"No, but good guess." Amal remarked casually, one long arm resting on the back cushion as his hand swilled the bottle gently in a small circle. "I left after a few months, and sailed up the sword coast. I had the idea to be a pirate, or a knife for hire. I took a few jobs, and then my memory fades after that..."

Amal briefly tried to force back the memories, but as usual they would not come. His mind then switched to Charynrae's other words, two things have piqued his interest. Underdark bookworms were something he was unsure of. The Underdark itself was a mystery to him, he had been genuinely curious as they trekked through the snow and moors, but had little time to ponder when they weren't merely trying to survive.

Truth be told, his eyes had glanced at her more than a few times, particularly as she undressed. But there was something about her fixing her hair that was nice to watch. Something simple, but she made it seem so elegant. It had been her first words, before he began his tale, that were on his mind. "I have never met a dark elf before you. I am not used to your skills, but if you are someone's lover, are you able to read their mind or spy lies?" He felt that would be hopelessly boring. Not because lying was something warranted in a relationship, but even playful jests could be seen through immediately.

Generally Amal spoke with stilted common, his mouth less used to languages not calishite. It made his smirking, teasing remarks that much stranger. However, here he sounded genuine.

"And what might I do to hear of these bookworms?"

Char was quiet for a moment, pondering his question as she took a drink, relishing in the pleasant burn. “Is that a common belief? That we can read our bedmate’s minds?” she finally said with a laugh. “No, we can do nothing of the sort. Although… you do know the drow have no word for love? And so lovers as you might think of them don’t really exist for us.”

It had been quite the shock when she discovered the approach of surface-dwellers to interpersonal relationships. She had known they were different from the drow, but the absurd amount of trust that was just freely given boggled the mind.

“Well, seeing as you have already told me a story… up here, I am told a bookworm is an endearing term for someone who is always reading. In the Underdark, it is… well, being called a bookworm would be a source of pride and of fury. You see, just like up here, noble families in the Underdark often keep libraries and treasure their contents. Well, as much as a drow can treasure anything.” Her voice was haughty as ever, the disdain for her own kind dripping from the word.

“So, sometimes you want to *hurt* someone, but you don’t want to deal with any immediate consequences, yes?” she said, nonchalant and yet… gleeful as she described the destructive creatures. “So you could simply obtain a few bookworms, unleash them in the library while on a visit to a rival house, and destroy an entire collection before anyone notices. Not only do they multiply quite quickly once they have a source of food, some varieties excrete acid after ingesting enough ink and result in damage to other fixtures as they seek out more books.”

She took a swig from her bottle and paused for a moment in thought. “You could still be caught, of course, if they were seen before arriving at the target, or if there had been no other visitors in some time, but it was quite easy to get away with. Needless to say, they could be difficult to obtain.”

Amal gave a smile that showed his teeth. It gave him a handsome, if feral look. "Well, you don't need love to be a lover, but I can see your point. Your word choice just confused me, I think." He wondered if she had known that surface-dwellers also had bedfellows. It was usually Amal's experience, truth be to the gods. He reclined, however, and listened to Char's story, surprised and pleased she was so ready to share. He thought he would have to wait.

He found himself smiling again as she spoke, particularly when he heard the inflection in her voice, her arrogant disdain so venomous he could feel it in his veins. There was something about her when she became animated that was incredibly attractive. He began to think it was just the thrill of seeing another side of her, which caused him to realize he already enjoyed her general cool demeanor. And then when she was horribly gleeful, he was enthralled. He found he was interested in the story, you could see it on his face. He laughed when she described the destruction and the idiosyncrasies of the horrific literature devouring creatures.

"How difficult?" Amal asked, a sly look on his face, rubbing his well-formed chin. "Are they valuable?..."

He took a swig of his drink, a single bubble floating up its neck as he gulped twice before he dropped the bottle, and he scooted closer. It was almost imperceptible, a smooth movement that was as natural as breathing. "How much would you be willing to pay to get one? Perhaps, I could steal one for you?" He grinned, giving a subtle wink. "I would not usually offer, but I find I have a thing for pretty drow that help me escape a lich's dungeon. You don't find that everywhere."