Welcome to Gaia! ::

As Mikaril continued to work on Kyil's hair, he chuckled a little at the suggestion of better food. "We can find a place and eat there once we're finished here. I know it was probably more bland than you're used to. I'm a lot more used to bland food; anything too aromatic can interfere with my thieving ability. But now that we won't be doing thieving for a little while, I see no harm in getting something more desirable to eat." He splashed water onto Kyil's hair to get the rest of the soap out and gave himself one last dunking for good measure, feeling a lock of hair stick to his face. He wondered for an instant about that hair softening oil, but he found himself grinning at the silliness of it. His hair would only get dirty in a few days and then he'd have oily and dirty hair. But it was nice of Kyil to suggest it. The trimming he didn't care as much about it; nobody ever saw it anyway.

Grabbing his towel, Mikaril pulled himself up out of the water and walked toward his pile of clothes, leaving a trail of wet footprints in the stone. "I'll wait a bit for you to file your callouses off, then we can get going. The sooner we get rested and restored, the sooner we can reach my house and then be on our way back. I'd really like to test out that theory of a room full of portals." After vigorously drying himself off, he reached for his clothes and put them back on. They felt soft and clean, and smelled vaguely of rosewater. Even the delicate silver threads he had used to decorate the otherwise plain outfit hadn't been frayed. They had done a fabulous job.

He used his towel to wipe out the insides of each piece of armor before putting it on, ensuring that the last of the dirt was gone. Once he had finished, he stood there fully armored, waiting for Kyil to finish up. This had definitely been a lot better than the last time they had visited a bath house; even the selection was better. He made a mental note that until they had their own bathing room, they were to get themselves a private area instead of using the public area. He could still feel his scalp tingling where Kyil's fingers had been; he swore he had never felt his hair to be cleaner. Well, come what may, at least he would be clean and presentable when he entered his house. He may have been far from the favorite, but he was still a member of the house, and should at least maintain the dignity that came with it.

He walked out of the bath house and back into the open air, waiting for the presence of the eyes. He turned to Kyil and smiled. "So, you would like something other than fish; what did you have in mind? I know where many different foods are to be found here; just let me know what you want and I shall take us there."

The windows of the apartment were little more then metal frames with strips of thin metal across them that could be shifted open or closed by means of a lever on the inside. There was a locking mechanisim on the inside that would allow someone to swing the frame open inwardly. The first two windows Nuumia tested were firmly latched and would not open to allow him to see inside. The third he was fortunate, and by wiggling his dagger between the metal strips he was able to pry them open so he could see within.

A older male was sitting inside with his back to a wall. Nuumia glanced over his shoulder and peered down at the bath house, then looked back inside the room.

"Pssst. Hey. Old guy." Nuumia called to the male. The stranger looked up, his head jerking towards the window where he spied the clinging shape of Nuumia. For a old man he was pretty quick, in just bare seconds he was on his feet and had a crossbow pointed steadily at the window.

"Whoa! hey wait!" Nuumia called out and held up his left hand in which he currently held his coin purse. The sight of the purse at least was enough to make the male hesitate in fireing at least.

"What do you want?" He asked after a tense moment.

"To hire you for something real simple and quick. Easy money. You don't even have to leave the room." Nuumia replied with a light hearted tone to his voice. It could have been the curious manner in which he spoke, or more likely the lingering sight of the coin purse that got the male to tilt his head.

"Go on." He responded.

"It's simple. I'll give you some money to stab me and shove me off this window ledge." Nuumia's light tone didn't even falter. In fact he even smiled at the male. Whatever was going through his head, Nuumia was sure it was full of disbelief.

"You want me to kill you?" The male definatly sounded disbelieving.

"No no. never said kill. I just need you to take this dagger..." Nuumia reached into his belt and wiggled out a thin looking blade. He held it up at the male and continued. "... and I want you to stab it here." As a matter of reference Nuumia took the point of the dagger and lightly tapped it into the flesh of his upper arm. "And with the stab push me backwards out the window."

By now the male's brows were furrowed. "And you'll pay me for this?"

"Yup. I'll pay you extra if you'll yell something nice and threatening at me after I fall. Something nice and loud and refering to me as a thief." Nuumia's eyes nearly gleamed with how widely he smiled.

The male had to be sharp witted for his age. Nuumia was sure he saw a look of understanding cross his face. "Fine then." He agreed.

Nuumia nodded his head to the window itself. "Best open this then. I don't think..."

"No I think not." The male interrupted. Nuumia blinked and tilted his head as the male swung his crossbow to point at Nuumia once more. " I've a better idea. You slip the coins through the grate onto the window sill. Then I'll shoot you with my bolt in the arm. The force alone at such close range should push something as scrawny as you right off the ledge."

Nuumia glanced at the closed window thoughtfully. Well, it would make him seem like a extremely poor thief to not even get as far as opening the window. And he wasn't looking to impress the possible Mikaril person with his thievery hack job.

"Fine, But I'll only slip the coins through when I'm ready to be shot. Wouldn't do me much good if you decided to just shoot me right away now would it?" Nuumia replied with his cheerful smile. The male seemed to be a little unsettled by the manner Nuumia continued to grin, but he gave his head a small nod."

"Great! So then...we'll just wait here until I'm ready..." Nuumia spoke while casting a glance downwards. Now all he had to hope was that this was the direction that the green cloak was going to walk in. Or else this was going to get a lot more complicated...

And...complicated it did not seem to be. The green cloak was easily noted when he left the bath house. From where he crouched he could see the long white hair of the female as she worked at smoothing it out. Odd, wouldn't she have had Mikaril comb it or something before they left? It didn't matter. "Get ready." Nuumia called to his temporary partner.

He waited until Mikaril was not more then seven paces away. Dropping the coins into the slats, he turned to look at the male...and felt a searing burning pain in his arm. True tot he males words, the crossbow bolt hit with enough force to send Nuumia spining off the ledge. He twisted mid air, attempting to gain control of his fall, but with such a short distance there was no way...

Nuumia thudded to the stone face down. The bolt in his arm gave another agoniseing throb. He was dimly aware of the sound of the window grating being opened, and the males voice spat out.

"Bolts poisoned Vithin theif!" He heard the male shout at him. Poisoned? Oh...damn...

Kyil was startled out of his pleasent mood by the sudden body that seemed to fall from the ceiling. His pink eyes widened as he looked upon what seemed to be the small body of a child. The shouted words from above just pulled at his heart. He shot him!? The poor boy! And poison? It wasn't too hard for Kyil's mind to return to the time when Mikaril fell from a rooftop due to poison himself. There seemed to be some sort of sense of familarity in this situation...

No..Kyil was not about to abandon the poor child, and he was grateful when Mikaril took charge right away. Who knew! Perhaps the boy would be their first gang recruit! He obviously wanted to be a thief right?

Kyil knelt and hefted the unprotesting form into his arms. Nuumia was, in compare to Kyil, just slightly one third smaller and his frame was quite light. Perhaps due to the fact he wore no armor eh? he was extremely grateful that ikaril saw fit to take command of the situation, and he nodded his head. If nothing else, Kyil was good at following orders!

He kept glanceing down at the boy, and once he was certain he saw his eyes flutter open then closed. They were oddly dark, as was his hair. Ah! He had such questions! Instead though Kyil carried the boy to the room that Mikaril had purchased. "I am sure I can get the bolt out Master." He replied quickly before it was Mikaril dashed off.

It was encouraging to see mikaril making haste to help the boy. Kyil had no such concerns about this being a bad idea. Not when he laid the boy down and began to inspect his wound.

The bolt had been forced clean through the boys arm. Perhaps by the fact his arm was so slender, or perhaps due to the fact he landed on the shaft from his fall. Either way the wound was terribly bloody. Bits of meat still clung to the bolt head. Kyil shuddered a little and reached to begin gently pulling the bolt through the wound.

"My master will be back soon with a anti-toxin boy. In the mean time I'm going to remove the bolt and start cleaning your wound out." Kyil gently spoke.

Miakril dashed throught he doors of the inn and up the stairs as fast as he dared without fear of tripping and making an even bigger spectacle of himself than he knew he already was. Hopefully nobody who saw him would bring to mind any other instances where they might have seen a similar figure running around with a billowing green cape, one that had emerged from a certain bath house....

He knocked hurriedly on the door. "Kyil it's me!" He waited until his friend had opened the door, and then he rushed over quickly to the injured boy, who seemed awake enough to cry at the injury. It struck him as slightly odd, seeing the little one crying. It took him back to a time when it had been hammered into his head that drow NEVER cry. Crying was a symbol of weakness, and would be percieved as such by anyone who saw it. he had learned that long ago in order to survive in his house. Well, perhaps this little one hadn't been part of a house for a while; it would certainly explain his thieving attempt.

He uncorked the vial and dribbled it a little bit at a time into the boy's mouth, waiting for him to swallow before he poured any more. It felt rather odd; it made him feel as though he were on Kyil's end when he himself had been stricken and had been made to take medicine. Of course, he thought it was safe to assume that he hadn't been half as compliant as this boy.

When the last of the vial had disappeared, Mikaril reached into his cloak's inner pocket and pulled out a small first aid kit. "I know you've probably done plenty for his wound, but in case you needed anything more, there's everything you need for a quick fix; dressings, gauze, and the dark stuff in the little bottle is strong wine; you can use it to either clean the wound or placate the wounded; works either way." That being said, he sat on the edge of one of the beds, watching the boy with interest and a little concern.

"Hmm...." Mikaril pondered for a moment. "I'm not much good at wound repair; I can do a little stitching, but that's as far as I can go. Do you think he might need clerical help? Like a healing spell?" He sincerely hoped not; clerics would be hard persuaded to perform a healing on a mere male, and he definitely didn't want to ask the Blackened Fist for help. Perhaps they could find a one-use healing wand they could purchase and cure him that way? He couldn't help but think that if they had to go through this much trouble, he really hoped that the boy had some damn good information.

Mikaril was taken slightly aback by the boy's bluntness, but then again, he supposed in this world it was always a good idea to question a supposed 'act of kindness'. After all, he did have a motive for rescuing him, never mind that he probably would have done the same thing even if he didn't have a motive. Hoping that Kyil wouldn't think him overly callous, he moved off the bed and went over to look down at Nuumia. "My name is Mikaril, and this is my friend, Kyil. We're here on business, but it has been a while since we have been here. We picked you up off of the street and took you out of harm's way. I thought that in return you might answer a few questions I have about a certain house that exists in this part of the city. Of course, if you're not feeling up to it, I'm willing to give you a little bit to rest. Falling off of a rooftop can really take it out of you, believe me I know."


He turned back to Kyil and smiled. "At least he's speaking now; that's a good sign. If I go and get us all some food, will you be alright here with him? I'll see if I can find a shop that sells a healing wand too."

Nodding at Kyil, then shrugging at the boy, Mikaril walked over to the door and opened it. "Suit yourself. I'll be back shortly." He winked at Kyil before walking out to put his mind at ease; he would probably go ahead and buy a healing wand anyway, if just for them to have in case of an emergency. It never hurt to be prepared, and they might need it if they happened to run into Haellara during their trip here. He wouldn't put it past her to do something out of spite when he made his presence known once again in House Torlyl.

He walked back out the door of the inn and looked around once he made the street, letting his nose guide him to a stand that had large chunks of seasoned rothe sizzling over a smoking fire. He eagerly bought a large chunk and wrapped it in paper, then he went to another a few stands down and bought a loaf of bread with herbs and bits of rothe cheese melted on top of it. He finally looked about for 'custard', and when he didn't find it right away, he ventured a little deeper, still finding the time to glance in the general direction of his house. At least 20 stands down, he finally found a stand that sold custard as an exotic dessert, and not caring for the look of it, bought a small container of it for Kyil and a mint-flavored candy stick for himself.

Finally, he wandered away from the food stands and toward the more magically inclined shops, where he had little trouble finding a healing wand, and since there was no hurry, he happily cheesed off the shopkeeper with his insistent bartering before walking away with it, the first satisfactory price he had paid since returning. Feeling as though he had done well, he began to walk back toward the inn, passing familiar places as he did so. He saw a corner where he recalled he and another male drow had worked as a temporary team; one had distraced the crowd with tricks and antics, while the other had cheerfully picked the crowd's pockets dry. Another place he passed reminded him of the street he had been walking down where he had met a female drow whom he had ended up teaming up with to rob her house. He fancied he could almost see the glint of the ring she had dropped to lure him to her when they had first met; as good a reminder as any of the dangers of picking things up off of the ground.

He finally returned to the inn and walked through the doorway yet again, wondering if anyone noticed his frequent trips in and out. Drow tended to mind their own business, but that didn't mean they failed to notice things. Were it not for him knowing his way around, he might have asked Kyil to alternate with him, but no matter; after this, they wouldn't need to go out again for a while.

Inside the throne room of House Torlyl, Matron Mother Haellara was sitting on the exquisitely decorated throne room, awaiting word from her little spy, Nuumia. He usually had some means of letting her know that all was as it had been the day before, but her means of scrying had picked up a strange sort of signal, as though Nuumia had fallen prey to something. It puzzled her; the little speck of a male was surprisingly adept at avoiding trouble and injury; it was one of the very reasons she had assigned the job of watching for her brother to him. She honestly hoped he had not fallen prey to a common street thug; they were less common here in Brudag, but for Nuumia to fall to something like that......it would have been a major disappointment. After all, he was supposed to be something special, as special as a mere male could possibly get.

She had waited patiently for days, weeks, then months for her little brother to return. Ever since she had awoken with the premonition and felt the subtle scrying tug of his house insignia that told her of him drawing ever nearer, she had been waiting eagerly. Now that she was in charge of House Torlyl, she would ensure that once he arrived he would lever leave the house alive. He would pay for all his years of rebellion and blatant disregard for his duties as a male. He would eventually become what every male should have considered the ultimate status; a sacrifice to Lolth. But first, she would use him in a way that until now she hadn't thought possible. Before his soul went to Lolth, he would serve her for as long as she could keep him alive, as her own living spell component.

She had been going over in her mind how well the test of her new torture machine had gone in her playroom, the one she planned to use to puncture fresh drow skin and milk components like one milked a rothe, when she heard a slight commotion outside of her throne room, and as Nuumia entered, she sat up straight. His failure to show her the proper protocol was passed over at his two simple words, and she all but leaped up from her chair. At last! He was finally here! She could barely contain her excitement, but she was not so ecstatic to fail to notice the way Nuumia favored his arm or the unusual glossy hue of his black eyes. She held out a slender hand and beckoned to him. "Come here." She pulled out a potion with her other hand and handed it to him. "Drink that; it should mend your arm and quicken the poison's exit through your body. You will also inform me of how you came to be injured. But is there time? Is he staying long, as we had anticipated? Come; tell me everything."

When Nuumia had begun to speak, Haellara had rapped the butt of her weapon on the stone floor three times, summoning her oldest brother and bodyguard, whom she quickly motioned to her side in order for him to likewise hear Nuumia's account. She planned to send him and a few others to this inn and catch her brother unawares, before he could make any attempt at escape, or entering the house on his own. She was fairly certain that there were places in House Torlyl that he knew of and she didn't and if he got the opportunity to use them, she might never find him.

But when Nuumia mentioned the second drow, her eyes shot up into her hair and she suddenly became much more interested. Her brother, finding a mate? What a strange and unexpected turn of events, not to mention a delightful source of a fresh batch of mind games she could play once she had him in her grasp. But as Nuumia clarified that it was a male rather than a female, her interest doubled rather than dropped. Had her brother then delved into the love which dare not speak its name? Or had he just gotten lucky enough to acquire a slave in his travels? She felt inclined to think on the former, judging by the way Nuumia described the affection they seemed to have for each other. Of course, Mika didn't seem like the slave-abusing type, but then again, he seemed hardly the type to have a slave at all. So many questiond left unanswered, and she planned to find out the answers herself.

She turned to her bodyguard the instant Nuumia had finished. "Take two others and go to this inn. Subdue Mikaril and his companion and bring them straight here, to the throne room. Be firm, but I want them unharmed. Understand?" The burly male nodded and strode from the room without a backward glance. Smiling, Haellara leaned back in her chair, sparing a short glance at Nuumia. "Well done. Retire or remain here, whichever you prefer. I intend to wait until they are brought before me." She shivered with the elation; it had been too long since she had had a subject like her smaller, softer brother. And now it seems there was a second plaything incuded, one that sounded even softer and more prone to breaking than her Mika! This would be the most fun she will have had since the night her mother had died.


Passersby in the streets scrambled to get out of the way as the three males strode with definite purpose toward the inn. When they arrived, the usual commotion died down, and the stares were open. The innkeeper moved toward them, but as one of them held up the Torlyl house insignia and backed it with a menacing glare, the other backed down and gestured helpfully toward the stairs. The biggest leaned down and whispered a few terse words. "Two drow, male. Green cape, girl clothing. Which room?" The shaken keeper was happy to tell them, and soon the three were creeping up the stairs and stood at the door of the room. Without bothering to knock, the largest slammed into the door twice before it caved in, and the three spilled into the room, weapons ready.