Legends of Belariath

L`aquera

Whispered Manipulation of Wonder

Disturbed, a rush of silk, the flickering of dark material over darker flesh. The tightening of breasts to swell and sway within the entrapment of clothing. Shiver seen as silvers skimmed to a set of wide shoulders hiding among sheets and fur coverings. A brush of fingers and the softest of smiles to plush lips and the words mouthed of "I love you.." before the illusion of control was dropped and legs swung from the bed. A padding of bare feet out of the room to the stairs and down them, curious look over the guards on duty before they were bypassed and silk seemed to reach out and caress along their legs encased in leather and steel.

Something had drawn the bitch from a restless slumber, the call of another, an awakening of chaotic embarrassed need.

Outside and circling a moment, still listening with the twitch of a pointed ear, the feel of the winds and the thrash of leaves at her feet before she moved towards the gates and threw them open, ignoring the other Guards on duty and skimming past like a haunting black dream whispering over the ground as if it were barely touched.

"Where's she going?"

"Yeah, like I know. Why don't you ask her?"

"Right. Hell with that, damned bitch is touchy."

Soft chuckles carried on the cool winds and slithered about those ears again but she never looked back nor cared what the men were speaking of as that whisper tickled and prodded her to continue moving. West was chosen, feet cold and barely felt but she ignored it until the swamps were reached and the low growling of the beasts they'd raised was heard and recognized. Jhore. Wild? Yes and no. She'd set a few free in the swamps with plenty of warning signs surrounding the place that the dark elf simply ignored right now, choosing a log ridden path to travel and move deeper into the muck of this world, hearing it sucking at soles and caring even less to fall into it.

The thrash of a tail to ground, shaking it, a nimble twist of a lithe frame and the loss of dark material caught in grungy teeth that chomped away at it as if it were a prize. If she didn't snap out of this daze she'd get eaten by pets she'd helped hatch and raise.

No weapon, no armor, just that fine gauzy silk clinging to every curve, sweeping around legs and between them to create the oddest sensation of friction against a wedding ring.

Cut of hues to the North West area... the sun was rising and she was still here, still searching as that niggling demanding voice kept pushing her onwards. Jhore following, looking for an easy meal and now and again distracted by the Goblins that were as well soon lost as she continued, dredge coating along the bottom of that robe she'd let flow around her as some odd form of protection. Where was it? What was she poking about for? When would Kirva stop pushing and pushing?

Never.

There...

Silvers fell upon the root infested hole that probably only one of her size could fit through except, she was going to get muddy, like it or not. She didn't like it. The feel of its slim ridden coldness made her shiver, felt it lump within locks of flame and weigh it down, tickle at the backs of legs and make her itch until the earth suddenly gave way and spilled her like a pot poured of hot steaming water. A slide of natural origins and she couldn't stop the fall. No scream. No noise but her body sluicing along until the earth and rocks beneath cut into bare feat and tumbled her into a heap to the bottom.

Wind was lost from lungs and fingers clawed for rocks to haul that body upwards to a more sitting position, several scrapes had torn at lovely ebon flesh and stung with the added coating of mud and torn branches on the way down... This wasn't dignified.

--------------------

... dark and dank, as one would expect a swamp that surrounded and ate away the lands of trees and fields. Another slippery grasp of fingers to sharp rocks and bare feet were finally under a lithe body. Supporting but slipping now and again just by standing here.

No light needed for a moriels eyes were unique, able to see even in the pitch stark blackness and picking out shapes, objects to features easily. A twist of that upper torso and silver pools were scanning the area she'd fallen into, bugs crawling everywhere and it gave her a shudder of revulsion to see them. Yet that niggling and prodding into a jutting ear had her turning to the right, searching and finding the small opening there and ducking to fit through it. Squeezing body and the flare of hip, feeling the earth give way.

Hissing soft and insidious, a snakes coiled form, its reptilian yellow eyes watching her, seeing her frame of warmth quite visible and likely it was just as startled as she should be. Instead the dark elf hissed back and stepped over it, uncaring. They weren't her enemy. Maybe if she got hungry. Internally the woman could tell that day had gone into afternoon above surface, but down here, you'd not likely notice. Not yet.

Slippery, feet used what rocks were there to steady herself on, hands upon curved and rough cut walls as the hole just went deeper and deeper. Almost like home. It smelled of mushrooms left to rot, a hint of water that one could even hear trickling somewhere and the dank muskyness of the earth or caves to intertwine.

A firm grasp of fingers and sharpened nails to sink into earth above her as she ducked once more to fit through a larger gap then the others thus far. Tired and hungry but plowing onwards as that constant whisper lured and demanded. What was down here? Why the demand and interruption of her day and sleep? Its not as if Stormer would worry until she wasn't back for a week, he knew her usual. Yet he might worry, she'd left nothing behind for a note and hadn't stopped to think on one either.

Blasted hells, this place was going nowhere, she had to be deeper then the Temple of Kirva went and still it was going down, around, circling and leaving her back aching a bit at all this crouching, feet sore and lacerated on the many rocks, not that she bothered to look at them to oft. If she looked, it might actually start aggravating.

Another twist and this time the hole was big enough she didn't have to duck, the crunch under foot drawing eyes downwards and a shocked moment drew her breath in fast and that nimble body moving, only to hear more crunching under feet, and feel it. A sickening clench to stomach as her depths picked up the bones of fallen elves. Enemy or friend. Hands waved and her whining began as she hoped from one spot to the next to clear the larger room, noting caverns like honey combs within this place, all littered, weapons scattered. Armor still hanging from their flaking old bones. Nose wrinkled, horror was only a step away and she kept stepping. Trying to avoid the worse parts. Landing on a head here or there until she gave a scream of frustration and just started kicking them out of her path, fire lancing from hands to clear a better path as she picked her way through what had obviously been an old.. old battle ground. Likely moriel and high elf if she guessed sizes and armor correctly.

An annex cave off to her left drew her, fire spouting outwards to clear the path and she ran for it, avoiding grasping gnarled finger like bones reaching for the hem of her robe flowing around her, behind her. Sickening... She nearly tripped on the next body, inhaled deeply only to turn calmly and have a look within.. and trip over the next body until eyes met empty eye sockets and she scrambled upwards..

White was her usual ebon flesh, chest heaving in and out, trying to gain that control over fear that riddled this place as if the war here had never been forgotten.

It took long moment of precious dank air dragged into lungs to let her eyes start picking out objects and bodies once more.. and something niggled and pressed, making her tune those senses higher.. and actually look at the body she'd come face to face with. Look at them all. The cut of armor was different, their weapons, unusual. Serrated and some certainly custom made. Some with jewels, others plain but deadly and finally she began picking each one up, collecting in a morbid way until fingers brushed against a body that seemed to glow of its own accord.

"Magic..."

Down to her knees, silver eyes upon the glow of the arm and specificly what its gnarled bony fingers were grasping. The pommel was wrapped red leather, still intact. Wings like a dragons folded seemed to cover what she could see until she took in some added courage and reached for it, yanking it from the hold of its dead Master.. or Mistress... its not as if she could tell the gender from its state.

Shudder raced and she backed off, scraping knees in the process until she could find a spot not littered with bones to examine her prize. It did glow.. a faint glow none the less.. but it did glow.. Holding it up for a better look, she'd been right the first time. Leather did encompass the long pommel, twisted and almost ugly but there it seemed to give way to more leather like flaps that covered the object. It couldn't be more then a few feet in length, maybe less. Less she'd guess, but the leather like red wings around it, coiled over the thing itself. Making it impossible to tell what kind of weapon.

Fingers pried and pulled but it refused to release and her frustration was showing as the hours passed by and the surface was one more becoming plunged in darkness.

Muttering something foul, she actually went back to the body, rolling it over and searching everywhere. Coins were found, belts, expensive jewelry a male would wear, but nothing that would gain her any leverage in making the weapon open up its odd wing like covering.

"Alright Kirva.. Very funny. Ha ha! See! I'm laughing. Now what the hell is it!"

She screamed it out, anger now a large part of that diminutive bitch, she was down in the depths, miles and miles below the surface, standing in an anti-chamber full of disgusting bodies and the clawing sounds of rodents with a magical weapon she couldn't get to open. That's just peachy. She was filthy, cold and hungry and lacking more then just sleep. Yeah, this was real funny.

Clenching fingers about the weapon, they burst into flames so angry, she'd rather burn it to cinders and go home and take a bath then sit down here any longer, bitching at a Goddess that never answered anyway.

The subtle shift of leather, the sound of a puff of wind and the wings that had been so wrapped about the weapon she couldn't pry it off, flared wide, seemed to catch on fire and then went crawled their way about her hand, gripping about delicate wrist as if it had found.. home. The revelation was both disgusting and curious, the weapon revealed like one of her own mithril sais, perhaps longer however and the forks were sharply pointed, smaller, drawn in closer to the long thin blade that held no sharp edge but for that point itself.

"Beautiful..."

the murmured words left plush lips, a twist of wrist to see how heavy and how unwieldy it might be, but it was no heavier then mithril though its shine had lost its way, probably from being down here so long. A flick of wrist to test the viability of using it in battle and the sudden sound of a rat some twelve feet off and knocking down a skeleton close by the wall had her turning sharply, and the weapon... responding. It was an automatic response, a stance long took of trusting no one or anything around her, a strike out.. but the blade responded just as she did. Bursting into flame and lashing out.. out.. twelve feet it slammed, caught on fire and lashed through the rat, leaving it a smoldering heap cut in half..

Stunned silence as the blade snapped back to its original size, still dancing in its flames... and silver eyes were on it. Starring. Jaw dropped.

"Oh I can't wait for Stormer to see this.."

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Triumph was written so easily upon refined features, a long sai like weapon held aloft and a battle cry of victory set free. The odd part was, her audience of the dead, didn't care. They were dead. Silvers that had held aloft upon the weapons she'd found and scraped for and puzzled over, now moved to the skeletons that littered the floor of the many interlinking caves, bare foot shoving into the closest until she yanked it back, squeamish at the result of feeling brittle bone on sole of foot.

Disgusting..

"Hey you! Aren't you going to cheer or something? No? Fine then, just lay there."

Brief smile upon plush lips and the weapon so held aloft, the fire running its length, snuffed out and the red leather wings uncoiled from wrist and slithered their way about the whole of the weapon once more, encasing it like some morbid dream in the wings of a dragon. A thorough investigation of its length told its own story, a few inches, nothing more longer then her own mithril and blackened sais, should have made it more unwieldy and yet, it was alright and felt like home within the palm of her hand. That it could lash out, uncoil and catch fire like her own flame whip spell was what intrigued her the most. Now, seriously just how long could this thing get?

That was the question begging an answer. Twelve feet was noted for the first time around but if it could lash out further, now then it would be more then useful. A flying opponent would no longer be so worrisome and in all actuality she wouldn't have to get in so close to her enemy either, able to cast those long range spells and stay out of reach. An ideal situation and one she'd have to study with for a time to find out. And also note just what kind of damage it could do, to a human sized victim.

The rat hadn't been tiny, but not exactly dog sized either so the notion was left to the winds right now of its capability. It would take time and practice no doubt.

She stood silent for a moment, realizing she'd have to scrape her way out of this place holding onto the object itself and of course, that would hinder the time of getting out. Lovely. She wasn't leaving it behind however and running home to get something to help hold it to her body, instead she leaned on down to the body it had been found on and yanked on the old leather belt worn, shuddering at the grotesque action of stealing once more, from the dead. Well.. he was dead. What did he care?

Shaking dust off the thing, she gave it a good snap and had to wrap the belt nearly three times around her own waist before she could actually just tie it off in a knot to keep it there. Not exactly attractive, it'll do. The weapon was slid between belt and flimsy robe that covered hot flesh and she gave it a tug here and there to make sure it was secure.

Now of course, the only thing left to do was get the fardon hell out of here. Yeah, that ought to be fun. By now the sun was going down overhead in the world above her and she was already starving as two days had gone by, no sleep, no food, and her feet were killing her. Murmured words of anger and she set off at a more determined known path..

It was nearly dawn however, despite remembering the way out, that the moriel emerged upon the surface world, a triumphant fist raised and a yell that was suddenly returned by a low growling and a thrash of a heavy ball like tail into ground not more then twenty feet away. Silvers turned, encountered the slitted green pools of a rather small jhore and the word that dropped from her lips was anything but calm and polite.

"Fardon hell with it.."

It charged and flames leaped, slamming into the beast and steering it to the far right, but when she called up those fires again, all she got was a sputtering attempt and the realization that lack of sleep and food, had suddenly called her spell casting to a halt. Fine! Lets see how well this weapon worked. Blasted fardon beasts. Whose fardon idea had it been to keep these ugly foul beasts around?

Oh.. yeah.. it had been hers. Guess she would be eating the words she'd said to Christolf not so very long ago.

Fingers wrapped about the pommel of her new found weapon, drew it out and she called up the flames to coil and wrap there. Leather like wings unwrapped from about the weapon and then crawled over her hand to that wrist where they wrapped tightly, holding warmly, an assuring feel in this odd situation she found herself in. Now.. lets see what it can do.

The Jhore had dug in its taloned feet to muck and sod, dragged its large body around and it let off that low sounding vibrating growl that just gave her the wily's. Here it comes...

Its charge was the whomping sounding gait it always used, the weapon cracked out, extended and then burst into flames and continued to extended itself, past twelve, past fifteen feet, it kept reaching until the creature still charging and closing the distance was suddenly lashed into, a deep gash cracking, searing past scales nearly as tough as mithril and sizzling into the flesh of the Jhore until its cry of pain saw the creature trying to drag its path around.. and it crashed into a nearby out growth of small trees and simply lay there. Stunned.

So was she...

Holy hells.. It wasn't dead, but she wasn't going to go find out how alive it still was and instead began to jog a path for the closest way out of this muck world of cold and clinging watery mud. She wanted to go home. Get a bath and then wonder about this weapon...

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Within the Palace Stormbringer watched his mate come to him. An eyebrow or two raised with an over-exaggerated look of surprise that was almost mocking as the Moriel stumbled into the room where Stormbringer was sitting. In their time together he had certainly become used to his mate's escapades, so if there were any true surprise it was perhaps that she didn't have any part of her body seriously damaged.

Bedraggled she certainly was though. Hair tangled and carrying at least a few twigs as decoration, clothing rent in a few places to display even more of that silky ebon flesh than usual, proud breasts heaving with exertion. If it wasn't for the twigs and grime, the overall appearance could easily have passed for how she looked after he had been using her for hours in their playroom. Certainly the expression on her face bore a similar combination of exhaustion and exultation.

So at least nothing bad had happened to her. He could relax again and take a more than cursory look at the woman. Even in that disheveled state she was worth it. While she stood there catching her breath, the emperor's eyes roamed once again over his woman, taking in the exotically beautiful face before moving south to those twin hillocks he so enjoyed owning and which bore the markings of that ownership so attractively. Lingering there a moment... he always did, even after several years; the nipples seemed unusually prominent today. Then the realization of that unaccustomed belt which was drawing her clothing tighter over the twin peaks and causing the effect he had started to enjoy staring at.

It hardly suited the dark elf, that belt; hardly matched her usual refined taste in clothing. But then it was also serving a purpose, holding what was obviously a scabbarded weapon of some sort. Pale blue eyes narrowed and Stormbringer's focus became suddenly much more intense than the previously casual appraisal of his mate. He knew that weapon. Brow furrowed slightly in concentration as his mind flowed back over uncounted years and a figure swam into focus; a figure from long, long ago.

Another elf stood before him in his mind, the clothing archaic, the hall in which they met so old it had crumbled to dust by age and the ravages of wars long forgotten. But there was that same scabbard, hanging from a slim elven waist and supported by a fine mithril chain belt. A shadow flittered across the emperor's face but his voice was steady enough when his eyes rose again to meet those excited silver orbs.

"Maybe you should take a bath my dear. Even an uncouth barbarian such as myself wouldn't touch you in such a state." The tone was his usual self-deprecating banter but it unconsciously dropped when he continued. "And when you come back, I'll tell you a story...."

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Proud was that lift of sharp chin, silvers watching the expression on her mates face and the words that left firm lips. A brief touch of a smile and she adjusted that oversized belt and turned on her heel to slither off for the bath chamber. Already orders were shouted, water heated, even though she could do it a lot faster then they could.

Robe hit the floor just outside that doorway, nose wrinkling up at the sight of her bare feet so cut up but perhaps it had all been worth it.

The odd covered weapon was set on the edge of that tub, refusing to let it out of her sight until she knew all about it. It was rare a mage could handle themselves in a combat situation that had nothing to do with magic, she'd trained herself in it however, and although the muscles weren't exactly there, most had to hard of time actually hitting her and she could get in more then a shot, or two.

Now, perhaps this weapon would aide a great deal in that. Indeed, she was assuming less then its actual potential but all good things take time and once that body sunk deep into water and hair was scrubbed at vigorously..

... she had a feeling all would be revealed sooner, then later. Seriously though, how dare that male turn his nose up at her and tell her she needed a bath. She'd known that, but by the Goddess below he could get haughty! And they thought she was bad. Hmph...

No wonder the two worked well together.

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