksa's form. His send is rightfully embrassed, **We're fine. Thank you.**
Lifefire looks at Belynrath as he sends to the other to stay in the trees. ** Are you sure? What happened to you two? Your shirt is shreaded. Did something attack you? **
Cirksa bolts upright at the send, amber eyes widened as she looks over her bare shoulder easily picking out the wolfrider in the, to her, overly bright surface world night. She grimaces and the word she mutters is not one heard often outside of the troll tunnels, and certainly would not fit well in the High Council chambers. She clutches Belynrath's tunic to herself for modesty's sake, and... yes, that is a blush redding her pale cheek, as well as a smear of Belynrath's blood. The male underworlder having a nasty little cut on his chest. No idea where that came from, really.
Rosewind glances back to Falyeril and lifts her hand for him to stay before she loks back down. From where she is she can't see what is going on and she edges a bit lower t get a better view. She sniffs the air and smeels a familar scent as well as a strange one ** Belynrath? Is he well Lifefire? I smell blood. Strongly. **
Falyeril stops, out of breath, not really seeing what's on the ground. ** What? What? What? **
Belynrath clears his throat lightly, trying to remain stoic in all this, though his furiously red cheeks give him away. **Yes, I'm certain, and nothing...** he flicks a glance at Cirksa, **Attacked me...** his gaze drops to the shirt in her hands, **...my tunic, on the other hand.** He glances up at Rosewind's sending. High Ones, could this get any worse? **Yes, Rosewind, I'm here, and I'm well. Mostly unharmed.**
Lifefire looks at the pair and starts to laugh. ** I take it you two would like to be alone then. ** He continues to laugh as he looks up to the tree, ** They were just joining. Let's go and give them some privacy. ** Lifefire's smirks back, ** Perhaps you two should find someplace warmer, and more private then joining in the snow out in the forest. **
Falyeril sends openly ** Joining? _Here_? Who's with Belynrath? **
Cirksa clears her throat and stands abruptly, mortally embarrased. She looks around for her shirt, not to mention her knife and hairpins, as she hisses ** Is this /really/ something you must tell your entire tribe, stranger? **
Rosewind chuckles at the sending and looks back to Faly ""Belynrath is a friend. Though he would not want it to get around I think. ** She is amused at the situation as she hops down from the tree. Un knocking her bow she takes in the scene and smirks at the upstanding young dark elf ** Nice to see yu again Belynrath. Though I never imagined seeing you like this. ** She moves over to Lifeifre and slips her arm around his waist ** We could invite them to the warmth of the den, but I doubt they would accept. **
Falyeril flushes, abashed...
Belynrath looks up at Cirksa, his expression one of loss. Curse it! All that work... He stands quickly, eyes too, scanning the ground.. Ah.. there's... behind Lifefire. He moves to block the sight of Cirksa with himself, noting also, that Lifefire had a weapon, back to Cirksa. Yes indeed, he is the source of the still-fresh blood-scent, as there is a long vertical cut in his chest, not deep, but bleeding brightly, the blood dark on his almost unnatrually pale skin.
You locksend ** You alright, beloved? ** to Cirksa.
Lifefire chuckles and moves over to go climb up a tree, ** Belynrath is an underworlder we, Rosewind and I met before. ** He looks over his shoulder at Cirksa and grins, ** If you join in the open then you should expect elves to talk. ** He laughs as he continues up, ** Belynrath, maybe you should get that cut looked at. **
Cirksa kneels to collect a bright hairpin, well there's /one/. She rather pointedly does not look at the Lostholters. She sits there a moment with a frown, to put the pin in her hair will require two hands and one of her hands is very occupied currently keeping the remains of Belynrath's tunic over her bare chest.
You sense in a locksend, Cirksa's sending is quite colored by her embarrasment and anger at being so taken by suprise and in such a comporomising possition. ** Why ever would I not be? **
You locksend to Cirksa, Belynrath flinches at the curtness of the reply, but makes no mention of it. Best not to rub all those emotions in, you know. Instead, he sends the emotions he himself tries to show, unconcern? No... that falls flat, he too is embrassed by the situation.
Rosewind watches Lifeifre climb back up the tree as she looks back tot he darkwolders. She is still suspicous of the other since her /friend/ is bleeding. She resets her arrow and raises ot to the other female elf ** Who are you. And why have you harmed Balynrath? **
Falyeril finds that the rocks are too steep to climb.
Falyeril sends openly ** I - uh - I will make sure no-one else stumbles in here. Excuse me. **
Belynrath's eyes are bright, watching everyone, still trying to keep himself between Cirksa and the others. It's clear he's sending privately. His eyes widen at Rosewind's question. His heart skips a beat, and he seems to try to be finding a way to answer properly.
Lifefire chuckles a little as he all ready figured out what happened and nuzzles Rosewind, ** I am sure the other elf didn't intentionally hurt him. ** He nuzzles Rosewind and lower her arrow.
Cirksa turns her pale eyes to the female with the bow. High Ones she /cannot/ be serious. ** That is none of your concern, surfacedweller. ** She puts the hairpin back down upon the ground and instead concentrates on tying the shreded tunic about herself so that her hands will be free.
Cutter drops from somewhere overhead.
Cutter has arrived.
Lifefire and Rosewind are up in the trees looking down at the pair of underworlders, who are still in a state of undress. Lifefire frowns at Cirksa, ** I would watch your tongue Underwolder. Remember where you are. You are not in your caves any more. **
Belynrath tries not to flinch at Cirksa's harsh sounding sends, cold and biting as only an underworlder can make them. He's still standing before Cirksa, her hair loose and blowing about in the winter wind. He is shirtless, as Cirksa is using what's left of the shirt to cover herself, her own shirt lays discarded on the forest floor, near a black leather overcoat. Belynrath's by the scent. On Belynrath's chest, is a long, but not overly deep cut. It bleeds nicely. He flicks his gaze to Cirksa, sending to her quickly, while taking a half step back, to try to embrace her from behind, though whether that action is to keep arrows off her, or to keep her from acting, is anyone's guess.
Rosewind frowns at the pair and doesn't want to lower her bow. At Lifefire's insistance she begins to do so until the dark female responds. Nit liking it one bit she raises her bow and prepares to let looses her arrow.
Lifefire makes Rosewind lower the bow again and has a private send with her as he watches the underworlder's embrase
You locksend ** I suggest you ignore their barbs, Cirksa, for now at least. That one... was not treated well, as you can image, for it seems he has had some dealings with someone from our realm sometime in the past.** There is worry, nervousness, fear, but a clear mind behind it all. ** to Cirksa.
Cutter: Pale hair, with just a hint of golden highlight, is drawn into the chief's knot atop his head. The rest of his silky hair tumbles in a soft fall to just beneath his shoulders. A pair of delicately pointed ears part the hair that frames his strong-jawed face. Fiercely intense eyes of the clearest blue gaze upon the world with a lupine slant. High cheekbones and expressive brows bracket those thought-filled orbs on either side of his short, squarely-tipped nose above his wide mouth. All in all, it is an expressive face that readily shows his every emotion to those around him. A sleeveless vest of dark blue leather covers his torso with a wide 'v' of light blue that dips from his shoulders to midchest. The leather thong keeping it tied securely is missing allowing the vest to gape over his broader chest. A pair of dark blue trousers hug his narrow hips and muscular legs, disappearing into the tops of a pair of matching boots. The boots are cut from a soft, yet sturdy leather trimmed with a ragged leather ruff just below his knees. A belt of sturdy, black leather supports the weight of the silver-trimmed, midnight blue scabbard that echoes the curve of the brightmetal blade of New Moon, hanging at his hip. The chief of Lost Holt, once as tall and willowy as any Glider has been returned to his original, shorter, muscular shape. The magic of Winnowill is quite evident in his new form. Actions that were once graceful and fluid now often come with the clumsiness of a cub just learning his limbs.
Cirksa shakes her head at an arrow pointed at her. ** I can see how I must appear threatening to you, surfacedweller, shivering and unclothed. If you wouldn't mind lowering that point? I dearly wish to be dressed. ** she looks over her shoulder at Belynrath, sighs ** My shirt? **
Belynrath is still tense, but moves, stepping forward to collect the dark fabric, his eyes never leaving those above, **Yes, My Lady.** A formal, polite reply, as he drops back to what he knows, and is comfortable with.
Cutter locksends, to Lifefire, Rosewind: ** Lower your weapons. < >**
Rosewind scowls at the strangers, expecially the female. She's just asking for it. With great reluctance, she lowers her bow but keeps it ready should it be needed. ** Is this the one you wanted you gift for Belynrath? ** Rosewind winces at a private send and looks to Lifefire. She nearly jumps and peers around for Cutter as she lowerrs her bow completely and tries to pretend she didn't do anything.
Lifefire nods at Cutter's send and looks at Rosewind before looking back to the underworlders, ** What exactly are you two doing up here? Not enough private caves underground? **
Falyeril continues to listen from nearby.
Belynrath crouches to collect the shirt, in a hand. He replies to Rosewind and Rosewind alone, **She is.** His send is cold, distant, but as Cirksa knows his mind well-enough by now, it quivers slightly. He stands slowly, sending back to Cirksa.
You locksend ** I have met these two particular elves before... Shall I speak to them while you... collect yourself? ** to Cirksa.
Cirksa just holds her hand out for the shirt. Amazing how much colder it got here after they were discovered. (would greet Lord Lostholt, but he's not posed an entrance as of yet *poke* ;)
Falyeril returns with a couple of stray items the Underworlders left. ** Uh, you dropped these... **
Rosewind nods to Belynrath and moves over to nuzzle with Lifefire, even though moves her hand to the hilt of her dagger, just in case it might be needed.
Lifefire doesn't respond to Rosewind's nuzzle as he continues to watch the Underworlders waiting for an answer to his question.
Cirksa turns her back to the LostHolters for modesty's sake though the vulnerability of such an action makes the hairs on the back of her neck rise. Seems she must trust Belynrath to watch her back for the moment. She shrugs on the shirt, pulls her hair out of it and then turns, modesty satisfied enough for her to face the strangers as she ties the lacings.
A slight rustling of evergreen foliage is the only warning given, before Cutter, steps through a bit of winter underbrush.. just beneath Rosewind and Lifefire. Though he is much shorter in stature than the two Underworlders, there is the impression that he is bothered not at all by their impressive height. He stops, out of their reach but, close enough for them to see the wry half-smile on his features as he settles his hands on his hips. One might note that a certain Underworld style dagger has been slipped into the belt that supports the weight of New Moon. Just behind him, pads a rather large gray wolf: his bond, Ashefur. He takes in the situation with a quick glance and finally deigns to send with no small amount of humor, **I never expected that Underworlders would grace our holt again.. and certainly never like this.** He pauses for just a second before adding, **And in the middle of whitecold too.... **
Rosewind glances over at Cutter's approach before looking back to the dark ones **Perhaps this is a trap and there are other Dark ones approaching when we are occupied here? ** Her grip tightens her on her dagger at the thought. She waits with the other for Belynrath to answer.
Cirksa inclines her head slightly in a shallow, but respectful bow to one's equal. ** Lord Lostholt, Darkness shelter you. ** An oddly formal greeting from a woman who's tying her shirt closed as she speaks.
Whew. Now Belynrath doesn't have to answer, instead dropping locksends, hoping to placate the tense wolfriders above. He regards Lord Lostholt coolly and curiously. So short for a Noble Lord!
You locksend ** Privacy differs from place to place. There are things that simply can not be done with our rock home, and things that are aided by starlight. ** to Lifefire.
Lifefire stands up and watches from the high branches. Now that Cutter he is Lifefire gladly lets him take care of the intruders.
Falyeril, as usual a bit awed by the presence of the leader of the Wolfriders, tentatively sends ** Chief Cutter. We were just going hunting... **
You sense in a locksend, Lifefire nods, ** I understand Belynrath, I was only joking. I don't care if you two join in the open. **
You locksend to Lifefire, Belynrath seems embrassed as his send tightens, **There are some things best not joked about, Lifefire.**
Rosewind lists her chin stubbornly, she's ever the stubborn one, and turns her gaze to Belnyrath and shrugs. ** I am not worried about the state of your Lady's ire dark friend. **
Belynrath flicks a hard stare at Rosewind. For wolves that would be an almost challenging glare, but for an Underworlder... there's indignation, shock. Belynrath replies forcefully.
Cirksa finishes the final tie with a little jerk and bends her legs to scoop up her hairpin once more. There were several, but two will do to start.
Cirksa locksends ** we are outnumbered, young Jaersendo, I do not advise angering them. **
You locksend ** Then worry for your safety, and my own, should she be angered futher, and leave off your childish remarks! There are differences of Houses here, that requires carefull manuvering. Step delicately, Rosewind. I have grown fond of the lessons you have taught me, and would not like anything to come to pass. ** to Rosewind.
Lifefire locksends ** Joing is pleasurable. Nothing more nothing less. What's the harm in joiking about it?" **
You locksend ** I am attempting to soothe. The two up there... I met before, when I was here earlier.** When was that? He never said anything about a trip to the surface... **May I suggest you handle their Lord? His eyes... ** to Cirksa.
Cirksa locksends ** I have met with the Lord Lostholt before. **
You locksend to Lifefire, Belynrath seems.. curious at that... Pleasureable? His mind reacts as if he was only just now learning that, **But there is a risk far greater than anything you can imagine to get to that point, Lifefire. Please, aid me in seeing that your... lovemate does nothing to stir Ci... My Lady's anger further.
You locksend to Cirksa, Belynrath seems relieved? **A blessing that is, I think. Will your dwelling with him be harmed by this? How may I best act to ensure you lose as little as possible, if not gain something in this?
Rosewind scowls at the the percieved threat and releases her dagger only to notch her bow, holding down to the ground but ready if need be. She looks back and forth between the two Dark elves. ** I had thought you might be a friend Belynrath. ** Rose looks to Lifefire and sighs in a private send.
Cutter glances at Belynrath and notes his expression. He doesn't send or speak anything openly but, there is definately a warning look in his eyes. He then turns to regard Cirksa, **What brings you to LostHolt, Lady?** he asks now that the formalites are over with.
Lifefire locksends ** Maybe for you, but you are an underworld and are bound by rules. I a wolfrider am not. **
Lifefire looks at Cutter, ** Excuse us Chief. ** He looks to Rosewind and his gaze narrows.
You locksend to Lifefire, Belynrath seems to be growling, not at you but at Rosewind, **I ask this of you, knowing I have given nothing to earn this, but I ask, please, see that she does nothing. You may not have rules, but we do. I ask that she respect that, and leave off her actions. Please!**
Lifefire graps on to Rosewind's arrow and tugs it hard out of the bow before he takes the bow away as well.
Belynrath turns his eyes from Rosewind, to watch Cutter. He seems to be sending quickly, to many. His eyes showing the strain of so young a mind trying to keep up with everyone. All this, and he tries to keep track of Cirksa's movements between him. Until she is dressed and armed and more composed, he is her shield.
Cirksa pulls a dead leaf or two from her hair and then twists the mass up onto her head, looping the end around and around and around again to form a quick bun. ** My appologies, Lord Lostholt, I had not realized we had travelled so far into your territory. My attention was on... other matters. ** She skewers the bun in place with the two hairpins, it will hold for a few minutes at least. She holds her hand out toward Cutter, palm open and facing upward ** Juraido is not your enemy, Lostholt. My dagger? **
Cutter glances over at Lifefire and Falyril giving a slight nod of his head, **I'll send if there is need of your help again.**
Cutter locksends, to Lifefire, Rosewind: ** My thanks.. they should not be so close to the Father Tree. **
Falyeril nods, and starts backing reluctantly away.
Lifefire locksends ** You are welcome my chief. I am sorry for Rosewind's actions. ** to Cutter.
Lifefire nods to Cutter and looks at Rosewind before he takes hold of her arm. He looks at her hard and they both leave to talk alone.
Rosewind nods to Cutter and takes back her bow and her arrow as she starts back around the tree. She gives a last look over her shoulder before looking back to Lifefire and goes off with him.
You locksend ** She didn't fire her bow.. there is nothing to appologize for. ** to Lifefire.
Lifefire locksends ** Still she disobeyed your sends. **
You locksend ** My thanks, Lifefire. I shall endevor to find the way to repay you in kind. ** to Lifefire.
Lifefire locksends ** You are welcome, just remember this if I ever need your help. **
You locksend ** I shall. ** to Lifefire.
Belynrath watches everyone go, thank full, before turning his eyes back to Lord Lostholt, awaiting an introduction. If Cirksa and Cutter are equals...
You locksend ** Beloved? ** to Cirksa.
Cirksa locksends ** Gather your cloak, and the rest of my hairpins if you can find them. I do not relish asking Lord Naeblis to shape me a new set. **
Cirksa remains standing as she is, one hand outstretched to the Lord of this domain, waiting for her knife.
Belynrath moves then, after a moments silence, turning from the Lord and Lady. Surveying the ground, he collects as many of Cirksa's glittering hair pins as his sharp eyes can find.
Cutter looks between the two left as his wolf sits down beside him watching the Underworlders with an odd intelligence in his amber eyes. Cutter shifts and reaches for the naked blade tucked into his belt and hands it over to its owner. **There aren't enough of you here to be a threat even if you were.** he replies with great confidence. And though you can't see the owners, there is the sense of many eyes watching the scene unfold.
Cirksa's stance relaxes the slightest bit once she has the hilt of her dagger in her hand once more. She brushes the edge of the blade against her sleeve to clean it and slips it back into its sheath. ** I thank you, Lord Lostholt. I trust we have not shattered the very foundations of your House with our indescretion? **
One. Two. Four. Seven. Just how many of these things did Cirksa /have/ in her hair?! Belynrath almost grumbles as he continually stoops to collect them, haven first paused to don his leaf-covered leather cloak. There's something shiny... As he reaches for it, his hand pauses. It's... it's the color of Cirksa's eyes! It's... It's that stone! Tree's Blood! He actually smiles to himself and collects the item, flicking a glance back to ensure that Cirksa's still busy. Good. She is. Belynrath tucks it into a fold in his cloak, a small pocket of sorts, and finds his knife. Thank the High Ones his scabbard wasn't flung away like his shirt. Speaking of...?
Cutter chuckles softly as he crosses his arms over his chest. While his attention is riveted on Cirksa, the wolf turns to keep an eye on the one searching the frosty ground. **My 'house' was has not been shattered by the Black Snake or by anything the Underworld has put us through.. I doubt this will even dent it.** he sends with an amused tone in his mind's voice. My, he seems to be in a fairly good mood tonight.
Of course, it's not every day you get to catch an Underworlder with his or her pants down... literally.
Cirksa's bare face is as unrevealing as the mask she wore every other time she encountered the surface Lord. She brushes a stray frost-colored lock back behind her ear ** Then accept my appology for the disruption and I and my... ** and here she falters for a scant moment her /what?/ beloved adversary? ** the young Lord Jaersendo shall be on our way. **
Fine! Don't say it! He's been real nice about calling you the B-word every chance he can get. Belynrath turns to brings Cirksa her pins, his eyes averted from hers so she'll not see the calculations within. Cursed, meddling, surface.... GRRRRRRR! Now he's got to get her drunk /all/ over again!
Cirksa accpets the hair pins, tucking them into her tunic without looking to make sure they're all there. Will be time enough to count them later in the sheltering darkness of her own cavern.
Cutter's expression turns to one of curiosity at Cirksa's hedging at what to call the younger elf.. her what? he wonders to himself but, only the curious glancing of his bright, cerulean eyes belies his interest in that matter. **I see.. ** he sends as he notes the avoidance in the Jaersendo elf's gaze. He nods and starts to turn into the forest, pausing about halfway around to toss a grin that's filled with teasing over his shoulder, **You can call him 'beloved' here.. we won't hold /that/ against you.** That sent, he turns and walks back the way he came, quickly melding into the underbrush with Ashefur following at his heels.
Belynrath glances about warily, **Now where, My Lady?** The rest of his thoughts drop into privacy as he SHIVERS.
Cirksa blushes at the wolfchief's words, but sends a cool ** Clear tunnels before you, Lord Lostholt ** in parting before turning to Belynrath. ** Now we go home, young Jaersendo. ** she does not add the 'and quickly' onto the end.
Belynrath nods to Cirksa, replying though trying to fight down his shivering, **As you wish, My Lady.**
Cirksa pulls her hood up and fixes her mask in place ** The walk will keep you warm, come. ** she starts down the trail, well feeling the eyes of the Lostholter's in the shadows upon them as they go.
Belynrath turns to start to go, then pauses, scans the area quickly for his shirt... White moss-cloth.. on white snow... hmmm.. Seeing that Cirksa's leaving him behind, he turns and rushes after her. Hot lava and troll dung! Now /everyone's/ gonna know!!!
Cirksa is rather disturbingly silent during the walk back, she keeps a quick pace.
Underground Cave - Underworld You are standing inside the cave..The whole area in here is warm, but not hot..And is blackened from previous explosions. In the middle of this huge area is a glittering lake, which is surrounded by black soot which serves as sand. There are various plants which thrive here on the warmth and the tiny amounts of light that reach this far down. At the exit from the cavern to the outside world is a large metal gate, with double doors. A large bar seals the gate closed to the outside world. Shaped next to the gate is a post for the guard of the gate. The gate itself has been shaped out of metal and is covered with delicate filigree work. There are no marks, hinting that any tool was used in its making, scarring its surface, but radiates strongly of magic, announcing, to those with the magic to do so, the real manner in which the maker used to construct the gate. Obvious exits: Beach (B) Gate (G) Lava Tunnel (S)
Cirksa arrives from the Outside the Cave - Underworld.
Cirksa has arrived.
Cirksa's steps finally slow as she finally enters the Underworld. Now she turns and looks at you for a long quiet moment... sends something privately, and continues on her way.
Cirksa locksends ** I'm sorry. **
Belynrath stays there, his eyes sad until Cirksa's out of sight. Then he sighs, almost in frustration, 'damn.' He glonces up from the fall of his head, and peers after her, renewed hope on his features, 'She feels remorse... High Ones give me strength until this is done with.'
End?
Logfile from Two Moons - Belynrath
The caverns have been quiet... Too quiet... at least until Belynrath moves in, eyes on the ground, moving quickly, the scent of top-soil, snow, rotten leaves... make a slight aura about him.
A figure, lurking in the shadows, watches the figure crossing. A shake of a head, if you knew exactly where to look you might spot her.
Melisanda locksends ** You have much to learn in the art of discreteness, childling. **
Belynrath doesn't spot anyone, too lost in his thoughts and in getting to his home cave quickly. A sharp eye would note.. there's no shirt under that overcloak, and what's this... a leaf in his hair? Someone was on the surface.... He flicks a glance to that shadow, now that it sent privately.
You locksend ** So I do, Lady Goumando. I shall endevor to remember that. ** to Melisanda.
Is she really there? The shadows so dark, your eyes not yet accustomed to the the dimness of the caverns.
Melisanda locksends ** Let me tell you the tale of the spider. A cave spider discovered a large source of food that went completely undisturbed by the other cave spiders. Thinking himself the cunning type and more than a little hungry, he spun a web to catch some of the morsels that seemed all too vulnerable. And indeed he caught them! Quite a feast he had - he ate and ate, never before having the pleasure of so much food. A few hours later, as he was resting in his web, content with life, a growing uneasiness built up within him. Thinking it minor, he ignored it. Within another hour, he was dead. The morsels were poisonous, and had he looked carefully, he would have seen the decay corpses of other cave spiders in almost the same spot. But he let his hunger rule him, control him, and he died for it. **
Belynrath moves into his home coldly, not acknowledging anything outwardly.
You locksend ** A good story indeed, Lady Goumando. I shall ponder it's lesson in my sleep tonight. ** to Melisanda.
You enter the House Jaersendo.
Belynrath walks in stifly. There are leaves in his hair, and his overcoat is wet with melted snow and topsoil and... oh my! Has he no shirt on?
Please tell me this is a joke.
No joke, my loyal guardsman. Belynrath is most definately in odd straights.
Snow?
Yes, snow. It's the season of white cold top-sid... er.. troll dung. I'm caught.
Belynrath is moving swiftly to his rooms, not stopping to say hi or be polite.
Alekesh in the corner shadows of the main hall as he usually tends to be, makes his presence known through sending. ** Darkness, Heir Belynrath. I'd query, but somehow get the feeling you don't care to answer. ** As jokingly-serious as he usually is. Surely he's got his own ideas on what's happened.
Belynrath nearly skids to a stop atop the stairs leading to his room. His face says it all. **Query if you must, Guardsman. I'm certain my mother will coax the events from me anyway.**
Verlaan has arrived.
Belynrath is stand atop the stairs leading to his room, his face a turmoil of emotion. There are... what? leaves in his hair.. and mud on his overcoat.... and... okay.. where'd his shirt run off to?
Alekesh is probably surprised inwardly, that you seem so surprised... you of all people should know that even the most crafty can't sneak around here without being seen every time... If it was possible, he'd be out of a job... ** If you care to tell me, then you can. But as you've so aptly put it, it won't be necessary. **
Verlaan steps out of her chamber and glances around. She notes her son's appearance with a slightly raised eyebrow but, makes no comment on that, in particular, **Did you enjoy your trip to the surface?** she asks.
And the dung hits the... Belynrath looks over and tonelessly enchants, **Yes. I did. Thank you.**
Alekesh turns around from the corner he's standing in to face Verlaan. ** Darkness, Lady ** he bows a bit. Well, so much for his queries...
Verlaan eyes her son's attire..or lack thereof and arches that brow just a bit higher, **Isn't it a bit too chilly up there to be dressing thusly?** she asks then.
**So I learned,** comes Belynrath's snowy reply. He straightens, **May I be excused to go to bed, Mother?**
Verlaan lifts a hand toward Belynrath's chamber door, **By all means..** she replies with no small amount of amusement in her mind's voice.
Belynrath leaves, quickly, stiffly. Oh.. is /he/ in trouble.
End.
