Post by Joliette Thorne on May 25, 2008 9:44:24 GMT -5
Thalion lofted a thin black eyebrow, watching a drunk stagger off, nursing a newly gifted lump on the side of his head. An excellent aim, no doubt, but rather unnecessary in the Elf's mind. He took a few bold steps toward the hooded figure, a woman he had already guessed by her stance, "My apologies, lady, but for what purpose do you terrorize the townsfolk here?" he asked, his voice radiating calm and authority.
Tenebrae had her arm raised, a flat stone pincered in her fingers, ready for the next inebriate who happened along. The approach of the stranger had her pause in the act, a startled look sideways possibly giving him a glimpse of chalk-white and delicate features in which were set two wide, peridot-green eyes that would not have been out of place on some feral cat cornered by a hound. "Hm?" The arm was lowered, canted out from her ribs though in case he needed an eye taken out. Her sword was uncomfortably missing from her latest ensemble. "I'm ... saving these men. From their evil ways, like." Figuring the jig was up in any case, she drew the hood back over her hair, the liquorice-strap black shine of it caught up at her nape with amethyst pins and gave the elf a look she hoped was frank. "Their .. drinkin' and wenchin'. Should be home, with their good wives this time o'morning."
Thalion had only guessed at the race of this young woman, however now realised that she may not in fact be young at all. Ever taken aback by the beauty of the children of Darkness, one which rivaled the Elves, he was doubly surprised by the sincerity of her action. He offered no threat to her at all, his own small dagger remaining in his boot and not thought of for the moment. With only the slightest look of curiosity, the High Elf asks, "Forgive me for interrupting your good intentions, my lady, but it intrigues me that a forsaken one should wish to save a small group of drunks. And in such an indirect way." he hoped that his subtle undertone of sarcasm was detectable, and let the Vampiress know that he had figured some ulterior motive.
Liana enters the square from the tavern, her soft green gown clinging to her legs as she moves. Crossing to the drunken fool, she reaches down, pulling him to his feet. With a gentle shove, she sends the man on his way, hoping that he will make it home safely. Turning to the others, she nods respectfully.
Thalion smiles kindly at the Elf maiden, ever pleased to see that good still thrives in the world.
Tenebrae 's lips pursed, infinitesimally, to evade the spread of the smirk that threatened to curl them and ruin all pretence. "I've a heart of gold, it's been said." And it had-- though the meaning of the actual words spoken had been quite different from the proverbial sense she conveyed so wryly now. "And I might equally ask why an Elf like yourself..," this said with a long-drawn glance from head to toe, that illustrated her acknowledgement of his status, betrayed by accent and stoic demeanour, "... might be wandering a common road at dawn, dressed not unlike a criminal."
Liana returns the smile with a gentle one of her own, her eyes scanning the high elf as she does so. "Well met," she says by way of greeting, her voice soft, yet carrying.
Tenebrae gave the elf a sharp look, ever chagrined at the capacity of others to nourish the weak. But a saccharine smile crossed her lips, anyway.
Liana returns the female's look with a penetrating gaze of her own. She does not like what she sees in those eyes, but her expression does not betray it.
Thalion thought of taking offence to this remark, however he was more than aware of his current appearance and was not altogether pleased with the look himself. Regardless, his sense of self-righteousness prevailed, "Not making a pest of myself, at least, lady." he replied with a scornful look, "I think it much worse that such a finely dressed woman as yourself should be found in such a common place and prey upon those who have little in the world." a sudden smirk grew on his face as he realised the juxtapose they both created in this little scene, "My own dress is merely misfortune. What excuse, I pray tell, do you have?"
Thalion turns from the Vampiress for a moment to properly greet the Elf maiden, "Mae Govannen, mellonin." he said gracefully in his native tongue, though all too aware that she was not of the noble blood.
Liana bridles at the insult, however veiled, to one of her race. Not wishing to intrude upon their conversation, she forces her demeanour to remain outwardly calm. Crossing, she leans against the trunk of a tall oak, her eyes still on the speakers.
Samael folded arms across his barrel chest, stopping short a few ways from the assembly.
Liana looks up, her smile now genuine. Extending a slim hand to him, she speaks. "Greetings, kinsman. May you always find shade and water." she is careful neither to abase herself, nor to sound too lofty.
Tenebrae slid that ice-tinged gaze the female's way, tiny hairs prickling the back of her neck. Turning it back upon the male, whose nobility was evident in comparison, she surmised the two were not, at least, of the same kin. Therefore, less likely to be hunting together. Her nostrils flared faintly as she sniffed, "Wouldn't do to advertise oneself as rich, in these parts. Never know what sort of scum are prowlin' the roads." The cloak was shrugged away from pale shoulders, the sun only just breaking past the hill not yet strong enough to pink the alabaster of her skin. "And I'm hardly preying on 'em." There'd be that glint again, a wild little shimmer that spoke of the hunger she'd yet to sate. "Like I said, merely discouraging their vice."
Thalion seems relieved that she decided to speak to him, despite his status and appearance, "And may light always find you in dark places, my lady." he replied warmly, "Forgive me whilst I speak for a moment."
Liana nods to the high elf, her pale skinned hand dropping to her side once more. Absently, she runs her other along the bark of the tree, not realising that, unconsciously, she checks its health. Her eyes return to the female, her gaze steady. She remains silent, watching the pair closely.
Thalion 's arms crossed very slowly over his chest and cast a cynical stare at the dark one, though his eyes were tormented by the near perfection of her skin and general complexion. Ever such a shame that such beauty should often accompany such evil and malice, though seemingly little of either he saw in Tenebrae, "Evidently," came the sardonic reply, "One would not stoop so low to drink of them, surely? Although you certainly seem threatened by the weak, should you need to keep any semblance of richness hidden away?" he remarked with an inner grin, the sting in his voice seeming to resonate a little.
Samael was carrying that stick of his, propped it over his shoulder where it now bobbed at a light rhythm. His lips played into a discreet half smile that stopped at his eyes. That oceanic gaze was serenely in focus.
Samael spoke out, raising his deep voice high enough to traverse the road, "Hello, Tenebrae," the morphemes of her name simplified to suit his poor grasp of common, "I see you many places."
Tenebrae 's glimmering irises dulled to a flatter expression, and it was the turn of one slender brow of her own to arc gently over its eye. "I am fussier, it's true." Not true. Not always. And recovering from the slight, at least in appearance, she straightened her spine a little and smiled, a dazzling expression that dripped ingenuity, and when she spoke her words spilled from her lips like a ripple of silk, in a carefully modulated, soothing tone. "And yes, perhaps, a little threatened. What lady would not be, by such ruffians?" Another look was fleetingly cast the female's way, as though she couldn't quite help it. "Thank goodness for stand-up gentlemen like yourself." Samael's presence was acknowledged with the slightest dip of chin, a hint of green peeking through dark lashes, before her attention returned to the stranger.
Tenebrae winced as her name was announced so, a weak smile being her response.
Liana gives no outward sign of the slight, other than a flash of anger in her gaze, quickly stilled. She turns her eyes upon the newcomer for an instant, before returning to her contemplation of the speakers. "Young though I may be," she thinks to herself in a pleased tone, "She cannot stir me to fury as she would have done a scant century before."
Thalion chuckled to himself a little, the grin still present and giving him a handsome, if slightly arrogant air. The arms also remained defiantly, not as a pretence of defence, but more of superiority that was ever present in his kind. He sighed inwardly and wondered if the vampire knew how many times seduction had not caught him out. Or at least not after the first few times. His disposition was resolute, "That is pleasing news. I would hate for these innocents to be terrorized any further than small pebbles," that stinging tone again, "Though I think you exaggerate the threat here. These people are not strong, nor skilled, most of them. They might benefit from your absence." he almost scolded, but kept his tone polite as far as possible, as she had done. The compliment had worked somewhat to charm him, as had the use of her other preternatural senses.
Samael nodded his head and made for a nearby tree, quickly stuffing his club into the band of loose-fitting trousers when he reached its base. The warrior was planning to climb, a fact made clear as soon as he widened his stance. His knees bent, arms extended toward the tree bark, and with the sounding of a momentous grunt, he vaulted some four feet up the tree's length before catching hold of its side and scrambling up the length to a strong branch. An easy swing of his arms and leg sent him over the top side of the sturdy perch, where he settled in comfortably.
Thalion turns his eyes to Liana for a moment and gives a very slight wink, the meaning of which is not apparent, but appears to be loaded with his own sense of 'high and mighty'.
Liana meets Thalion's gaze, but does no more than that, as she remembers his request to let him finish his conversation. She notes the ease with which the warrior scales the tree, and nods approvingly. From the corner of her eye, she sees a fight break out between a drunk and a newcomer. Resolutely, and perhaps a little sadly, she turns her eyes from it.
Tenebrae made small sound, a sigh so soft as to merely whisper across her chords, to emerge as a single word expelled over a poutish lower lip. "Well." Those fine eyes shimmered again, this time with an expression that told of plain disappointment, and was a sight more genuine than any other she'd given the Elf in the exchange. Once more, a long glance from crown to boots. "I had thought you a gentlemen, anyway." She turned from his as might a bright ship keel away from rocks at sea, and stepped lightly toward Samael's tree-perch. Her face canted upward once she stood below his bough. "You seem to be following me. Or I, you. How fare you? Is this land treating you well?"
Samael kicked his feet up to rest atop a conveniently positioned outgrowth of twigs and leaves, smiling to himself in self-spiting contentment. From here, he was afforded a good view of the affairs carried out below, and he watched these with the interest one would pay an acted comedy. The carved branch he had half-way stowed by his hip was once more taken to bear, laid comfortably across his slowly heaving stomach.
Samael said to Tenebrae, "The land treats me well." he'd make a broad gesture of his hand, warmly encompassing the abounding wilderness, "Because I treat the land well."
Thalion remained steadfast as the vampiress turned away. The comment that was meant in scorn had little effect on the High Elf, as he seemed contented enough to have won this battle of wits, though he was still intrigued by the dark one's presence and intentions, all of which he knew from experience to be false. Perhaps there would be time enough later to converse with her again. For now, Thalion returned his attention to Liana, eager to let the Elf maiden know that he was not intending to be rude in not speaking with her. His arms immediately unfolded themselves and returned gracefully to their sides, "My apologies, lady. I have not properly introduced myself," he spoke in a deep and gracious tone, smooth as honey running over the tongue, and quite different from the scathing voice addressed to Tenebrae, "My name is Thalion, and I am ever at your service." he gave a low bow in respect of his kin.
Tenebrae gave the midnight-hued male a flash of a Cheshire smile. "I'm bored, Samael, beyond sanity. And I hear there's a white stag, a ten-pointer, been sighted in the forest. We could do with fresh venison at the Corpse. Fancy a hunt?"
Thalion closed his eyes and grinned at the Vampiress' loose tongue, finally understanding why she had been harassing the patrons of the Inn. He did little else though.
Samael returned Tenebrae's question at first with an almost incredulous look, his brow arched and mouth stiffly lined. Then he gave his club a glance and the scowl deepened, likely expressing his internal qualms with beating a white stag to death with hand-hewn wood. Scrambling to his feet, which caught a sure hold on the precarious structure, he leaned down to seriously interrogate Tenebrae, "What is the celebration?"
Tenebrae bit her lip, and allowed little venom into the glancing look shot to the High Elf, as might a wasp dart toward a threat. But the lip she bit was curving upward at the corners. of course, if he looked her way, her attention would be on the big man in the tree.
Tenebrae said to Samael, "Why, our homecoming, from the journey. Good meat, and wine. Or.. water." The last, spoken pointedly. "Can you use a bow, or do you merely chase things down and hit them with your stick?" Hopefully, the man had a sense of humour under all that brawn.
Samael smiled broadly, the woman was amusing and with him in the tree, she was forced to speak upward, "In the trees, one uses a knife." he replied simply before dropping from his perch to land firmly on the earthen ground. He rolled his stick over one shoulder, dusting himself off with the free hand as he regarded Tenebrae sidelong, "I do not have a knife." His eyes, and his attention, were on Thalion.
Thalion 's eyes drew sideways to quickly scan the Human. He didn't know his intentions and neither did he much care. The High Elf rested the majority of his attention upon the Elf maiden whom he was currently conversing.
Tenebrae followed Samael's attention to the Elf, a scant look that took in more of him than one might gather in the time allowed. She reached down slowly, raising the hem of the scarlet leather worn under her cloak, an expanse of snow-hued thigh shown. Not gratuitously though, one might note-- in a scabbard strapped there, by a soft band of kidskin, a blade rested against the flat of her limb. "You do now." The weapon, strange of hilt and design, was flipped toward him, the necromancer apparently unmindful of whether he'd catch it by the right end, or at all. "Just let go of it, at first blood, should that event occur while you hold it."
Samael offered Thalion a cursory once-over in exchange, the tiers of his mouth twitching into a seemingly simple-minded smirk. His attention was pried from the elf with Tenebrae's correction, both eyes and quick hand drawn to the underhanded projectile. He caught it and brought it low by his side, turning to glance at Tenebrae in turn, "Okay. Then let's go."
Tenebrae swept one hand down in gesture of her attire. "I must change into something more fitting, and fetch my weapon. I have a few things stash.. er.. stored in a place nor far from here." Her eyes looked eastward to indicate the direction of the abandoned house. "I won't be long. Will you wait, or join me? Perhaps there's something useful there for you. I knew a man once, who was about your.." She studied his form for the space of a breath. "Size."
Samael smiles at Tenebrae but shakes his head, "I will go with you, but I have what I need." His free hand moved over his half-naked form before balling into a fist and being brought to strike upon his own chest, "I will not need your knife after I have used it."
Tenebrae huffed her assent to his wishes, and was not long in taking to the rise of the road, toward her town hiding-place. She returned, dressed in simpler and more fitting garb. Strapped to her back was the spear she'd chosen for this hunt, a weapon new to the woman, though comfortable to her use. She'd come to a stop beside Samael, looking up to the large human-- without those heels, she was quite diminutive. "Ready?"
Samael nods down at Tenebrae, stuffing his club into the band of his pants, "I am ready. Take us to the forest."
Tenebrae said, "...us?"
Samael smiles at Tenebrae, even gives a soft chuckle as he nods again, "The spirits are with me."
Thalion looks down to his sword, wondering when the last time he really used it was, especially on a hunt. Distant memories of happier times glaze over the High Elf's eyes for a few moments.
Tenebrae lofted a brow, turning from Samael with a soft mutter, "Thought you said you didn't drink." The Elf was in her path, and a subtle smile was hidden by the hood she drew up once more, against the glare of rising day. "And you.. sir." The word was curt. "Are you up for some gainful employment, or is it your will to hover about the tavern doors for the day?"
Thalion the glazed look disappeared at the short address, and his eyes fixed upon the Vampiress, or what little he could see of her. His gaze was stern and slightly contemptuous, but soon melted away as the prospect of the sport warmed his soul a little, particularly to be invited by one with whom he had only recently rowed. "I have little better to do with my time." he said with an air of dismissiveness, "I think I should enjoy a little game for once." and with that, he gathered himself and readied for the walk.
Tenebrae 's eyes looked skyward briefly, and without further preamble the necromancer set off westward.
-- Sage Forest--
Tenebrae paused at the lip of the forest, hood drawn down now she was under adequate shade. Her voice was soft, eyes seeking the two men who were now only one, she'd find, when she turned around. "Where did he..." A slight frown piqued her brow. To Thalion, she said, "Ah well. You and I, then. The stag was last seen in this area, and I tracked its spoor and call to here."
Thalion was already scanning the ground for suspect tracks or any glimpse of white amongst the trees borders. He was bent down onto one knee, keening his senses to the sounds and sights around him. Without turning to her, the High Elf spoke softly, "there is nothing of great relevance in this area, it is a little open for the animals liking. your companion ran on Southward."
Tenebrae nodded, and was soon to slip into the deeper shadow of the trees ahead, soundless as cat's feet, her hair a wave of black bound by a leather strip, falling over her rough cloak.
Thalion silently appears by the vampire's side, still intent upon the ground and any tracks that may come to light, though the light starts to dwindle among the low branches and visibility falls from the ever thickening trunks.
Tenebrae’s world was as monochromatic as the woman herself. There was business, and there was pleasure... and displeasure. She was all business now, and the latter held no stead on her features at all , a remarkable openness there in the place of predatory guile. Whatever issue the Elf had with her could simply wait. She drew the spear from its bindings, over her shoulder and stood in silence, preternatural hearing trained all sounds in her radius, nostrils flaring to draw in clues to their quarry's presence. Squirrel, birds, a fox's secretive scent, it all wafted to her on the breeze. And... spoor. Deer, female. Male.. A hand raised, she crooked her finger to beckon the Elf southward, spear gripped to attain correct balance. "We haven't much time." It would be the last thing she said, knowing how sensitive were the ears of their prey.
The stony ground fell away to rich forest humus and all its deep scents, and in the darknesses under the trees she moved as a ghost, or some secretive forest spirit, close to the tree-trunks and quiet as the breeze that hardly stirred the branches. Onward, a glance back now and then to discern the Elf moving, losing sight of him here and there and he found his own way through to the vale. Pausing once more to allow him to catch up, the vampiress was to turn back again, but froze, a sharp look eastward, to where she stepped now with even greater care. The spear tightened in her grip might have told Thalion that she'd sensed the presence of something like the animal they sought, and not too far away.
Thalion followed the Vampire's every deft movement, rarely losing sight of her, despite his eyes still concentrating upon the environment around them. He did marvel at her gracious movements and his mind sidetracked for a brief moment to her astonishing beauty that he had noticed earlier, but forced himself back to his senses. Now was not the time, for seemingly at the same moment, a familiar feeling and the thoughts of their quarry softly encroached into his mind, stopping him dead.
Tenebrae, in that moment of pause would reach for the Elf's sleeve a light tug given. Questing eyes went to his sword, her spear offered in its stead.
Thalion never lost track of their quarry's whereabouts, but shook his head at the offer of the spear. He knew how he would kill it if given the chance, and he always liked his prey to have some chance.
Tenebrae did not acknowledge the refusal with anything other than a step that took her into the Old Forest's gloom, her pace quickening now to a fleet stride.
Thalion hoists himself into the lower branches of the dense trees, deftly passing from bough to branch with as little noise as his wood Elf brethren, now out of the direct gaze of the Deer, should it happen to glance around. this would also give Tenebrae some advantage, were her own swiftness not sufficient to bring the beast down.
Tenebrae would not see Thalion ascending to the boughs, but knew by the indignant chatter of a squirrel, the flutter of a bird, that he'd likely taken to the trees. These sounds were soon behind her, she hurried toward the low grunt that spoke of a stag, no sighting yet, but he was close enough that her artificially animated heart was pounding blood in her ears, her flesh a knot of anticipation, and her eyes a yellow-green gleam that was little different to the slinking cats that nightly haunted the wood. And then, from out of a copse ahead broke a blur of white, a great, antlered monarch that knew, perhaps, his reign was at risk, and with another deep grunt took flight and bolted north.
Thalion was able to keep pace well, owing to the lack of brush, brambles or other impediments that the Stag and Tenebrae would need to deal with. His sword drawn already and tucked behind his arm, Thalion merely waited for the opportune moment to drop from the branches and cleave a suitably crippling wound into a limb. Nothing else bothered him now, his deftness and determination driving him to see nothing but the prey.
Tenebrae had scant chance to aim, the slender legs of the magnificent buck carrying it fast, almost too fast for her to keep it in sight as woman and deer fled across the forest. On she ran, hoping for a break in the path, a split second in which she could launch her spear at throat or flank.
Samael was on his belly, sliding silently, inch by inch, across the length of a sturdy branch. His arms and legs were coiled tightly about its girth, and while it may have required the utmost of concentration to move along the precarious overhang while keeping so quiet, he kept his eyes mainly focused upon the white stag that was approaching at a wounded lope. The ritual dagger, incongruent to the hunter with its intricate ridges and ornaments, was clutched in Samael's teeth. The moment the buck drew into line beneath him, he took the blade into hand and released his perch, swinging around beneath it to land atop his prey's back. His bulky weight, combined with the impact of the fall, was enough to bring the beast's hind legs staggering while that ornately fashioned knife streaked in for a blow to its throat.
Thalion was still pacing fast, occasionally leaping over large gaps in the boughs, hearing quite clearly where the Stag was heading. At a critical moment, the great beast had stumbled or paused in confusion. This was all the chance the Elf needed; taking a few more large strides, Thalion dropped through a suitable gap and seared toward the ground, sword in hand, the beast growing from a tiny creature to encompass his whole vision. One deft slash at the swiftly listing Stag allowed for the briefest slash at the hind quarters, drawing a thin stream of blood as its upper flank was caught. resting for a second on bent knees, Thalion looked up to locate Tenebrae.
Tenebrae's chance came below the Ancient tree's shadow, when a fallen oak almost large enough to challenge that vasty elder itself gave the stag a moment's challenge-- as it leapt, delicate forehooves lifting in an attempt to leap the obstacle, and she found her chance for aim. With a shoulder-wrenching thrust sent her spear hurtling toward the quarry. With a loud cry, the stag threw back its head in agony, spear hanging like a matador's weapon from its flank, rich red staining the glaucous perfection of its hide, abruptly Samael swung down to land upon the beast. Stunned, eyes vapid momentarily on the beast's erstwhile rider, the ornate dagger's twin was lifted from her belt, and she'd circle the pair with caution, only to find Thalion there, a sudden presence that had the beast stagger not only under the weight of the big man buckling it legs, but a sword wound as well.
Samael was thrown from the beast's bucking back, releasing the deeply rooted blade before tumbling a length of the terrain. Cushioning most of the blow with his shoulder, he rolled forward and landed to his feet, careening away from the wounded stag.
Thalion looked up and grinned at Tenebrae, confident that each party had done their job. It now seemed to rest upon one of them to finish the beast. From his relaxed stance, it would appear that Thalion would leave this honour to one of the others, being but a late invitation to the task.
Tenebrae flashed in from behind the creature's shoulder, the cruel dagger plunged to sever its carotid, she hoped. But the blade slipped, though arterial spray flooded forth, the blade twisted out of her hand when the stag wheeled to face her, dying and fighting its last, to lower its head as if in gracious bow, and caught her up like a ragdoll on the sharp branches of its rack. Her cry shattered the forest's quiet, and her body fell with a thud to the earth.
Samael turned around slowly, his dark countenance drawn into lines of fury that wouldn't seem to reflect his sentiment toward the focus of that stare; the stag who now struggled to its feet despite ruined hindquarters. He clutched onto his staff, jerking it from its makeshift strap and holding it to bear. A look was given Tenebrae's way, a brief inquiry.
Thalion rushed suddenly forward, seeing Tenebrae fall, bearing his sword in battle stance. Standing over her wounded body, Thalion guarded her, staring down the Stag as it howled and snorted in pain. The High Elf flashed a look at Samael, urging him to finish it quickly.
Samael took off in a forward run, rearing the heavy club over head as he advanced the stag. Upon reaching the flailing beast, he drove one foot into the earth, halting his charge and planting to transfer momentum into his swing. Accompanied by the warrior's yawp, that crudely hewn branch of wood cracked into the side of the deer's skull.
Tenebrae's breath, unnecessary as it was the bulk of her kind, was a rattle in her throat as blood was sucked into her punctured lung. Though the pain was agonising, all that occupied her mind was the knowledge that to lose breath was to fail to feed the heart thudding in her chest, and that to still it was to give her true death, and that this would make her no better than the lowest revenant. So she fought to keep breathing, despite the wracking jags that tore through her with every bubbled inhalation, and with glazed eyes turned to the Elf standing over her, wiped a spill of sanguine from her lips with the back of a shaking hand.
Samael 's blow had been sufficient in carrying out the cause. The sight of the great stag toppling to its side might have raised awe, though it raised its forelimbs in a desperate attempt to maintain balance.
Samael slammed his foot down onto the stag's throat and lifted his club over head, closing his eyes and whispering foreign phrases, a prayer likely, under breath. When the club's weighted head crashed down onto the buck's skull, that was all she wrote. The ensuing crack assured the thick cranium had split, and the gradual twitches that proceeded along its muscular frame ensured that it was dead.
Thalion watches Samael continue the fight with the gargantuan creature and trusts the brutal Human to finish the job to a satisfactory standard without further trouble. The High Elf sheaths his sword in one swift motion and bends down onto one knee, surveying the battered and broken body of the vampire. Meeting her eyes and peering deep into them, he could see that she may not live if she did not receive attention straight away. A strange compassion came over him, despite barely knowing the woman and not approving of her evil tendencies and high opinions. "What do you need?" was all that Thalion could think to ask.
Tenebrae was hardly fit for conversation, but with her face screwed up into a mask of pain pulled up the hem of her bodice to reveal the puncture, white of rib showing where the flesh was sheared away and bone had broken inward to rupture her lung. Back arcing to keep the wound in sight as long as she could, she'd shudder, let her garment fall into place and drop her arm, exhausted with the effort.
Samael , unlike Thalion, couldn't spare Tenebrae any attention at the moment. Perhaps he thought that the elf would see to the matter, perhaps not, but from the somber expression that replaced all ferocity in his black features, he appeared to be mourning the fallen stag. He laid his club down on the dirt, freeing his hands so that he could press both palms to the creature's snowy hide. In the midst of the forest, the silence broken only by Tenebrae's labored breaths, he closed his eyes and hovered inertly over the kill.
Thalion barely needed to look at the wound for more than a moment for him to know that it was near fatal and that her lungs were all but destroyed, inside and out. A mortal would never have survived such a wound and it was miraculous that she had. Knowing little of Vampiric physiology or treatment, there was only one thing that he could think of, though he was hesitant to the point of distraction. He slowly drew up his trouser leg, removing a slender Elven blade and removed his mithril braces to expose his pale wrist. Peering into those dimming green eyes, Thalion gave a questioning look: should I, shouldn't I?
Tenebrae might have wondered at the stranger's self-sacrificing action were she not desperate and were Death not circling her heart like a black moth battering a candleflame's guttering flicker. She did not hesitate to grasp the offered wrist, though her grip was not as vise-like as it might have been, and bite down hard, sparing him the effort of opening a vein. There, she'd drink until he might dislodge her, her heart fluttering like a hawk trapped in a too-small cage, and grope beneath her garment to slide her fingers to the wound, slippery bone grasped, lost, grasped again and yanked clear of the hole it'd made. She'd heal-- and death was the least of her worries. If only that living heart kept beating, hell was at bay and all would be well, in time.
Samael rose to his feet after taking his club from the dirt. He was nodding to the deer as though acknowledging some unheard last words, a feral demand for legacy. Of course, one would have to see things as the warrior did to make such an assumption. His features were set in grim seriousness as he came to stand beside Thalion, peering down at the wounded and drinking Tenebrae.
Thalion realised it was a silly question really, as he felt the desperately weak grip for someone of her power and the sharp needles of her teeth plunging into his flawless skin. A sharp intake of breath and perhaps a giddy feeling for a few seconds as the first gushes flooded into her mouth, making him wonder for a moment what on earth he was doing. but then, the strangest sensation of being lifted up, light as a feather into the air, though knowing they were firmly planted on the ground, and a sudden sense of calm; almost pleasure as his very essences was drained slowly away. Despite knowing the dangers, he allowed the Vampiress to continue, feeling somehow closer to her in their life-giving embrace, and suddenly realising that he was holding her in his arms, making a strange scene to those not in the know.
Samael lowered his hand to Thalion's shoulder and gave a firm squeeze, shaking him, hopefully, from his stupor. In a low, almost inaudible whisper, he reminded, "Wake up."
Tenebrae's lips remained locked over elf's wrist, cheeks sucked hollow from the effort of drawing his essence into flesh that was rapid to heal but coagulating slowly over the deep wound. She would not feel arms wrapping her, not hear the human's rumbling voice for words-- it was only a sound, a dull buzz below the double-thud of her heart that did not skip and flag as it had minutes ago. Too, her breath would come easier now the hole was clotted and the rent knitted thinly over the site. Really, she was only making up for what she'd lost, and sating a hunger sharpened by the sight of a drunk's blood, back at the tavern.
Thalion heard the distant call of Samael through his misty mind, dimmed by the loss of his life-force and oblivious to all but the drifting feeling of happiness that had come over him. the sudden shaking motion had the desired affect on the Elf though, as he broke from his dreamlike illusion and felt the pain of the teeth, the uncomfortable sensation of the blood being drawn and a sudden insatiable thirst. Tenebrae's strength was obviously several times greater than before and her general health was much improved, so the Elf began to remove her strong grip, almost prying her head away from the wound in his wrist. Having finally broken free, Thalion fell back and allowed himself to breathe deeply, and reach for the waybread and spring water he always kept with him. Now would be a very good time for them, as he had probably allowed her to take a little too much. He looked back at her now to see what condition she was in.
Samael turned away from the pair, dragging his club against the soft earth as he stepped toward a particularly thick growth of flora. The warrior's deep blue eyes were scanning the inner forest.
Tenebrae fell back to the forest floor once her bite was dislodged, gulping air like a landed fish. Fallen leaves and twigs nestled in her hair, she would writhe, fighting the urge to rise up and rend a throat, fill herself to gravidness, glut on the life until it fled, a wayward spark blustered into a chimney to extinguish itself in the dark. Milk-hued limbs writhed, sound breaking over her lips, until she rolled, curled for a moment against the complaint of still-healing flesh, and came to rest on all fours. Through blowsened locks, peridot eyes peered ice-green, hard and cold, flitting from prey to prey, but would soften as that prey became a man, and another man, and recognition burst upon her mind. "Th..." Rocking back into a kneel, she attempted it again. "Thank.. you." This, to her benefactor, only a haunted glance to Samael's turned back, and the corpse of the stag lying still, its hide blooming red on white, like poppies strewn on a bridal sheet.
Thalion was by this point gulping down mouthfuls of cool water and chewing small chunks of waybread, attempting to regain some strength and composure. The hunt was nothing compared to saving the life of this dark one; something he still only half guessed as to why he'd done, or didn't yet dare to admit. He merely nodded in response, the perspiration laying thick on his forehead and still sprawled in a very undignified fashion on the floor. Gathering some voice, he eventually replied, "You are most welcome, my lady." before laying his head back down to allow the dizziness to subside.
Samael said, "The stag is dead. His body will build the strength of many." He turned back to face the two, his eyes passing from Thalion to Tenebrae, "In the fight for his life, he did not destroy you. Close. That is a good death." he would pause before offering the vampiress a short-lived smile, "And a good life."
Thalion remained still on the ground, keen to recover some more strength before arising again, "I agree," the Elf replied in a hushed tone, "He certainly made it difficult for all of us. It was a good hunt and a worthy adversary."
Tenebrae heard Samael's speech as she traversed the debris of the forest to bring herself near the Elf. The dark man's eyes held a strange comfort, even moreso than his words, and she nodded her agreement. "Close. A good fight." Which was about all she had breath for, before a blood-crusted palm would rest tentatively on Thalion's arm, if he allowed it. And if he opened those eyes, green as her own, if a different shade, he'd see a different woman altogether from the harsh and canny broad he'd found tossing rocks at men in Kelay. For a moment, she was not Tenebrae-the-infamous, the haughty and cruel. Who she was, below that moniker and the monster that had inspired it-- well, that was something he might find out another day. "Y'alright?"
Thalion felt the cold touch of the woman's hand upon his arm and he wondered at the action, whether out of kindness or concern, he couldn't be sure. He opened his eyes and gazed into hers, seeing the shine returned to them once more and smiled. He placed his own hand upon hers, if she in turn would allow it, then simply replied, "I will be fine, given time." He was glad that she was alive and well, though only just beginning to realise why, as he would have not given it any thought a mere few hours ago.
Samael suddenly took off into the forest, loping like a feral cat through the bushes. He'd knock all growth aside with his club or he'd simply let it slap against his dark flesh. Either way, he was gone without a trace in moments.
She might have spoken, had not her large companion gone bounding off into the trees so abruptly, the crashing of his form through branch and bush drawing her gaze from where it'd been locked on Thalion's own. Turning back, a moment seemed to have passed, and she withdrew her hand from under his, though not hastily. She kept the frown from her brow, that might have revealed her thoughts, her questioning. Instead, she walked, gingerly and with an arm wrapped across her ribs, toward the hulking carcass of their kill, apparently all business once more. "We'll have to cut it up here. No chance we'll carry this back now."
Thalion did not seem too worried about her departure, although it seemed they had a moment there that was hard to explain. However, her words spurred the High Elf slowly to his feet, feeling a little groggy still, yet not badly affected. He trudged lazily over to the huge dead creature, a mere shadow of its grace in life, with flies already milling busily around the wounds. Taking his sword out, he wondered where to begin and what would be of most worth to Tenebrae and her Inn. He glanced towards her, a little unsure of what to say, though what he wanted to say needed to be in somewhere not so public and preferably alone. A thought was playing on his mind, vexing him terribly.
Tenebrae knelt, close to where she'd found her fallen knife wedged under one of the stag's legs. The deadly blade was razor-honed, and pierced through the ruined hide easily. As she began to flay the carcass, she hoped there was enough of the skin left unmarked to be a useful product. "We'll take the haunch, the good cuts along the ribs and back, and the head. The forest can have the rest." She hated waste, moreso when the creature whose meat she wasted had almost made her ample supper for wolves and foxes. But things were what they were. Hurrying, she soon had a decent portion of the deer skun, and ready for butchering.
Tenebrae said to Thalion, "Something bothering you, pet?" She'd noted his hesitancy. "If you don't mind saying, that is."
Thalion proceeded to deftly slice through tendon, flesh and cartilage and form easily transported cuts, keeping as close to the bone as his surgically crafted sword allowed, often leaving nought but bone. he wasn't entirely sure what to say in response to the question, just a strange sensation that he had rarely shared with anyone else, let alone a perfect stranger, "I'm not sure," was all he replied, "Perhaps we might talk later, when my thoughts are clearer?" he suggested, secretly burning to discuss something intangible and just beyond the reach of his understanding. Perhaps it was some preternatural effect on him? Perhaps the shock hadn't worn off? Either way, he returned to the task, "I could call the wood elves to help. It would be a simple matter and they would help to carry much of it."
Tenebrae just nodded quietly to his first statement, her eyes holding her own questions in silence, but spoke her assent to the second, which solved the problem of transporting the kill back to town. "If they could bring it to that old house on Kelay road, I can send word for my men in Vailkrin.." It wasn't quite a smile she gave him, then, not quite. "Dark elves nearby, and worse, in my own land, Don't want to bring yourself, or your people there, I dare say." Though she really knew little about his race, she did know of the eternal enmity that existed between forest and Underdark. "And I suppose..." The curve of her mouth was less stringent, this time. "I should like to know what to call you."
Thalion felt the tension between them was almost palpable, but knew that they would both fare better after some rest. Perhaps it would even bring some sanity back, as it had been an unusual afternoon. He returned his attention to her again, "I know, the wood elves have had their eye on you for over an hour now." he indicated a tree to the left and a tree to the rear and above them, "They probably felt that I was keeping you in check, or were simply curious of us being here. they will come and see me once you leave, which I fear you should do, for your wounds look dreadful still. I'm worried ab..." he caught himself short there and didn't continue, knowing full well what he was going to say. "Don't worry about the carcass, we shall deliver it to the house for you, and your men can collect it later. perhaps I should stay and make sure it remains there, if I may? I have no home here yet and stay mostly at the various Inns." he asked in a roundabout way, he wasn't too concerned about where he slept, outside or in.
Thalion said, "And my name is Thalion. At your service."
Tenebrae cast her gaze to the trees, frowning. Habitual hypervigilance left her wary to the point of paranoid at times, though not often wrongly so, but she was well out of her element here, and not so the host that had followed the hunting party undetected. Her eyes returning to the Elf at hand. "Thalion..." She could not help repeating the sound, nor the slight shudder that spidered along her spine. "Well met, I suppose. And yes, feel free to stay at the house." Most generous seeing as it wasn't hers to offer. "There's a nice loft upstairs, not too closed in. And..." Her dagger retrieved, and housed back in its sheath, she'd gain his side. One palm was raised to cup his jaw, just a brief chill touch. "Thankyou again." And then she'd turn back to the west, soon only another shadow flitting through the evening trees.
Thalion watched her disappear into the trees, a hand raising to where her hand lay, and remained silent with his thoughts.
Tenebrae had her arm raised, a flat stone pincered in her fingers, ready for the next inebriate who happened along. The approach of the stranger had her pause in the act, a startled look sideways possibly giving him a glimpse of chalk-white and delicate features in which were set two wide, peridot-green eyes that would not have been out of place on some feral cat cornered by a hound. "Hm?" The arm was lowered, canted out from her ribs though in case he needed an eye taken out. Her sword was uncomfortably missing from her latest ensemble. "I'm ... saving these men. From their evil ways, like." Figuring the jig was up in any case, she drew the hood back over her hair, the liquorice-strap black shine of it caught up at her nape with amethyst pins and gave the elf a look she hoped was frank. "Their .. drinkin' and wenchin'. Should be home, with their good wives this time o'morning."
Thalion had only guessed at the race of this young woman, however now realised that she may not in fact be young at all. Ever taken aback by the beauty of the children of Darkness, one which rivaled the Elves, he was doubly surprised by the sincerity of her action. He offered no threat to her at all, his own small dagger remaining in his boot and not thought of for the moment. With only the slightest look of curiosity, the High Elf asks, "Forgive me for interrupting your good intentions, my lady, but it intrigues me that a forsaken one should wish to save a small group of drunks. And in such an indirect way." he hoped that his subtle undertone of sarcasm was detectable, and let the Vampiress know that he had figured some ulterior motive.
Liana enters the square from the tavern, her soft green gown clinging to her legs as she moves. Crossing to the drunken fool, she reaches down, pulling him to his feet. With a gentle shove, she sends the man on his way, hoping that he will make it home safely. Turning to the others, she nods respectfully.
Thalion smiles kindly at the Elf maiden, ever pleased to see that good still thrives in the world.
Tenebrae 's lips pursed, infinitesimally, to evade the spread of the smirk that threatened to curl them and ruin all pretence. "I've a heart of gold, it's been said." And it had-- though the meaning of the actual words spoken had been quite different from the proverbial sense she conveyed so wryly now. "And I might equally ask why an Elf like yourself..," this said with a long-drawn glance from head to toe, that illustrated her acknowledgement of his status, betrayed by accent and stoic demeanour, "... might be wandering a common road at dawn, dressed not unlike a criminal."
Liana returns the smile with a gentle one of her own, her eyes scanning the high elf as she does so. "Well met," she says by way of greeting, her voice soft, yet carrying.
Tenebrae gave the elf a sharp look, ever chagrined at the capacity of others to nourish the weak. But a saccharine smile crossed her lips, anyway.
Liana returns the female's look with a penetrating gaze of her own. She does not like what she sees in those eyes, but her expression does not betray it.
Thalion thought of taking offence to this remark, however he was more than aware of his current appearance and was not altogether pleased with the look himself. Regardless, his sense of self-righteousness prevailed, "Not making a pest of myself, at least, lady." he replied with a scornful look, "I think it much worse that such a finely dressed woman as yourself should be found in such a common place and prey upon those who have little in the world." a sudden smirk grew on his face as he realised the juxtapose they both created in this little scene, "My own dress is merely misfortune. What excuse, I pray tell, do you have?"
Thalion turns from the Vampiress for a moment to properly greet the Elf maiden, "Mae Govannen, mellonin." he said gracefully in his native tongue, though all too aware that she was not of the noble blood.
Liana bridles at the insult, however veiled, to one of her race. Not wishing to intrude upon their conversation, she forces her demeanour to remain outwardly calm. Crossing, she leans against the trunk of a tall oak, her eyes still on the speakers.
Samael folded arms across his barrel chest, stopping short a few ways from the assembly.
Liana looks up, her smile now genuine. Extending a slim hand to him, she speaks. "Greetings, kinsman. May you always find shade and water." she is careful neither to abase herself, nor to sound too lofty.
Tenebrae slid that ice-tinged gaze the female's way, tiny hairs prickling the back of her neck. Turning it back upon the male, whose nobility was evident in comparison, she surmised the two were not, at least, of the same kin. Therefore, less likely to be hunting together. Her nostrils flared faintly as she sniffed, "Wouldn't do to advertise oneself as rich, in these parts. Never know what sort of scum are prowlin' the roads." The cloak was shrugged away from pale shoulders, the sun only just breaking past the hill not yet strong enough to pink the alabaster of her skin. "And I'm hardly preying on 'em." There'd be that glint again, a wild little shimmer that spoke of the hunger she'd yet to sate. "Like I said, merely discouraging their vice."
Thalion seems relieved that she decided to speak to him, despite his status and appearance, "And may light always find you in dark places, my lady." he replied warmly, "Forgive me whilst I speak for a moment."
Liana nods to the high elf, her pale skinned hand dropping to her side once more. Absently, she runs her other along the bark of the tree, not realising that, unconsciously, she checks its health. Her eyes return to the female, her gaze steady. She remains silent, watching the pair closely.
Thalion 's arms crossed very slowly over his chest and cast a cynical stare at the dark one, though his eyes were tormented by the near perfection of her skin and general complexion. Ever such a shame that such beauty should often accompany such evil and malice, though seemingly little of either he saw in Tenebrae, "Evidently," came the sardonic reply, "One would not stoop so low to drink of them, surely? Although you certainly seem threatened by the weak, should you need to keep any semblance of richness hidden away?" he remarked with an inner grin, the sting in his voice seeming to resonate a little.
Samael was carrying that stick of his, propped it over his shoulder where it now bobbed at a light rhythm. His lips played into a discreet half smile that stopped at his eyes. That oceanic gaze was serenely in focus.
Samael spoke out, raising his deep voice high enough to traverse the road, "Hello, Tenebrae," the morphemes of her name simplified to suit his poor grasp of common, "I see you many places."
Tenebrae 's glimmering irises dulled to a flatter expression, and it was the turn of one slender brow of her own to arc gently over its eye. "I am fussier, it's true." Not true. Not always. And recovering from the slight, at least in appearance, she straightened her spine a little and smiled, a dazzling expression that dripped ingenuity, and when she spoke her words spilled from her lips like a ripple of silk, in a carefully modulated, soothing tone. "And yes, perhaps, a little threatened. What lady would not be, by such ruffians?" Another look was fleetingly cast the female's way, as though she couldn't quite help it. "Thank goodness for stand-up gentlemen like yourself." Samael's presence was acknowledged with the slightest dip of chin, a hint of green peeking through dark lashes, before her attention returned to the stranger.
Tenebrae winced as her name was announced so, a weak smile being her response.
Liana gives no outward sign of the slight, other than a flash of anger in her gaze, quickly stilled. She turns her eyes upon the newcomer for an instant, before returning to her contemplation of the speakers. "Young though I may be," she thinks to herself in a pleased tone, "She cannot stir me to fury as she would have done a scant century before."
Thalion chuckled to himself a little, the grin still present and giving him a handsome, if slightly arrogant air. The arms also remained defiantly, not as a pretence of defence, but more of superiority that was ever present in his kind. He sighed inwardly and wondered if the vampire knew how many times seduction had not caught him out. Or at least not after the first few times. His disposition was resolute, "That is pleasing news. I would hate for these innocents to be terrorized any further than small pebbles," that stinging tone again, "Though I think you exaggerate the threat here. These people are not strong, nor skilled, most of them. They might benefit from your absence." he almost scolded, but kept his tone polite as far as possible, as she had done. The compliment had worked somewhat to charm him, as had the use of her other preternatural senses.
Samael nodded his head and made for a nearby tree, quickly stuffing his club into the band of loose-fitting trousers when he reached its base. The warrior was planning to climb, a fact made clear as soon as he widened his stance. His knees bent, arms extended toward the tree bark, and with the sounding of a momentous grunt, he vaulted some four feet up the tree's length before catching hold of its side and scrambling up the length to a strong branch. An easy swing of his arms and leg sent him over the top side of the sturdy perch, where he settled in comfortably.
Thalion turns his eyes to Liana for a moment and gives a very slight wink, the meaning of which is not apparent, but appears to be loaded with his own sense of 'high and mighty'.
Liana meets Thalion's gaze, but does no more than that, as she remembers his request to let him finish his conversation. She notes the ease with which the warrior scales the tree, and nods approvingly. From the corner of her eye, she sees a fight break out between a drunk and a newcomer. Resolutely, and perhaps a little sadly, she turns her eyes from it.
Tenebrae made small sound, a sigh so soft as to merely whisper across her chords, to emerge as a single word expelled over a poutish lower lip. "Well." Those fine eyes shimmered again, this time with an expression that told of plain disappointment, and was a sight more genuine than any other she'd given the Elf in the exchange. Once more, a long glance from crown to boots. "I had thought you a gentlemen, anyway." She turned from his as might a bright ship keel away from rocks at sea, and stepped lightly toward Samael's tree-perch. Her face canted upward once she stood below his bough. "You seem to be following me. Or I, you. How fare you? Is this land treating you well?"
Samael kicked his feet up to rest atop a conveniently positioned outgrowth of twigs and leaves, smiling to himself in self-spiting contentment. From here, he was afforded a good view of the affairs carried out below, and he watched these with the interest one would pay an acted comedy. The carved branch he had half-way stowed by his hip was once more taken to bear, laid comfortably across his slowly heaving stomach.
Samael said to Tenebrae, "The land treats me well." he'd make a broad gesture of his hand, warmly encompassing the abounding wilderness, "Because I treat the land well."
Thalion remained steadfast as the vampiress turned away. The comment that was meant in scorn had little effect on the High Elf, as he seemed contented enough to have won this battle of wits, though he was still intrigued by the dark one's presence and intentions, all of which he knew from experience to be false. Perhaps there would be time enough later to converse with her again. For now, Thalion returned his attention to Liana, eager to let the Elf maiden know that he was not intending to be rude in not speaking with her. His arms immediately unfolded themselves and returned gracefully to their sides, "My apologies, lady. I have not properly introduced myself," he spoke in a deep and gracious tone, smooth as honey running over the tongue, and quite different from the scathing voice addressed to Tenebrae, "My name is Thalion, and I am ever at your service." he gave a low bow in respect of his kin.
Tenebrae gave the midnight-hued male a flash of a Cheshire smile. "I'm bored, Samael, beyond sanity. And I hear there's a white stag, a ten-pointer, been sighted in the forest. We could do with fresh venison at the Corpse. Fancy a hunt?"
Thalion closed his eyes and grinned at the Vampiress' loose tongue, finally understanding why she had been harassing the patrons of the Inn. He did little else though.
Samael returned Tenebrae's question at first with an almost incredulous look, his brow arched and mouth stiffly lined. Then he gave his club a glance and the scowl deepened, likely expressing his internal qualms with beating a white stag to death with hand-hewn wood. Scrambling to his feet, which caught a sure hold on the precarious structure, he leaned down to seriously interrogate Tenebrae, "What is the celebration?"
Tenebrae bit her lip, and allowed little venom into the glancing look shot to the High Elf, as might a wasp dart toward a threat. But the lip she bit was curving upward at the corners. of course, if he looked her way, her attention would be on the big man in the tree.
Tenebrae said to Samael, "Why, our homecoming, from the journey. Good meat, and wine. Or.. water." The last, spoken pointedly. "Can you use a bow, or do you merely chase things down and hit them with your stick?" Hopefully, the man had a sense of humour under all that brawn.
Samael smiled broadly, the woman was amusing and with him in the tree, she was forced to speak upward, "In the trees, one uses a knife." he replied simply before dropping from his perch to land firmly on the earthen ground. He rolled his stick over one shoulder, dusting himself off with the free hand as he regarded Tenebrae sidelong, "I do not have a knife." His eyes, and his attention, were on Thalion.
Thalion 's eyes drew sideways to quickly scan the Human. He didn't know his intentions and neither did he much care. The High Elf rested the majority of his attention upon the Elf maiden whom he was currently conversing.
Tenebrae followed Samael's attention to the Elf, a scant look that took in more of him than one might gather in the time allowed. She reached down slowly, raising the hem of the scarlet leather worn under her cloak, an expanse of snow-hued thigh shown. Not gratuitously though, one might note-- in a scabbard strapped there, by a soft band of kidskin, a blade rested against the flat of her limb. "You do now." The weapon, strange of hilt and design, was flipped toward him, the necromancer apparently unmindful of whether he'd catch it by the right end, or at all. "Just let go of it, at first blood, should that event occur while you hold it."
Samael offered Thalion a cursory once-over in exchange, the tiers of his mouth twitching into a seemingly simple-minded smirk. His attention was pried from the elf with Tenebrae's correction, both eyes and quick hand drawn to the underhanded projectile. He caught it and brought it low by his side, turning to glance at Tenebrae in turn, "Okay. Then let's go."
Tenebrae swept one hand down in gesture of her attire. "I must change into something more fitting, and fetch my weapon. I have a few things stash.. er.. stored in a place nor far from here." Her eyes looked eastward to indicate the direction of the abandoned house. "I won't be long. Will you wait, or join me? Perhaps there's something useful there for you. I knew a man once, who was about your.." She studied his form for the space of a breath. "Size."
Samael smiles at Tenebrae but shakes his head, "I will go with you, but I have what I need." His free hand moved over his half-naked form before balling into a fist and being brought to strike upon his own chest, "I will not need your knife after I have used it."
Tenebrae huffed her assent to his wishes, and was not long in taking to the rise of the road, toward her town hiding-place. She returned, dressed in simpler and more fitting garb. Strapped to her back was the spear she'd chosen for this hunt, a weapon new to the woman, though comfortable to her use. She'd come to a stop beside Samael, looking up to the large human-- without those heels, she was quite diminutive. "Ready?"
Samael nods down at Tenebrae, stuffing his club into the band of his pants, "I am ready. Take us to the forest."
Tenebrae said, "...us?"
Samael smiles at Tenebrae, even gives a soft chuckle as he nods again, "The spirits are with me."
Thalion looks down to his sword, wondering when the last time he really used it was, especially on a hunt. Distant memories of happier times glaze over the High Elf's eyes for a few moments.
Tenebrae lofted a brow, turning from Samael with a soft mutter, "Thought you said you didn't drink." The Elf was in her path, and a subtle smile was hidden by the hood she drew up once more, against the glare of rising day. "And you.. sir." The word was curt. "Are you up for some gainful employment, or is it your will to hover about the tavern doors for the day?"
Thalion the glazed look disappeared at the short address, and his eyes fixed upon the Vampiress, or what little he could see of her. His gaze was stern and slightly contemptuous, but soon melted away as the prospect of the sport warmed his soul a little, particularly to be invited by one with whom he had only recently rowed. "I have little better to do with my time." he said with an air of dismissiveness, "I think I should enjoy a little game for once." and with that, he gathered himself and readied for the walk.
Tenebrae 's eyes looked skyward briefly, and without further preamble the necromancer set off westward.
-- Sage Forest--
Tenebrae paused at the lip of the forest, hood drawn down now she was under adequate shade. Her voice was soft, eyes seeking the two men who were now only one, she'd find, when she turned around. "Where did he..." A slight frown piqued her brow. To Thalion, she said, "Ah well. You and I, then. The stag was last seen in this area, and I tracked its spoor and call to here."
Thalion was already scanning the ground for suspect tracks or any glimpse of white amongst the trees borders. He was bent down onto one knee, keening his senses to the sounds and sights around him. Without turning to her, the High Elf spoke softly, "there is nothing of great relevance in this area, it is a little open for the animals liking. your companion ran on Southward."
Tenebrae nodded, and was soon to slip into the deeper shadow of the trees ahead, soundless as cat's feet, her hair a wave of black bound by a leather strip, falling over her rough cloak.
Thalion silently appears by the vampire's side, still intent upon the ground and any tracks that may come to light, though the light starts to dwindle among the low branches and visibility falls from the ever thickening trunks.
Tenebrae’s world was as monochromatic as the woman herself. There was business, and there was pleasure... and displeasure. She was all business now, and the latter held no stead on her features at all , a remarkable openness there in the place of predatory guile. Whatever issue the Elf had with her could simply wait. She drew the spear from its bindings, over her shoulder and stood in silence, preternatural hearing trained all sounds in her radius, nostrils flaring to draw in clues to their quarry's presence. Squirrel, birds, a fox's secretive scent, it all wafted to her on the breeze. And... spoor. Deer, female. Male.. A hand raised, she crooked her finger to beckon the Elf southward, spear gripped to attain correct balance. "We haven't much time." It would be the last thing she said, knowing how sensitive were the ears of their prey.
The stony ground fell away to rich forest humus and all its deep scents, and in the darknesses under the trees she moved as a ghost, or some secretive forest spirit, close to the tree-trunks and quiet as the breeze that hardly stirred the branches. Onward, a glance back now and then to discern the Elf moving, losing sight of him here and there and he found his own way through to the vale. Pausing once more to allow him to catch up, the vampiress was to turn back again, but froze, a sharp look eastward, to where she stepped now with even greater care. The spear tightened in her grip might have told Thalion that she'd sensed the presence of something like the animal they sought, and not too far away.
Thalion followed the Vampire's every deft movement, rarely losing sight of her, despite his eyes still concentrating upon the environment around them. He did marvel at her gracious movements and his mind sidetracked for a brief moment to her astonishing beauty that he had noticed earlier, but forced himself back to his senses. Now was not the time, for seemingly at the same moment, a familiar feeling and the thoughts of their quarry softly encroached into his mind, stopping him dead.
Tenebrae, in that moment of pause would reach for the Elf's sleeve a light tug given. Questing eyes went to his sword, her spear offered in its stead.
Thalion never lost track of their quarry's whereabouts, but shook his head at the offer of the spear. He knew how he would kill it if given the chance, and he always liked his prey to have some chance.
Tenebrae did not acknowledge the refusal with anything other than a step that took her into the Old Forest's gloom, her pace quickening now to a fleet stride.
Thalion hoists himself into the lower branches of the dense trees, deftly passing from bough to branch with as little noise as his wood Elf brethren, now out of the direct gaze of the Deer, should it happen to glance around. this would also give Tenebrae some advantage, were her own swiftness not sufficient to bring the beast down.
Tenebrae would not see Thalion ascending to the boughs, but knew by the indignant chatter of a squirrel, the flutter of a bird, that he'd likely taken to the trees. These sounds were soon behind her, she hurried toward the low grunt that spoke of a stag, no sighting yet, but he was close enough that her artificially animated heart was pounding blood in her ears, her flesh a knot of anticipation, and her eyes a yellow-green gleam that was little different to the slinking cats that nightly haunted the wood. And then, from out of a copse ahead broke a blur of white, a great, antlered monarch that knew, perhaps, his reign was at risk, and with another deep grunt took flight and bolted north.
Thalion was able to keep pace well, owing to the lack of brush, brambles or other impediments that the Stag and Tenebrae would need to deal with. His sword drawn already and tucked behind his arm, Thalion merely waited for the opportune moment to drop from the branches and cleave a suitably crippling wound into a limb. Nothing else bothered him now, his deftness and determination driving him to see nothing but the prey.
Tenebrae had scant chance to aim, the slender legs of the magnificent buck carrying it fast, almost too fast for her to keep it in sight as woman and deer fled across the forest. On she ran, hoping for a break in the path, a split second in which she could launch her spear at throat or flank.
Samael was on his belly, sliding silently, inch by inch, across the length of a sturdy branch. His arms and legs were coiled tightly about its girth, and while it may have required the utmost of concentration to move along the precarious overhang while keeping so quiet, he kept his eyes mainly focused upon the white stag that was approaching at a wounded lope. The ritual dagger, incongruent to the hunter with its intricate ridges and ornaments, was clutched in Samael's teeth. The moment the buck drew into line beneath him, he took the blade into hand and released his perch, swinging around beneath it to land atop his prey's back. His bulky weight, combined with the impact of the fall, was enough to bring the beast's hind legs staggering while that ornately fashioned knife streaked in for a blow to its throat.
Thalion was still pacing fast, occasionally leaping over large gaps in the boughs, hearing quite clearly where the Stag was heading. At a critical moment, the great beast had stumbled or paused in confusion. This was all the chance the Elf needed; taking a few more large strides, Thalion dropped through a suitable gap and seared toward the ground, sword in hand, the beast growing from a tiny creature to encompass his whole vision. One deft slash at the swiftly listing Stag allowed for the briefest slash at the hind quarters, drawing a thin stream of blood as its upper flank was caught. resting for a second on bent knees, Thalion looked up to locate Tenebrae.
Tenebrae's chance came below the Ancient tree's shadow, when a fallen oak almost large enough to challenge that vasty elder itself gave the stag a moment's challenge-- as it leapt, delicate forehooves lifting in an attempt to leap the obstacle, and she found her chance for aim. With a shoulder-wrenching thrust sent her spear hurtling toward the quarry. With a loud cry, the stag threw back its head in agony, spear hanging like a matador's weapon from its flank, rich red staining the glaucous perfection of its hide, abruptly Samael swung down to land upon the beast. Stunned, eyes vapid momentarily on the beast's erstwhile rider, the ornate dagger's twin was lifted from her belt, and she'd circle the pair with caution, only to find Thalion there, a sudden presence that had the beast stagger not only under the weight of the big man buckling it legs, but a sword wound as well.
Samael was thrown from the beast's bucking back, releasing the deeply rooted blade before tumbling a length of the terrain. Cushioning most of the blow with his shoulder, he rolled forward and landed to his feet, careening away from the wounded stag.
Thalion looked up and grinned at Tenebrae, confident that each party had done their job. It now seemed to rest upon one of them to finish the beast. From his relaxed stance, it would appear that Thalion would leave this honour to one of the others, being but a late invitation to the task.
Tenebrae flashed in from behind the creature's shoulder, the cruel dagger plunged to sever its carotid, she hoped. But the blade slipped, though arterial spray flooded forth, the blade twisted out of her hand when the stag wheeled to face her, dying and fighting its last, to lower its head as if in gracious bow, and caught her up like a ragdoll on the sharp branches of its rack. Her cry shattered the forest's quiet, and her body fell with a thud to the earth.
Samael turned around slowly, his dark countenance drawn into lines of fury that wouldn't seem to reflect his sentiment toward the focus of that stare; the stag who now struggled to its feet despite ruined hindquarters. He clutched onto his staff, jerking it from its makeshift strap and holding it to bear. A look was given Tenebrae's way, a brief inquiry.
Thalion rushed suddenly forward, seeing Tenebrae fall, bearing his sword in battle stance. Standing over her wounded body, Thalion guarded her, staring down the Stag as it howled and snorted in pain. The High Elf flashed a look at Samael, urging him to finish it quickly.
Samael took off in a forward run, rearing the heavy club over head as he advanced the stag. Upon reaching the flailing beast, he drove one foot into the earth, halting his charge and planting to transfer momentum into his swing. Accompanied by the warrior's yawp, that crudely hewn branch of wood cracked into the side of the deer's skull.
Tenebrae's breath, unnecessary as it was the bulk of her kind, was a rattle in her throat as blood was sucked into her punctured lung. Though the pain was agonising, all that occupied her mind was the knowledge that to lose breath was to fail to feed the heart thudding in her chest, and that to still it was to give her true death, and that this would make her no better than the lowest revenant. So she fought to keep breathing, despite the wracking jags that tore through her with every bubbled inhalation, and with glazed eyes turned to the Elf standing over her, wiped a spill of sanguine from her lips with the back of a shaking hand.
Samael 's blow had been sufficient in carrying out the cause. The sight of the great stag toppling to its side might have raised awe, though it raised its forelimbs in a desperate attempt to maintain balance.
Samael slammed his foot down onto the stag's throat and lifted his club over head, closing his eyes and whispering foreign phrases, a prayer likely, under breath. When the club's weighted head crashed down onto the buck's skull, that was all she wrote. The ensuing crack assured the thick cranium had split, and the gradual twitches that proceeded along its muscular frame ensured that it was dead.
Thalion watches Samael continue the fight with the gargantuan creature and trusts the brutal Human to finish the job to a satisfactory standard without further trouble. The High Elf sheaths his sword in one swift motion and bends down onto one knee, surveying the battered and broken body of the vampire. Meeting her eyes and peering deep into them, he could see that she may not live if she did not receive attention straight away. A strange compassion came over him, despite barely knowing the woman and not approving of her evil tendencies and high opinions. "What do you need?" was all that Thalion could think to ask.
Tenebrae was hardly fit for conversation, but with her face screwed up into a mask of pain pulled up the hem of her bodice to reveal the puncture, white of rib showing where the flesh was sheared away and bone had broken inward to rupture her lung. Back arcing to keep the wound in sight as long as she could, she'd shudder, let her garment fall into place and drop her arm, exhausted with the effort.
Samael , unlike Thalion, couldn't spare Tenebrae any attention at the moment. Perhaps he thought that the elf would see to the matter, perhaps not, but from the somber expression that replaced all ferocity in his black features, he appeared to be mourning the fallen stag. He laid his club down on the dirt, freeing his hands so that he could press both palms to the creature's snowy hide. In the midst of the forest, the silence broken only by Tenebrae's labored breaths, he closed his eyes and hovered inertly over the kill.
Thalion barely needed to look at the wound for more than a moment for him to know that it was near fatal and that her lungs were all but destroyed, inside and out. A mortal would never have survived such a wound and it was miraculous that she had. Knowing little of Vampiric physiology or treatment, there was only one thing that he could think of, though he was hesitant to the point of distraction. He slowly drew up his trouser leg, removing a slender Elven blade and removed his mithril braces to expose his pale wrist. Peering into those dimming green eyes, Thalion gave a questioning look: should I, shouldn't I?
Tenebrae might have wondered at the stranger's self-sacrificing action were she not desperate and were Death not circling her heart like a black moth battering a candleflame's guttering flicker. She did not hesitate to grasp the offered wrist, though her grip was not as vise-like as it might have been, and bite down hard, sparing him the effort of opening a vein. There, she'd drink until he might dislodge her, her heart fluttering like a hawk trapped in a too-small cage, and grope beneath her garment to slide her fingers to the wound, slippery bone grasped, lost, grasped again and yanked clear of the hole it'd made. She'd heal-- and death was the least of her worries. If only that living heart kept beating, hell was at bay and all would be well, in time.
Samael rose to his feet after taking his club from the dirt. He was nodding to the deer as though acknowledging some unheard last words, a feral demand for legacy. Of course, one would have to see things as the warrior did to make such an assumption. His features were set in grim seriousness as he came to stand beside Thalion, peering down at the wounded and drinking Tenebrae.
Thalion realised it was a silly question really, as he felt the desperately weak grip for someone of her power and the sharp needles of her teeth plunging into his flawless skin. A sharp intake of breath and perhaps a giddy feeling for a few seconds as the first gushes flooded into her mouth, making him wonder for a moment what on earth he was doing. but then, the strangest sensation of being lifted up, light as a feather into the air, though knowing they were firmly planted on the ground, and a sudden sense of calm; almost pleasure as his very essences was drained slowly away. Despite knowing the dangers, he allowed the Vampiress to continue, feeling somehow closer to her in their life-giving embrace, and suddenly realising that he was holding her in his arms, making a strange scene to those not in the know.
Samael lowered his hand to Thalion's shoulder and gave a firm squeeze, shaking him, hopefully, from his stupor. In a low, almost inaudible whisper, he reminded, "Wake up."
Tenebrae's lips remained locked over elf's wrist, cheeks sucked hollow from the effort of drawing his essence into flesh that was rapid to heal but coagulating slowly over the deep wound. She would not feel arms wrapping her, not hear the human's rumbling voice for words-- it was only a sound, a dull buzz below the double-thud of her heart that did not skip and flag as it had minutes ago. Too, her breath would come easier now the hole was clotted and the rent knitted thinly over the site. Really, she was only making up for what she'd lost, and sating a hunger sharpened by the sight of a drunk's blood, back at the tavern.
Thalion heard the distant call of Samael through his misty mind, dimmed by the loss of his life-force and oblivious to all but the drifting feeling of happiness that had come over him. the sudden shaking motion had the desired affect on the Elf though, as he broke from his dreamlike illusion and felt the pain of the teeth, the uncomfortable sensation of the blood being drawn and a sudden insatiable thirst. Tenebrae's strength was obviously several times greater than before and her general health was much improved, so the Elf began to remove her strong grip, almost prying her head away from the wound in his wrist. Having finally broken free, Thalion fell back and allowed himself to breathe deeply, and reach for the waybread and spring water he always kept with him. Now would be a very good time for them, as he had probably allowed her to take a little too much. He looked back at her now to see what condition she was in.
Samael turned away from the pair, dragging his club against the soft earth as he stepped toward a particularly thick growth of flora. The warrior's deep blue eyes were scanning the inner forest.
Tenebrae fell back to the forest floor once her bite was dislodged, gulping air like a landed fish. Fallen leaves and twigs nestled in her hair, she would writhe, fighting the urge to rise up and rend a throat, fill herself to gravidness, glut on the life until it fled, a wayward spark blustered into a chimney to extinguish itself in the dark. Milk-hued limbs writhed, sound breaking over her lips, until she rolled, curled for a moment against the complaint of still-healing flesh, and came to rest on all fours. Through blowsened locks, peridot eyes peered ice-green, hard and cold, flitting from prey to prey, but would soften as that prey became a man, and another man, and recognition burst upon her mind. "Th..." Rocking back into a kneel, she attempted it again. "Thank.. you." This, to her benefactor, only a haunted glance to Samael's turned back, and the corpse of the stag lying still, its hide blooming red on white, like poppies strewn on a bridal sheet.
Thalion was by this point gulping down mouthfuls of cool water and chewing small chunks of waybread, attempting to regain some strength and composure. The hunt was nothing compared to saving the life of this dark one; something he still only half guessed as to why he'd done, or didn't yet dare to admit. He merely nodded in response, the perspiration laying thick on his forehead and still sprawled in a very undignified fashion on the floor. Gathering some voice, he eventually replied, "You are most welcome, my lady." before laying his head back down to allow the dizziness to subside.
Samael said, "The stag is dead. His body will build the strength of many." He turned back to face the two, his eyes passing from Thalion to Tenebrae, "In the fight for his life, he did not destroy you. Close. That is a good death." he would pause before offering the vampiress a short-lived smile, "And a good life."
Thalion remained still on the ground, keen to recover some more strength before arising again, "I agree," the Elf replied in a hushed tone, "He certainly made it difficult for all of us. It was a good hunt and a worthy adversary."
Tenebrae heard Samael's speech as she traversed the debris of the forest to bring herself near the Elf. The dark man's eyes held a strange comfort, even moreso than his words, and she nodded her agreement. "Close. A good fight." Which was about all she had breath for, before a blood-crusted palm would rest tentatively on Thalion's arm, if he allowed it. And if he opened those eyes, green as her own, if a different shade, he'd see a different woman altogether from the harsh and canny broad he'd found tossing rocks at men in Kelay. For a moment, she was not Tenebrae-the-infamous, the haughty and cruel. Who she was, below that moniker and the monster that had inspired it-- well, that was something he might find out another day. "Y'alright?"
Thalion felt the cold touch of the woman's hand upon his arm and he wondered at the action, whether out of kindness or concern, he couldn't be sure. He opened his eyes and gazed into hers, seeing the shine returned to them once more and smiled. He placed his own hand upon hers, if she in turn would allow it, then simply replied, "I will be fine, given time." He was glad that she was alive and well, though only just beginning to realise why, as he would have not given it any thought a mere few hours ago.
Samael suddenly took off into the forest, loping like a feral cat through the bushes. He'd knock all growth aside with his club or he'd simply let it slap against his dark flesh. Either way, he was gone without a trace in moments.
She might have spoken, had not her large companion gone bounding off into the trees so abruptly, the crashing of his form through branch and bush drawing her gaze from where it'd been locked on Thalion's own. Turning back, a moment seemed to have passed, and she withdrew her hand from under his, though not hastily. She kept the frown from her brow, that might have revealed her thoughts, her questioning. Instead, she walked, gingerly and with an arm wrapped across her ribs, toward the hulking carcass of their kill, apparently all business once more. "We'll have to cut it up here. No chance we'll carry this back now."
Thalion did not seem too worried about her departure, although it seemed they had a moment there that was hard to explain. However, her words spurred the High Elf slowly to his feet, feeling a little groggy still, yet not badly affected. He trudged lazily over to the huge dead creature, a mere shadow of its grace in life, with flies already milling busily around the wounds. Taking his sword out, he wondered where to begin and what would be of most worth to Tenebrae and her Inn. He glanced towards her, a little unsure of what to say, though what he wanted to say needed to be in somewhere not so public and preferably alone. A thought was playing on his mind, vexing him terribly.
Tenebrae knelt, close to where she'd found her fallen knife wedged under one of the stag's legs. The deadly blade was razor-honed, and pierced through the ruined hide easily. As she began to flay the carcass, she hoped there was enough of the skin left unmarked to be a useful product. "We'll take the haunch, the good cuts along the ribs and back, and the head. The forest can have the rest." She hated waste, moreso when the creature whose meat she wasted had almost made her ample supper for wolves and foxes. But things were what they were. Hurrying, she soon had a decent portion of the deer skun, and ready for butchering.
Tenebrae said to Thalion, "Something bothering you, pet?" She'd noted his hesitancy. "If you don't mind saying, that is."
Thalion proceeded to deftly slice through tendon, flesh and cartilage and form easily transported cuts, keeping as close to the bone as his surgically crafted sword allowed, often leaving nought but bone. he wasn't entirely sure what to say in response to the question, just a strange sensation that he had rarely shared with anyone else, let alone a perfect stranger, "I'm not sure," was all he replied, "Perhaps we might talk later, when my thoughts are clearer?" he suggested, secretly burning to discuss something intangible and just beyond the reach of his understanding. Perhaps it was some preternatural effect on him? Perhaps the shock hadn't worn off? Either way, he returned to the task, "I could call the wood elves to help. It would be a simple matter and they would help to carry much of it."
Tenebrae just nodded quietly to his first statement, her eyes holding her own questions in silence, but spoke her assent to the second, which solved the problem of transporting the kill back to town. "If they could bring it to that old house on Kelay road, I can send word for my men in Vailkrin.." It wasn't quite a smile she gave him, then, not quite. "Dark elves nearby, and worse, in my own land, Don't want to bring yourself, or your people there, I dare say." Though she really knew little about his race, she did know of the eternal enmity that existed between forest and Underdark. "And I suppose..." The curve of her mouth was less stringent, this time. "I should like to know what to call you."
Thalion felt the tension between them was almost palpable, but knew that they would both fare better after some rest. Perhaps it would even bring some sanity back, as it had been an unusual afternoon. He returned his attention to her again, "I know, the wood elves have had their eye on you for over an hour now." he indicated a tree to the left and a tree to the rear and above them, "They probably felt that I was keeping you in check, or were simply curious of us being here. they will come and see me once you leave, which I fear you should do, for your wounds look dreadful still. I'm worried ab..." he caught himself short there and didn't continue, knowing full well what he was going to say. "Don't worry about the carcass, we shall deliver it to the house for you, and your men can collect it later. perhaps I should stay and make sure it remains there, if I may? I have no home here yet and stay mostly at the various Inns." he asked in a roundabout way, he wasn't too concerned about where he slept, outside or in.
Thalion said, "And my name is Thalion. At your service."
Tenebrae cast her gaze to the trees, frowning. Habitual hypervigilance left her wary to the point of paranoid at times, though not often wrongly so, but she was well out of her element here, and not so the host that had followed the hunting party undetected. Her eyes returning to the Elf at hand. "Thalion..." She could not help repeating the sound, nor the slight shudder that spidered along her spine. "Well met, I suppose. And yes, feel free to stay at the house." Most generous seeing as it wasn't hers to offer. "There's a nice loft upstairs, not too closed in. And..." Her dagger retrieved, and housed back in its sheath, she'd gain his side. One palm was raised to cup his jaw, just a brief chill touch. "Thankyou again." And then she'd turn back to the west, soon only another shadow flitting through the evening trees.
Thalion watched her disappear into the trees, a hand raising to where her hand lay, and remained silent with his thoughts.