Just Prowling...

[BaravarImrathiln]

Baravar curses as Malek is twisted away, and the female pulls close. The spell would take them both, but the proximity meant that instead of taking Baravar and Malek, it would instead take Baravar and Iymlin.

Baravar was unusually large for a Drow male, much closer to the height and weight of a Moon Elf. But the extra size wouldn't make much difference under the circumstances. It's hard to change directions while flying through the air.

So there is a flash of brilliant white light as both Baravar and Iymlin disappear from the alleyway of Menzoberranzan. Another flash heralds their arrival into a wide vault with many exits. Baravar, knowing what was coming, hits the ground rolling, his small hand crossbow clattering away, discarded for now. He rises to his feet on the stone floor two fathoms (12 feet) from his new assailant. During the roll, he'd managed to draw both of his long, slightly curved swords. They weren't truly scimitars, and they were clearly not of Drow workmanship, inscribed as they were with draconic runes.

"Far from your deity's vile reach, Priestess. There is little escape from this place. There are six passages here. Only one leads back toward the Underdark. Of the others, two reach the surface in less than a half-day's walk. The rest, well, they don't lead anywhere you want to go."

[Priestess Iymlin]

[color=darkblue:3o6m47um] --A triumphant smile teased at the lips of Iymlin at her apparent triumph for her allied company. Her head skewed downward faintly as Baravar was enticed nearer to her, those beguiling eyes assaulting his character. As Malek coiled away from her evident grasp, she would bring that silken hand about to attempt to caress the features of their rival. A slight gasp was whispered as she sensed a rather authoritative grasp encircle her elbow. Iymlin abruptly halted her intentions. Malek seemed to present a simple taste of his prowess as Iymlin allowed her abstracted gaze to befall her irksome foe. Great displeasure, deeply embellished Iymlin’s perfect countenance, for she distinctly did not wish to conceal her current outlook--[/color:3o6m47um]

[color=darkred:3o6m47um] [i:3o6m47um] “Malek! You will unhand me at once! If you refuse me I will—“[/i:3o6m47um][/color:3o6m47um]

[color=darkblue:3o6m47um]--Iymlin’s infuriated words were cut short as she was besieged in the spiteful brilliance of light. A mixture of bewilderment and wonder seized her person as she was distinctly transported to somewhere anonymous. Her eyes widened in alarm as she experienced a tough collision with stone, a faint wail of astonishment escaped her as the attachment between her and the portal was broken. Due to the immense haste that Iymlin had been traveling, the contact caused her to tumble upon her knees. Pain strained its path through her sensitive muscles, though Iymlin disregarded its pushiness. Iymlin stayed to her position as Baravar retreated from her side, gazing off into the vastness of this baffling crypt. Leisurely her stare scrutinized the peculiar entryways arranged about the cellar, each one depicting the last, in symmetry and design. Then those cruel, yet tempting eyes restored their delight upon Baravar.--[/color:3o6m47um]

[color=darkblue:3o6m47um]--Her lips folded back into a snarl as she perceived the worthless individual before her [i:3o6m47um]‘You fool! Where, have you taken me?’[/i:3o6m47um] rapidly the expression her features seized settled into loveliness once more. So swiftly, her resentment could not have been noticed. Iymlin climbed to her feet to stand in her conceited poise, as she fixed her attire. Iymlin took note that he had drawn out two swords of a foreboding nature. However, despite of his apparent command of the situation, Iymlin was a rebellious one, and refused to succumb to his methods. Her eyes burned with a tawny blaze, as she linked his wicked glare to her own. Despite, this disposition Iymlin saw him as a confident male and desired to test his intrepid nature further. The laughter of scorn fell from her lips as she spoke briefly.--[/color:3o6m47um]

[color=darkred:3o6m47um][i:3o6m47um] “Well, well. You are the clever one aren’t you? Was this your intention, my lovely drow, to bring our betrayer, Malek here for his underserved liberty? Well, I must apologize for ruining your foolish plans. I take it you are an ‘Eilistraeen Worshipper.’ How dare you plague the streets of ‘Menzoberranzan’ in that manner. And as for my beloved ‘Lolth’s’ widespread power, her glory is all around. Do not fret, she is with me now…Tell me, what is your namesake? I am curious to know who my foe is, and I demand that you tell me where exactly have you taken me?[/i:3o6m47um][/color:3o6m47um]

[color=darkblue:3o6m47um] --Iymlin made leisure movements as she spoke, her direct path was vague. Her amber orbs never parting Baravar’s stare, in attempt to convince him to keep to her hypnotic gaze.- -[/color:3o6m47um]

[BaravarImrathiln]

Baravar smiles grimly at this priestess as they circle in the gallery of doors. He hadn't expected anything less from a Priestess of any deity, but this was almost a disappointing level of outrage from one of Lolth's fanatical followers. Indeed, he had rather expected her to attempt to blast him as soon as she'd recovered from the initial disorientation. But she hadn't. He could read the contempt in her face, in her tone, no matter how leisurely she tried to be about things. She was still Lolthar. Her robes and talismans were clear about that, and no Lolthar truly understood leisure. Seduction, he knew, they understood all to well. But he was proof against her looks.

Baravar's handsome face crinkles a little at the edges with a wry, cunning smile. She was no longer in Menzoberranzan. Her soldiers were far away, and it was unlikely that she would waste the energy or the 'favour' of her Goddess that would be required to summon an ally from the depths of the infernal planes. In a single instant, his amulet, a gift from his lord, had turned the tide of things to his advantage. He knew where he was. She did not know where she was. Nor would she know how to get home from this hidden sanctuary.

“I am Baravar Imrathiln, Ranger of Eireann, Platinum Knight, and Weaponmaster of House Banba.” He keeps his distance from the Priestess. He was an experienced Ranger, and a weaponmaster. He knew how to keep his distance, no matter how cleverly she used her eyes and form to attempt to distract him. His smile grows in his mind, remembering days long past, during his training to join the Rangers of Eireann. Her motion was not unlike the sinuous, smooth motions of a Dragon. But even Dragons were a foe familiar to Baravar.

“I have taken you to a Place of Testing." He smiles again. “You may attempt to kill me if you wish, Priestess. But no direction-finding spells will work here. No magic will aid you in finding a way out. But [i:4tdfpex6]I[/i:4tdfpex6] know the pathways from this place, both toward the Light, and back toward the Darkness. Destroy me and you will have to risk a blind guess. Even your Mistress is blind to this place, thanks to the intercession of the Deities represented in the sigils beneath you.” The Ranger speaks another command word, and a single, bright-white light flares into being on the ceiling, a single stalactite hanging down from the centre of the vaulted ceiling, revealing the room in all its smooth, polished glory. The doorways remain the same, black arches opening on oblivion, but the floor glitters with gold and gems, inlaid into the symbols of many deities, all surrounding the shape of the Dancing Maiden in the centre of the floor, rendered in obsidian and silver.

“Now [i:4tdfpex6]you[/i:4tdfpex6] face the Test, Priestess. Kill me, if you think you can, and take your chances with Blind Luck. The other options, so you may hear them and choose knowingly, are thus: Throw down your weapons, and I will tell you which doorway leads back into your darkness; or you may renounce your vile goddess, and follow me in peace into your rightful place in the Lands Above, to live beneath the sun once more.”

((OOC: Edited a couple of times to add missing punctuation))

[Vasriina Frerahel]

oOC.: (My post is rather long isn't it? Well, due to my longer absence I thought I should catch up on ALL the posts that dealt with Vasriina all at once, and continue the evolution of things. Sorry again for my absence! )

[color=olive:2h3hptli]+Vasriina’s intentions were momentarily abstracted from Malek, while the incompetence dribbled slickly from the tongue of this eccentric beast of a man. The creature remained near her and her sentinel, Xion, as the fiend uncomfortably gawked at her guise particularly. Vasriina’s emerald gaze coupled with the outsider’s and within she perceived the grotesque yearning building itself. She would soon impart him slight interest, as her satirical eyes rolled in their sockets. His vocabulary failed to make her cringe in repulsion, for she cruelly labeled him an obtuse of drow society. Because Vasriina lingered astray in her annoyance, she was briefly taken aback as the stern grasp of Xion impressed upon her slender arm. This action would fetch her back into reality.+[/color:2h3hptli]

[color=olive:2h3hptli]+Xion’s stature held such enormity, as Vasriina tucked within the crook of his arm she retained similar appearances to a youth. Her corporeal features softened due to Xion’s protective deference for her. Trust, a word that Vasriina significantly lacked with the relationship linking her and renowned warrior, Xion. Yet, it was customary in most Drow societies to go without this sentiment, for Drow trust no one and nothing. In their race’s mindset, there is little room for friendship for their overly suspicious natures keep these relations at bay. However, there was profound reverence. Vasriina’s head tilted upward slightly in curiosity, as Xion snatched an inquiring object from the air, she sensed that the projectile’s promises were destined for her.+[/color:2h3hptli]

[color=olive:2h3hptli]+ Vasriina cocked her brow slightly inquiring this message’s intentions, to where it may have been produced, and what fool of person endeavored this mission. [i:2h3hptli] ‘Hmm. Asking for trouble?’[/i:2h3hptli] the venomous thought wafted through her mind. Her infamous smile delineated her lips, once more.+[/color:2h3hptli]

[i:2h3hptli] “My lovely, Xion. You should know of all that I am a priestess of profound reckoning, no? If I did not possess such individuality, I would be valueless to you. So, naturally bold behaviors from anonymous fools carry out daily for my attentions. They will be redundant tasks for, you. As for other priestesses being renowned as myself, well, my sister, Iymlin, just might be as socially noted. She is always watching. Tell me, what is the message that you carry?”[/i:2h3hptli]

[color=olive:2h3hptli]+Vasriina glided away from the former annoyance, parting him in her trail. Her step was dignified as Vasriina made her way about Xion, circling to seize Malek in her interest once further. Yet , movements of incomprehensible speeds obscured her peripheral vision. She shifted to an upward poise as she twisted gradually to comprehend the figures heading towards them. Immediately Vasriina recognized second-born, Iymlin, but the other held anonymity. They appeared to be in pursuit for something or [i:2h3hptli]somebody [/i:2h3hptli], swiftly her attention shifted behind her. [i:2h3hptli]Malek![/i:2h3hptli] The stranger made a move for his weapon, a crossbow, his aim was rather accurate. Vasriina’s mesmeric blaze rested upon the newcomer’s features delighting them with her stare.+[/color:2h3hptli]

[color=olive:2h3hptli]+The whole incident seemed to transpire in slow motion. Vasriina continued to her ground, as he was so near, her countenance lacking sentiments of fright at the notion of being possibly shot. Vasriina’s silken tresses wafted delicately in accompany to the fresh breeze created by the trespasser. Those inducing locks cuddled her unearthly features, giving her entreaty a further mood of a true commanding beauty. As Xion hand enthused to deflect Baravar’s attack, Vasriina cocked her brow faintly in a surprised, yet complimentary way. Iymlin, had accomplished her mission of thwarting Malek’s flee, however Vasriina discerned the peculiar radiance surrounding Baravar’s amulet, and Iymlin's apparent grasp upon his arm. Realization hit her quickly [i:2h3hptli]A CHARM![/i:2h3hptli], this accessory could only convey something dire for them. +[/color:2h3hptli]

[color=olive:2h3hptli]+Vasriina reached for Iymlin. Then both were departed. Vasriina bowed her head slightly while casting her severe, emerald gaze to the ground before her, aggravated at Iymlin’s unwanted vanishing. She fidgeted, as she shifted her weight. Vasriina’s lashes gently closed as she uttered her request. Her terms were hushed, so silent, even she held uncertainty to the fact she may have spoken. A fiery splendor encompassed her body with her livid disposition, only to emphasize her corporeal loveliness more. [i:2h3hptli] ‘My goddess Lolth. Wherever my sister, Iymlin may be. My indisputable power shall reach her. I provide you my might to accompany, Lolth’s boundless supremacy in search of her and instill Iymlin with the necessary powers to suppress her enemy…’[/i:2h3hptli] slowly her eyes lightened.+[/color:2h3hptli]

[color=olive:2h3hptli]+Lifting her head gradually, lacking any forewarning she twisted quickly to confront Malek, her slender fingers tapering their grip about the handle of her present blade. Vasriina’s stare accused him. With her liberated hand she elevated her index finger before Malek’s chiseled features, her voice held severe authority, yet lustful promises. She held herself assertively, as her composure was restored. She merely crossed her lean arms before her, anticipating his responses.+[/color:2h3hptli]

[i:2h3hptli]"“Malek! You are wearing my patience thin, my dear. I no longer care about your preceding with that worthless ‘Eilistraeen Worshipper’ from before. I will let the OTHERS take care of you, and hope they are more genteel to you, than I was. For I consider they won’t be. Now, tell me. Who was that character that stole my sister, Iymlin, away? His objectives were for you, therefore you must know him. Answer wisely, my dear, Malek. For I will not tolerate your lies, and you better pray to ‘Lolth’ he returns for you in accompany with my sister, or you will meet some unpromising events later.”[/i:2h3hptli]

[Malek]

Malek, upset by that he had been unable to execute his plan, scowled at Vasriina for a long moment. Upon hearing her questioning, he looked around, especially at Xion, hoping to find another distraction. As her rant continued, he noticed a guard not far off. He focused on him for a moment, for he did not seem...normal.

The mention of Lolth brought Malek back to his current predicament. Sighing and shaking his head, he looked at Vasriina.

"Well, aren't you the typical drow, seeing conspiracy where there is random happenstance. You should, in fact, be thankful that he stole Iymlin away. Indeed, I am surprised you don't thank Lolth on bended knee for removing a potential threat to your rise in power." He toyed with the idea of explaining his plan, but he thought he would leave pretentious ranting to others, like Xion. Not that he seemed to be a man of many words. "I have no idea who that man is, or where your sister is. I don't care whether you believe me or not. I don't expect you to either."

Annoyed as he was, he was liable to say anything. To have them explode on him was, in fact, just what he wanted. He was as ready as he'd ever be.

"Pray, tell me, Vasriina. Why should I pray to Lolth anyways? What has she ever done for me? My fighting skills came as a result of endless practice and hard work. That is all that is truly mine to boast of. I care little for my house's standing in the community, or for my nobility. She certainly did not give you to me." He paused, and looked pointedly at the guard, contemplating him. Turning back, he said, "That is, of course, of no importance to me. Oh, do tell. What uncompromising events do you have in mind for an unlucky man like me who gambles his chance to escape with a mysterious figure in the shadows."

[Elrohir]

*********Back in the Glade on the surface*******

[color=indigo:230141cc]The Newest sister looked Frankly at The other Sister Left after Drathir and the rest left.

"Well kid looks like its up to you and me to get those Raiders. My Names Nailaa Straee' Ranger Sentinal of these woods and its underlying tunnels. If these Possible Raiders are bound for the surface then it would be my honor to dispatch them to the horrors of their spiderqueen."

Takeing a step back twords the woods

"You commin?" Said with a sparkeling smile from under the dark green hood.[/color:230141cc]

*****Back in the deepening dark of Menzoberanzzan*****

Events transpireing hath brought great detail to the intreague of the darkness of the web of eternal night.

[color=darkred:230141cc]The impetuiousness of this hosts shell brought uncomfort at such lack of real athority. His Soul lust calmed for the moments to come as he regained his composure from being within a mortals body. To the shadows the guard fell to his knees Clawing upon his face with his jagged finger nails. Amidst the blood that flowed like a rageing white rapid river. The blood such a precious thing in life. Thick and red supple with the airs oxygen and nitrogen compounds. The bload pooled forth from the now dying guard alone in darkness but so nere to those attempting escape to have it thwarted to an untimly dissaperance. *OOOOFFFF!!!!* The body fell with a thud and roled over an infernal scription carved the dying guards face. The blood tremored as if an unknown quake had given rise to the waves of blood that now lurched forward from the darkness. Pooling down about the feet of the Defiant badass of a priestess of Lloth. (Vasriina) [/color:230141cc]

(((((Vasriina would feel just a slight jolt of energy as an image of utmost terror from the pits of hell it self would flash for but an instant. Then all would return to normal as if she had just seen a vision of some sort.)))))))))))

[color=darkred:230141cc]Warm and cozy within the efiminin flesh of this particular Black Rose among The eleven red.

"Yes now this is nice. But we shall wait and see."

Maby it was to presumptious of Balthazar to think he had found a possible canidate for a permanent Host. There were after all such a deliquant *SP* amount of Hosts to "Try out" For now he waits in silence.[/color:230141cc]

[color=darkblue:230141cc]Being evaided so smoothly and with apparent disdane for offering a man a drink at the local pub.

"Well atleast i spurned him into action. Whats this..."

The calamity that occured upon that swift and close raced run for the enterage.

"Interesting."

He took up the chase but at a much slower pace Reaching within one of his many pockets he took out a pair of dark lenzed goggles. Straping them to his face. but not over his eyes just yet. He reached within his pocket as he veered from the running pairs coarse. Takeing a wider arc to be comeing in from the exposed back flank of Xion. after deflecting the comeing bolts from The chargeing ranger and Priestess. Reaching within his bag o tricks. He hurled two hand fulls of pebble like rocks into the air. Shifting once more into his ethreal state. Speading his pace now his target singled out in to the predators stare. Pulling down the goggles just as the first few of the pebbles rain down upon the group.[/color:230141cc]

The pebbles are a combination of thunder stones and Bright flash and light stones. Upon contact with the ground they release there magic in a torrent much like that of a rageing lightning/thunder storm. It was amidst the chaos and torment of the rageing lights (This all occurs just after Imlyn and Baravir gate out of the area.) That L'Venorik struck just an instant he returned to his corpreal form to plunge forth a vile and wickedly curved black dagger blade His aim was the inner back thy of Xion just under the chink in the plate that would lead to the chain beneith.

(here in this instant just before the strike is compleate i end my turn. The Dagger ill describe in ooc:)

[Priestess Iymlin]

oOC.: (Eep! This is a really crappy post. Though, I guess it will do. I apologize. There will be edits here and there, so look out for them. If I need to edit ANYTHING, let me know. Kay? )

[color=darkblue:in97xoq1]--Iymlin halted in mid-step as she noticed Baravar keeping in rhythm with her own movements. She positioned herself askance, gifting only sight to half of her features, as she crossed her arms delicately before her. Her posture continued to be dignified, her sharp chin elevated, as that composed voice stroked at her ears. Quickly, her expression of delight vanished and was traded with envy due to his vigorous stature and confidence. Iymlin stayed to her position as Baravar enchants for illumination. The luminosity happily revealed the clandestine beauty that darkness possessively kept. Hurriedly, Iymlin twisted around to merely allow vision of her bitter shoulder. At this moment, he continued to converse with Iymlin. Yet, his words fell adrift on their path to her. Iymlin did not long to heed his voice, tuning him out. Instead, her gaze drifted to the outline of charms of splendid inquisitiveness materializing alongside her person. She cocked her brow in interest, like all Drow surrounding oneself with lavishes was not wanton. A scornful yawn escaped those silky lips, she did not bother to stifle it.--[/color:in97xoq1]

[color=darkred:in97xoq1][i:in97xoq1]“Well, well Baravar Imrathiln, Ranger of Eireann and so on…a simple forename would have sufficed. I care not of your lineage or mastered talents. You have turned your back on ‘Lolth’, why would I care about your history, of all persons? Besides, you would be wise as not to underestimate my goddess’s strengths, especially of my sister, a privileged one of ‘Lolth’s children’. Whom, I must say is climbing the ranks of power ever so rapidly, although in truth it should be, me.”[/i:in97xoq1][/color:in97xoq1]

[color=darkblue:in97xoq1]-- Yet, nevertheless Iymlin appeared disinterested in Baravar, his unyielding words minced at her being, each one infuriating her more than the previous. Iymlin rebuffed with great strength, to bestow the satisfaction to Baravar of her annoyance. Her delicate hands clasped firmly. Gazing off into the vastness of the vault rage distorted her vision, all else fell into void. Her chest quivered with fury, but quickly she would reclaim her composure. She swiftly whirled to face Baravar, her recent endeavor. She shifted her weight amongst her legs and roughly positioned her lithe, slender fingers upon those curved hips. Iymlin’s features dropped into shadow, as her tawny eyes narrowed into perilous slits, to glare after Baraver. She would repay her debt to him in due time. Iymlan’s manners were entirely concealed, ability she was most experienced.--[/color:in97xoq1]

[color=darkred:in97xoq1][i:in97xoq1]“You present me with a rather difficult resolution, Baravar. Let’s see, attack and kill you, relinquish my weapons, or submit myself to your goddess’s teachings. I am presuming you think I will attack you…”[/i:in97xoq1][/color:in97xoq1]

[color=darkblue:in97xoq1]--Her lithe movements began once more. Imylin’s voice was enchantingly seductive, like venom caressing the skin tenderly to be a lovely fatality. Her thick lashes lifted to expose, an intense stare of amber. As she conversed with Baravar, her eyes lingered to shadow him. A shrewd smirk delighted its presence upon those plump lips, parting faintly to disclose carnal brilliance. She lifted her outstretched palm in front her lips, she slowly puckered them as if blowing a fatal kiss. Iymlin would use one of her racial traits,[url=http://drowcampaign.roleplaynexus.com/d ... l:in97xoq1]Light Blindness[/url:in97xoq1], to temporarily blind Baravar. Inhumanely, Iymlin would emerge beside him.--[/color:in97xoq1]

[Xion]

((Sorry for the wait. Long story short, my computer finally died completely, and it took me a while to talk my mother into using her computer.))

The shivering of movement once more, the tasteless and colorless waves of alteration in the air. Something was behind him, or better put, at Vasriina's left side. While she would speak to this blabbering fool of a male, Xion was seeming a bit focused into their conversation. His hand lowered from the deflective position and limping once more to his side. And his front still facing where the once swooping ranger had been before his instant disappearance, along with Iymlin.

As Vasriina had her small fanboys, Xion as well had the continuation of being something most warriors couldn't avert their eyes from. Most considered him a challenge just by his size alone, let alone the title. It was one of the many pesters of his title, a continuation of protecting what rights he earned from these ignorant children with sharp toys.

But this one was a bit different, the vibrations and currents of air that tingled along every sensitive hair was a signal of sight to his half Dragon blood he hid so well. Everything was colorless, and sightless to the eyes, but the brain could produce near perfected images of what the eyes didn't see. A dozen or so, maybe more small pebble like forms were tossed, most likely as a distraction and from Xion's back where one of the many stalking onlookers awaited. But the alteration, almost like an aura of air current, the ley lines connected their fate like little strings to the where abouts of their owner. This fool was going in for an attack, from behind no less, and as they always do.

It was unoriginal, they always ALWAYS went from behind. As if nobody was ever prepared in the underdark for being back stabbed, one may prove better to do it from the front in some cases. It was no offense to this warrior alone, but more or less the split thought of the moment that pondered in Xion's head about all warriors/assassins of this ones thinking pattern. Overrated and typical, do none consider a face to face challenge any form of surprise? If anything it could even catch another Drow off guard just long enough to take in the killing assassin strike. The very idea that you would be in front of them, and openly admitting it, a rare thing indeed.

All while this being was motioning to close the gap between himself, Xion, and the 'pebbles' that rained in his direction. Xion took no quick motion, but instead stepped his right foot back to turn about his upper body. His eyes glaring to the physical that the closing assassin occupied in the ethereal. The strings of fate all have giving away his position even if only temporarily from his scattered projectiles, Xion's teal hues would glare as if looking directly at the being. But in amusement, precognition of the offensive action of this so be assassin set in seconds before hand. A forewarning of his attempts locking into Xion's mind to better prepare him with ample, if not fractions of a second.

His graft eye, now a natural and awake was unlocked of is pooling positive energy to dispose of any ley line connections. It was the graft and cure of a beholder eye, manipulated of its size to fit a medium-sized humanoid's socket with the help of clerical and arcane magics. A grand size of 50ft. by 50ft anti-magic was centered from that very eyes view and towards the area of his oncoming attacker. Since Xion couldn't see him, and this being was neither in shadow or Astral, it left the Ethereal realm, and with that very eye, would remove the corporal shifting to do that precognitive attack. The would-be assassin would find himself trapped in the ethereal, at least for the time being and removed of his original plan of a sneak attack. It left no physical view, no coloration or distortion, vibration or exchange of manipulation. By all means, just as a Beholder with its central eye, this ability was now as natural as the ability to think, or in Xion's case, shapechange.

" [color=darkred:1s6w28ei]Vasriina, it seems we have even more company. It riddles me at how [i:1s6w28ei]Original[/i:1s6w28ei] they all are.[/color:1s6w28ei] " Hinting a spit of annoyance to gesture to the act of backstabbing that it seems took popularity to the ignorant.

As for the Priestess Iymlin, Xion already had a later plan to find her where-abouts due to his current protectee's possibly future asking. And Malek was being watched, whether he knew it or not. All things were planned, even to the slightest beyond the observing and constant special guests of this Underdark evening.

[BaravarImrathiln]

Baravar isn't fully taken in by her change of manner. Her eyes still betray her contempt for him, and he doesn't trust her as far as he can comfortably spit out a rat. He'd begun shifting before the flare of light, just a step backward from where he had been.

He changes directions with an odd, smoothly-executed turn of his hips, his torso, for the moment, facing his opponent. But if she'd planned to catch him where he had been, he wasn't there by the time she arrived. His eyes water a little with the pain of the flash, but blindness is not a problem for him. Weaponmaster and Ranger were more than enough combat experience to teach him not to rely solely on his eyes in combat. But his experience also teaches him other things.

His movement, rather than just being to the side, away from Iymlin, is also a spin-step toward her. The Ranger steps aside and forward, a slight spin in his body as he does. The spin brings both of his long, curved blades hissing through the exact spot he'd been standing in, and slicing through the space ahead of it.

His eyes would recover, but he was not an opponent to be taken lightly. Baravar's face is grim, his ears attuned to the space around them, his eyes closed for now, though the effects of the flash wear off quickly. For now, it seems sensible to keep his eyes closed. She was talkative, and she wasn't quite yet sure of her opponent. Better to seem weaker than he was for the time being, and that meant exaggerating the effects of the flash.

[Priestess Iymlin]

[color=darkblue:1m5tb3iq]- -As she endeavored forward, Iymlin’s eyes shut for just a moment to close off the intensity of her own attack. Her swift footsteps treaded softly upon the stone floor, she was slight in build, but her character was most fierce. Confidence etched itself across her heart as it spread throughout her body. Within moments, she arrived at her destination, though Baravar appeared to have eluded her once more. The wind speaks a whisper to Iymlin as its most treasured silence is broken. Faint sounds tickle away at her elongated ears as she catches Baravar’s fleeting steps along with the coarse movements of fabric. The hissing of cold steel as it murdered silence hinted to Iymlin of Baravar’s attack. Gradually, her thick lashes lifted as those amber eyes glide towards Baravar.- -[/color:1m5tb3iq]

[color=darkblue:1m5tb3iq]- -As if her movements were in slow motion, Iymlin crouched beneath the path of Baravar’s blades, with their foreboding nature. Her brow furrowed downward, as she bit her lower lip. Iymlin’s left leg would extend outward, while the other remained crouched, the heel of her shoe generated a rough sound as it scraped against the floor. With her acute reflexes, she would bring her ornamented staff upward to meet with Baravar’s curved blades. The ringlets about the pinnacle of her staff would clink with Iymlin’s actions. The powerful staff moved about Iymlin’s hands comfortably, it was a newer gift presented to her for a previous exploit by her ‘Matron’ whom was also her ‘Yathtallar.’[i:1m5tb3iq]’I will be sure to turn you into a Drider once I become talented enough in that spell…'[/i:1m5tb3iq] Iymlin’s scowled upward at Baravar, as she coupled her stare with his handsome features. Her tawny eyes held resentment yet with reverence. [/color:1m5tb3iq]

[Drathir murrpau]

[color=indigo:3e8sw2ej]The glade surrounding the portal well was wreathed in darkness. It was very nearly dawn & the moon was near to sliding over the horizon. In the darkness of the forest temple, Drathir slept. She slept as deeply as a drow could, though few drow ever truly slept. Drathir wasn’t surface born so reverie was her most used method of rest, but sleeping was something she had learned to do once she had given herself to the joy of Eilistraee. Sleep meant trust, trust was unheard of to the drow, all but a few practiced only reverie. Drathir could find peace and healing in true sleep, but being drow, she only rarely slept. After such a terrible ordeal in Menzoberranzan, her body had nearly screamed for the need of a healing sleep. So after carrying the body of her slain sister with Susparra, she had lain down & slept all night.

Sometimes, though, when Drathir slept, she dreamed visions. Or more correctly, she had more direct guidance from Eilistraee in strangely lucid but ethereal (& usually rather one-sided) conversations with the goddess in a place that might have closely resembled the middle of a pearl… and she could sometimes even see visions of future events and sometimes got clear visions of current events happening elsewhere. This was one such dream.

First she saw very clearly a Lolthian cleric with what appeared to be an earth elemental behind her – then her sight swung so that it felt as if she were jerked forcibly on a string to see along the lines of the cleric’s eyes, not through her eyes, mind you, just in line with her sight – and she saw Malek. Had she been in a less deep sleep, Drathir would have started awake. It was clear that the two knew one another, the Lolthian cleric & Malek. Drathir could hear absolutely nothing so she watched things unfold before her as if watching a play; the entrance of others did not surprise her, the sudden disappearance of two of them did. She continued to watch events until the vision quieted & lightened to pearlescence. Drathir felt the presence of her goddess then, and she smiled even in her sleep, listening quietly to the instructions given.
[/color:3e8sw2ej]

[Vasriina Frerahel]

[i:1n9ti9y9] “My Malek, you do posses a fool’s tongue indeed. Though, I do commend your audacity to speak to me in such ways, you, I am sure are erudite of the punishments that go for trading such words. However, I will reveal to you that I do not care of Iymlin’s current status, dead, alive, or on the brink. All I want to know of are her whereabouts. You see, her obedience to me is vital. Close to me is where she belongs, where she cannot fall far from my eye. I do concur, she is a threat, but a threat that I can deal with. Iymlin would never attempt to usurp my powers, it would be foolish for she would fall into disfavor of ‘Lolth’.”[/i:1n9ti9y9]

[color=olive:1n9ti9y9]+Vasriina’s next terms were hushed, so silent, even she held uncertainty to the fact she may have spoken. +[/color:1n9ti9y9]

[i:1n9ti9y9]“Well, I am no converter of the sorts, to each his own I suppose. Every action I take, MUST, serve a purpose for me. No greater outcome will come about for me or ‘House Frerahel’ if I spend my energies on you. Remember this, ‘Lolth’ will remember your treachery if you CHOOSE to disobey her and show her betrayal. Unless, you have already done these actions I have defined, Malek. Your renown has not surpassed you, my dear. You hold no army or powers that would further ‘House Frerahel.’ To further our reaches to the surface world, and illustrate them the might of the ‘Drow.’”[/i:1n9ti9y9]

[color=olive:1n9ti9y9]+Her next axiom would become even more inaudible, as she leaned closer to him to coddle his ears with her spiteful whispers.+[/color:1n9ti9y9]

[i:1n9ti9y9]“…if you had possessed such triumphs. You would have me, Malek. The scales would tip in your favor if you held one of ‘Lolth’s’ privileged ones. I am sure you would want me, no Malek? Imagine what could be done…Though, I do promise you, when the time comes to perform the most painful of punishments. And that is to turn you into a Drider. I will be there...my precious, Malek.”[/i:1n9ti9y9]

[color=olive:1n9ti9y9]+Quickly she would move away from him. The carnal intensity of her emerald fire burned away at the handsome features of Malek as a malicious giggle pushed itself from her lips. She would lift her delicate hand upward toward those inviting lips as if to hide that mocking smile. Vasriina was beginning to cross her slender arms before her chest, yet something anonymous caught her off guard. Her eyes widened in slight bewilderment, her brow furrowed slightly, as her head tilted back somewhat. Beads of sweat quietly made their appearance upon that unblemished forehead, as a bizarre force tremored throughout her body, like energy assuming a path through her veins. Vasriina’s eyes slid towards Xion. He appeared distracted to notice her current condition. Xion’s voice made its way towards her, his terms were heeded, yet they seemed echoed. And then it ended.+[/color:1n9ti9y9]

[Malek]

Malek waited through her tirade about Iymlin's loyalty, not surprised at all that she would deny caring, if she did at all. Malek was thoroughly surprised when she told him that he could have her again if he used his skills to further the goals of his race. To think that she still thought that was one of Malek's goals. He surpressed an urge to laugh in her face. That would most definitely have gotten him killed.

Throughout her speech he kept his eyes on the mysterious guard behind Vasriina and Xion. Then as she turned away, she seemed to...Malek didn't even know what was going on. However, seeing that Xion and Vasriina were paying attention to something else, Malek took off like a shot in the direction of the portal Drathir had been talking about. He hoped that nobody would try to stop him. For their sake, they had better not get in his way.

[Drathir murrpau]

[color=indigo:37img488]Drathir:
When she awakened, Drathir realized she’d slept in so she went into the forest temple & did daily chores. She cleaned the walls, the statues, the floors, anything to keep her hands & mind occupied. But menial chores didn’t keep her mind occupied, instead she found herself thinking furiously as she worked. Drathir went over the simple instructions imparted to her by Eilistraee: She was to wait at the temple & she would know when to go to the portal. Her heart pounded in her chest as she thought of the vision she’d seen, particularly when she thought of Malek. She knew better than to bother the guardians to ask whether or not Malek had ever come through the portal, she already KNEW he wasn’t in the glade. Her dream had shown her what had happened.

As a drow in the Underdark, she had been whipped mercilessly by her Matron mother for any such “visions.” Her mother had been clear that the only visions of worth were those bestowed by Lolth – any vision not in Lolth’s design was heresy. Yet Drathir had continuously dreamt of the surface world. She had seen trees & flowers, the sun shining and clouds & stars in the sky long before she had ever set foot on the surface. Drathir would have never ascended the ladder of rank in the Underdark; she was destined for the vicious altar of the spider queen & she knew it… worse still, so did her Matron mother. Drathir’s escape had been rare & fortuitous. It would be never or by direct order of Eilistraee before she set foot in her home city of Guallidurth again.

But now Malek took her focus. She had never felt this way before. She had become accustomed to laughing, singing, happiness, hugs among the surface drow who worshipped Eilistraee… but this was a new feeling entirely. She had no idea what to call it; she only knew that this feeling carried her far above any happiness she’d ever felt… and it also gave her far more anxiety than she’d ever felt as well. Drathir knew she had to keep her ability to focus & concentrate. It could be fatal if this lack of concentration got in her way when she was outside the temple. She sang a quiet and soothing song, the new holy symbol of Eilistraee hanging from her neck rocking in time against her chest while she rhythmically polished the inlaid patterned floor of the temple.[/color:37img488]

[color=green:37img488]Cyali:
Cyali was to go with the Sisters & the new arrival to hunt for any remaining driders in the forest. She frowned at the newly arrived ranger, what was her name again? Nailaa Straee? Cyali shook her head inwardly & said to Nailaa, “Lead the way, ranger.”

Suddenly Cyali felt a chill wind, & she looked about for the source. Seeing nothing but remembering the black shadow, Cyali shivered & drew her moon sword. She knew the holy aura that had filled the glen where they had fought the driders would last a bit, but unfortunately they were all going to have to leave the protection of that area. Cyali drew a deep, solid breath, her mouth set in a grim line, and was hardly surprised when another drider charged out of the bushes at them. She brought up her sword in a defensive position fully expecting attack, & noted that her Sisters rushed into a phalanx formation… but the drider surprised them all by shrieking incoherently as it rushed past them. Cyali blinked & considered going after it, but changed her mind & looked instead at the bushes from whence the drider had come… what in the Nine Hells could scare a drider into fleeing? For surely as they were the hell-spawn of Lolth, only something from the Abyss itself could frighten a drider so. Cyali stalked to the bushes & crouched as she pulled a branch aside – there was another cave entrance! The evil chill blasted at her from the cave & it seemed that the darkness was impossible to fathom, even for her drow eyes. Cyali shifted so that the branch was supported behind her & would not snap back to block the entrance again. Shading her eyes with her free hand, Cyali peered into the cave and felt something hit her shockingly hard in the stomach. She tried to call a warning to her Sisters but no sound came out… she felt something warm trickle down her belly & looked down in shock to see a black blade engaged deep in her abdomen. She watched in amazed horror as the blade slid out, her blood poured down it & her body, and felt herself, her soul, her being, wracked in torment, pulled by the blade.
[/color:37img488]

[BaravarImrathiln]

Baravar allows his swords to be deflected upward. As they shift, he steps to the side once more, finishing his spin. His eyes no long pained him, but he had had an idea during the first seconds of this conflict. His red eyes shift rapidly across the room, resting for a moment on the hand spinneret that had skittered away when they'd hit the floor.

As his eyes rest on the weapon, he whispers the command word for the light in the ceiling, plunging the Vault once more into inky blackness. A moment or two later, knowing that it will likely take Iymlin's eyes a moment longer to adjust after the bright glare of the light above, shifts his vision and replaces one of the swords in its scabbard.

In the place of the sword, he gathers a handful of small, ceramic pellets. Sauce for the goose, as they say. He pulls the cowl of his hood over his face, memorizing the layout of the room in the shadows and shades of the heat of the place, making Iymlin stand out in the darkness. Then, with a final tug on the cowl to shield his eyes, he rushes toward Iymlin, not the crossbow, hurling the ceramic pellets up-and-forward and in a flatline arc behind himself, forming a sort of cross pattern, with some of the flashes delayed slightly as the pellets spread across the room. Each pellet, as it strikes, shatters, releasing the light of the noonday sun, bathing the entire chamber in almost a hundred flares of sunlight.