An Ebony Stone in the Rough
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		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Extreme =&gt; Extreme Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: Xanatos on 24-04-2010, 07:46:53</h2>
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				Title: <strong>An Ebony Stone in the Rough</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xanatos</strong> on <strong>24-04-2010, 07:46:53</strong>
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				<span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size"><strong>An Ebony Stone in the Rough</strong></span><br><br><br><span style="font-size: 12pt;" class="bbc_size"><strong>Story One, "To Be A Drow"</strong></span><br><br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i651.photobucket.com/albums/uu234/darkxanatos/UndergroundLakeinaCavernMexico.jpg)</div><br>Journeying through the cavernous Underdark was not at all what the lot of its newest arrivals had been expecting. Utter darkness pervaded everything save where bio-luminescent fungus of all shapes and forms grew profusely; sparing the need, occasionally, for torches to light the way. These various forms of fungus surprisingly illuminated entire rooms and in one area had illuminated an entire cavern which seemed huge beyond belief. They glowed in purples, greens, blues, reds, oranges, yellows, seemingly any color possible. It was beautiful. Many entrances could be seen to dozens or more tunnels. It all seemed so massive beyond belief, the Underdark hid more than anyone could imagine, it was more than a literal labyrinth. Silence, it was deafening in its void. No one had expected to hear nothing; the world of the surface was always full of noise, it was a rare thing to hear nothing. How could a world exist without sound?<br><br>For several days there was no sign of life, not one. Another mystery among what they were quickly finding out was only one of countless more. This world was so wildly different from their own. What had they gotten themselves into? It was disheartening seeing nothing as this route was supposed to be traveled by merchants who sought to trade with the Drow city of Archrand, why then had they not seen anyone yet; surely they should have seen at least one Drow patrol. Perhaps these Drow hid themselves? It was possible from what they had heard; the Drow were masters of the art of stealth. For all they knew they were already being watched by those whom they wished to become.<br><br>Slowly but surely the feeling of being lost and so far off course began sinking in and caused a soft but growing feeling of dread. Had they come all this way to become lost? If they could not find the city would they be able to return to the surface? These were not feelings most were accustomed too, they were troubling feelings. Everyone had to suppress even the smallest doubts for their desire to become Drow were so strong they could not let doubt erode away their dreams, their darkest and deepest desire. <br><br>Rounding the bend of one seemingly endless tunnel of smooth circular rock wall, which had proven to be an annoyance as it caused them all to walk single file, unless they wanted to walk cockeyed along the wall, they saw bright lights or what to them seemed like lights. It glowed in what looked to be a rainbow of colors, shining brighter than any light they had seen since abandoning the surface world and its blessed light. As they came to the edge of a cliff which over hanged a massive cavern they could make out what looked to be civilization. <br><br>As they stood watching what seemed to be their goal ahead, they heard their first sound below, the first sign of life, save for their own. Upon looking down the cliff, to the left, they saw several caravans heading into a tunnel; each caravan was comprised of many people, most of whom they assumed were guards. Rumors spoke of how dangerous this under world was, although thus far they had run into no trouble, aside from some arduous climbs and slippery falls. So at last, it would seem they had found there way but through a different, seemingly unused tunnel. <br><br>Unbeknownst to the party, they were being watched from far above by a patrol of four Drow, mounted on giant lizards able to climb the walls with ease. The Drow were upside down and not the least bit affected by the blood rushing to their heads. They looked down inspecting the new arrivals, instantly marking them as surface dwellers. <div class="floatright">(http://i651.photobucket.com/albums/uu234/darkxanatos/DrowonLizardmount.jpg)</div><br><br>After a tricky climb down and nearly an hours walk the group made it to the, what they found out, was an outpost. After having gotten some unfriendly directions from the local soldiers, the group was directed to the north where the city was, located in an even bigger cavern. Their first interaction with their beings of admiration had been terse and short. Was this what they had been expecting? Perhaps not, perhaps this was an exception. <br><br>An interesting note that everyone could easily see was the Drow wore light type armor where as most soldiers on the surface tended to wear medium to heavy type armors. It was clear the Drow favored grace over protection. Their weapons also reflected the philosophy, being smaller and much easier to wield in a graceful and almost assuredly, deadly manner. This proved at least one rumor true, the Drow were creatures of lithe grace who preferred the agility of a feline to the hulking might of an Orge. <br><br>Time seemed none existent as the group made their way now having put all doubts to rest in a deep grave; they were almost there, they had made it, their hopes would soon come to fruition. Archrand's mighty southern wall loomed ahead, a giant spider motif inlaid into the adamantine wall itself enough to send shivers up and down the spines of any who held its malevolent glory. It captivated their sight for several minutes as they drew nearer and nearer, it growing and growing in size until it seemed a monstrosity beyond any scope they knew of, its size seemingly rivaling that of a Dragon. It was breath taking and horrifying all at once. To those with a discerning eye, it almost seemed more than just a decoration but without being able to take a close look and examine it thoroughly any conjecture was pointless. All they knew for sure was that is was nothing less than intimidating.<br><br>Many caravans, six to be exact, waited outside the city wall under the looming gaze of the giant arachnid, its eight eyes seeming almost to follow their every move. The people gathered around consisted of all Human save for what looked like a Dwarf but with gray skin and no hair except for a white beard. None of them had heard of gray skinned Dwarves before. <br><br>None of the caravan personnel paid them any heed, save for several male Drow who stalked around the caravans keeping an eye on everyone. The women of the group noticed some of the Drow stared at them leeringly, seemingly finding the Humans appealing. Who knew what their vile minds wanted to do to the pale skinned females. Within minutes, however, their wait was ended as the gate slowly began to open without making the slightest of noises; that in of itself was almost frightening, as if the gate was an enemy sneaking up upon them to slit their throats. The male Drow disappeared into the darkness, beyond their torchlight, leaving the foreigners to their business in what the party had been told was the foreign district of Archrand, the only place most non-Drow would ever see.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; (http://i651.photobucket.com/albums/uu234/darkxanatos/DrowCity.jpg)<br><br><br>Upon entrance the first thing to greet their eyes was the splendor of the Drow architecture. The structures were just as beautiful, if not more so, than surface Elven architecture. Every piece of stone had its place and filled it perfectly. Every building as a smooth curve, most circular in nature and every inch of the structures flowed around the stone in which many were built into. Even the ones which were not built into a stalagmite or stalactite seemed to flow as if they had been built into the dark stone. Only the stone which harbored the beautiful fungi was untouched for it was obvious the fungi was spared as it served to illuminate the city; why exactly, since the Drow could see in darkness, was beyond them. Everything seemed to have a dark haunting beauty to it. If the foreign district was this beautiful, how full of beauty could the parts of the city where the Drow live be?<br><br>The next thing they noticed was an abundance of creatures, aside from more Humans, that they had never even heard of. Some were hard to describe, another race looks almost like fish men, and they saw more gray colored Dwarves. The streets were covered in what they knew to be Kobolds, tiny little lizard creatures which were the worlds runt of the litter of races; wretches all of them. Here in the Underdark among the Drow, it seemed their existence had found a new low. These undesirable creatures scurried about cleaning, squeaking, and squealing when the whip of a Goblin snapped against their scrawny backs. Even the “overlord” Goblins looked scared and filthy; they seemed little better off than those they tormented, it seemed their only solace was having had the great fortune of having been born of a race more 'favorably' looked down upon by their Drow masters than those despicable stick lizards. <br><br>Several Hobgoblins stood in stout and straight stance near what looked like a tavern, both holding spears ramrod straight in their grasps, the butt of the spear dead on the hard stone floor. Orc's, some obviously slaves by the collars around their necks, and others seemingly free wandered around on various tasks. Few Drow were seem but they were around; the few which were seen were the fearsome looking male guards, no female Drow had been seen yet, only males. Apparently being a foot soldier was to good for the matriarchal society the females lead. Every sign was written in Ilythiiri, and luckily everyone could read it. A sign caught their attention, “Magistrates Office”. A good place to find someone in charge, how else would they work their way up the food chain to prove they were worthy of becoming Drow?
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				Title: <strong>Re: An Ebony Stone in the Rough</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Mr Self Destruct</strong> on <strong>27-04-2010, 06:03:02</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">&nbsp; &nbsp;(http://i132.photobucket.com/albums/q15/doogieporker/EyeoftheAssassin.jpg)</div>Hannibal was a man that feared very little.<br><br>But despite his lack of fear and the confidence of a killer within him, the Underdark was causing his dark little heart to tremble.&nbsp; Every sound had him glaring in the direction it had come from, as if challenging the darkness.&nbsp; What might emerge wasn't what worried him...what worried him was whether or not they would survive to accomplish their task.&nbsp; The lot of them had all one common goal in mind, and it was something that some might consider absolutely foolish...become drow.&nbsp; Give up their humanity, and transform, magically or otherwise, into a dark elf, the very creatures who the surface world often associated with hatred, fear, and loathing.<br><br>To Hannibal, it was the epitome of his existance.&nbsp; Ever since he'd first encountered the dark elf that had come so very close to killing him, he'd been obsessed with somehow coming to understand just what it was that allowed these flimsy little creatures to be such deadly warriors.&nbsp; Surely with their slight frame and nimble weapons they could not be more than annoying pests.&nbsp; But Hannibal, of all people, knew that a nimble dagger could do much more harm than a hulking greataxe...especially when weilded by a trained killer like himself.<br><br>As they neared the glimmering city, Hannibal's eyes widened, then narrowed.&nbsp; He didn't want to be taken unawares by any that might be watching he and his group of traveling surface dwellers.&nbsp; A small part of him knew they were outmatched....the city was surely teeming with thousands of the dark and nimble warriors.&nbsp; But another part of him, the warrior who wouldn't surrender, the killer who never stopped until his foe was dead reveled at the thought of facing another dark elf, this time on his home turf.&nbsp; <br><br>Pushing his bloodlust away, he focused on his task.&nbsp; They were here for one reason and one reason only: become dark elves.&nbsp; They'd traveled this far, and it was far too late to lose focus of their goal.&nbsp; Straightening his shoulders, he stopped, peering at the sign ahead, before turning back to his traveling companions.<br><br>"That's a good a place as any to start, I'd say..." he said.&nbsp; "Or should we look elsewhere?"
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				Title: <strong>Re: An Ebony Stone in the Rough</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Demik</strong> on <strong>29-04-2010, 04:03:41</strong>
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				At first the silent darkness had comforted Kamilsa. She had always thought the world was too noisy and this perfect stillness and silence was a welcome relief. The pitch blackness wrapping around them was like a comforting blanket. After days of this and no sight of any kind of life at all she did begin to become a little uneasy. One of the things she had been curious about was the creatures who lived down here in these tunnels so it disappointed her deeply when they ran into nothing. Not even a mouse or insect. She had hoped to study the blood of these creatures of the Underdark she had heard rumors of but there seemed to be none. This was something very disconcerting to a Blood Mage who relied on the blood of others to perform her magics. <br><br>She was sure the disappointment and discomfort would be worth it though. They were on a quest to become what she believed was the most perfect being in existence. They were seeking to become Drow. The beautiful dark-skinned Elves of the Underdark who were feared and hated by all. That was exactly what she wanted to be. It would also grant her the one thing she craved the most: more time on this world.<br><br>Then, at long last, civilization, life! Even the curt directions of the guards were very welcome. That great spider awed her even as it sent a small chill down her spine. As the great gates finally opened she absently ran her fingertips along the hidden vials of blood along the edge of her skirt. Kamilsa always kept several on her person at all times but she had many more hidden in her extra-dimensional space. She walked with a cold confidence, holding her back straight as her hips swayed. Her long hair, which was as black as the deepest shadows, flowed down her back like a cape touching the backs of her knees. Her pale green orbs surveyed everything around them from the flowing architecture to the many beings that scurried or lumbered about. <br><br>Those dark-skinned Dwarves caught her attention. She immediately wondered what sort of magical properties their blood would hold. Soon she would have to get her hands on some to test it. The Blood Mage also planned on getting samples from all of the beings down here to test it and see if living in the Underdark changed it. <br><br>Archrand was even more beautiful than she had imagined it. She wanted to run her hands along the smooth stone of the buildings but for now she refrained from doing so. Kamilsa noticed the male Drow leering at her and the other women in the group. While she was very interested in experiencing a Drow male it would be on her terms not theirs. She glared at them as they leered, daring them to try something. If she hadn't known it would cause more troubles she would have drawn her scythe to look all the more threatening. When he spoke she looked at Hannibal and then to the place he indicated. With a nod she said, "I believe you are correct. A Magistrate seems like the perfect place to start. Let's go." The mage began walking to the building with butterflies of excitement fluttering in her stomach. They were truly here and so close to their goal she could taste it.
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				Title: <strong>Re: An Ebony Stone in the Rough</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nim</strong> on <strong>29-04-2010, 06:16:26</strong>
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				In previous years before she had found herself in the present company of her new companions Yuri had spent time searching in different caves and caverns searching for any clues which might help her find a way to the Drows underground homes.&nbsp; But even those experiences had not quite prepared her for the complete solitude of these far deeper and ever reaching caverns the size of which threatening to boggle the mind.&nbsp; There had been a number of times she had been tempted to turn to one of the mages and ask them why they did not try to provide some light but they had talked about many things before leaving one of which being that they did not want to do anything to bring undue attention to themselves as they made their journey.<br><br>Even though her hands rested lightly on one hilt or another of one of her two swords she never thought to draw one of them out.&nbsp; In the utter silence of these caverns that sound would have been like someone screeching at the top of their lungs for the sound of cold steal scrapping on the edge of its sheath was already one of the most distinctive of sounds.&nbsp; One that was very sweet music to her ears.&nbsp; Her deep frown caving in her cheeks even more than her normal sour expression would have done.&nbsp; Her sharp dark brown eyes missing nothing as they darted around at everything within her sight.&nbsp; Even with her darksight some of these caverns were so vast that the ends of them could not be seen.&nbsp; <br><br>The unmistakable feeling of being watched plagued her heart and mind.&nbsp; But she kept her lips sealed tight.&nbsp; Nothing was going to stand in her way of achieving her life long goal.&nbsp; Not even the startling sight of the huge arachnid caused even the slightest intake of her breath.&nbsp; For years she had worked diligently in learning to control every single muscle in her body.&nbsp; A fact that was attested to by its obvious strength.&nbsp; The only sounds of their passing coming from their clothing but even those sounds were nearly non existent for all of them moved as if they were shadows themselves.&nbsp; Yuri's clothing were all of a light leather armor that left her arms and legs free for movement.&nbsp; Her forearms were covered with leather gauntlets that held some of her throwing knives which could be released at a moments notice for use.&nbsp; The bracers on her legs held more hidden blades.&nbsp; The armor had been of her own make and design.&nbsp; It was the closest she could come from what she had remembered the Drow had worn who had attacked her fathers caravan so many years before.<br><br>Yuri met the leers of the men with her own cold unyielding stare.&nbsp; Dark Elves or no she would not be the first to yield in a battle of wills.&nbsp; Yuri had not come all this way and worked so hard just to be gawked at by some man that could not keep his eyes in his own head.&nbsp; Her hand lightly resting on the handle of her long sword her eyes never wavering as she met and held one of the mans gaze.&nbsp; Her blood yearning for action almost daring the man to act.&nbsp; Yuri did not let any of the satisfaction she felt show on her face as the man actually turned away first. <br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"That's a good a place as any to start, I'd say..." he said.&nbsp; "Or should we look elsewhere?"</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"I believe you are correct. A Magistrate seems like the perfect place to start. Let's go." </blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> Yuri glanced at the others (looking towards Hannibal first, she held a lot of respect for the man who had taught her quite a bit and had been the first to leave a scar on one of her arms in the process) in her group giving them all a slight nod before she followed after Kamilsa.&nbsp; She would have liked to study the outside of the architecture more but Kamilsa was already opening the door to the Magistrates office and they had a far more pressing goal than just sight seeing to attend to. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: An Ebony Stone in the Rough</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>30-04-2010, 02:27:41</strong>
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				The Underdark. Finally. She should be scared, afraid of what awaited her. A small part of her even felt anticipation, dread, the threat of being destroyed, but it mattered not. For long years she had pursued every hint of knowledge, sought understanding of and entrance to this world of Drow, had finally found confirmation of a rumour that had sounded far too good, a wild dream that could not possibly come true. Never had she wanted anything more, never had doubt been more prominent in her mind, too well did she know the one thing blinding people to anything else was their deepest longing, their heart's desire, apparently in their reach. She had had no intention to fall into a trap she used herself with such efficiency.<br><br>But it had withstood all probing, her precious information, it had been true, all of it, and now, here she was, walking in single file over and along smoothed stones, in utter silence. Already she was cut off from life above with blessed finality. She drank in the beauty of this world she wanted to make a home, never doubting the way was correct. She knew this path - for more it hardly was, being this narrow - lead towards her destiny, she had learned every twist and turn by heart, and found every single landmark just as described. Surely the path would be watched, more often and more closely so the nearer it wound towards this remarkable city where surface dwellers were welcome, goods sold and bought, bargains awaited. <br><br>Days later, and although it was more difficult to keep trace of time down here, Ciara could hold on to her inner sense of time, as she had hoped, a slippery, treacherous descent awaited, and then, the first outpost. The gruffness of the Drow did not surprise her, being what they were, how else should these superior creatures treat mere humans? There was only a very slight unease gnawing away at her, unrelated to their lack of politeness. Half an hour later, she groomed her body, hair and face to perfection, changed into appealing and revealing clothes, added jewellery. Perfection, her travelling companions might notice, was an adequate term to describe the body none of them had ever seen much of before, its youthful, immaculate skin, symmetry and proportions were a marvel, its beauty stunning, confirming every rumour that had been spread in the city that once had been their home. <br><br>There was a reason for her preparations, they were close, now to the city itself, and she meant to make an impression that did not belie either her beauty or her wealth, she was a woman of patience, who knew how long they would be expected to live as common traders outside the city's heart, for how long they would be waiting, what they might need to offer for to be transformed into the proud mighty beings they admired? One must not come a beggar, but hold promise, show the advantage awaiting those willing to let her live, make use of her talents, have dealings with her. Thus, she approached the city dressed in the finest fabrics and colours found above ground, in all her beauty, carrying goods highly desirable and almost impossible to come by, especially for Drow. <br><br>Then, it spread before her hungry eyes, this jewel gleaming in the dark, Archrand, seat of all her hopes. She admired it, craved to melt into it, even dwelling on its outskirts would be better than anything humankind could offer. Ignoring the dangers, grace and confidence in every movement and posture, she passed the caravans, evaluating the goods and slaves they offered, drinking in every scrap of information whatever she saw offered, ready to make the best of use of it. To the leering glances she reacted with her famous smile, understanding, amusement and promise in her eyes, a connaisseuse's smile that told she did not offer herself, but provided those who performed whatever services might be wanted. <br><br>She was pleased to find her skill for providing sexual pleasures and amusement perfectly matching her clients' tastes and needs, their most secret, most profound desires, even, no matter what they might be, could prove just as useful here as it had been above ground. Quick to adopt the customs of the watching Drow, and thus ignoring the inferior male, her eyes sought Kamilsa's, when the other woman spoke, to exchange a quick glance of complicity with her, expecting the other would be just as pleased as she herself was upon finding that one of their favourite weapons, sex, promised an advantage here, too. To the warrior she was quite unfamiliar with, who bore a name Ciara only knew as male, but who was a shadow mage, too, and female, though she hardly looked the part, she gave a polite nod in passing, while Irena even extracted a smile from her.<br><br>She caught up with Kamilsa, who apparently, and most conveniently so, had just opened the door to the magistrate's office, through which Ciara now stepped, taking precedence as if it were her right, which, at least to some degree, it certainly ought to be, as it was not at all likely that without her assistance, any of the others would ever have found this place. But she had no intention to make herself prominent or a spokeswoman of the group, since all that bound the selfish lot together was a common interest, as soon as parting with the others seemed the better alternative, they would scatter like leaves in the storm. Perfectly comfortable with remaining in the background as long as it meant she also remained in control, she moved aside, curious to see who would want to appear to be in charge of matters. Irena, perhaps, in her habitual though often hidden arrogance that must have sprung from an upbringing that once, long before her fall, must have given her a high standing?
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				Title: <strong>Re: An Ebony Stone in the Rough</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Aether</strong> on <strong>01-05-2010, 19:44:22</strong>
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				This was not his first trip into the underdark, but it finally felt like he was welcoming it as the new home it was going to be.&nbsp; Here there was a purity in the life he could view with his eyes.&nbsp; The earth had its own decay process, but it was only on the trail of which they walked where he could feel the negative energy rise.&nbsp; It seemed that their own feet scuffing across the rock caused the only death that he could really perceive.&nbsp; Black waves shimmered up from the feet that plodded in front of him marring the beautiful deep blue hues of the living stone.&nbsp; He could almost feel the earth groan in protest at their intrusion, every footfall a pain that would be remembered far beyond their puny existences. <br><br>Though the earth slept, it never forgot.&nbsp; There was a sense of a balance that was growing ever more top heavy in favor of the negative energies that the earth had succumbed to.&nbsp; A point would be reached when the earth would awake and retaliate in the form of an earth quake or an eruption from its core, Lowan knew this.&nbsp; He also knew it was why he was so drawn to this place.&nbsp; The prospect of a vast and untapped store of power made him weak in the knees for the want of its mysteries and secrets.&nbsp; The trail represented a key generation point with all the travelers that used it.&nbsp; He had been careful to maintain his wards when he entered the caverns, minimizing as much as he could his own contribution to the earth's pain.<br><br>With practiced meditative ease, he focused past the red to white blooms within his sight that represented the living members of his party and lost himself in the cool and tranquil shades that surrounded him.&nbsp; Fungus was a fascinating life form that grew primarily off of negative energy.&nbsp; It decomposed things and helped keep the world in an appropriate balance.&nbsp; Down here without the light of the day star, the fungus and molds grew unchecked, maintaining a perfect balance.&nbsp; They showed up even darker into the jewel tones of the bluest sapphires, some emerald greens, some amethyst lavenders.&nbsp; The hues were glossed over a deeper and darker blackness that represented the food source of the plant life.&nbsp; He felt a shiver travel up his spine not for the first time, and he knew it would not be the last.&nbsp; This is where he belonged.<br><br>The Drow were just like they always were to them.&nbsp; They were after all just lowly humans.&nbsp; It would not be this way for ever though, soon, the positions would be reversed and it would the ones at this outpost that would be saluting them.&nbsp; Each one of his party members represented a powerful force of skill and prowess that would only further aid Drow society as a whole.&nbsp; Some of these greater than the others.&nbsp; Lowan had not worked as closely as he would have liked with his companions though he attempted to make up for that on the days that it took to reach Archrand.&nbsp; He was mostly interested in the others approach to "magic" and the wielding of immense potential that lie about them mostly untapped: Kamilsa and her blood magic, Kaelia and her shadow magic, Ciara and her arcane disciplines and of course Irena and the near magical way she used her mind.&nbsp; He found all these ways that they reached for and attempted to do the same things fascinating beyond measure.&nbsp; Most of all, the idea that shadow was tappable.&nbsp; And then there was the physical might of the weapon wielders who dabbled in enough magic to aid their weapon play.&nbsp; They were a formidable group and they all wanted to be Drow.<br><br>Lowan shook his head wistfully from the back of the line as the myriad of thoughts washed through him.&nbsp; He plodded along with his bone stave aiding him cane like swing from his right hand to match his right step.&nbsp; He did not need the help, but it always comforted him to walk thus.&nbsp; Also, to the less mentally acute, it made him look weaker than he was.<br><br>The final approach to the city was a fascinating assault on Lowan's senses.&nbsp; Bright pin points of light moved all over the cavern, top to bottom, representing life forms of all kinds.&nbsp; The maw of the city that opened before him threatened to envelop him in darkness of the dead and hewn stone from which the city was primarily constructed.&nbsp; A few of the stalagmites were used as housing and glowed powerfully.&nbsp; It took practice and much patience to adjust to his sight as he slowly acclimated to the subtle variations of gray within the black, and slowly began to discern the reflection of living energy off of structures.&nbsp; The city walls were black as night to his sight from outside the walls.&nbsp; That meant that they were some kind of metal, as far removed from the once originally living material from which they were drawn from.<br><br>Walking within the gates with the group, Lowan heard talk about a magistrate and followed, still taking in the city and its varied shades darkness amongst the living bowels of the earth.&nbsp; He entered the open door after all else had entered and found a corner along the front wall and leaned in.&nbsp; He wondered who would feel it the most important to talk first.&nbsp; He also wondered laughingly whether or not anyone would speak at all in deference to not being perceived as weak.&nbsp; There was not a leader amongst them per say, the trip had needed little organization.&nbsp; They were all quite head strong and after but one common prize.&nbsp; Their similarities ended there.<br><br>Lowan smiled slightly and waited patiently.
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				Title: <strong>Re: An Ebony Stone in the Rough</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Aether</strong> on <strong>01-05-2010, 20:35:52</strong>
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				Please disregard my post, I am withdrawing, sorry for for the inconvenience. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: An Ebony Stone in the Rough</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xanatos</strong> on <strong>02-05-2010, 09:03:50</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-size: 12pt;" class="bbc_size">~Detail~</span><br><br>(http://i651.photobucket.com/albums/uu234/darkxanatos/koboldsmal.jpg)<br><br>Several Kobolds skittered away from the group as they approached the magistrates office, soft chirps which sounded almost like whimpering, emanating from their narrow muzzles. No one could remember having seen so many of the tiny creatures at one time up on the surface; here in the city they saw dozens, all running to and fro cleaning messes, straightening things, being beaten, all in a general jittery and terrified mood. It in of itself was a sight to behold; nothing of this sort existed in the surface world, as far as they knew anyways. <br><br>The building they moved towards was a bit more elaborate than the others which stood around it. Its exterior boasted steps which led up to the raised door, each step quite smooth and expertly shaped with no apparent cracks or flaws in them, a simple testament to the Drow's ability to work and seek perfection in even seemingly minor aspects of a structure. Even the sign which held the Ilythiiri script was elaborate, a flowing, yet simple, wave like design which kept to a roughly rectangular shape or more accurately could fit into a rectangular frame if put in one. The door held many designs which had no significance to the group of aspirants but looked pleasing to the eye never the less. <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: An Ebony Stone in the Rough</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Mr Self Destruct</strong> on <strong>05-05-2010, 01:29:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Hannibal fixed a glare so cold on Ciara that were she made of heat she would surely dissipate into nothing.&nbsp; Her shoving past him had not only showed how little she cared for her companions, but also her own haughty nature.&nbsp; Granted, she wanted to appear as much a drow as any female of the species, but to slight him so wasn't sitting well with the assassin.&nbsp; He made a mental note to have words with her later...in private.<br><br>For now, he swallowed his pride and entered the Magistrate's office.&nbsp; He moved off to the side, his back to the wall, protecting his rear from any chance of attack.&nbsp; He had made a habit out of not trusting anyone, and now that they were in a drow city, even moreso.&nbsp; His eyes narrowed, studying the office and its occupants warily.&nbsp; If the need arose, he would put his weapons to good use in such tight quarters, but for now, he kept silent, letting the 'superior' females do the talking.<br><br>He did smirk however as he looked at Ciara.&nbsp; On the surface, she was nothing more than meat.<br><br>If anything, the other two women, Yuri and Kamilsa, knew their place.&nbsp; They were powerful, the fellow warrior that dabbled in Shadow Magic and the Blood Mage, but their focus was on the task at hand...not at making a good first impression.&nbsp; He knew they should all be worried about that in particular, but to him, it mattered little.&nbsp; When the time came, his blades would speak for him, not like Ciara was doing now.<br><br>He folded his arms over his chest and stood quietly, however, content to let her speak for now.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: An Ebony Stone in the Rough</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xanatos</strong> on <strong>05-05-2010, 02:27:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				As the group "jockeyed" into position, entering the building, the first thing to see where several guards, six in all, standing opposite each other in the large open hall. Each guard was a Hobgoblin, well dressed and wearing shiny black armor with long swords sheathed in their scabbards. None of the guards seemed to pay them any heed but it was obvious enough the trained guards were ever watchful. No noise could be heard in the hall save for the travelers foots as they pressed down upon the smooth hard stone floor, a white stone, the only white stone they had seen during their short time in the Underdark. <div class="floatright">(http://i651.photobucket.com/albums/uu234/darkxanatos/Hobgoblin.jpg)</div><br><br>Lighting inside was dim but enough for the party to see, though it gave the building a slightly eerie quality as the guards and room seemed to slightly melt into the shadows. For those used to the shadows, it felt almost like home. Nothing seemed to stick out other than the lighting and the guards, no one noticed any paintings, no vases, no sculptures, nothing which would have been displayed in style in a building such as this on the surface. Either the Magistrate had no style, leanings towards this kind of style, or the Drow saw no need for that kind of decoration. No one could speculate as they had not been here even an hour yet and had seen so little, they still knew so little about the Drow; the rumors and lore they had read only told them vague things or gave them embellished rumors of monstrous beings of black and white, or fairy devils that danced under the moon, or beings so evil they could not be seen until they dealt death upon their observer. Only when the group had come into contact with Ciara had they gained some concrete yet still shallow information. Enough to know a general idea of how to behave and not be killed before they even began. <br><br>Their journey was far from hopeless but it would take every wit they possessed to compete and survive in the society which held no regard for even one of its own. It was boggling how a society could survive, let alone thrive, when one was not even safe from one's own neighbor. Everyone was prey and predator, save except the slaves whom simply were fodder never knowing when their usefulness would end and then find themselves disposed of or sacrificed. <br><br>As they continued, slowly, through the room they saw no other doors except one dead ahead many feet down the long hall. Making their way to this door, which was painted red with intricate markings upon it, the door soundlessly opened before the first person could reach out to open it. Inside was an opulent room full of books, several lavishly decorated chairs, a human female barely clothed, and a male Drow whom sat behind a large oval shaped desk, reading a book. He ignored anyone who entered, and continued his reading. The woman, a brunette and amply endowed, gave each member a once over then returned her gaze to the male Drow. Upon her neck was an ornate collar and other than its design nothing really stood out about it, it could easily have been jewelry but its purpose seemed to have more to it than just jewelry. <br>______________________________________________________________________________________________________________<br><br>Venturing forth into the dark unknown was nothing short of a warming invite for the reclusive and disturbing Kaelia, finding the constant covering of the caressing Shadow to be a welcome embrace, letting it hold her in its cold caring arms, as she followed along with the other would be travelers. It often caused her to wonder why they chose to come along; sure they all wanted to become Drow but few of them knew the Shadow as she did, few welcomed its embrace with an open mind and heart. Did they ignore the Shadow? Was it just some substance to them? To Kaelia it was so much more, what exactly she couldn't decide; few Shadow Mages could. The Shadow if it was alive did not reveal this fact, keeping any truth on the matter a secret even from those that respected it. Perhaps any who believed it was sentient was simply insane, that was a possibility, one even the most insane Shadow Mage still held at the back of their mind even though they spent their life trying to prove it was sentient. <br><br>For most of the journey Kaelia was silent, never uttering a sound. She stuck close to the party, no one really knew why but she was not a bother either. Unlike the rumors of her crying or acting like a ghost, she did no such thing among them. Perhaps she found comfort among others who were at least a little like her and that alone caused her to behave a little more normal than she otherwise would have. Then again, perhaps the rumors were wrong or she went through periods of sanity then periods of insanity. Who really knew?<br><br>On one occasion a strange arachnid like creature had been spotted tailing her, which she promptly turned to and began petting. The thing, whatever it was, seemed only to care to give her any attention, utterly ignoring the rest of the party. For several days it simply followed behind her, only occasionally making some clicking sounds, otherwise it was as silent as she was. After those few days it was gone. <br><br>As they neared the city of Archrand, Kaelia began taking a more active interest than she had the entire journey. The giant spider motiff had held her gaze the entire walk to the gate and during the wait at the gate. If she had noticed the male Drow's leering, she paid them no attention. Men nor women, seemed to catch her attention. It was not clear to anyone what her leaning was either way, as she simply showed no interest whatsoever in anyone, unless to hold a normal conversation which didn't happen often. For those whom she did talk to, she was not rude but not polite, simply a cold neutral. <br><br>With everyone deciding upon talking to the Magistrate, Kaelia simply followed behind, the last in the group, uncaring about being "exposed" in the rear. She had never shown fear, but unless she was inhuman she had to have some but perhaps her mind was warped enough to have cleansed her of it, giving her the ability to behave in manners few Human's could achieve. All was speculation, mere theory since she never talked about herself nor her past. The most she seemed interested in talking about was the Shadow. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: An Ebony Stone in the Rough</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Demik</strong> on <strong>07-05-2010, 06:10:20</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Kamilsa saw that glare Hannibal gave Ciara. She couldn't blame him in the least. She almost felt sorry for the man. He was seeking to become a member of a society run by women where he would be seen as inferior. Of course she was sure he was fully aware of this fact and he would have to get used to such things. That he would willingly put himself through that to get what he desired had always made her respect him. This meant she wouldn't treat him like that, especially not to impress the Drow or fit in. She doubted that would help anyway. She was sure there were many other, better ways to catch their eye.<br><br>She looked over the hobgoblin guards as they entered the building. Ugly creatures they were. She ran over in her mind the properties of their blood. Kamilsa ran her fingers through her hair as they walked down the hall to the office, looking over the barrenness of the office so far. Her shoes made little sound on the white stone floor. They were made of soft leather with a coating which helped to muffle the sound while protecting the soles from wear. She liked being able to sneak up on an enemy if at all possible.<br><br>Once finally in the office of who she presumed was the Magistrate, seemingly much too important to take any notice of them. She saw that his eyes didn't even flicker from his reading. Of course she was sure using his peripheral vision he had already taken stock of each of them as they walked in. She could be wrong though and he really just didn't care at all. She examined the woman and the lovely jeweled collar she wore. Obviously a slave. Kamilsa stood behind the others beside Kaelia and Hannibal. She certainly didn't want to be the one to speak for the group. Speaking was not one of her strong points and she definitely didn't want to say the wrong thing here. Leave that for Ciara or even Irena if she wanted. One or the other of them would know better what to say.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: An Ebony Stone in the Rough</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nim</strong> on <strong>10-05-2010, 08:39:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				As the group traveled down the center of this hall they had found themselves Yuri was more concerned with her companions than she was about the hobgoblins who failed to impress her at least in the small numbers that were presented here.&nbsp; Both she and Hannibal had the skill to&nbsp; take out these hobgoblins alone but working together they would have been dealt with in very short order.&nbsp; This was not conceit on her part as some might mistakenly believe.&nbsp; It was simply a pure fact.&nbsp; Yuri would have been more impressed if the hall had been lined with Drow Warriors instead of these smelly slower moving beasts. <br><br>The human slave sex toy or whatever she was supposed to be did very little to impress the Warrior.&nbsp; Ciara's workers who washed the cum stained blankets and carpeted floors all had better figures than this one did.&nbsp; Not even the single Drow who sat reading a book succeeded in raising any sense of fear within the Warriors heart.&nbsp; But then again why should he strike fear into her heart when she wanted to be Drow herself.&nbsp; <br><br>It was becoming more and more evident that none of her companions were going to brooch the subject of what they wanted of the one and only reason for them being there at all.&nbsp; Well so be it then if they were all going to leave it for the the cold hearted blunt warrior to speak her mind she would surely do so without a single thought of regret.&nbsp; <br><br>The words flowing out of her mouth as if she had used them all of her life Yuri says, <em>"Udos inbal doer wund dos whol uss purpose lu' uss purpose er'griff, udos inbal doer ghil ulu doera Ilythiiri."</em>&nbsp; Translated to their own language, We have come among you for one purpose and one purpose only, we have come here to become Drow.<br><br>&nbsp;<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: An Ebony Stone in the Rough</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>10-05-2010, 16:49:57</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Hannibal's gaze she met evenly, without fear, apology or insult. She wondered briefly how his pride would affect him in future, if so small a matter as ignoring his comment let his temper flare up like this. How would he adjust, blend in, here, were males were considered inferior? Did he think he could afford and defend such pride? How different they were, her travelling companions, bound by nothing than the overpowering desire to become Drow, how little she knew of most of them. Would they seek to stay together, or prefer to each go their own way, now their destination was reached?<br><br>Thus were her thoughts before she descended towards the magistrate's office, not failing to take in every detail, and, after an initial evaluation, store it in her memory. As she meant to trade with the Drow, open a brothel or business in the part of Archrand were other races resided, and meant to learn as much as possible about the Drow before she even mentioned the outrageous desire that had brought her here, to make a favourable impression as a trader, and adjust as perfectly as possible as fast as she could, were her priorities. In a society as ruthless as this, as ready to destroy even their own kind, she must prove useful and know its workings - or perish. <br><br>She had not the least claim on any but one of her companion's loyalty, and doubted not that this one, too, would quit her company and service in the blink of an eye once a more promising opportunity offered. Not knowing their wishes, whether they would address their truest desire immediately, had services to offer or meant to work with and through her, as before, she could not speak for them. It had at first seemed none was willing to address the magistrate, but then, just as Ciara made up her mind that she would do it, then, Yuri spoke up, fearless, boldly, and directly to the point - the very point Ciara, always in favour of the indirect, subtle approach, would rather have reserved for a later time. <br><br>In secret, how Yuri took this situation on the very way she would an enemy, made her smile, but her face showed nothing but calm composure. Should she let matters rest in the warriors hands for now, see what would happen, let speak for all of them? Perhaps it was wise to mention the business Ciara was interested in, a far less outrageous request that contained an offer, too, from which the magistrate might profit directly - if he was no different from other magistrates, he would certainly claim a 'fee' for the trade he arranged, the business or brothel he allowed to be established... She recalled all she knew of the Drow, their language, customs, manners, and, when Yuri had finished, also approached the desk behind which the magistrate was reading. <br><br>That strange gift she had, to present herself in exactly the manner someone favoured, and to appear as the one who could find, provide, the very thing someone wanted most, would it work, with a Drow, or fail her for the first time in her life? Would her luck abandon her, this close to the only dream she had ever reached for, and what terrible price would she pay, then? She reached deep into herself, let her unique instinct take over, guide her every move, her facial expression, her tone of voice, hoping for it to do its magic as she greeted the Drow, using the words and gestures she so painstakingly had found out about and learned to use. She spoke of her intention to trade goods, adding she would welcome permission to establish a permanent business, if possible, a brothel, in town, as living in Archrand would allow her to provide products that far better served to satisfy the specific tastes and demands of this city than occasional visits with trading caravans could.<br><br>If her clothes and jewellery told she had access to materials highly valued and hard to find for those living in the Underdark, that she understood their tastes and cravings even now, this was nothing in comparison to the items she presented the magistrate as examples of what she traded with. One was a box containing three grains of a snowy white crystalline structure, almost priceless for those using Arcane Magic, the second a vial of the <em>huile absolue</em> of a nearly extinct flower which blossomed once, only, in centuries. Its petals must be collected at precisely the right moment, in a highly complex procedure its oil was won, the essence of its scent preserved. It had considerable use in magic, but was craved and loved, by Drow, for its scent alone, as for them, it was an aphrodisiac.<br><br>If she had played her cards well, this should convince him that letting her live and allowing her to settle in this city, would be useful. She had carefully calculated and prepared for this day over years, now it would show whether she had done well. She had tried to ensure she would not offer too little nor overreach herself, the objects and hitherto unmentioned information she had brought were of the kind and quality she could provide upon demand, yes, she would have more, and better, to sell. The full extent of her wealth, just how far her connections reached, what she knew or could lay hands on, would have surprised people much closer to her than any of her travel companions had ever been. Would her proposition to set up business in Archrand be accepted? If so, would it mean the others, or some of them, would want to work with her, and together, maybe closer even than before?
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: An Ebony Stone in the Rough</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xanatos</strong> on <strong>12-05-2010, 03:50:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				As Yuri spoke the Magistrate slowly raised his head to look upon the muscular Human female, finding himself entirely unimpressed with her. Though, for a Human female she was quite large and impressively built, she looked to entirely bulky with a lack of grace that any Drow naturally had. It was a wonder the Human's could be a dominant race on the surface world; a true testament to how inferior other races were that such a race as the Human's could dominate them. He let her finish speaking then craned his head slightly to look past her at the rest of the assembled party, finding himself curious why so many Humans, who didn't appear to be merchants, wanted to see him. His curiosity did not show one bit as he kept his face composed and impassive. <br><br>When Yuri had finished, his dark lips wore an ever so slightly amused expression. Despite the amusement he was rather surprised by the bold statement he had just heard; they wanted to be Drow. Clearly they were pathetic dreamers, showing their weakness for all to see and thus would not last long here in Archrand or they were more than met the eye and had much to offer in return for their desire to be fulfilled. His mind began whirling at the possibilities of how he could possibly manipulate them but first he needed to gauge their level of competence before he would waste any time on them. <br><br>Before he could say anything, however, a beautiful woman approached, slender and quite attractive. She laid out some plans and ideas as well as made some offers which seemed enticing. If she was any indication of her associates, they might not be so pathetic as he initially thought; for Human's, inferior as they were, perhaps these might bring him some profit. <br><br>The Magistrate took one of the flowers, gingerly examining it. To the best of his knowledge it looked real and not some cheap fake. He had seen many merchants who thought themselves cunning, try and cheat him. All of them had ended up dead or enslaved. Leaning back slowly in his chair, having deposited the flower back in its container, he stayed silent for many moments as he stared at Ciara. She was intriguing and seemed to be quite cunning, but did she had the intellect to match that of a Drow? <br><br>A risk would not be deadly, at least not very likely in this case. More than once had someone of her ilk come to him with business offers. Perhaps her idea might pay off. If not, he could sever ties easily enough and kill each of them with ease thus eliminating any evidence he was involved should any of his enemies attempt to use the situation to their advantage somehow. For a Drow, risk taking was as normal as breathing. Everything was a calculated and heavily planned affair, but sometimes a Drow had to run on a little faith, a lack of knowledge, and many times it was these Drow who succeeded because they could survive during times when planning was impossible and only anarchy could be followed. <br><br>Speaking in Common, the Magistrate brought his hands to rest under his chin, his elbows holding them aloft. <strong>Intriguing. Now, tell me what can you others do? Are you bodyguards for your mistress...</strong> He asked motioning towards Ciara. <strong>or are you simply travelers along for the ride?</strong> His tone was quite flowing and smooth but it held a hint of his typical condescending Drow nature. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: An Ebony Stone in the Rough</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nim</strong> on <strong>16-05-2010, 19:34:14</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Yuri had known of Ciara's desires to open up the same kind of business among the Drow as she had set up in their old world up on the surface.&nbsp; With her old connections above and any new ones she would be able to build below the surface could make Ciara a powerful player in both worlds.&nbsp; What surprised Yuri was Ciara's show of wealth at nearly the start of their adventure.&nbsp; And though she herself had no real use for the two vials that had been shown to the magistrate Yuri was well aware of what they were and what some of their uses were.&nbsp; <br><br>If it was not for her well disciplined mind from years of physical training and the years of study in the use of Shadow magic she might have laughed out loud at the magistrates suggestion that all of them were Ciara's bodyguards.&nbsp; Out of all the companions only 3 of them might have the inclination or have been approached by Ciara herself with such an idea.&nbsp; Those three being Hannibal, Kamilsa and herself.&nbsp; Of all the companions Hannibal and Yuri shared somewhat of the same mind set in that the were both of a warrior class.&nbsp; His path taking him more towards the highly trained assassin.&nbsp; Her training to becoming a great sword maiden.&nbsp; If any of them were one of Ciara's guardians Hannibal was a very likely candidate. <br><br>The blood mage Kamilsa was also a good candidate for the simple fact that she had been known at least among certain people to have worked with and for Ciara in the past.&nbsp; Yuri was aware of this fact because she had worked with the Blood Mage on several occations taking care of some highly sensitive business for Ciara.&nbsp; Kamilsa along with Hannibal and Ciara herself were the only ones of the group Yuri truly trusted and felt the most comfortable with.&nbsp; Not that there was anything particularly wrong with their other two companions Irena or Kaelia it was just a matter of the fact that so very little was known of either of them.&nbsp; Kaelia a Shadow Mage of such a high degree that the woman seemed to be more of Shadow than a living being herself was also very quiet and introverted fully focused on her craft and perhaps herself tho that could not be proven either way only speculated.&nbsp; Other than the fact that Irena was a Psion Mage with as much talent as the other two mages in the group Yuri knew very little else of her.<br><br>Of all of the group as far as she knew Yuri was the only hired personal body guard for Ciara.&nbsp; Yuri had worked long and hard to earn Ciara trust performing more and more critical missions until she had won her current position.&nbsp; In a sense Yuri's fate was tied to Ciara's in that where her employer and friend went so would Yuri.&nbsp; Of course their paths to becoming Drow were likely to be different but for as long as it was possible and if they were not separated by fate then Yuri would stand by and with Ciara. <br><br>As far as the magistrates question Yuri held her peace.&nbsp; She had said what needed to be said and felt no need to speak to this man more than was absolutely necessary.&nbsp; He was acting his part of an arrogant condescending Drow but one day she would be Drow as well and by the very fact of her being a woman she would be his superior in all ways.&nbsp; Being arrogant and condescending could be a double edged sword for both traits could easily lead to complacency which was a deadly weakness.&nbsp; In her still human mind set there was a distinct possibility that once she was Drow she would show him where he could stick his condescending nature.&nbsp; &nbsp;
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: An Ebony Stone in the Rough</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Mr Self Destruct</strong> on <strong>17-05-2010, 18:00:30</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Hannibal regarded the Magistrate as coldly as he had Ciara, but if the dark elf noticed it, he didn't show any response other than cold indifference.&nbsp; The bastard was a haughty weakling, the assassin thought, someone accustomed to the meager power afforded one with ready access to coin and secrets.&nbsp; Secrets were an assassin's stock and trade, a useful tool in executing a target and collecting the profit and esteem that accompanied the task set forth.&nbsp; Perhaps he should show the diminutive little merchant where his true skills lied?<br><br>Just as he thought on that particularly rash course of action, Yuri spoke, using the drow tongue.&nbsp; Hannibal turned, his eyes studying her own.&nbsp; She was blunt and to the point, as subtle as the sword strapped to her thigh.&nbsp; Ciara made a quick recovery, however, drawing the Magistrate's bemused stare in her direction.&nbsp; Hannibal let his gaze linger on the muscular woman next to him for a moment longer, a slight smirk forming on his face, before turning his attention back to the mage and the dark elf that seemed so enthralled with her offer.<br><br>It was with some hardship that the assassin was able to swallow his pride and nod to the Magistrate's question.&nbsp; He spoke, his gaze rising to meet Ciara's own, and as he spoke, it was with difficulty that he admitted he was merely a bodyguard for the young, would-be merchant.&nbsp; The words were like bile spilling from his throat, and they tasted the same, bitter and foul, as they spilled from his lips.&nbsp; He had to remind himself that their mission depended on team work, and though he was more of a lone wolf, his talents alone would not ensure his survival in a place such as this.&nbsp; No, it was best, at least for the moment, to do what was needed, not only to survive, but to achieve their shared goal.<br><br>He fell silent once more, hands falling to rest on his sword belt, his eyes turning back to the Magistrate.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: An Ebony Stone in the Rough</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Demik</strong> on <strong>18-05-2010, 05:18:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Kamilsa wasn't able to keep from smiling slightly at Yuri coming right out and saying what they wanted. That was perfect actually. Why hide what they were really after? She crossed her arms across her chest and lightly tapped her nails on her arms as she listened to what Ciara had to say. Ever the business woman. Well it would be nice if Ciara did begin a business here. She was a useful woman to know. Her pale green eyes narrowed slightly at the Magistrate's question though. They widened again at Hannibal's begrudging admission that he was Ciara's bodyguard. Now why would he say such a thing? <br><br>Well she certainly wasn't going to tell the Magistrate that. Now she was speaking for herself, not the group. That she had no problems with. Taking three graceful steps forward, her hips naturally swaying in their seductive fashion, she said in her cool, pleasant voice, "I am Kamilsa D'rille the Blood Mage. While I have worked for and with her she is by no means my mistress. I am also not 'along for the ride'. It is as she says," she indicated Yuri, "I am here with the sole purpose of becoming Drow and joining your society. If that means I continue working with this group then I have no problem with that. I only wish to prove myself worthy of being considered Drow."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: An Ebony Stone in the Rough</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>19-05-2010, 19:32:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				When the magistrate leaned back in his chair and scrutinise her, Ciara looked back at him. Her dark eyes seemed warm, calm, full of promise. They gave away the true source of her allure, which was not her beauty or that splendid body, but whatever lived behind that open but unfathomable gaze. Impossible to tell what she might be like or thinking about, her gaze held no judgement, opened every possibility, seemed to say 'I might just have exactly what you want. And I might give it to you.' In her eyes others would see what they truly wanted, their heart's desire. With half a smile, she studied the contrast the magistrate's lashes and eyebrows made against his skin, the glowing eyes, the delicate built that held more strength than any human's. While he calculated, so did she.<br><br>The light fabric that covered her breasts where her gown no longer hugged them, moved with her quiet breathing. The close fitting dress barely concealed them, a deep breath or sigh might lift them enough to reveal her areolae through the undergarment, so luxuriously fine it belied the purpose it had served, to add modesty to so seductive a dress that, in their city, the law had demanded wearing a long-sleeved shift underneath. Ciara had followed the regulations to the letter, using them to serve her ends. Bare skin might have been less enticing than skin veiled by the fabric's intricate pattern of spiderwebs that swayed and swelled just like their natural paradigms would whenever Ciara took a breath or moved, or a breeze stirred them. <br><br>The cut of the dress, the glacé of deep red and gold seemed to suggest there ought to be a pair of hands to hold and caress her breasts just as the gown did. Her waist , too, surely must hunger to be encircled, every curve of her body was invitingly hidden and revealed. Like Ciara and her gaze, her attire seduced by promise, hinted at everything, lured, suggested, yet withheld even more. But what hunger she awoke, others would satiate, who would be so exactly after her customers' tastes they quite forgot it had been Ciara herself whom they had wanted throughout their negotiations. As the magistrate spoke, she turned to allow him to watch her companions as they answered, and to do the same. <br><br>Yuri could be as silent as a frozen well if she so wanted. Ciara new the use one put traits or habits to made them weaknesses or strengths, no matter what they might seem on the outside. Of such nature was loyalty. Some said it was for fools, yet it gave Yuri unwavering determination. Not for fear nor personal gain, the warrior had freely given Ciara this loyalty. It deserved respect, was rare, precious. She would not cheat Yuri out of her prize, which was not the considerable sum that regularly passed into her hands, but something resembling friendship enough to be mistaken for it. Mistaken it must be, as Ciara, surely, too completely lacked the ability to love. <br><br>Better than such feelings, she understood the bile that tainted Hannibal's words, secretly dripping resentment as his eyes held hers. A hardship, for him, to hide the true extent of his skill, his fame, the respect it might earn him, as much as being forced to work with others or being treated after the customs of the Drow, as an inferior human male. He was handsome on the outside, she mused, and made no attempt to evade or appease his gaze. She knew his dangerous pride, what it cost him to swallow it. Nor fear nor compassion, nor any hint of triumph or cruelty was in her eyes as he did what must feel to him like humbling himself before her. <br><br>What would he look like as a Drow? She felt a faint pang of regret, the looks she appreciated now would disappear, become too perfectly beautiful to appeal in quite the same way. Not that she had ever wanted to taste of his attractions. He was as dangerous an ally as he was an enemy, might well enjoy killing her much more than doing anything else with her body. And why not, why should he use his prick on her, however cruelly, which she might even like for all he knew, when stabbing her promised much more satisfaction, for, was there any true desire in him besides pride and blood-lust, his obsession to become the very best of assassins?<br><br>Even without knowing her Ciara could have told what went on in Kamilsa's head. Her words rang true, she was as reliable a factor in Ciara's calculations as Yuri, though in a different way. As long as her best advantage lay in working for Ciara, she would not be overly tempted to double-cross her or bite the hand that fed her. While they all were inspected in the Drow's condescending manner, some speaking up, others silent, Ciara watched and listened, comparing, deciphering the unspoken, and musing about her companions, all seemingly willing to uphold their alliance. Things appeared to go well, but who could tell... She returned her gaze to the magistrate, awaiting his response. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: An Ebony Stone in the Rough</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xanatos</strong> on <strong>23-05-2010, 19:09:49</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Keen elven eyes studied each group member in turn as they spoke or did not speak. The only male in the group, a most unfortunate fellow, seemed quite sullen and furious for his predicament. Did he too wish to subject himself to his female partners mercy? Perhaps his desire to become one of the Ilythiiri was enough, the Magistrate could understand that; Many sought to become more than they were, even if such a desire was unrealistic and quite pathetic. The two which caught the Magistrates eyes, for no more reason other than their total silence, were the two in the farthest reaches of the group. One with her exotic red hair and another with pure black hair, black clothing, and white skin. A Shadow mage, he surmised, as he examined what little their was to examine. Here in the Underdark, there was a strong following of the Shadow arts, but still not as many compared to Clerics and the Arcane Wizards. The red haired one did not stand out, besides her hair, anymore than the other females. He wondered if there was more to that one. <br><br>Returning his gaze back to the lovely Ciara, his eyes stealing a glance at her ample cleavage, he stared into her eyes for many moments studying her calculating, devious eyes. He knew she could potentially make a good Drow simply by virtue of her devious behavior, however, that simply was not enough. Her companions he was less sure of, although the male had potential as long as he was not cowed for fear of retribution from his female pack leaders. For now he had to think. <strong>Rest, go stay at the Drathmir inn, you will be safe there as I own it. It is but a few streets down, stay on the main road. In the morning, come see me and I will have a decision for you. There is much to think on.</strong> With that he waved them out and went back to reading his book.<br><br><br>They left the building and reentered the main road to see a patrol of Drow mounted on giant lizards walking by. The Drow paid them no attention as they made for the gate. They could feel the mild pangs of fatigue beginning to strike home but the excitement of having arrived was still strong as well, perhaps they would get no sleep or instead fall into blissful slumber. Proceeding further into the city they saw several Inn's, Dancing Maiden, Rain's End, Wyrstern, and others, none of which were the Drathmir; perhaps they had not gone far enough? The number of hawkers increased the further they went in, all trying to sell exotic Drow goods, some surface food. The area seemed pock marked with sellers, while other areas was mostly Inn's or various other establishments or homes. <br><br><br>Their conversation with the Magistrate still fresh in their minds, everyone had to wonder, did it go well? Truly they had no clue, for no one had ever dealt directly with a Drow before. Was it good they had dealt with a male? The rumors abounded that Females were ruthless, cruel, uncaring bitches, while the rumors of males spoke of little better but that males could make slightly safer partners as they had to work together more often to achieve status in a female dominated society. Lack of experience felt like a brutal weight put upon their shoulders; before they had come, each and every one of them had a purpose a desire, a skill and a place in society which gave them confidence and the knowledge they were good and perhaps on the top of the food chain. This no longer applied. Here among the Drow, each and everyone of them were once more at the bottom of the food chain; and they all knew it, could see it, feel it. Were they no better than slaves? The obvious answer was yes they were better, but rumors had told them that even a free person who had no worth, was no better than a slave who at least had the worth of shoveling the filth from the streets. <br><br>Only their strength and determination would bring them through this or they all would end up dead or enslaved by some Drow who found them amusing. Their only other option, was to leave now while they had yet to make a slash, a name for themselves in a society where a name could mean the difference between death and life, and at an even greater effect than on the surface world.&nbsp; &nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: An Ebony Stone in the Rough</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Mr Self Destruct</strong> on <strong>24-05-2010, 06:18:49</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Hannibal said nothing as the Magistrate eyed them all, though he met the male's gaze with one of his own.&nbsp; He was a man not used to backing down from anyone, and that surely wasn't going to start now.&nbsp; His demeanor when he accepted his 'place' as Ciara's bodyguard was something that still bristled within him, but any defiance would have been troublesome, and possibly a stone to block any further travel along their intended course.&nbsp; He wasn't going to let anything, or anyone, keep him from his goal.&nbsp; Besides, if necessary, any obstacles could be dealt with later.&nbsp; He smirked, and glanced to Ciara as the thought crossed his mind.<br><br>He only nodded in reply to the Magistrate, then turned, and exited the small office.&nbsp; The place was confining, though that offered some safety, the cramped quarters were beginning to wear on him.&nbsp; Back in the open, he was surprised to find that the feeling wasn't much different.&nbsp; It likely had more to do with the hundreds of tons of rock over his head, he mused.&nbsp; He breathed deeply, however, and calmed himself.&nbsp; No sense in worrying about what could happen, he thought.&nbsp; Only of what will happen.<br><br>He began walking in the direction of the inn that the Magistrate had guided them toward.&nbsp; As he walked, his eyes constantly shifted from one thing to the next, as if searching for any danger.&nbsp; He was a stranger in a strange land, and for all his skill, the feeling of being an inferior simply wouldn't leave him.&nbsp; It was disconcerting to the think that the one drow he had bested in combat had really been something of a lucky happenstance.&nbsp; How would he face in a real battle in their homeland?&nbsp; Outnumbered, surely out maneuvered, and with the superiority of their magical weapons and abilities, he was likewise outmatched when it came right down to it.<br><br>That wasn't something he liked thinking about.<br><br>"Where is the inn?" he asked finally, stopping to glance back at his companions.&nbsp; "I grow weary of the noise of this city."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: An Ebony Stone in the Rough</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>28-05-2010, 21:25:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The magistrate's stealing a glance at her décolleté amused Ciara, and a hint of this amusement mingled with the sensual allure with which her eyes were alive. She could, without embarrassment or challenge, hold any gaze for as long as it would last, did feel curious, not flustered, and never searched for something to say or an excuse to look away. The intimacy of a gaze appealed to her, she knew her secrets safe no matter how long or deep someone looked into her, while a glimpse into another's often offered useful insight - everybody wanted something, after all. The red glow of the magistrate's eyes quite intrigued her, never had she been this close to a Drow, his beauty in all its otherness was fascinating. <br><br>When he released her form his inspection and dismissed them all, she politely inclined her head&nbsp; before walking over to the door. He had already picked up his book again, but that was no reason to be rude towards a Drow, she was a mere human, nothing one ought to have airs about in this city, better to show some respect even if it would be ignored, than to fail to do so and be caught in the act. Back out in the streets, her senses embraced every sound, sight and scent they encountered, her mind reached out, her memory began storing information, collecting details like pebbles, each of which might turn out to be a gem at some point. <br><br>She must understand this city, how it worked, its peoples, casts, guests, merchants, soldiers, slaves, not a single creature, no matter how disregarded by others, was ever completely worthless when it came to information. She would know, she had often used the lowly to serve her means. The very fact they were hardly ever payed any attention made them formidable tools. They walked along the streets and she was quite content to absorb, for now. Being at the bottom of society once more, although no at all desirable, did not oppress her. She had been there, and then had risen high, why shouldn't she do the same again? <br><br>Of course, she might as well end up enslaved or dead, such was life, such were its risks, she had never felt safe, no matter in which position, with good reason, too, of this she was convinced, and this city made little difference when it came to how she felt. She quite liked the new challenge, and marvelled at all this beauty, ugliness, strangeness. At Hannibal's words, she slowed down and looked up at him. She had not forgotten the smirk and the glance he had cast her, not that she had needed such a reminder of how he felt about her. <br><br>"As one of my bodyguards, why don't you find out?" Her tone was even, almost playful, she had lingered on the word bodyguard, her eyes seeking his, what an irony, amusing, even, that what he professed to be was the very opposite of what he wanted to be, in her case - as in most others, probably. "Approach someone suitable and make inquiries, if you cannot find it yourself." She added dismissively, with a hint of impatience in her voice, her official role as his employer, his mistress, speaking now, not her self. Hopefully, he could tell the difference by now. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: An Ebony Stone in the Rough</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nim</strong> on <strong>30-05-2010, 07:08:44</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Yuri was not all that thrilled to be looking for one particular Inn either.&nbsp; In fact she was no convinced that the Magistrate was necessarily the only one who might be able to help them achieve their goal.&nbsp; Surely he was not the most powerful or most influential person in the city.&nbsp; He may be well respected among his peers and perhaps some of his enemies but that did not mean that he would have the kind of power or influence needed to get them what they wanted.&nbsp; <br><br>"No!&nbsp; Hannibal please wait."&nbsp; Yuri almost hissed as she stepped closer to Ciara dropping her voice so that only the gathered companions could hear her.&nbsp; "We are strangers here in this land and have no more reason to fully trust the magistrate any more than we have to fully trust any other Drow we might come across.&nbsp; He could be sending us on a wild goose chase for all we know.&nbsp; We would only be fooling ourselves if we truly believed that we could be safer in any one spot here in this city.&nbsp; I think our energy would be better spent considering other options."<br><br>Yuri took a moment to look at each of her companions.&nbsp; She trusted all of them enough to believe that there would be no betrayal among them.&nbsp; A parting of ways perhaps at a later point but until they actually became Drow and took on the characteristics of the race she felt safe and secure enough in their company.&nbsp; "I suggest we choose any one of these Inn's to set our selves up in for the evening and perhaps discuss other options we might consider.&nbsp; Our end goal is far to important to trust into the hands of just one man.&nbsp; No offense Hannibal but just by the very fact the Magistrate is a man he may not truly have the power to ultimately get us what we want.&nbsp; It's the women who hold the true power here it is a fact we are all aware of.&nbsp; And I really do not like the idea of leaving all of my eggs in one basket.&nbsp; None of us would do so on the surface world and I hardly believe that the Drow are any different.&nbsp; In that respect.&nbsp; A wise person always keeps their options open, we just need to find out what our real options are." 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: An Ebony Stone in the Rough</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Demik</strong> on <strong>01-06-2010, 22:53:28</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Kamilsa looked around once they were back outside and ran her fingers through her ebony hair. This wasn't sitting well with her. They were just going to trust one person they didn't even know anything about with their dream? It had taken her years to trust Ciara enough. She understood they didn't have that kind of time but it didn't mean they had to just trust the first person they spoke to. As they were searching for this inn he had directed them to she was wondering how to broach this subject with her companions. She was simply worried that the Magistrate had people following them.<br><br>When Ciara ordered Hannibal to go ask someone where the inn was Kamilsa rolled her eyes slightly. She didn't think it wise to push the assassin. He might have to get used to taking that from other women down here but when it came to the four of them she wondered how far he would be pushed. She was also sure he had a long memory. When Yuri stopped him and pulled them all together Kamilsa smiled as she listened to what she had to say.<br><br>Kamilsa chuckled lightly and put her hand on Yuri's shoulder, "For a warrior you certainly know how to use your brain Yuri. No offense of course but you must admit many warriors aren't the brightest creatures in the world. I was thinking those very same things. I honestly don't like the idea of staying in his inn at all. It's bad enough I have the feeling he has people watching us already. The way I see it better to stand somewhat on our own ground than completely on his. For all we know he's sending us there because it will be easier for him to capture us and sell us as slaves. I also don't like the idea of resting everything in his hands. We've come too far to hand our dream over to one man who we know nothing about. I'm fine with giving him a chance but I don't want him being our <em>only</em> chance. I say we find an inn and tavern, rest up, get something to eat and drink and listen around a bit then as Yuri suggests figure out our options." The mage looked around them then smiled as she nodded her head in the direction of an Inn and Tavern, "There we go, 'L' Buki Keeshe' - The Bloody Dagger. Sounds like a wonderful place to me."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: An Ebony Stone in the Rough</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Mr Self Destruct</strong> on <strong>01-06-2010, 23:08:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Hannibal met Ciara's gaze evenly, and though he could read that she was speaking 'for show', her words rankled him nonetheless.&nbsp; However, out on the streets, any manner of open warfare would result in simply too much attention being thrown their way, and with their journey only just having come to some sort of fruition, he wasn't about to let a simple grudge get in the way of their continued progress.&nbsp; He gave her a slow smile, and swallowed his pride...for the <em>second</em> time that day...and flared his cloak out in front of him in a wide, sweeping bow.<br><br>"As my...mistress...commands..." he said, and turned to go, only to halt at Yuri's words.&nbsp; He turned, his gaze falling on the warrioress, and he raised a brow.&nbsp; It was common enough for women to argue amongst their own gender in this city, but he couldn't help but feel that the muscled sword maiden was overstepping her bounds, even if she didn't know it.&nbsp; Ciara was clever, and cunning, excelling at trickery and subtlety where Yuri excelled at the strength of her arm and the solidity of her sword.&nbsp; Who would win in a contest, he wondered?<br><br>His thoughts were pulled from him yet again by the last member of their group, the mage Kamilsa.&nbsp; He said nothing as she spoke, though he did look to the inn behind them with some disdain.&nbsp; The name was fitting, however, even appropriate, given the current state of their 'camaraderie'.&nbsp; Perhaps there was a wisdom to her words, he mused.&nbsp; Perhaps she was giving him an outlet to clear the air with their would-be leader.<br><br>"A drink would be most pleasant..." he said, keeping his tone even.&nbsp; "What say you...Mistress?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: An Ebony Stone in the Rough</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Xanatos</strong> on <strong>03-06-2010, 05:04:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The reclusive Shadow mage had, as was to be expected, been silent the entire meeting with the Drow magistrate but had heard every word; she, after all, wanted to become a Drow as well. Her goals differed little from the parties, at least until becoming a Drow, then it was pretty obvious everyone's priorities would change. Until then she was content with following the more vocal group members whom her group consisted of. <br><br>Following at the rear of the group, ignoring the stares she got from some of the locals, she kept her gaze focused forward while allowing her senses to flow outwards. The dark and somber atmosphere which permeated this underground land was comforting and soothing, despite the ever present danger it presented. Kaelia was not unaware of the dangers but unlike others, she accepted the danger and let it slide to the back of her mind as she focused on the beauty of darkness. More existed, than any who did not hear the whispering, could imagine. The mind of those above were so focused on the sun and its light that they never gave time to imagine that darkness could even be beautiful let alone imagine what thrived in it. They feared, reviled, loathed the darkness; to them it was the essence of evil. <br><br>Kaelia smiled to herself, knowing how foolish and wrong those light blinded fools were; her eyes had been opened, her mind spread across the canvas that was the pitch black world of the reality she now lived in. How soothing it was, her mind so at ease, her eyes basking in the glory presented to her, saved for only those who had the gift of sight and understanding; granted to few. It was almost a shame more could not share in the marvelous wonder of the dark, but Kaelia liked having it to herself, rarely having to share with a fellow sighted. <br><br>Listening to the others speak on what they thought of their current situation, Kaelia spoke up, softly but loud enough to be heard. <strong>Yuri has wisdom. Do be not so quick to trust those t'would easily slit your throats for little more than pleasure.</strong> She paused and remained silent but not long enough for anyone to speak up before she continued. <strong>Another inn we stay, another day come we go. The Magistrate we see, his offer consider.</strong> The group had long gotten used to her odd way of speaking, though she did speak normally, at times. They never knew when she would speak normally or in her rather unique way of forming sentences. Her tone was absent of any emotion as was her face. <br><br><br>Nothing about the inn they saw, the Bloody Dagger, stood out as dangerous, then again if they really paid attention to their senses the entire city felt alive with tension and danger. It was the life they knew was coming, they had learned enough through rumors to know the life of a Drow was not safe; beyond that simple but valuable fact, they didn't have the full picture. They knew that Drow who were considered weak were quickly killed or enslaved, or used for other purposes; generally nasty in many ways. Drow who couldn't think in the short, medium, and long term didn't last long unless cunning enough and had the ability to think on the fly well enough to make up for their lack of planning skills and foresight. Life as a Drow was a never ending struggle, a contest, a deadly spider eat spider contest. They in a sense were cannibals, in a heavily yet believable metaphorical context; a Drow caught unaware was devoured by his or her peers and the remains thrown aside as useless chattel, given no burial or warm farewells to the afterlife. <br><br>There was more to know but unfortunately, as they realized, it was something they would have to find out for themselves; a trial by fire so to speak, a challenge unlike anything they ever had faced before. This would truly test them to their limits, because only if they passed the toughest the Drow had to throw at them, would they even be considered something other than inferior pieces of flesh and bone, barely good enough to draw precious breath. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: An Ebony Stone in the Rough</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malina</strong> on <strong>08-06-2010, 19:47:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She returned Hannibal's smile, pleased with the choice he made, his swallowing the pride that might yet cost him dearly in the life he wanted to lead. As he was about to turn and make inquiries, one after the other, the others protested they should not trust the magistrate, rather stay in another inn. Did they truly know her so little to assume she would have blindly sought that inn and gone to stay there, that she would not gather all available information and weigh all options first, once she had collected what she needed to know? She decided a break was overdue, and apparently, a discussion. As Hannibal was the one to direct the question at her, and in such an ostentatiously polite manner, too, she smiled at him. "Very well, let's have a drink in there, rest our feet, discuss this."<br><br>She took a step so that she could have them all in her view, and let her gaze pass over their faces as she spoke. "Nonetheless it would be advisable to find out whether, and where, the Drathmir Inn exists, where the magistrate would have us go, and why. Of course we cannot trust him, but don't assume we will easily find a better occasion, someone more trustworthy or useful. Through his position and experience, he at least knows it can be profitable to have dealings with outsiders, that helping us now can later work to his advantage. Of how many in this city can you expect the same?" <br><br>She made a small gesture to invite them to take a look around, at all the passersby who regarded, or rather, disregarded them as if they were vermin, less use than the lowliest slaves they held in their power. She gave them a moment to feel exactly how unimportant and uninteresting their group was for even the least important creatures scurrying by. "Usefulness - that is what counts here. To whom but the magistrate can we be of enough use for them to help us? You cannot trust anyone in this city, the danger you know often is the lesser, in a place like this. We mustn't trust a single being here, yet will need to rely on someone. We will be in someone's debt, pay a high price for what we crave. We all knew this when we set out."<br><br>She did not mind their doubt, was as factual in her words and as friendly in her address as they had always known her, just as willing to make use of what resources and contacts she had, of what perspectives she could take into consideration. The group being the only source of any of this she could rely upon, she would be interested, indeed, in each member's views. "Where would you rather begin our attempts to settle in? Are you sure picking another Inn at a whim to stay the night, and showing up whenever it pleases us to see the magistrate, or simply not returning to his office, and struggling on by ourselves, would be the better alternative?" She spread her hands, the pleasant smile some of them knew so well on her lips. "But for now - lets get inside, have a drink, rest our feet. Then we can busy our minds and tongues all the better."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: An Ebony Stone in the Rough</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Mr Self Destruct</strong> on <strong>15-06-2010, 19:26:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Hannibal said nothing as Ciara spoke, though he did take note of his companion's reactions.&nbsp; The five of them were strangers in a strange land, and it showed in their ignorance of the local customs, something they were all expecting but were not prepared for, it seemed.&nbsp; Even Hannibal, for all his prowess with a blade and his cunning and stealth, was like a stumbling infant in this realm of silent killers and stealthy hunters.&nbsp; The knowledge did not sit well with him, nor did the fact that Ciara had apparently declared herself the leader of their group.<br><br>He merely shrugged, and turned, entering the Bloody Dagger.&nbsp; His dark eyes scanned the room, searching for any hint of danger, real or imagined, before making his way to a table big enough for the lot of them.&nbsp; Sensing malice in such a place was not hard to do, though the calculating gazes that met his own were without intent.&nbsp; It was a game of bravado, of making certain that any newcomers knew you weren't to be trifled with, and it was game he had played quite well on the surface world.&nbsp; If only his reputation had traveled down here with him, those gathered at the inn wouldn't be so quick to eye him so readily.<br><br>He sat down at an empty table, his back to the wall, his viewpoint giving him a good view of both the door and the stairs leading to the rooms above.&nbsp; Years of training and experience had given him an almost second-hand nature on taking advantage of every situation, be it a crowded inn or a thin passageway with only one opponent.&nbsp; He had to make use of such advantages, and like the skilled warrior he was, it had become second nature to him now to do just that.<br><br>While the others entered and joined the table, he studied those around him, sizing up the place and their chances of survival in such a realm.&nbsp; Here, everything was darkness.&nbsp; Here, everywhere was danger.&nbsp; It both thrilled and frightened him to be in such a place, and with the task of not only besting such beings, but ultimately becoming one of them.<br><br>"Be wary of poison..." he said, reaching down to a pouch on his belt.&nbsp; "Newcomers are hardly ever served clean drinks in places like this."&nbsp; He pulled a pinch of some type of green herb from his pouch, and began handing them to each member of their group.&nbsp; "When your preferred beverage arrives, sprinkle this within, and wait.&nbsp; If it turns color, it is likely unsafe to drink."
			</dd>
		</dl>
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