"Oh, I suppose that might be something worth doing. But when one is immune to the vast majority of known poisons, you don't bother too much learning their tastes." Shrike shrugged, chuckling softly. And the exotic, voluptrous Exalt shook her head, white-tipped red hair swaying against the shoulders of her elegant black dress. "Shrike of Swiftly Striking Talons," she introduces herself with a nod.
A newcomer to Delmah Phor. Unnoticed or ignored by most. Wandering the streets for days. Restless.
They take in the drow around them with dripping disdain for everything they see, looking out from under a ragged hood that only partially obscures a glossy black ceramic mask that covers the right side of their face completely. Their left eye, sallow and yellow, darts from one shadow to the next, ever vigilant.
The dull green cloak trails the ground behind them, soaking up the filth. Their form is androgynous to a marked degree, making it impossible to judge their gender. On their right arm they wear gloved leather sleeve that runs from their shoulder to their fingertips. The rest of their outfit is almost surprisingly expensive looking, given the rest of their appearance.
What is there left of me to wither away? I shall not die by any hand but your own.
They turn onto market street and pause. Lost again already. They curse the city and all its streets. But there is a commotion nearby. Anything to distract them at this point. They move in that direction.
Remnant's Acting Commander Alice Delisle is still here with her escort Sanction Commnder Vyrn. If Art doesn't mine, I'd like to handwave that she's been mingling with npcs and sampling the refreshments all this time rather than being a wallflower.
Her player just sucks at formal small talk even more than the casual taverny sort. But if anyone wants to encounter her, feel free.
"Nothing more or less than my irritation, madam. That's all Dipsnig can ever hope to accomplish, but he does it quite well."
Magtok tries his best not to notice Sszinyon. This isn't the time or place to feel guilty about foolishly sparing the guy's life. There's too many people Maggy felt obligated to destroy but didn't, and nowhere near enough time to be wasted feeling awful about it.
"I'm sorry to say that this rumor is quite strong in Underside colony, however," Boss Flatnose says. "Razortooth is quite popular down there and the rumor is considered amusing." She pauses. "It's been a pleasure to meet you, Lord Magtok, but I can't occupy all of your time here. Farewell." The Boss nods and both she and her general take their leave, looking for someone else to talk to and offend with their goblinness.
Dipsnig, meanwhile, is also looking for someone for much the same reasons.
__________________
My FFRP characters. Avatar by Kid Kris. Sigatars by Gulaghar, Kid Kris, Zefir and billtodamax, respectively.
Sszinyon in return raised his chin, defiant and arrogant, refusing to bow to a woman, especially a non-drow. "I am Sszinyon Xar'Cha, Secondboy of House Xabaresh Chaeron." The drow nods to the armored man beside him. "This is my companion, Endrik.
[Market Street]
The newcomer may encounter a drowess enjoying the festivities. She stood out from the crowd for many reasons. Foremost was the color of her skin. Not the jet black or dusky brown of most drow, but the deep ink-like blue particular to the females of House Xar'Cha. This earned her some reverence from those around her, the crowd was subtly giving her a bit of space. This may have also been due to the delicate red scales that traced her features, and the small horns that followed her hairline, a clear indication of draconic heritage. She was obviously a powerful person and yet, she was dressed in common travelling clothes. Sturdy, designed to last, but not overly expensive. Surely not of the caliber a lady of House Xar'Cha would wear. Also, she was smiling, and not with the cruel smirk that traced many a drow's lips, but a genuine smile. Whoever she was, she was certainly an oddity.
"Ah well, it was at my personal suggestion frankly. There are many untapped resources here in the Nexus, though my half-brother has been a bit single-minded about this city in particular. The surface races here are poorly fit for... proper labor, but there are other uses. For instance, a large number of them are quite loose with things of excessive monetary value. If the palace here is any indication, we've made a fortune just through trade."
"You certainly came a long way to visit us." Ilpholin adds, now that location has sort of been brought up.
Xar'Cha Palace
"I must admit I have been rather curious as to your success up here. Times have been hard on the Baenneld family down below, and so we are scouting out new opportunities for alliance wherever they come. Thankfully our wits and strength of magic have spared us from the majority of our troubles." This may be a novel experience for Ilpholin. A drow, even a young one like Elvanriina, being open and honest about a weakness with her is rather different to say the least.
The stranger indeed notices the drowess. They are at first curious, but that gives way to a feeling of disgust at everything about her. But that is how they feel about everything. There is something else, though. A fascination. Something about the drowess is compelling to the stranger. They approach her through the crowd but pause, unsure of what to say.
Greetings. Forgive my intrusion, but surely such rabble as this is not befitting one of your... obvious high standing.
A smile graces the uncovered half of their face. It is as typical a smile as one can expect from a drow raised in the underdark. Not at all friendly. But it also has a somewhat unhinged quality to it as well.
__________________
Not really here. Just an illusion.
Oh don't be silly. That's clearly not the whole story and is at best an attempt to draw Ilpholin into a false sense of security. What better way to fish out your enemies than to admit to a false weakness?
Ilpholin won't fall for such bait though. No, she's far too paranoid clever for that. "Thank Lloth. There are plenty of opportunities for alliances, I think, particularly on AMEN's end, but I cannot officially speak for the Xar'cha's as a whole."
"So does your family specialize in magic?"
__________________
There is happiness for those who accept their fate.
There is glory for those who resist their fate.
The drowess gives the stranger an odd look. "Whatever do you mean?" She seems confused by their statement. "These people are nice enough, don't you think? I wouldn't call them rabble at all." Though, she had noticed the space they were giving her. "It's the scales, isn't it? It's always the scales..." She concludes with a sigh.
Oh don't be silly. That's clearly not the whole story and is at best an attempt to draw Ilpholin into a false sense of security. What better way to fish out your enemies than to admit to a false weakness?
Ilpholin won't fall for such bait though. No, she's far too paranoid clever for that. "Thank Lloth. There are plenty of opportunities for alliances, I think, particularly on AMEN's end, but I cannot officially speak for the Xar'cha's as a whole."
"So does your family specialize in magic?"
Xar'Cha Palace
Elvanriina momentarily purples in indignation, but visibly calms herself before whatever tantrum was building up can be unleashed, "I suppose having been cut off from the Underdark for so long your family would not recall the Baenneld so vividly anymore. It's no fault of your own." Her tone shifts from forced sweetness to the patronizing tones one uses to instruct a child without so much as a moment's pause, "The Baenneld are not merely specialized in magic, we are bred for it. Lolth-blessed to touch the arcane in ways other drow have scarcely imagined. It was a source of much envy, and even more conflict, before we left the confines of the Underdark for new opportunity."
Endrik inclined his head when he was introduced, noting that the woman's name seemed... somewhat pretentious, perhaps? A shrike was a small bird, he knew... Endrik was not especially familiar with Exalted. "Pleasure," he said simply.
Turning his helmeted head, he looked over at the apparently largely untouched refreshments. "What," he muttered, pitching the question low enough that nobody far away should be able to hear, "is the probability thay have poisoned any of the food?" He didn't expect Shrike to know, or care, but Sszy might.
"Forgive me. When it comes to my studies, I prefer to let my other brother handle it. I'm mostly just invested in my family's history." Ilpholin explains.
"Where are you located now?"
__________________
There is happiness for those who accept their fate.
There is glory for those who resist their fate.
"Not anywhere specifically, but we'll be looking for a place in the city to reside permanently in due time. Ryldolin, eat both slivers and wait a few moments, thank you." No sense in not exercising a healthy amount of paranoia after all. What use is a personal attendant provided by your hosts if they can't test your food for common poisons?
"Your brother is a scholar then? I haven't noticed much of a tendency outside of my own family to allow males to handle the lore. Of course, ours is bred out of necessity more than inclination."
"Something like that." Ilpholin says without elaborating one bit. Cause, Nadas. Eww.
"Your family goes out of its way to breed males?" Ilpholin presumes magic is involved somehow. But any family desperate enough to do that must be failing. Might need to try to absorb it entirely rather than set up some sort of alliance.
__________________
There is happiness for those who accept their fate.
There is glory for those who resist their fate.
Ryldolin opens his mouth to respond, and likely not well, but he remembers his place before he says a word. The drow boy eats each of the slivers. Hopefully her paranoia is unfounded.
The drowess gives the stranger an odd look. "Whatever do you mean?" She seems confused by their statement. "These people are nice enough, don't you think? I wouldn't call them rabble at all." Though, she had noticed the space they were giving her. "It's the scales, isn't it? It's always the scales..." She concludes with a sigh.
The stranger is a little baffled. Of all the drow they have met, this one takes the baked fungal confection. Their smile wavers and hints on sheer detestation but they pull it in line. Allies. New allies are crucial and this one seems high enough in the social circles of Delmah Phor to be useful and lonely enough to be manipulated.
It very likely might be the scales. Drow with draconic patronage have always been seen as dangerous and, to some, rather beautiful. These lowly peasants are likely afraid to offend you with their presence.
They smile broader.
Pray tell, to what house do you belong?
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Not really here. Just an illusion.
"Ah, Restaurante Enchante. One of my personal favorites." Kirk says. When Lillanthil addresses his drow companion, Kirk has to stop himself from chuckling. It makes him wonder why exactly she wants to keep her name to herself. He's sure he doesn't know her. Well, at least mostly sure.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Murkus
"Alexis!" The drowess chooses, grinning. She'd always liked the name. It'd do for now. "And I'd just love that. You look beautiful. What's her name?"
[Xar'Cha Palace]
"I'm pleased you hold it in such high esteem." Says Lillanthil. "And my seamstress' name is Leah."
Lanthil falls silent as the child-matron is heralded and brought in, watching the proceedings with calculated interest.
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Quote:
Originally Posted by IronStylus (on boobplates)
I still consider myself a feminist despite having a biological attraction to certain parts of female anatomy and the desire to now and again see plate metal curvaceously wrapping around their sensual forms in a cradle of cold, sumptuous, steel.
"Something like that." Ilpholin says without elaborating one bit. Cause, Nadas. Eww.
"Your family goes out of its way to breed males?" Ilpholin presumes magic is involved somehow. But any family desperate enough to do that must be failing. Might need to try to absorb it entirely rather than set up some sort of alliance.
Xar'Cha Palace
Elvanriina ignores her temporary attendant for now. If he collapses in agony anytime soon she'll know her caution was warranted.
"I think you've misunderstood. Our tendency to allow males to handle more important duties is bred out of necessity, we don't actually breed males purposefully. There happens to be few females left with the capability to perform all the necessary duties and still have time for magical research, so some jobs go elsewhere." She waves a hand, making light of her clan's difficulties with the gesture and casting her eyes about the room again, pausing on Lilanthil before carrying on for a moment to someone else just past her.
Sszinyon lowers his voice, not wanting to alarm the non-drow around them, however his tone was simply informative, almost casual. "The large dishes meant for everyone to share are almost certainly safe." Almost. With much of the leadership of the city here tonight, it would be an opportunity to remove them all at once. Though Sszinyon knew it was a risky play, even if successful. He had never known his family to take such wild risks. Another House, though, one could not say. "Individual items taken from larger plates are likely safe as well, as it can never be certain who may take which item. Tainting one or all would be risky and foolish. If a singular item is handed to you by someone you know, it is likely safe, because open murder is frowned upon, unless a delayed poison is involved, or some other creative method. Accept nothing from the anonymous servers. They could be working for anyone and could not be traced, except, perhaps, back to my own House, who could always claim the server was acting on his own, or blame another House. The truth of it? It matters not, only the resulting justice and loss of station."
[Market Street]
The dragon-blooded drow frowns in thought. "Well... my father is of House Xabaresh Chaeron." She seemed hesitant to admit it. Her pronunciation of the drow words is strange, as well, more melodic than the usual Menzoberrani tongue.
Sszinyon in return raised his chin, defiant and arrogant, refusing to bow to a woman, especially a non-drow. "I am Sszinyon Xar'Cha, Secondboy of House Xabaresh Chaeron." The drow nods to the armored man beside him. "This is my companion, Endrik.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Destro_Yersul
Endrik inclined his head when he was introduced, noting that the woman's name seemed... somewhat pretentious, perhaps? A shrike was a small bird, he knew... Endrik was not especially familiar with Exalted. "Pleasure," he said simply.
Turning his helmeted head, he looked over at the apparently largely untouched refreshments. "What," he muttered, pitching the question low enough that nobody far away should be able to hear, "is the probability thay have poisoned any of the food?" He didn't expect Shrike to know, or care, but Sszy might.
"Secondboy? An unconventional format of title. If titles are being provided though, I am Solar Exalted, of the Night Caste," Shrike replied, nodding to Endrik as well. "An honor to make your acquaintiance."
Endrik's question merits a raised eyebrow, but she lets One Who Would Know answer instead of herself.
"...ah. Well, I don't believe I, at least, have anything to worry about." And she chuckles at that.
"That depends, would you mind having your entrails turned into a nest of razorbacked maggots? I would not be the Matron if I weren't the most powerful and talented mage in the family. My knowledge is limited to the most cruel and powerful of our spells, as I have little time to learn parlor tricks to impress people at parties." Point sufficiently made, Elvanriina reaches over and grabs one half of the pastry she asked for, gesturing to Ilpholin to indicate she can have the other one if she likes. The young matron takes a delicate sniff of her own confectionery and it's as if a switch is flipped in her brain. Her entire demeanor changes from cool and collected, if a bit haughty, drowess to a child with a massive sweet in her hands. Eyes sparkling, she dives into the treat and takes a huge bite that leaves her cheeks puffed out like a squirrel's and smears sugary glaze all over her lower face.
"Oh god tethe are thooooooo good." She mumbles around the mass of food she's attempting to swallow whole.
Ilpholin rolls her eyes. "Even the best of the best know they must start with the basics and work their way up, even if they do skip over of some of the unimportant steps. So forgive me your delicateness. A simple no would have sufficed." Ilpholin doesn't believe for a second that the little girl doesn't have a useful cantrip or two she could have used.
"You may have mine." Ilpholin says, giving a slight bow before turning to head off. She's not going to start eating other people's food now. Especially where her family is concerned.
__________________
There is happiness for those who accept their fate.
There is glory for those who resist their fate.
The boy looks just a little bit relieved when the matron decides to eat the pastry. He doesn't comment, however. Instead he just occupies himself with looking off in the distance. There's got to be something interesting happening in his line of sight.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Kid Kris
[Xar'Cha Palace]
"I'm pleased you hold it in such high esteem." Says Lillanthil. "And my seamstress' name is Leah."
Lanthil falls silent as the child-matron is heralded and brought in, watching the proceedings with calculated interest.
[Xar'Cha Palace]
Kirk's eyes wander to the young Matron as well, but only out of idle curiosity. "It looks like we're getting all the important guests today. Not that I expected less. The Matron Mothers are the big movers and shakers of the Underdark after all." Is there a touch of sarcasm in his voice?
The dragon-blooded drow frowns in thought. "Well... my father is of House Xabaresh Chaeron." She seemed hesitant to admit it. Her pronunciation of the drow words is strange, as well, more melodic than the usual Menzoberrani tongue.
That is not the answer the stranger was expected. But it is interesting for certain. This woman will prove even more useful than they previously thought.
Xar'Cha? Forgive me. I didn't know I was speaking with someone of such an influential house. Why do you speak it with so much hesitation? It is a fine house to be a member of. Certainly not one to be ashamed of.
__________________
Not really here. Just an illusion.
Elvanriina doesn't even bother replying, mouth too full of pastry to form words around it at this point. With Ilpholin gone though, she can move on to another conversation with another partygoer. She finishes up her pastry and wipes her face on a handkerchief daintily before skipping over to Magtok of all people, showing a complete lack of the decorum she displayed earlier. She manages to casually glide past Lilanthil on her way there, having noticed the look she was being given.
Once she comes up level to Magtok, she looks him up and down twice before uttering, "You know, it's a shame you chose to come dressed so casually Lady Magtok. I've heard many wonderful things about your taste in dresses, and was hoping you would have demonstrated it tonight. I'm sure you could have outshone all the other women here, except perhaps myself."
Ryldolin starts a bit as Elvanriina takes off. Whoops, he should have been paying attention. He moves quickly to keep up to her as she heads toward Magtok. Once they arrive, he stands tall (for a ten year old) and looks a lot more attentive than he did moments earlier.
"Makes me wonder how such a little one got to be matron," 'Alexis' says, watching the tiny house-mother mingle. "We should go ask."
__________________ The (somewhat) overdue avatar of Adir, my FFRP character, was done by Gulaghar. Thanks!
Spoiler
In a dream I found a place
of rotting meat and eldritch grace
and looked upon his primordial face
and from my thoughts could not erase
that sense of time that sense of space
and my heart the darkness did embrace.
-Johanna Stokes
"Likewise," Naitiri says, smiling brightly at the Queen. A queen? Of what, she would have to ask. She turns to Tobias. "We represent a variety of interests. Genetic engineering, bodily augmentation, and robotics foremost among them."
Fascinating. And Tobias really considers those fields fascinating. What he isn't so thrilled about is the idea of the drow using them. HALO has a... magical genetic engineer, but we don't use any real augmentations.
__________________
"No friend ever served me,
and no enemy ever wronged me,
whom I have not repaid in full."
-Lucius Cornelius Sulla
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Re: [Nexus] Delmah Phor
But if anyone wants to encounter her, feel free.
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