Post by Olivius on Jul 24, 2006 22:10:56 GMT -5
Deilakrion strides into the tavern, expression muted as per usual. Her eyes dart about the tavern, however, noting patrons with a certain scowl. One, however, catches her eye and thus she glides forward, ignoring all else with a skill typical for the insane elf. She halts before Olivious. "This creature need speak to the flesh."
Olivius inclines his head, allowing his heavy eyes to meet those of Deilakrion. His vermilion lips part as verbose of his own rolls free of his ebon tongue, the soft articulate voice cuts through the stale tavern air, "What flesh do you speak of?"
Deilakrion startled from where she had sat by the door, shooting to her feet with alacrity. Once more she makes her way towards the man, frustration lowering her brows. "This creature need speak to the flesh." She repeated her previous words heavily, gesturing impatiently toward Olivius.
Olivius places a seemingly fragile hand on the bar, elevating himself to a poised position, now on his feet. His pallid features flushed as confusion taunts his sanity. A simple gesture of his hand accompanies his soft voice, "Lead the way."
Deilakrion lingers with brief trepidation, avoiding Olivius's gaze as she considers events of the past few days. She wrings her hands. "This creature showed the fierce hunter . . .the fierce hunter was. . .unbalanced. This creature lost the fierce hunter on the way, but this creature knows the fierce hunter wanted the flesh to see. The prey have gone too far this time."
Olivius allows the uneasiness of the current situation to shine through his hardened facade, his visage baring signs of morose. The hushed tone escaping him once more, "What ill fates have touched you?"
Deilakrion freezes, staring at Olivius. Ill temper rushes over her features, expression shifting from moment to moment. She remains silent for what must be minutes, then turns her back to Olivius, making for the door. "Follow." The word is curt and cool, her scrawny form passing to the street beyond without bothering to close the door.
Deilakrion stops abruptly, nose wrinkling at the stench of her find. The lands here, once barren and empty for miles, have become a graveyard. Recent battle had been fought here--and of the epic kind. Carcasses send skyward a horrible stench of death, clouding the sky with drawn vultures. Great clouds of flies stir as the group passes through, disturbing their feast. Vultures too hop back, glaring spitefully at the two. A fight, a battle has taken place here. The combatants? Dragons. What must be a score of the great creatures have fallen. She looks back at Olivius, expression quite wary. “This creature and the fierce hunter. . .were here, before. Come. . .” She wends her way around the dragons, head lowered as she stands before a group of nineteen beings—dragon riders. Each and every one has been staked on a crude spear through the stomach, their bodies halted in descent by the thickness of the spear. It must be a warning of some kind, else the poor souls would not be displayed thus. Deilakrion stares over the scene, face hard. “This creature. . .the fierce hunter. . .” She shakes her head, once more gesturing for the man to follow. This time she takes him to where a dragon was placed off by itself, no injury given to it but a cruel burned mark which must have been its demise. The mark is that of the Flaming Claw, and she points to it. “This creature lost the fierce hunter.” Her voice is hushed, and strained. “This creature. . .worries.”
Olivius franticly scans his surroundings, noticing even the earthen flesh below them has no pulse, worry invades his mind. "Why have you brought me to this cursed place?"
Deilakrion stares at the ground, jaw working. "This creature was following the fierce hunter to find the rest of the pack. This creature lost the fierce hunter. . .this creature doesn't know what the fierce hunter might do." Worry rarely glimpsed upon the insane elf's face plays havoc with her expressions. "The fierce hunter was. . .enraged." She swallows hard.
Olivius stands motionless, still in awe of the grotesque scene that meets his gaze no matter where it stops to rest. "These riders, they bare the Cabal's seal.. "Who is this hunter?" His tone now harsh, anger evident in his voice.
Deilakrion whips around, pacing until she stands not inches from Olivius. She does not touch him, but asserts herself aggressively. “-This- was not the work of a hunter. –This- is work of prey.” She snarled the words, glaring at him furiously. Then she steps back, somewhat calmer as she looks over the scene once more. She points to the sign of the Flaming Claw, burned deep into the dead dragon’s side. “That is the prey, same as when this creature broke the tower with the fierce hunter. The pack will seek vengeance from this. This creature merely hopes the fierce hunter has not gone alone.” She drags a hand through her matted hair, catching her fingers on the tangles.
Olivius pushes back the swelling in his eyes as he stares at the charred beast. They would pay atone for their actions, the grievances of his steed's brethren would be sought out by them both. "The hunter has followed the prey?"
Deilakrion crouched upon the ground, lips moving without sound. Finally she said in a small voice, “The fierce hunter. . .a creature does not know where the fierce hunter went.” She looked upwards then, trying to impress upon the other man the identity of ‘fierce hunter’. “The flesh should know the fierce hunter. . .the fierce hunter is the leader of the pack.” Her jaw clenches as she tugs at a clump of hair, knuckles white. “And this creature lost the fierce hunter. . .” Surprisingly, she chokes upon her words, hiding her face with her arms.
Olivius grasps onto the shoulders of Deilakrion, "Tenebrae? Lady Tene is missing?" His frail hands return to him after refraining from vigorously shaking the nude woman. "We must find her, there is no time to lose." The motion of a single finger beckons Naglfar to near. The opaque scales that garnish the magnificent beast glisten in the dim light. A chain adorning his mount's torso hangs loosely, the lycan constricts his digits around it, pulling on the massive links, his trident becomes exposed as it falls from Naglfar's back.
Deilakrion had been shocked into limpness by the pale man’s sudden movement, but as the dragon of the man ambles nearer she jumps backward, eyes narrowed to slits. “Do not—DO NOT—ever ever –ever- touch this creature!” The words are shrieked at the other, the elf heaving with unsteady breaths as she glares. She huddles into herself, trembling the slightest bit. “Do not.” The last muttered, posture defeated as she centers her stare somewhere towards the horizon. “The fierce hunter spoke of Cenril, such were headed in that direction when this creature was. . .was distracted,” and here she flushed, becoming sullen, “then the fierce hunter had gone. This creature couldn’t find the trail. Then this creature found the flesh.” She waits for the other's direction, hands clutching at opposite arms.
Olivius lowers his head in embarrasment, knowing full well he had made a mistake grabbing her. "We must find her at once, there is no time to waste."
Deilakrion nods, uncertainty overcoming her once more as she recalls her mistake. "This creature. . .lost the fierce hunter in the tall land." Breath hisses through her teeth as she looks skyward for inspiration. "Mountain. The mountain." Averting her eyes from the massacre, she begins to trot towards the mines.
Olivius inclines his head, allowing his heavy eyes to meet those of Deilakrion. His vermilion lips part as verbose of his own rolls free of his ebon tongue, the soft articulate voice cuts through the stale tavern air, "What flesh do you speak of?"
Deilakrion startled from where she had sat by the door, shooting to her feet with alacrity. Once more she makes her way towards the man, frustration lowering her brows. "This creature need speak to the flesh." She repeated her previous words heavily, gesturing impatiently toward Olivius.
Olivius places a seemingly fragile hand on the bar, elevating himself to a poised position, now on his feet. His pallid features flushed as confusion taunts his sanity. A simple gesture of his hand accompanies his soft voice, "Lead the way."
Deilakrion lingers with brief trepidation, avoiding Olivius's gaze as she considers events of the past few days. She wrings her hands. "This creature showed the fierce hunter . . .the fierce hunter was. . .unbalanced. This creature lost the fierce hunter on the way, but this creature knows the fierce hunter wanted the flesh to see. The prey have gone too far this time."
Olivius allows the uneasiness of the current situation to shine through his hardened facade, his visage baring signs of morose. The hushed tone escaping him once more, "What ill fates have touched you?"
Deilakrion freezes, staring at Olivius. Ill temper rushes over her features, expression shifting from moment to moment. She remains silent for what must be minutes, then turns her back to Olivius, making for the door. "Follow." The word is curt and cool, her scrawny form passing to the street beyond without bothering to close the door.
Deilakrion stops abruptly, nose wrinkling at the stench of her find. The lands here, once barren and empty for miles, have become a graveyard. Recent battle had been fought here--and of the epic kind. Carcasses send skyward a horrible stench of death, clouding the sky with drawn vultures. Great clouds of flies stir as the group passes through, disturbing their feast. Vultures too hop back, glaring spitefully at the two. A fight, a battle has taken place here. The combatants? Dragons. What must be a score of the great creatures have fallen. She looks back at Olivius, expression quite wary. “This creature and the fierce hunter. . .were here, before. Come. . .” She wends her way around the dragons, head lowered as she stands before a group of nineteen beings—dragon riders. Each and every one has been staked on a crude spear through the stomach, their bodies halted in descent by the thickness of the spear. It must be a warning of some kind, else the poor souls would not be displayed thus. Deilakrion stares over the scene, face hard. “This creature. . .the fierce hunter. . .” She shakes her head, once more gesturing for the man to follow. This time she takes him to where a dragon was placed off by itself, no injury given to it but a cruel burned mark which must have been its demise. The mark is that of the Flaming Claw, and she points to it. “This creature lost the fierce hunter.” Her voice is hushed, and strained. “This creature. . .worries.”
Olivius franticly scans his surroundings, noticing even the earthen flesh below them has no pulse, worry invades his mind. "Why have you brought me to this cursed place?"
Deilakrion stares at the ground, jaw working. "This creature was following the fierce hunter to find the rest of the pack. This creature lost the fierce hunter. . .this creature doesn't know what the fierce hunter might do." Worry rarely glimpsed upon the insane elf's face plays havoc with her expressions. "The fierce hunter was. . .enraged." She swallows hard.
Olivius stands motionless, still in awe of the grotesque scene that meets his gaze no matter where it stops to rest. "These riders, they bare the Cabal's seal.. "Who is this hunter?" His tone now harsh, anger evident in his voice.
Deilakrion whips around, pacing until she stands not inches from Olivius. She does not touch him, but asserts herself aggressively. “-This- was not the work of a hunter. –This- is work of prey.” She snarled the words, glaring at him furiously. Then she steps back, somewhat calmer as she looks over the scene once more. She points to the sign of the Flaming Claw, burned deep into the dead dragon’s side. “That is the prey, same as when this creature broke the tower with the fierce hunter. The pack will seek vengeance from this. This creature merely hopes the fierce hunter has not gone alone.” She drags a hand through her matted hair, catching her fingers on the tangles.
Olivius pushes back the swelling in his eyes as he stares at the charred beast. They would pay atone for their actions, the grievances of his steed's brethren would be sought out by them both. "The hunter has followed the prey?"
Deilakrion crouched upon the ground, lips moving without sound. Finally she said in a small voice, “The fierce hunter. . .a creature does not know where the fierce hunter went.” She looked upwards then, trying to impress upon the other man the identity of ‘fierce hunter’. “The flesh should know the fierce hunter. . .the fierce hunter is the leader of the pack.” Her jaw clenches as she tugs at a clump of hair, knuckles white. “And this creature lost the fierce hunter. . .” Surprisingly, she chokes upon her words, hiding her face with her arms.
Olivius grasps onto the shoulders of Deilakrion, "Tenebrae? Lady Tene is missing?" His frail hands return to him after refraining from vigorously shaking the nude woman. "We must find her, there is no time to lose." The motion of a single finger beckons Naglfar to near. The opaque scales that garnish the magnificent beast glisten in the dim light. A chain adorning his mount's torso hangs loosely, the lycan constricts his digits around it, pulling on the massive links, his trident becomes exposed as it falls from Naglfar's back.
Deilakrion had been shocked into limpness by the pale man’s sudden movement, but as the dragon of the man ambles nearer she jumps backward, eyes narrowed to slits. “Do not—DO NOT—ever ever –ever- touch this creature!” The words are shrieked at the other, the elf heaving with unsteady breaths as she glares. She huddles into herself, trembling the slightest bit. “Do not.” The last muttered, posture defeated as she centers her stare somewhere towards the horizon. “The fierce hunter spoke of Cenril, such were headed in that direction when this creature was. . .was distracted,” and here she flushed, becoming sullen, “then the fierce hunter had gone. This creature couldn’t find the trail. Then this creature found the flesh.” She waits for the other's direction, hands clutching at opposite arms.
Olivius lowers his head in embarrasment, knowing full well he had made a mistake grabbing her. "We must find her at once, there is no time to waste."
Deilakrion nods, uncertainty overcoming her once more as she recalls her mistake. "This creature. . .lost the fierce hunter in the tall land." Breath hisses through her teeth as she looks skyward for inspiration. "Mountain. The mountain." Averting her eyes from the massacre, she begins to trot towards the mines.