Success! Lyra grinned as she wrapped the shadow material in cloth and added them to her collection. Now she all she had to do was save some jink and hunt down that old man again.
During the venture, 'Crimson' and she had camped in one of the caves. Over the blaze of the small campfire, she had attempted in her own way to explain ,upon his question, her lack of voice. With difficulty, she had barely managed to indicate with mime and image, something of the slaughter of her parents when he had held up his hands stopping her from describing more. She gave up with a wry shrug, it was not an easy tale to tell even for a non-mute. When he asked her to try to make a sound, wanting to see something, she made half-hearted attempt, thinking, 'what was the point?', she complied, reluctantly, and only a hiss of breath came forth as they both expected. Damned if she was going to write down anything about that time as a girl...what was done, was done and she had lived with the outcome for years, survived despite it all with the barest of help from anyone else.
As for keeping her promise, he had told her 'whenever you feel like it'. So be it...and she padded off with wave of the hand, thankful enough for his help to achieve what she needed, a gratitude that might influence the telling of that promise in due course.
Lyra Fereth
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*Pashan01
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- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Two drowess in the bazaar, both very different, yet the same to her. No exception...
The first approached with the green eyed male cousin, the too familiar customer of two days ago. At first she thought him linked with the spider kisser, the drowess acting familiar, toying with the elf, just as familiar as he was toying with Lyra. Sexy brows indeed, terms like 'babe', even the drowess thought she was his 'wife' on account of his familiarity, she shuddered. When the dirt elf strayed too far in her mocking, Lyra drew her finger across her throat,her eyes upon the female, she smirked and padded quietly away, turning up her nose as if she smelt something bad. She didn't have to tolerate either of them in her presence, her threat to the drowess obvious and clear if the female overstepped the mark with her again.
She moved to sit near the tent and this time retrieved her flute to clean. Another male elf approached, more kindly of face and offered her jink to play, paying compliments to her music. 'Green-eyes' had ditched the darthir and imposed again in her space, plucking lute to her tune, expecting payment from the polite cousin when she finished her tune. She pocketed the jink as hers which seemed to amuse 'green-eyes'. She was ready to favour the newcomer and had already passed him her advertisement leaflet when the second drowess approached, pretending pleasant manner.
She glanced between them as the drowess continued to smile, her attempt at warmth and friendly behaviour fooled the male, as they spoke in elven tongue, trying to include her, Lyra was not going to be fooled and her grin at the male swiftly faded to smirk, disappointed that one of her race can be fooled and turn traitor... pathetic how they forgot simply because they had travelled planes and wished to have smooth path. She turned away, overhearing a whisper to her behind the weapon racks....Drow...love killing them?
He got her attention.
The first approached with the green eyed male cousin, the too familiar customer of two days ago. At first she thought him linked with the spider kisser, the drowess acting familiar, toying with the elf, just as familiar as he was toying with Lyra. Sexy brows indeed, terms like 'babe', even the drowess thought she was his 'wife' on account of his familiarity, she shuddered. When the dirt elf strayed too far in her mocking, Lyra drew her finger across her throat,her eyes upon the female, she smirked and padded quietly away, turning up her nose as if she smelt something bad. She didn't have to tolerate either of them in her presence, her threat to the drowess obvious and clear if the female overstepped the mark with her again.
She moved to sit near the tent and this time retrieved her flute to clean. Another male elf approached, more kindly of face and offered her jink to play, paying compliments to her music. 'Green-eyes' had ditched the darthir and imposed again in her space, plucking lute to her tune, expecting payment from the polite cousin when she finished her tune. She pocketed the jink as hers which seemed to amuse 'green-eyes'. She was ready to favour the newcomer and had already passed him her advertisement leaflet when the second drowess approached, pretending pleasant manner.
She glanced between them as the drowess continued to smile, her attempt at warmth and friendly behaviour fooled the male, as they spoke in elven tongue, trying to include her, Lyra was not going to be fooled and her grin at the male swiftly faded to smirk, disappointed that one of her race can be fooled and turn traitor... pathetic how they forgot simply because they had travelled planes and wished to have smooth path. She turned away, overhearing a whisper to her behind the weapon racks....Drow...love killing them?
He got her attention.
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*Pashan01
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- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
'You can never lay a finger inside the Cage...alot of guards' She knew that.
From across the bazaar she noted the first drowess harassing 'Crimson' as he traded with the woman with the lute. 'Green-eyes' next words rang true for the wisdom they gave her though his familiar term 'baby-doll' had her cringeing. But she followed him at his command seeing that he made to follow 'Crimson' and the harrassing darthir, keeping close to the corners and shadows of the buildings they followed the pair for a short while, observing.
'Looks like she is fond of that elf' Lyra frowned, less than pleased as they both peered around the corner at the pair. 'At least, we know what bait to use now' Lyra bit her lip, hesitantly then nodded, he spoke again 'Never thought you would agree with me'.
He knew, admitted he had been one and put name to what she was. They moved to a quiet corner and she made gestures attempting to answer his questions about her lack of voice, similar to what she had shown to 'Crimson' though he did not stop her from those gestures or her mimicking silent screams and choaking waving hands about the air and holding her throat. Poison? it was possible, she had been so little, and indicated her uncertainty of that time with a shrug, touching fingers to her temple as well. She could sense the same malevolence in him as she held in her heart and his next words of advice, she heeded, reluctant to accept the wisdom in his words of all people but realised them for what they were and she nodded.
They drew apart and his open comments on how to treat her thoat had her secretly smirking, the first drowess and 'Crimson' were still 'at it', his attempts at swatting her attentions away had obviously been unsuccessful. The female's attempt at loving, toying caress and touch had 'Crimson's' hand to her throat, pushing the darthir away. Lyra now kept her expression calm, composed, cool as she watched the pair. When he asked to borrow her piercing tool to deal with the female, she paused but shook her head. Too easily linked with her, too openly agreed to. 'Green-eyes' wandered off and 'Crimson' moved on with the drowess following, continuing to harrass. Lyra moved away, in the shadows of a building she donned her cloak and slipped off her tunic to reveal her dark leathers, drew cowl across her face. She would deal with the drowess and pierce its black heart with arrow.
Picking up their trail, she slipped in shadow through the edges of the portal to the Gray Waste to see the pair locked in a struggle. Hunkering down beside a boulder she saw his blade slice and pierce the dark skin, leaving the drowess lying in a pool of blood to the ground. The portal opened and closed as 'Crimson' departed, his blade still dripping with blood, though a grey colour in that plane.
Lyra approached the body, an arrow to her bow, when she heard it whimper, make gargled plea for help. She pulled the string back, intending to end its life. But that would have been too easy, it was not her kill and she heard the sound of slow dragging footsteps of the undead approaching, glanced towards the portal after 'Crimson', she left the drowess to the more interesting fate...a long slow death at the touch of a zombie.
She changed once more out of cloak to tunic, saw 'Crimson' taking drink at the bar deep in his own thoughts, lifted hand in wave to get his attention from where she stood behind the wall but he did not notice. She simply watched a while then padded off in the direction of the Hive Ward.
From across the bazaar she noted the first drowess harassing 'Crimson' as he traded with the woman with the lute. 'Green-eyes' next words rang true for the wisdom they gave her though his familiar term 'baby-doll' had her cringeing. But she followed him at his command seeing that he made to follow 'Crimson' and the harrassing darthir, keeping close to the corners and shadows of the buildings they followed the pair for a short while, observing.
'Looks like she is fond of that elf' Lyra frowned, less than pleased as they both peered around the corner at the pair. 'At least, we know what bait to use now' Lyra bit her lip, hesitantly then nodded, he spoke again 'Never thought you would agree with me'.
He knew, admitted he had been one and put name to what she was. They moved to a quiet corner and she made gestures attempting to answer his questions about her lack of voice, similar to what she had shown to 'Crimson' though he did not stop her from those gestures or her mimicking silent screams and choaking waving hands about the air and holding her throat. Poison? it was possible, she had been so little, and indicated her uncertainty of that time with a shrug, touching fingers to her temple as well. She could sense the same malevolence in him as she held in her heart and his next words of advice, she heeded, reluctant to accept the wisdom in his words of all people but realised them for what they were and she nodded.
They drew apart and his open comments on how to treat her thoat had her secretly smirking, the first drowess and 'Crimson' were still 'at it', his attempts at swatting her attentions away had obviously been unsuccessful. The female's attempt at loving, toying caress and touch had 'Crimson's' hand to her throat, pushing the darthir away. Lyra now kept her expression calm, composed, cool as she watched the pair. When he asked to borrow her piercing tool to deal with the female, she paused but shook her head. Too easily linked with her, too openly agreed to. 'Green-eyes' wandered off and 'Crimson' moved on with the drowess following, continuing to harrass. Lyra moved away, in the shadows of a building she donned her cloak and slipped off her tunic to reveal her dark leathers, drew cowl across her face. She would deal with the drowess and pierce its black heart with arrow.
Picking up their trail, she slipped in shadow through the edges of the portal to the Gray Waste to see the pair locked in a struggle. Hunkering down beside a boulder she saw his blade slice and pierce the dark skin, leaving the drowess lying in a pool of blood to the ground. The portal opened and closed as 'Crimson' departed, his blade still dripping with blood, though a grey colour in that plane.
Lyra approached the body, an arrow to her bow, when she heard it whimper, make gargled plea for help. She pulled the string back, intending to end its life. But that would have been too easy, it was not her kill and she heard the sound of slow dragging footsteps of the undead approaching, glanced towards the portal after 'Crimson', she left the drowess to the more interesting fate...a long slow death at the touch of a zombie.
She changed once more out of cloak to tunic, saw 'Crimson' taking drink at the bar deep in his own thoughts, lifted hand in wave to get his attention from where she stood behind the wall but he did not notice. She simply watched a while then padded off in the direction of the Hive Ward.
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*Pashan01
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She kept her promise to 'Crimson' and sent him a note...she payed a scruffy urchin to find him, giving the child his description. What was in the note was the truth....just only part of the truth and likely only what he had surmised and figured out already. Her debt was paid.
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*Pashan01
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The giant lay at her feet. It had taken all her best arrows and skill to draw it to her near enough for her arrows to pierce, far enough away that she didn't risk being rendered flat by its great feet and crushed.
Blending with the blues of the icey rocks she hid, as it turned away with a grunt searching for her she would fire at its back then run....blending again with the scenery when she reached a suitable shadowy lee of glacial rock.
She repeated this time and time again until it finally lay to the ground, a hundred arrows sticking from its body.
Not that there was anyone there to see, nor that anyone one would have seen it even so, but she grinned in satisfaction beneath her cowl before leaving that plane.
Blending with the blues of the icey rocks she hid, as it turned away with a grunt searching for her she would fire at its back then run....blending again with the scenery when she reached a suitable shadowy lee of glacial rock.
She repeated this time and time again until it finally lay to the ground, a hundred arrows sticking from its body.
Not that there was anyone there to see, nor that anyone one would have seen it even so, but she grinned in satisfaction beneath her cowl before leaving that plane.
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*Pashan01
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Lyra scrubbed at her nails and hands once back in her attic room. He recognised her scent....she realised that she had to be more careful of that in future, had not thought of the perceptive olfactory capacity of people. Her fingers smelled of the oil paints, perhaps a little too of the inks she used for tattooing. She scrubbed harder.
Two things had puzzled her about this one.
She had not decided yet on how to name him....his eyes were green, another shade admittedly, that term she used was already taken. She had allowed him to join her in the ice plane, shared the kill of the elemental, the slaughter of the salamander and the gutting of the chief, her arrows raining down upon them all as he sliced them with dual blade. The thrill of taking down frost giant too she had allowed, calling upon companions both for their skill at diversion, even entered the giant cave for more. He reminded her in some part of Moons-scars...for his affinity at blending to the shadows coupled with his fighting style that complimented her own so well. But it was his use of that longbow that completely caught her attention, made her look to him more closely, think to offer him more. Why did he of all she had met so far, considering his opinions and manner in the bazaar the other day have his hand to a coveted weapon such as that? She....wanted it.....desired it.... despite hoping for one of her own to be crafted soon. But he would not sell it to her.
Back in the bazaar, after switching to her tunic and making purchase of more arrow, she had tried to tempt him to become customer, find out if he was interested in her art, be it tattoo or painting, her aim, to prolong their company. He eventually agreed to pay her for a medium portrait and she beckoned him back to the parlour so that she could collect her easel, canvas and paints. She took them to a nearby abode, one she knew well and began the portrait, allowed him to settle to natural pose, used the greens and brown paints to outline first then fill in, taking care about matching the green and shimmer of his eyes. His appraising of the picture had her frowning. It seemed he was not altogether satisfied with something she had seen and managed to portray, his face contorting in disgust, though he still paid her the agreed sum.
After she had wrapped the artwork, he suggested she make another, proposing one more like those erotic pose examples she had shown him from her sketchbook. Jink was jink, she felt no threat and so she agreed, preparing her paints and another canvas as he divested himself of clothing and took up the same pose as before. Keeping professional outlook and manner herself, though she was not entirely indifferent to his attractive figure, she applied herself to the task. She mixed more warmer skintones, but had to deepen the palette colours to deal with those scars. The first main one was black gash across his chest, the second ran from inner left thigh to calf. It peeked her curiosity, the sombre tones of their colour now matching the mood of this customer.
As she painted, he drew deeper into his own thoughts, and she let her focus deepen into her art until another hour passed during which she made no pause nor offered him respite from the pose. She caught only a little of the emotions that passed this cousin's face as she wrapped the second portrait while he dressed. He paid her more for the second than she had expected and had to remind him to take the paintings, about to walk out without his goods. Outside the house, clutching her easel, palette and paints, she turned to observe him make a prayer, build a pyre and set fire to both canvases, while the harlots leered and smirked and another bystander quietly watched. His face was near expressionless but his actions spoke to her of some inner turmoil and she caught a sad smile as he pulled his hood up to the rain and turned to head back to the bazaar.
Her hand to the handle of the parlour door, she arched a brow, keeping her expression clear, feeling the weight of coin to her pocket and wondered again at the oddity of the male species.
She finished her scrubbing and dried her hands, her skin still holding a tell-tale scent of plain soap if no longer that of the oil paints.
Two things had puzzled her about this one.
She had not decided yet on how to name him....his eyes were green, another shade admittedly, that term she used was already taken. She had allowed him to join her in the ice plane, shared the kill of the elemental, the slaughter of the salamander and the gutting of the chief, her arrows raining down upon them all as he sliced them with dual blade. The thrill of taking down frost giant too she had allowed, calling upon companions both for their skill at diversion, even entered the giant cave for more. He reminded her in some part of Moons-scars...for his affinity at blending to the shadows coupled with his fighting style that complimented her own so well. But it was his use of that longbow that completely caught her attention, made her look to him more closely, think to offer him more. Why did he of all she had met so far, considering his opinions and manner in the bazaar the other day have his hand to a coveted weapon such as that? She....wanted it.....desired it.... despite hoping for one of her own to be crafted soon. But he would not sell it to her.
Back in the bazaar, after switching to her tunic and making purchase of more arrow, she had tried to tempt him to become customer, find out if he was interested in her art, be it tattoo or painting, her aim, to prolong their company. He eventually agreed to pay her for a medium portrait and she beckoned him back to the parlour so that she could collect her easel, canvas and paints. She took them to a nearby abode, one she knew well and began the portrait, allowed him to settle to natural pose, used the greens and brown paints to outline first then fill in, taking care about matching the green and shimmer of his eyes. His appraising of the picture had her frowning. It seemed he was not altogether satisfied with something she had seen and managed to portray, his face contorting in disgust, though he still paid her the agreed sum.
After she had wrapped the artwork, he suggested she make another, proposing one more like those erotic pose examples she had shown him from her sketchbook. Jink was jink, she felt no threat and so she agreed, preparing her paints and another canvas as he divested himself of clothing and took up the same pose as before. Keeping professional outlook and manner herself, though she was not entirely indifferent to his attractive figure, she applied herself to the task. She mixed more warmer skintones, but had to deepen the palette colours to deal with those scars. The first main one was black gash across his chest, the second ran from inner left thigh to calf. It peeked her curiosity, the sombre tones of their colour now matching the mood of this customer.
As she painted, he drew deeper into his own thoughts, and she let her focus deepen into her art until another hour passed during which she made no pause nor offered him respite from the pose. She caught only a little of the emotions that passed this cousin's face as she wrapped the second portrait while he dressed. He paid her more for the second than she had expected and had to remind him to take the paintings, about to walk out without his goods. Outside the house, clutching her easel, palette and paints, she turned to observe him make a prayer, build a pyre and set fire to both canvases, while the harlots leered and smirked and another bystander quietly watched. His face was near expressionless but his actions spoke to her of some inner turmoil and she caught a sad smile as he pulled his hood up to the rain and turned to head back to the bazaar.
Her hand to the handle of the parlour door, she arched a brow, keeping her expression clear, feeling the weight of coin to her pocket and wondered again at the oddity of the male species.
She finished her scrubbing and dried her hands, her skin still holding a tell-tale scent of plain soap if no longer that of the oil paints.
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*Pashan01
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- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
He had still managed to identify her, from faint lingering smell and his recognition of one of her bows. The whole exchange had her thinking that she would need....another outfit, another style and the mask of a different scent, perhaps a perfume to disguise herself at times when it was more necessary than for simple hunting in the planes. She made careful note.
Black-scars was useful to be around for many reasons, she was learning alot, she liked what he could do and their complimentary hunting style, she liked the fact that he too seemed to enjoy the stalk and the hunt. With her 'brothers' distant, hiding, away....lost? She knew not, she had allowed herself to take companionship of a few others, as trial. There were some things that she could not do alone.
During their stalk of the salamanders she noted his use of spell that caught her interest, one she was envious of, one that bested her still to manage with her simple mouthing of cantrips. His elven whisper to summon his companion, the great black panther made her think of her own, rarely whistled for in this plane, he did not fair well with the extreme cold. She tried it once, only for him to take heavy blow from the giant and lope off to tend his wounds.
When Black-scars fell, once the danger had passed and the giant safely finished off, she hesitated briefly, hovering over his body, taking that spare coin she had to her pocket, flipping it in her hand. she let the powers of that small round of metal bring him back to consciousness and she spared one healing kit to ensure he didn't succomb to the freezing cold while weakened. Recovering, shaking his head, still groggy he had looked up to her almost pleadingly and mouthed the word "Why?". She didn't give him any more than a shrug, unwilling to share her reasons, that seemed to leave him a little disappointed.
The help was returned when she stumbled in the ice cave. Too much, unprepared, she could not see it well enough for her arrows to pierce and she easily fell to the harsh spell cast upon her by the frost giant leader on first encounter. He took the pelt that he skinned from the wolf and staunched the bleeding as he turned back to the leader's lair.
'I will bring you back... but we didn't come all this way to leave empty handed'.
She felt herself lifted, her skinny frame hoisted over his shoulder and out of that plane. The touch of cold metal to her lips, she came too, realising her cowl had been lowered and she was lying on the cobbles of the Cage her first thought had her raising her hand to bring cowl up again.
After a shared smile of gratitude, cowl now in place, he offered her an inquisitive look and an outstretched hand, palm upward, offering further help as she still sat to the ground. She looked to his palm, then she shook her head, though still rather weakened, she grinned and and made show of nimbly rising to her feet, gave him a wink and slipped to the shadows of the buildings, padding quietly off.
Black-scars was useful to be around for many reasons, she was learning alot, she liked what he could do and their complimentary hunting style, she liked the fact that he too seemed to enjoy the stalk and the hunt. With her 'brothers' distant, hiding, away....lost? She knew not, she had allowed herself to take companionship of a few others, as trial. There were some things that she could not do alone.
During their stalk of the salamanders she noted his use of spell that caught her interest, one she was envious of, one that bested her still to manage with her simple mouthing of cantrips. His elven whisper to summon his companion, the great black panther made her think of her own, rarely whistled for in this plane, he did not fair well with the extreme cold. She tried it once, only for him to take heavy blow from the giant and lope off to tend his wounds.
When Black-scars fell, once the danger had passed and the giant safely finished off, she hesitated briefly, hovering over his body, taking that spare coin she had to her pocket, flipping it in her hand. she let the powers of that small round of metal bring him back to consciousness and she spared one healing kit to ensure he didn't succomb to the freezing cold while weakened. Recovering, shaking his head, still groggy he had looked up to her almost pleadingly and mouthed the word "Why?". She didn't give him any more than a shrug, unwilling to share her reasons, that seemed to leave him a little disappointed.
The help was returned when she stumbled in the ice cave. Too much, unprepared, she could not see it well enough for her arrows to pierce and she easily fell to the harsh spell cast upon her by the frost giant leader on first encounter. He took the pelt that he skinned from the wolf and staunched the bleeding as he turned back to the leader's lair.
'I will bring you back... but we didn't come all this way to leave empty handed'.
She felt herself lifted, her skinny frame hoisted over his shoulder and out of that plane. The touch of cold metal to her lips, she came too, realising her cowl had been lowered and she was lying on the cobbles of the Cage her first thought had her raising her hand to bring cowl up again.
After a shared smile of gratitude, cowl now in place, he offered her an inquisitive look and an outstretched hand, palm upward, offering further help as she still sat to the ground. She looked to his palm, then she shook her head, though still rather weakened, she grinned and and made show of nimbly rising to her feet, gave him a wink and slipped to the shadows of the buildings, padding quietly off.
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*Pashan01
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Perhaps she had unwisely opened up too much to one but there was a part of her that could not help it...a part that had begun to respond to the affection she sensed he might feel for her, a part she found hard to suppress in herself, but suppress it she must.
He had been keenly expounding to her on his efforts and study to help her regain her voice when she cut him off, thumbing to her chest pointedly, her eyes glinting fiercely, her motion indicating that 'she' was taking care of it. He did not understand or believe her, rightly so, but her voice was not her priority. She folded her arms, her blue eyes cooling rapidly, arching her brow and as she faced him directly she mouthed to him 'You finished?' her manner curt, her intention was to cut him off, close this opening and turn him away. As she made to turn away herself, he caught her arm to prevent her from leaving and tried again, his voice softer this time, spoke of his caring and want to help her. She arched her brow and looked down at where his hand held her arm lightly, forcing her gaze now to an icey stare she paused then slowly slid her arm from his grasp, his hand finally dropping. Her brow furrowed slightly.
'The day will come when you stand high above the ground and look down at your feet and realize you stand upon a pile of corpses of that race... but then again... what will happen next?'
She looked up sharply and showed him what she will do then, spitting to the ground and gesturing with her hands, trickling her fingers down her face to denote her tears, using them to her throat and mouth as she mimicked laughing and crying On that day she would spit to the ground upon the corpses, and let her tears fall, upon that time she would laugh and cry, her tears would give her voice
'So you will make a whole race pay for the doings of... two, three people... and that is how you claim you will regain your voice....? You will get killed.'
She pursed her lips, but straightened her back, looking up to him and mouthed 'justice'. He had thrown the name of 'Green-eyes' back at her then as one who could help her satiate her 'thirst of bloodshed and vengeance'.
She turned away from those crimson-eyes as he turned from her icey blues. She would not let him distract her from her path, suppressed what she needed to and shuttered her girlish emotions down.
He had been keenly expounding to her on his efforts and study to help her regain her voice when she cut him off, thumbing to her chest pointedly, her eyes glinting fiercely, her motion indicating that 'she' was taking care of it. He did not understand or believe her, rightly so, but her voice was not her priority. She folded her arms, her blue eyes cooling rapidly, arching her brow and as she faced him directly she mouthed to him 'You finished?' her manner curt, her intention was to cut him off, close this opening and turn him away. As she made to turn away herself, he caught her arm to prevent her from leaving and tried again, his voice softer this time, spoke of his caring and want to help her. She arched her brow and looked down at where his hand held her arm lightly, forcing her gaze now to an icey stare she paused then slowly slid her arm from his grasp, his hand finally dropping. Her brow furrowed slightly.
'The day will come when you stand high above the ground and look down at your feet and realize you stand upon a pile of corpses of that race... but then again... what will happen next?'
She looked up sharply and showed him what she will do then, spitting to the ground and gesturing with her hands, trickling her fingers down her face to denote her tears, using them to her throat and mouth as she mimicked laughing and crying On that day she would spit to the ground upon the corpses, and let her tears fall, upon that time she would laugh and cry, her tears would give her voice
'So you will make a whole race pay for the doings of... two, three people... and that is how you claim you will regain your voice....? You will get killed.'
She pursed her lips, but straightened her back, looking up to him and mouthed 'justice'. He had thrown the name of 'Green-eyes' back at her then as one who could help her satiate her 'thirst of bloodshed and vengeance'.
She turned away from those crimson-eyes as he turned from her icey blues. She would not let him distract her from her path, suppressed what she needed to and shuttered her girlish emotions down.
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*Pashan01
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- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Four tattoos, two medium to each side of his chest, one to his left rib and a larger one to his upper back. He had described the details to her and they had discussed price.
He was rich this one. Coin seemed to be no object, he even had interesting pieces of enchanted equipment he might trade in exchange for her work and that brought a sly grin to her lips. She measured using span of her hand across his upper body, sized and gave him price and she, by gesture of hand, indicated they would need most likely a couple of sessions to complete the tattoos, depending on his stamina and endurance and that he should return in a couple of days to begin.
He showed to her his wares and after some deliberation she settled upon a fine pair of enchanted leather gloves as payment. Their softness, like gossamer upon her skin, made her feel like she was not wearing gloves at all.
He was rich this one. Coin seemed to be no object, he even had interesting pieces of enchanted equipment he might trade in exchange for her work and that brought a sly grin to her lips. She measured using span of her hand across his upper body, sized and gave him price and she, by gesture of hand, indicated they would need most likely a couple of sessions to complete the tattoos, depending on his stamina and endurance and that he should return in a couple of days to begin.
He showed to her his wares and after some deliberation she settled upon a fine pair of enchanted leather gloves as payment. Their softness, like gossamer upon her skin, made her feel like she was not wearing gloves at all.
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*Pashan01
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- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Words spoken softly, a gentle touch and the pair of hunters seemed to fade, the shadows around them seemed easier to move through. She watched, open mouthed as she saw herself become camouflaged, blending more to the icey scape than she had managed before in this way. She tapped her chest quickly, then her temple, running a finger around her bare neck, but he did not seem to make sense of her gestures. She grinned beneath her cowl, noted his confusion but simply shrugged and lifted her bow, placing her next arrow, ready to continue the hunt, allowing him to choose their direction, following behind at a loping pace as he eagerly set off towards the giants cave.