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Post by Arwen on May 4, 2004 19:49:27 GMT -5
Indeed, he could not understand that. But right now, it didn't matter. They were together now, and at least for a while. And despite her slightly more cheery-- if that was what one may call it --now, he still sensed that inner emotion, though it was not the same as before.
And then again, it was. Just another thing that he simply did not, could not, would not understand. Alas for the poor man, so ignorant in this where in most other things he was so well learn`ed! But perhaps... P'raps that was another part of the reason as to why he lloved her so. Who knew? Even he did not! It was more of a thing of fate, one may call it. A blessing or a gift another might. Even a spur of the moment thing. The latter it was not, for a 'spur of the moment', as one might call it, lasts only for that moment.
And what would happen to him if she left with no words of farewell again? What would happen to her? Another disappearance like that and others of Avalbane might well find her suspicious, even more so than her entering in the raiment of a Drowish warrior. Now why hadn't he noticed the armour was of such before?
Tish, and why did that matter? He swung lightly up to the back of the tall horse behind Tiire, gripping her upper arm firmly in his a moment before brushing her long hair away so as to keep it out of his face. Not that he minded the sweet scent of the silken waves, but that he rathered not be blinded by stray strands windblown.
Being on the back of a horse behind another was a bit uncomfortable, out of his place, he decided just after settling in. A shift, a grunt, and another shift before he jumped down again, shaking his head. "I cannot ride behind, m'dear, it is simply too uncomfortable... Especially behind a woman." He added the last in jest, grinning wickedly before turning and giving a shrill whistle into the air. "Just a moment then, and I'll have a mount fit to beat your horse here any day." The last he gave before grinning once more, eyes twinkling in competition. Onyx pelt appeared, dashing towards them, obvious wings folded at the sides. The pegasus stopped then nearby, apparently at least a good 17 1/2 hands high... Silas stroked the creature's neck before leaping neatly up to her back.
Tiire had taught him to dance slowly, and he'd shown her what he knew about a fast one. And now would be the dance of light, swift hoofbeats upon lush grasses, ebon against ebon pelt, riding as the wind... The hair of all, mane and tail of equines, locks of elves (his of which was now nearly as long as Tiire's), swooping backward with the wind...
If she accepted his challenge.
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Post by Tiire on May 4, 2004 20:20:02 GMT -5
"Oh, youll be surprised! Valandil is the fastest horse in the lands, my dear Silas, and I bet youll have a hard time beating him."
She patted the horses mane lovingly, laughing at his jest about her inability as a woman. She knew, of course, that he was joking, becouse if he wasnt, his head would be rolling in the grass away from the rest of his body in a seconds notice.
"Hey! you wouldent last five seconds in the underdark, not only becouse your a faerie elf, and therefore hated and inferior, but your a worthless male, and therefore automatically a slave."
She grinned wickedly,
"Woman rule the cities of drow, and males arent even aloud to look them in the eye, lest they loose more than just the argument. In any case, Silas, I accept your challenge..."
Before saying another word Valandil reared, and started off towards the castle at break-neck speed, a speed that would normally outdistance a pack horse by far, but she was sure Silas could catch up.
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Post by Arwen on May 4, 2004 20:35:20 GMT -5
Silas gave a quick snort in reply. He wanted to make the come-back of 'But Mid here is no ordinary horse,' but as she'd already began off, he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth once, twice, and thrice, and the winged horse sped off after the other. Silas leaned down over the creature's strong neck, gripping her mane with lightly tangled fingers.
Ha! And he was catching up already! Was she simply holding the creature back, or was that as fast as he could go? Many years in these open fields had caused Mid, as the pegasus' name was, to grow used to the compact turf of the fields and dodging through the trees of the forest, so those of the orchards were really no big deal. Was the other simply having a hard time at that?
Soon they were right at the tail of Valandil. Mid didn't like being behind another, part of the reason she charged so quickly. But the competition flaring in Silas also fledged that in her...
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Post by Tiire on May 5, 2004 0:19:12 GMT -5
Tiire tilted her head to face him and gave the man a caustic grin that plainly stated, 'Im just getting started' that also held a feral-tinge to it, making her beautiful face look wild and free. She spurred her horse faster with a simple, short whistle, and the stallion, having no troubleat all with the comfortable, springy turf, quickly gained ground from Silas's pegasus.
Tiire and Valandil had been bonded together, so closley during the war campaigns that the gorgeus horse could almost hear her thoughts. He was still keeping what the horse thought a casual pace, even though what most saw would think they where rushing break-neck speed. The elf-woman was still sitting up strait, and only leaned in a slight bit, knee-leangth hair fluttering out behind her like a banner, or a mimic of the hooded cape she wore over her spider-armor.
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Post by Arwen on May 5, 2004 5:03:55 GMT -5
Ah yes, but now that they were nearly right behind them, Mid would pull into the slightly slower pace that Tiire and Valandil had now pulled back into. As they did so, Silas pulled backwards in his seat on the equine's back. And again, the pace was leisurely either way, but Mid, of the Elves as she was, would continue on like this for a while.
And look, there was the citadel not but a few short moments ahead... And they were along side the other pair, Silas glancing at Tiire with a sly grin before clicking Mid into a canter at least twice as fast as that already taken, and Silas leaned down simply for the feel of the muscles rippling under him.
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Post by Tiire on May 5, 2004 17:19:26 GMT -5
oh no you dont
she thought to herself, flicking Valandil's ear in signal. They where close enough to be able to do an all-out almost full speed run to reach the citadel, and with her horses superior running abilities, she probably could have won.
Probably.
Before the great horse could leap into a gallop, a hooded figure leaped from the bushes and pulled Tiire from her horse. She fell with a strangled yelp, and Valandil immeadiatly stopped. The great horse was about to charge when he recognised the scent of the one who had just ended the race, and was holding his master. He whinnied a greeting, just as the wind blew the hood from the figure.
Tiire was about to elbow the man in the gut (for indeed it was a man) when the hood was blown away to reveal the face of a grinning drow elf. Instead, she switched her tactics and threw her arms around the white-haired, black-skinned elf of the underdark,
"Dinedel!"
She laughed, hugging the elf tightly before taking a step back, her thoughts about winning the race or even about Silas fled as she looked upon the elf. He was tall for a drow, with the customary midnight-black skin and pure white hair. Drow skin was not like negro skin, for negro's actually have dark brown for a skin tone, where Drow's are actually pure blck. Dinendel was ann attractive one, (you barley ever found an unnattractive row elf) with his thisck slightly-wavy but not quite hair held back loosly by a pony-tail.
He had no bangs, of course, all drow elves keep their hair one leanth, and two long tentrils where left hanging away from the pony-tail, framing his face. Dinen had eyes the colour of amythyst, a strange colour for even a drow. The man had on his face a charming, slightly crooked grin as he patted Valandil and nodded to Tiire.
Becouse his disguise had been wrecked by a gust of wind, Dinen put on his head the hat hat he was never far from, and always wore. It was a wide brimmed, black hat (the brim dipped at the front, slightly to the right, which accented his crooked longer-on-the-left smile) that had the largest plumed feather you had ever seen thrusting out of it. The feather was from that of a cocatrice, a magical type of chicken-like bird that roamed around and where extremly large and difficult to find.
All in all, the drow was a stunning sight, but thats not the point of the matter. Tiire obviously knew him, and smiled at him broadly for a moment before turning and calling out to Silas,
"The race is off, Silas, Come here."
Dinen arched a slender brow at her, who was this Silas fellow? surley he, Dinendel Baenrae had heard the names of many drow, but not the faerie name of Silas. Had Tiire made a friend of a surface elf? The woman waved off Dinen's curious look, and said,
"Ill introduce you when he drags his arse over here, kay?"
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Post by Arwen on May 7, 2004 16:06:10 GMT -5
As soon as Tiire's ride had been interupted, Silas had pulled the mare to a stop, hairpinning about to face the opposite direction.
He'd been about to charge toward the two full throttle until the hood fell away and Tiire seemed to know him. Well then. It didn't surprise him to find that the fellow was a Drow. Tiire wasn't very open with others, now was she? All he gave was a slightly quirked brow for a few moments before trotting his ride back, and right at the words, 'the race is off'.
He dismounted with ease before approaching. Well then, here was a charming fellow... At least he seemed to be trying to be so. What a silly hat! ((had to throw that in. XD))
Ah well. He stood but a few feet away from the two, glancing back and forth between the two a moment before smiling ever so slightly. "Greetings, Dinedel, if I heard correctly? I am Silas..." He showed no trace of resentment towards the other, Drow though he was. Of course, the dwellers in Avalbane had become quite more openminded in the past century or two, and knowing Tiire had only helped him to accept others. So indeed it was true, he felt no nuiscance in the fellow's presense... Other than that it had ruined his few moments alone with Tiire.
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Post by Tiire on May 7, 2004 16:16:36 GMT -5
Dinendel, however, eyed Silas with open suspicion and seemed to be resisting the urge to lop the faerie elves head off. Drow had been born and bred hating the surface people, and although Dinen didnt particualarily hate anyone of any race until he had a chance to judge them, it was still an immeadiate reaction to want to hurt the man.
He smiled though, smiled that crooked, charming smile and swept of his hat, bowing most regally (and slightly mockingly, only slightly) to Silas, returning his hat to his head when he raised himself from the swift tilt of his body.
"Yes, you are correct. I am Dinendel Baenrae, of house Baenrae, Second child to matron mother Karolii, first house and leading house of Menzoberranzan."
This was a traditional drow greeting, first to say your name, then house, then rank. Of course, Dinen was no longer considered the prince he was born to be, becouse he had gone rouge ten years back, forsaking his house and leaving the city. He still returned on occasion, for although Dinen had disgraced his house and gone his own way, he had managed to build up significant "street reputation" so he wasnt killed on sight when entering the city.
"A pleasure to meet you."
He said, amythyst eyes twinkling.
Tiire was now leaning casually against the nearest tree, both happy to see Dinen and enjoying the pretty drow-elven accent in his words. It was nice to hear that accent again, even better is he had been speaking in drowish, but of course, dear little Silas did not know that language did he? She chuckled wryly.
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Post by Arwen on May 7, 2004 16:51:38 GMT -5
As if reading her thoughts, he launched into Drowish. "Natha ssrigg'tul ulu thalra dos 'zil al, Dinendel Baenrae. Usstan tlu ust rosin d'lil qu'ellar Daranow, dalharuk ulu Lessien d' Avalbane, lu' abbil ulu l' Ilythiiri vlos Seremidal lu' Dima Yvis." Some of his pronunciations were off, but the point came across fairly well. He grinned wickedly at that, lifting a brow as he turned to Tiire. Indeed, something that few but Dima and Seremidal herself knew was that Seremidal was of part Drowish blood.
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Post by Tiire on May 7, 2004 16:59:56 GMT -5
Dinen seemed pleased. Yes, the surface elf spoke with none of the fluent, song-like tune that personalizes the drow language, but he did get the words right, and was therefore passable on This drows list.
"Usstan zhaun naut d' whome dos telanth, drill tlun sae'uth d' dosst ability ulu telanth ussta xanalress."
His voice was the same, but the way he spoke made ones heart strings sing, it was music to the ears, beautiful and mysterious, sinister yet enticing. The true drowish language.
"Lu'oh zhah ol dos doerrus ulu thalra ussta Tiire?"
He asked, gesturing to The woman whos eyebrows had nearly shot off her forhead and into her hairline when she heard Silas speak Drowish. Tiire had composed herself, of course, and smiled slightly when she heard Dinens voice... the only thing she missed truley about to drow was their language.
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Post by Arwen on May 7, 2004 17:08:51 GMT -5
I know not of whome you say, but am pleased of your ability to say my language... This pleased the Elf. How is it you came to encounter my Tiire? And this perturbed him.
Did he hear the character correctly? My Tiire? Indeed he had. But the fellow contained himself without even the slightest twitch of the eye or lips, only cocked his head as if in thought.
"Ol zhah numl whol uns'aa ulu telanth nindel Usstan inbal quin ulu nym'uer l' xun statha, er'griff nindel ussta dalninil lu' usstan doerrus naudal udossta Tiire uss tangi pholor nindol ves thac'zil. Joros ilta d'lil v'dre."
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Post by Tiire on May 7, 2004 18:46:57 GMT -5
"Ah , siyo . Ji ol zhah ghil nindel il alus."
He laughed, winked at Tiire. Dinen had noted how this Silas fellow seemed to think Dinen's Tiire belonged to him also. Perhaps he even fell in love with the half-drow beauty? The drow had to laugh at this thought. Love. What a silly concept.
"Usstan zhahus wondering vel'klar dos alus vel'drav Usstan woke phor xuil nau uss tu'suul uns'aa."
He nudged Tiire in a friendly, way then said in common.
"It was nice speaking with one who knows my language, but I bore of simple convorsation. I came here for a reason, and that is to take Tiire back."
He turned pouty eyes upon the half-drow woman,
"You promised."
Tiire just laughed and shook her head at Dinendel's little performance. Thats right, infuriate the surface elf, then take the faerie's girl away. Dinen always was a scoundrel.
"Oh but Dinen, my abbil, what if I dont want to go? I will admit these darthien are far to flighty, but I am at peace to stay here for a while. Enough with the crude jokes, though, what was between us was long ago, and of no consequince now."
Dinen shrugged, smiled his charming smile, bowed a sweeping bow and tilted his hat.
"Well, it was nice passing by, but as I said, I have to get going. You know, places to go, rivvil and darthiir to torture. Good bye, and take care of my horse!"
He was refering to Valandil, of whome had once belonged to him. In the sweep of a black cloak, Dinendel was gone. Tiire smiled,
"So, what did you think of him? he was a friend of mine, back in the day."
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Post by Arwen on May 7, 2004 20:54:39 GMT -5
"Only friends?" he asked caustically, a rather dry smile across his features. He then shook his head, huffing out a breath, and turned back to Mid, stroking the overlarge creature's neck. "Elves too flighty. Would you consider me such, Tiire? Flighty!? Ah yes... But you see, Tiire, I happen to be different. I'd not consider Silas Daranow a normal elf, if I were you." He seemed fairly calm... Until of course his voice became a low growl and his hazel eyes flashed momentarily a brilliant crimson. "Do not rouse me, Tiire... It might mean death... For you, for me, for others in the citadel..."
He then mounted the creature once more and started back off in the direction they'd been going before Tiire's ride had been interupted. And he spoke as if nothing had happened. "Best hurry and get to your quarters so you can change and pray nobody sees that spider-armour. It is most certainly recognizeable enough to be Drowish.
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Post by Tiire on May 8, 2004 11:19:41 GMT -5
she wanted to scream at him. basically wanted to say: 'WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?!?!' but instead just threw up her arms and spat sarcastially,
"Ugh! Ill change when I want to. Did it ever occur to you I dont give a damn if they see me? There are plenty of places in this world to go if these guys kick me out. EVEN if Ive already been shunned from half of them!"
She flung herself onto Valandil and glared at Silas. Why was he being so touchy? so.... possessive. As if SHE didnt know how to take care of herself!
"By Lolth, your worse than the Rivvil right now."
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Post by Arwen on May 8, 2004 20:55:20 GMT -5
At her words, he wrenched around, frowning slightly. But his frown of anger turned to sadness, or rather something quite close to shame, as his gaze fell across her. The equine pulled to a halt as he fell to a hunched position, head hanging, causing his hair to fall in front of his face. A sigh escaped him as this came about, and he seemed to completely deflate before eyeing her from beneath the hanging tendrils.
"I'm sorry, Tiire... Really I am..."
He squinted his eyes shut with this, and he was quite obviously grinding his teeth together by the way his jaw moved back and forth and a tell-tale muscle in his cheek began to twitch.
"I just get... Carried away. You see... Oh, nevermind. You wouldn't understand. 'Tis my problem, and not yours..."
He seemed quite unsure a moment, and then glanced full up at her again. "But would you answer me a question, Tiire? You have said you cannot and would not stay here forever. But would you be true to me?"
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Post by Tiire on May 8, 2004 22:24:21 GMT -5
"ach, Silas. Did I not promise you my faith with those words spoken not so long ago?? of course I would stay faithful. Usstan ssinssrigg dos. I love you."
She repeated the words in both her known languages, pulling her mount up close to his so she could place a kiss upon his lips, tenderly. She was not a tender-like person, so this was rare for her.
"And what do you mean I wouldent understand? bloody Darthiir, thinks that of all people, <i>I</i> would not understand! but thats alright, keep your secret."
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Post by Arwen on May 9, 2004 16:06:50 GMT -5
He noticed the tenderness in her touch, and returned it momentarily before pulling back again as she spoke, and then sighed.
"Fine... You want to know?" he asked in a slightly exaggerated bit of annoyance. "I'll tell you, I suppose." A few moments were taken to sort out his thoughts, and he dismounted the pegasus as he did. The creature lay herself down at his bidding of a wave of his hand, and he sat and leaned against her.
"When negative emotions build up in me after a number of years, I get touchy, thus the sarcasm and such that you just recieved from me. When sufficiently roused, Blood-lust beyond that of even the average Drow consumes me." Another sigh. "Last time it happened was many years ago yet... And it wasn't pretty. I was in Anoria with our friend Dima Yvis when it consumed me. Some Human in the streets made a wry comment, that is all that it took. Of course, I was already annoyed for the fact that another human had tried to cheat us badly on a deal, and insisted that our knowledge in sales was poor for we were continuing to try at haggling lower. Regardless, it consumed me, and I went mad. Killed three Anorians of lesser shifts and eight humans before they managed to control me. And it wasn't peaceably. "Dima knew better than to try at knocking me unconscious. Three well aimed rocks hadn't worked the last time, but I'd awoken with a severe headache. Regardless, this time, he made sure that they didn't hit me upside the head. Instead, they shot me numerous times in less vital areas with crossbows." With these words, he began to laugh, though it was half-hearted. "Yes... Nobody knows how many times they pierced me with those arrows before I finally fell. It was at least seven though, as those are the only scars left... The others were completely healed. Two here on my palms," He lifted his hands to reveal one scar by his thumb, and another straight through the middle of his palm "two in my arms, one in my shoulder, and two in my legs..." He finished by pulling aside his tunic to reveal a similar scar in his right shoulder, near the collarbone, pulling up his right sleeve-- two were through his biscep, and then both trouser legs. One rested on his right calve, the other through his left thigh. "After they managed to fell me, four men and three Anors had to literally pin me down so I couldn't get up again I struggled so. And Humans of course are nowhere as light as Elves. Neighter or course are Anors, especially in the forms these were in-- Wolf, horse, and Tiger. They forced a hefty overdose of a sleeping herb on me enough to kill the average near immediately. But of course, I continued to fight for nigh on an hour. Tiring, but Dima'd not allow them dose me more for the fact that it probably would have killed me. Next day I awoke with a horrid headache."
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Post by Tiire on May 10, 2004 16:57:26 GMT -5
she smiled. She knew what the sympoms where. She used to have a friend, Mairk, who was like that.
"Geez, Silas, why didnt you tell me you where a berzerker?"
She asked, tilting her head to the side and smiling.
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Post by Arwen on May 10, 2004 17:02:24 GMT -5
He cocked a brow at these words. Yes, he recognized the joking tone, but something inside of him would not let him take it jokingly, though he wanted to. His eyes flashed momentarily, but he shook his head and stood again, story done.
"Come on, would you?"
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Post by Tiire on May 10, 2004 17:05:17 GMT -5
"Yes, alright."
She said, a bit angry at him. Tiire hopped onto Valandil and bumped his sides, heading to the castle without a backward glance at him.
"Stupid silas... thinks hes so great... god, why do I love him?!?"
she muttered as her horse cantered away.
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