|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Dec 03, 2008 7:54 pm
Once again strolling along her familiar shore, Valin was, once again again, mulling over what kind of music shecould sing and what effect it could have upon her mists. For instance, if she could figure out or find some sort of espionage music, would that allow her to hide within her mists without fear of being spied even if she were to appear before those who happened to become trappe within the mists?
The problem was that music was so difficult to locate in the Underdark. It would get her killed someday if another Drow learned that she was sneaking music from the above world in order to sing. As of yet she only had one musical score, and the name was just enough not to be considered otherworldly in her opinion. But what of the opinion of others? Not that she cared, she never dealt much with other Drow anyways, but should one happen to hear her without her realizing it she might be in trouble.
That is, if they could recognize the song and not get trapped in its effect. Her music was directly attatched to her emotions, or the emotions of the song. Her Moldau tended to ensnare ones attention, as the fog of her mists melded to form a nearly impenitrable wall of grey, one which held fast whatever lingering sadness the ensared might have. She had yet to met one who could break her Siren's Song when first met with it, but there was a first for everything. Her shore had been quiet for a while, and then had a sudden influx of passersby, and then grew quiet again. It was the perfect time for someone to catch her unawares as she expected the stillness to hold for a few more days.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Dec 03, 2008 8:28 pm
Valyrr Baen'duis had really thought that he had managed to outgrow the position of messenger boy when he graduated from Llurth Dreir's warrior training school. Clearly he was mistaken. Though, to be fair, he hadn't actually been sent with a message this time. He'd been sent on an enforced vacation without explanation and told to come back in a month. It was really a ridiculous thing. He guessed someone had either found out about his penchant for wandering nights and getting in fights, or there was something to do with Shri going on in the House, and his presence wasn't welcome. Either way, it was made equally clear that Llurth Dreir would not be a good place to take a vacation.
So he had decided to travel farther abroad. Take in the Glimmersea. He'd never really gotten an opportunity to enjoy the place. It was not an ideal vacation spot, really. His funds were limited, though not severely, and so he had to watch his spending and stay in a somewhat less-than-savory inn. He didn't mind that. He was clever enough not to be taken, and talented enough at martial arts that no one was going to roll him unless they killed him first, and that would take more effort than most thieves were willing to go to for the sake of whatever meager earnings a male warrior might have on him.
Despite the fact that the Glimmersea quickly lost its lustre (if not its glimmer) after a few days, Val remained, walking along its shore and trying to acclimate himself to the sensation of wet sand beneath his feet. The place was very different from the dry heat of Llurth Dreir, with its dampness and the fog that seemed to linger along the shoreline nearly all the time. He'd come quickly to the conclusion that he would not like to have to fight anyone enshrouded in fog. It dampened sound and made his infrared vision nearly useless, and it hindered his regular sight, too. Not to mention the obvious fact that it was wet and seemed to cling moistly to a person and weight him down.
And yet one sound carried through the effects of the ever-present mist: music. It was not something commonly heard in the Underdark, as drow were not given to the creation of music. Val had heard it said that those Above believed this was because the Underdark was populated by evil creatures, and evil was incapable of creating music. That was ridiculous. It was simply that most people did not bother to create music because it was not in great demand. He knew a few tunes which were standard fare for a warrior and completely inappropriate to repeat in noble company, but amusing for their bawdiness. That was not the kind of music he heard, though.
He followed the sound as best he could until he found himself looking at a drowess who was also wandering the shore, and evidently the source of the music. He wasn't sure whether he ought to disturb her or not, as the mist around her looked somehow different from the mist he had been walking through every morning. More sentient, maybe? On the other hand, if he said nothing, she might construe it as an attempt at stealth on his part, and that could turn out badly.
So he coughed softly.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Dec 03, 2008 8:53 pm
The ringing voice stopped immediately after the cough fell upon Valin's ears, almost at the same time she noticed her mists tapping her on the shoulder in warning. She cursed inwardly at herself; she had spent so much time thinking about what would happen that she had not been paying attention to what was actually happening, and had now been caught. Turning to give the armed Drow a stare, restraining her mists from soaking into his clothes and dragging him to the ground only because he had actually warned her of his presence.
She lifted an eyebrow at the Drow, unsure if he could see the action from where he was or not. No one had ever actually warned her before. Actually, there had been few who had actually known about her before she had discovered and promptly taken action against them. The act was still a surprise to her, however, it did nothing alleviate her wariness towards the unknown Drow. Especially as he carried a weapon, probably a warrior, though what he would be doing along her shore she did not know.
Her mists spread about her hands, some circling her so that she could stroke it and watch the other Drow, some drifting over to circle the other Drow himself. She cocked her head to the side, allowing the first sound other than a song to part her lips for the first time in days, "Who goes there?"
It gave her quite the urge to laugh at saying such a thing, as she could imagine a soldier saying it. As ironic as it seemed to her, she was still waiting on how the other took it, whether he left or proclaimed his name, or asked for hers. Her eyes narrowed. Who ever tried to ask for her name before stating their own usually found themselves eating some of the soft sand or rock that they happened to be standing on. This Drow did not seem so droll as to try such a thing, but then she never knew with others, she didn't really meet anyone too often. And those she did she usually scared away before they could try anything past a name, though usually it was she who asked the questions.
As this Drow was obviously not a theif, or if he were he had not chosen the best of disguises, Valin had no immediate ill will against him. She had only to wait and see what his intentions would be. It was a now reoccuring situation for her, wondering what another would do, one she was unsure of yet if she liked it or not. It certainly was interesting, to say the least.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Dec 04, 2008 3:47 pm
Val held himself very still and made no attempt to come closer. He could see more clearly now, and it was obvious that the mists near him were responsive to the will of the drowess he had stumbled across. He flexed a muscle in his shoulder which would cause it to press against the sheath of his weapon, which he wore diagonally across his back. He did this to reassure himself that he still wore his weapon, and that he could reach it easily if he had to, though a sword seemed trifling against someone who could control the very air he breathed.
Her words, however, would have provoked a chuckle if he had been in more familiar company. He had never actually heard anyone utter those three words in that particular order before. At least, not with any sort of somber intonation. When he was younger he would play at being a warrior and he occasionally issued such challenges to imaginary foes, until it had been pointed out to him by his older brother that no foe in the Underdark would announce itself when invited to, and would instead rush in and slay him. It had been a disappointing moment in young Valyrr's life, but not a particularly crushing one. The female's challenge had reminded him of it, though, and reminded him to be wary.
"My name is Valyrr," he said, leaving off his House name because it would mean next-to nothing on the shore of the Glimmersea, so far from his home in Llurth Dreir.
He was aware that it would be obvious from his accent that he was not a local resident. For whatever reason, denizens of Llurth Dreir seemed to have an accent unique in the Underdark which most tended to be unaware of until they came to spend time with people from other cities, or came to be in other cities. Val had done a great deal of travelling while he was still training to be a warrior, since his aunt had decided to use him as an errand boy, and every new place he went he tended to receive odd looks from the locals for his accent. He supposed other places must have their own, unique accents, but his ear was not trained to hear such things.
"I beg your pardon. I heard music, and I followed the sound to its source," he continued, keeping his tone low and even in hopes of placating her, in case he had managed to irritate her. "It was not my intention to disturb you."
He made sure as he spoke that his hands were within view, so that she could see he was not trying to do anything clever which would ultimately prove stupid or fatal. He knew how to do some slight of hand and there were a few magical tricks he could do wich would require almost no motion on his part at all, but he held those in reserve. If he didn't need them, he did not wish to make use of them. It would only antagonize the drowess, who seemed to be some sort of mage, if she could command mists.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Dec 04, 2008 5:38 pm
Well, his first plus was that he had stated his name, without even asking for hers. His accent reminded Valin of her mother's, causing her to tilt her head to the side, wondering if she could get him to say more to make sure.
As one who was often traveling she could normally tell when another had picked up an accent. Though she could not usually tell what accents came from what areas, she knew her mother had grown up in Llurth Dreir. Valin herself had lived on the outskirts of the city, but she had rarely spoken before her mother's murder and so had not picked up on any vocal tendancies herself. Other than her tendancy to sing, of course.
When he did say more she let her ears listen carefully, her head nodding slightly as she picked out the same accent her mother had spoken with, though his was not as lilting as hers. And she doubted he would think the same as her mother. After all, as she had learned from Divintra, her mother's lessons were considered herecy to Lloth.
"My name is Valin, and it was of little disturbance to me," she replied, letting her head tilt back upright as she blinked at Valyrr, "Our names sound similiar." Yes, she would admit normal conversation was not her forte, but she had not meant to sound so like a child. She shook her head and let her mouth open again to give the observance she had originally wanted to point out, "Not many would peacefully listen to my music and willingly seek it out." The fact that Valyrr had gave her curiousity a small edge up on her attention.
"You are from Llurth Dreir, are you not? Or somewhere around there," she said, drawing images in her mind of the bustling marketplace she used to visit with her mother, "It is not exactly a place which encourages music, at least, not the parts that I have seen." Her curiousity shone almost blatantly in her eyes as she waited for some sort of explanation as to his actions. She wondered if he would give any explanation at all, as her questions would put most in the lair of confusion. At least, they had to those she had met so far.
Then again, she usually fled from most Drow who had appeared before her with large weaponry. Yes, she could try to drown the Drow, but one, she normally had nothing to gain by conversing with warriors, and two, from her experience with them, her mother being a warrior herself, it would take a while for them to go down. Long enough to draw their weapon which Valin's mists could do little to protect against and attack. And she did not enjoy when she was the one under attack; she reserved that fear and uncertainty for theives and cutthroats that happened to cross her path.
This Drow was neither. And her curiousity was inkling at her with a new idea about him. She had seen how her Siren's song had effected thugs and theives and murderers, but she had yet to see what effect it would have on a being with higher intelligence and awareness than a simple thug. Though she did not want to incite any unnecessary hostility from the Drow by testing her power on him without his knowledge, perhaps he would ask to hear more? She could only wait and see where this conversation would turn.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Dec 04, 2008 7:20 pm
Valyrr took note of the mage's name and committed it to memory. It would do him no harm to know her name, and it may even prove beneficial, though that remained to be seen. As she had not struck against him yet, there was every possibility that she wouldn't be inclined to do so at any point, unless he provoked her. He would be careful to avoid doing that. She may even prove to be an ally, though he was not in the market for allies at present. Or enemies. Not that he was ever in the market for enemies.
"They do sound similar," he agreed. "As for your music, I hardly recognized it as music, at first. Not that you sing badly, but it is unlike most music one hears in the Underdark. Mostly we hear tavern bawds. It was...compelling." He was reluctant to say more on the subject of her music because compelling summed it up perfectly, and further conversation would mar his intention.
"I am from Llurth Dreir, yes. My House is fairly centrally located, for all that we do not have a seat on the ruling council. And, as you said, it is not a place which encourages music, really. Some other noble Houses keep minstrels to write odes to the glory of their Matrons, but Baen'duis is not one of them. We are not generally appreciative of music."
He was making little sense, but he felt that she wanted him to keep talking, and so he tried to do what would please her. He was an accomodating person, but he usually limited his willingness to please others to his own House. Problems tended to arise when people tried to please people outside their own House. But this did no harm that he could see. He was just talking, and he gave away no secrets in doing so.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Dec 05, 2008 11:03 am
At the beginning remarks he was giving her music her curiousity turned to dissapointment, but after he finished she had to think a moment. "Compelling?" she repeated. Others had complimented her voice, complimented her songs, and some had cursed the, as well. But this was the first time anyone had used a word like 'compelling'. Seeing as he didn't appear to want to explain further she could only guess that he didn't know any way to other than that single word, which of course only made her want to know more of what he thought of her music.
As she had thought, he spoke of his House in Llurth Dreir, confirming her thoughts as to its aversion of song. If he was offering this kind of extension into conversation she figured she might as well speak to. After all, it would be rude to stand there silent while the other was made to ramble, though, she supposed rudeness would be considered normal.
Nonetheless she did not see why she should have to be rude when the other Drow was not, "House Piranor is one of those who keeps a bard to tell of its warriors' deeds, or at least, it used to. But yes, other than that small appreciation it is devoid of any other want to concern itself with music."
She heaved out a small sigh, knowing that it wasn't exactly the reason her mother had left the house, but it was one of the reasons Valin was glad she had. Other than her grand Matron and her newly rediscovered cousin, of whom she had yet to meet, their were no blood relatives or heirs for House Piranor. There was also Valin, who was technically the proper next Matron. But she wanted nothing to do with Matronism or the House.
Her attention returned to studying Valyrr, supposing that House Piranor had deteriorated enough so that he had probably not heard of it. Or, at least if he had, he probably did not remember it.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Dec 12, 2008 5:54 pm
He did not repeat himself. Any further attempt to define what had brought him to her would distort his meaning. He was well-educated for a male, but he knew he was not particularly intelligent or clever, and his vocabulary was what it was. Compelling was the word he had used, and it was the appropriate word.
He was relieved when she turned the discussion to the topic of her own House. He had heard of House Piranor, but not much, and not lately. What he had heard had been vague, and had been a familiar tale: a once-great House falling into ruin under poor leadership. He did not understand why some other House did not take it upon themselves and carry out the Goddess' will by destroying such Houses, as it was clear that they could not be in Her favor if she had allowed them to slip so far down the ranks, but he was only a male, and his thoughts were neither wise nor deep.
"It wouldn't be a bad thing to have a bard singing of my deeds," Val said with an easy smile. "I'd have to do a few deeds first, though, or the poor creature would be forced to embellish."
In truth, Val was a very impressive warrior, and his rise through the ranks at his training school had been nothing short of meteoric after his early years, but his upbringing had conditioned him to be modest and self-effacing. He acknowledged that he was good, but he was always willing to belittle his own abilities, or attribute his skill to the fine instruction he had received or the fortunate circumstances of his parentage. It had nothing to do with him, personally, he was always quick to assure people.
"Did you learn your own musical talent from your House's troubador?" he asked.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jan 06, 2009 6:05 pm
Personally, Valin might have agreed with his thoughts about the destruction of her House. But she would have preferred the destruction of all Houses. Not that she would ever say such things out loud, that would be attempting suicide in this world.
Valin arched a brow, trying to keep up her end of the conversation without really knowing how to do so. "I'm sure you've done some deeds worthy of a bard's praise," she said, "And I wouldn't underestimate a bard's ability to embellish, it's part of their job description." Hoping that didn't sound as awkward as she thought it did, she distracted herself by reaching a hand up to tuck her hair behind her ears, though it didn't really need it.
Her other hand reached for the empty sheath at her waist again, but she was too distracted by trying to converse to really notice it. "No, my mother and I left the House when we were young and lived on the outskirts of Llurth Dreir until she was killed," Valin said, belatedly wondering if she should have admitted to another that she had not stayed in her House.
She didn't care for Houses, and only kept her own for the sake of her name, which she would have no need to do after se had retreived her sword. Deciding that it was too late to do anything about she added, hoping to assuade the subject to a new direction, "I learned from a merchant at the ports. He showed me a violin and taught me how to read music."
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jan 06, 2009 7:25 pm
Val neither blushed nor preened when Valin suggested that he might have performed some praise-worthy deeds. It wasn't impossible, of course, but he was really quite young and hadn't enough life experiences to do anything particularly valorous. Shri had liked to make wordplays on the word valor and his name, Valyrr. He smiled thinking about that. Valin would probably interpret the smile as being directed at her, but that wasn't such a bad thing. It was always better for females not to be angry at him.
"Thank you," he said. He was already smiling, but if he hadn't been, he would have accompanied his words with a smile.
He noticed that her hand strayed toward a sheath, but when he saw that it was empty he wasn't concerned. She wasn't going to smite him with an empty sheath. That, too, made him smile, though he quickly banished the expression when she mentioned her mother's untimely death. He and his mother weren't close, but he couldn't imagine what he'd do if she was killed. Seek revenge, of course, but she was the guiding force in his House, even though she wasn't the Matron, and without her, he sincerely doubted the House would continue to function smoothly.
"I'm sorry to hear about your mother. But it must have been exciting to live outside of a House - when it wasn't terrifying and difficult."
He had no idea what a violin was, or how someone would read music. Music was something one heard, and reading was something one did with their eyes. The two senses couldn't possibly overlap. Well. He knew that some drow could "read" magic, the same way that they read heat signatures, and they claimed to see it, but then they'd say it wasn't really like seeing, but seeing was the closest thing. Maybe she could "see" music the same way. He didn't know it was a skill that could be taught.
"What's a violin?" he asked.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jan 06, 2009 7:52 pm
She was releived when he didn't have any adverse response to her words on his possible deeds, but confused when he later smiled. Shrugging the belated reaction aside, she tried to answer his smile with one of her own, failing utterly in the attempt and managing only to look as if her doe eyes would close and she would fall asleep at any minute.
Her gaze followed his own and she saw her hand gripping the sheath. She quickly cleared her throat and released the object, waving a hand at his apparent sympathy regarding her mother's death. "It happened long ago, I don't intend to dwell on it," she replied, clearly lying through her teeth. Her main purpose in life at the moment was to avenge her mother and retreive the sword that held her name, not that she would say such a thing to this stoic seeming Drow in front of her.
She moved on to reply to his next comment, "It was, I suppose, and still is. After living with the terror and hardships for so long you begin to see them as dull everyday life."
Not that she had stayed in the cities long enough to discover all of what those hardships were after her mother's death. They hadn't gone to the busy parts often, only to visit the marketplace and the swordsmith. She frowned at the memor of the swordsmith's, the image of Tarien's calm smile and big gentle eyes flashing breifly in her mind, reminding her of something that she couldn't exactly place.
Her eyes flew wide open again at his question about the violin, unsure exactly how she could answer it. "Well," she thought back to the encounter, bringing her arms up to imitate how the instrument was held, "It was made of wood and had strings stretched over it, like a mandolin, only it had another long peice of wood with hair stretched between it that was run over the strings to make the sound instead of pluckng at them with your fingers. With the, I think it was called a bow, for some reason or other, you could sustain the sound for longer and make a more relaxed and soft or hard and rough or any variety of differences in tone than you could ever do with a mandolin."
That was all she could say for the moment, as she had been told that it would be too difficult to learn in the amount of time that the merchant would remain in the port. So instead she had settled for learning to read the music and had not seen nor heard the violin since.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jan 07, 2009 1:01 pm
"You're probably right. A person can get accustomed to anything. I'm used to people trying to kill me, or at least maim me, so I suppose it's possible to become used to unpredictability, too."
Val's brow furrowed as he tried to imagine this instrument. He had only a vague idea of what a mandolin was, since his House was not musical at all, and most of the music he was familiar with was the sort that was sung with only percussive accompaniment, such as beating on a table or tambour. He knew mandolins were wooden and shaped like a bowl with a long handle and there were gut strings pulled taut across and which someone strummed with the fingertips. He couldn't figure out how drawing a hair across the strings would produce any sound at all.
"It sounds very complicated, and very fragile."
Wood was difficult to come by in the Underdark, and he couldn't imagine that a merchant who possessed such an oddity wouldn't guard it jealously, but how would he find someone to repair it if something did go awry? Would he have to go Above to find someone with the skill? He was fairly certain that Adin might be able to tell him something about such instruments, but maybe not. After all, surface raiders were rarely told to bring back musical instruments. Not when there were more valuable objects to be gleaned on the surface.
This conversation was one of the stranger ones Val had had in recent memory. He guessed that was what came from surprising someone who had not thought to be disturbed. Two someones, if he was to be fair. He hadn't expected to meet another while walking along the shore any more than Valin had. He should probably excuse himself and allow her to return to whatever she was doing before he happened upon her.
But that was not what he did when he opened his mouth. Instead he asked, "Why do you wear an empty sheath?"
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jan 07, 2009 1:58 pm
"I think it was," Valin said, referring to the instrument, "He kept it in a huge watertight wooden box, I don't know how he carried it around, but apparently he was good at dealing with surface-dwellers' trade, so the ship let him keep it to keep him on board." She didn't know either how the hair made the violin sound, but she had seen and heard it herself.
Not one to be part of many conversations Valin could tell it was strange, but she didn't know how strange it might be. Although she had been enjoying her walk, and her song, this conversation was proving interesting to her. She did not want to stop just yet, though she assumed Valyrr had been walking towards a purpose and she should let him be on his way.
The question about her sheath threw her off guard, mainly because she should have been expecting it but wasn't. It was connected to a scene she had repeated in her mind many times since it had occurred. But it was not a pleasant scene, one she did not like sharing with people, though the story of the sheath could be told without it.
She cleared her throat and wiped away the look of uncertainty that had stolen up on her face, "It is part of a family heirloom, passed down through the Matrons of House Piranor. The sword it belongs to is the real heirloom, but it was... Stolen from my mother when I was young. It is my duty to find and retreive it and restore my family's name to her and myself."
Not adding in that the theft of the sword and her mother's death was intertwined, or that she and her mother had had the sword when they left the House, she was trying to create a fill in the gap version that might lead the listener to a much more plausible story than the one that had actually occurred.
It would make sense for her Mother to leave the House if she had lost the sword, and that the task should fall to Valin afer her mother's death. It made less sense that her mother would leave the House to avoid being called to the duties of Matronage and raise her daughter under secret teachings that were supposedly forbidden. Supposedly because her mother had never revealed to Valin where exactly these teachings had come from, only that she should be wary of how she spoke of them. And that Valin was after the sword more to avenge her mother and Tarien's murder and reinstate their name rather than House.
Valin was not always so wary when coming across random thugs and vagabonds, but when faced with a warrior who most likely had the means to overcome her mists and bring her in for questioning of some sort with the goddess Lloth, she wanted to be a little more careful.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jan 07, 2009 5:07 pm
Val realized at once that his question had been unadvised. He'd had no way of knowing when he asked, of course, but from her expression and the deliberate care Valin took in preparing herself to speak on the subject, it was evident that it was not an easy thing for her to discuss. He guessed that what she decided to reveal to him in the end was a much-edited version of the true occurances surrounding the missing weapon.
The story itself wasn't all that unusual. An heirloom lost and a daughter of the House charged with its recovery to restory honor and glory and all those other things Houses seemed never to have enough of. Val didn't know exactly what Valin's position was in her House, but it seemed likely that she was one of several females, and interested in reclaiming the sword to elevate her own status within her House. At least, it would have seemed likely if she had seemed to be that interested in committing typically Drow acts, but she'd already demonstrated that she was atypical. He didn't know of any typical drow who sang. Mist-conjuring was not an ability he was specifically familiar with, as he was not familiar with magecraft in general, but he found it less disturbing overall than her musical inclinations. That seemed much more like something a surface elf would do.
"How goes your quest?" he asked.
It was more a matter of being polite to ask than actual interest. If he had learned one thing in his life, it was that one ought never to evince too much interest in anything, else one could find oneself enlisted to assist. For some things that wasn't such an issue. For example, the kitchen staff in Baen'duis Manor didn't mind if he asked after how meal preparations proceeded, and though they would occasionally put him to work if he spent too much time there, his efforts were usually rewarded with food. While he wasn't the growing youth he had been, capable of shoveling pounds of food down his gullet in a day, Val still appreciated a full meal. There were other instances, however, where he had shown too much interest in what one of his siblings or cousins was doing and it had ended up in long, dangerous quests which often proved pointless from the outset and tended to get him in trouble. With Valin, he simply had no interest in embroiling himself in the politics of a family as low as House Piranor was without a very good reason.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jan 08, 2009 9:19 pm
Valin had cast her gaze to watch the nearby waters of the Glimmersea ripple along the shore, the anger that was reheating in her eyes over the matter of her sword, disobeying her command to retreat to the back of her mind. It didn't want to be let out later, it wanted out now. Her eyes were staring blankly after a moment, the image of her mother's face contrasting everything she had beleived her to be taking over her sight, making her blink when she realized Valyrr had asked her a question.
"How goes it?" she repeated, her words coming out much sharper than she wanted them to at the same time her enraged eyes flicked from their stare to glare at the warrior. A deep breath, after closing her eyes for a few seconds to calm herself, and she forced an apologetic smile towards Valyrr, "I'm afraid it does not go very well."
Her mother's murderer was still at large and she had no leads whatsoever to go on yet. She had learned how to identify theive's shops and see what kind of wares might lead her to her sword, but after a few weeks of searching through three different marketplaces she was finding the task much more difficult than she had imagined in her head. It was even, and actually far more likely otherwise she would have gone to the marketplaces sooner, that the sword was not in any marketplace at all, instead tucked away by the murderer himself to hide what he had done or to simply be in his possession.
She sighed, wanting to change the subject to something lighter and easier to speak about. "Are you currently engaged in any quests?" she asked, belatedly wondering if that would remind him of where he had been going. Well, if it did, then she would just have to let him leave and go back to her own walk, though she would like to return to it in a happier mood rather trapped with the black thoughts of her mother that were currently clawing at her mind.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|