The NEW Dagger [Docked in Tortuga]

[Chath Tiu]

Storm laughed.

"Yes, why don't we just ask them, hm? Oh, wait, we can't. You ******** humans killed us all."

She spat at Kibo's feet.

"A curse to you all. I hope another race comes along and destroy's you. Sacks your cities, rapes women, and feeds your men to the younglings. The gods are fair in their curelties."

 

[Chath Tiu]

Storm gave a small wave of her hand, as if to toss his presumptions aside.

"I didn't say you were uncivilzed. You humans out numbered the rest of us, nearly three to one. All the other races's birth rates were at an almost all time low. Magic was starting to leave the land then. Goblins and their kin had taken their toll on the elves and dwavars, as well.

"And still the humans bred and honed their petty little swords and bent great bows of oak and ash and rowan. They hadn't joined the wars, no, not in the slightest. If one of their own towns were attacked, the invaders were repulsed, and that town strangthen. Really, it wasn't hard to try and discover what the rodents were trying to do: take the land for themselves and damn the rest."

 

[Chath Tiu]

Storm sighed.

"You weren't there, you didn't see the distruction, the deaths, all those frail bodies dropping, burned, out of trees. Dead, dead, dead never to dance again."

She was hugging herself now and staring at the deck, not seeing it.

"Villages, cities, farms, mines, burrows, dells....it made no difference where we hide, where we tried to make a stand. The only solstance anyone found were the drow, and even we took heavy causulties...two cities survived in the Undersdark. Two. Two where they were once dozens of our 'homesteads'. The lucky few surface Folk hide away near one or t'other of our pits of hell."

 

[Chath Tiu]

Storm's eyes snapped up to Kibo's face, burning with unfortold fury and hatred for him, for all of them. She began speaking in high drow, quickly, clipply, as if all her Common words had deserted her.

"Dos talinth nindol zhah xxilfet khalith? Nindel nindol zhahus xxilfet elgluth? Nui! No! The huamns, the ********, gods forsaken beasts began it all. They raped then killed a High Lord's son. He was sent on a diplomatic mission, to try and reconcile xenospecies relations. The so called Goblin Wars had strained them."

 

[Chath Tiu]

Storm snarled at him. Actually snarled.

"You stupid idiot! I am speaking your barabaric language, yes? Then how are you not getting this? Are you wanting me to open a vein and spell it out in blood, yes? Will it get through to you then?"

A dagger was in the drow's hand then, and she was shoving up the opposite arm's sleeve.

 

[Chath Tiu]

Storm started laughing then. It started out as a harmless gidgle, at first, but then she couldn't seem to stop and it just grew and grew and grew. Fianlly though, the drow managed to stop long enough to gasp out:

"Do you know why I haven't left yet? Because you have to know."

A tiny giggle, quickly quelled by the quoriousl hands.

"Because you've forgotten and you have to know. Know, know, no, no, knew, no more."

It seemed almost as if she'd snapped. Lost her marbles. O'mally moved out and took the furniture with him. Gone bananas. Cukoo'd her last coco puff.

Storm hugged herself, shivering with cold that wasn't there, still giggling occational.

"Humans have angered t'other gods and they have forgotten...mal...mal...Malcom Reynolds...if only he were still around...but no, he was killed as well...killed for harboring gnomes. Gnomes and grumpkins and snarks."

 

[Chath Tiu]

Storm sounded disgusted.

"'Functioning correctly'? No, my darling dearest, never have I been functioning more correctly then today. Finally, I can hear, I can feel, I can taste, I can smell and I can finally, finally see."

She spat at Kibo's back.

"So flee then, you poor, blind fool. Let yourself be deluded by aintings of granduer and power. Go, and win your throne of the dead. May you reign with an iron fist clad in a velvet glove, and may your victims suffer for their 'insolences'.

"After all, you aren't evil, you are forging a world with agressive negotions. All those children, all the babies dead at their mother's breast, they all died for a reason, a rhym, a purpose."