Lady Nex
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Liz listened without so much as a wavering look, hovering where she was, leaning against the doorframe like a statue. She had heard variations of the story, and each time she heard it she wondered if she was closer to or farther from the truth. Her eyes followed him as he cleaned, though the visual observations were nothing more than absentminded. Her attention was on the topic more directly.
Eventually the woman shifted, pushing away from the doorframe and straightening as she paced inside. "I wasn't just taught. I was born with it." She moved toward the nearest piece of furniture she could lean back against, almost sitting on its surface if she could manage it. "When I was a little girl, I would beg my brother to play the simplest of games. We were six years apart, so it was often my childish games irritated him... or bored him outright. Hide and seek is where I truly shined, or perhaps I should say I didn't shine. Quite the opposite really." She smiled a touch, almost wistful. "He would search for hours at times, refusing to give up too easily. I was never far from him. I simply had this uncanny gift for stepping into the shadows, so smoothly I hovered between realms. Some complain that the shadows are a maddening place. Too quiet, too eerie, too omnipresent. By the time I was seven I saw them just as a child might view a security blanket. They were my comfort. My home."
She pursed her lips, her arms unfolding so she could reach for the flask hidden under her cloak. She unscrewed the cap thoughtfully. "I was raised on a slightly different story, and it was of course more vague. Our focus was so heavily placed on the god that granted us our unique abilities... we didn't call her Lumina. We called her Aethia. Most often her name, regardless of whether it was accurate or not, was spoken with contempt."
She paused to take a long drink, fidgeting with the flask as it came away from her lips. "Our people believed we were cursed by her, believed our constant misfortune was a result of our nature. Wolves are nocturnal. For millennia our people worshiped our wolf god, and as such we held a unique respect for the shadows. Very few were gifted with the ability to work shadow magic...very, very few. The more our people leaned into the shadows, however, the less we were concerned about the concept of perfect order. We were humans, originally. Creations of Aethia--Lumina as you call her. The belief was that upon accepting our gift and becoming the nocturnal 'beasts' we are portrayed as, Aethia saw it as a betrayal."
An almost bitter laugh escaped, a quiet hum rising afterward. "You'd expect with the Light turning its back on us, our people would turn toward Erebus more heavily. Even then, their focus was largely on the wolf deity. The Magna Lyceum. Some believed the 'Great Wolf' was simply a manifestation of the greater deities. Most didn't. An even smaller few believed it was a hierarchy, that Erebus was above this wolf god we worshipped. I was among the small population that looked to Erebus for comfort...but of course, from a young age his realm felt more like home than my own did. He may be in hiding, but he is still worthy of prayer."
She was quiet for a few moments, perhaps reflecting on the piece of herself she had offered in her response. Ebony locks hid her face for a moment or two as she turned her head to dig out a cigarette, though she didn't yet light it. She simply rolled the little smokable between her fingers. "The few of us that did turn to Erebus had something we considered to be the equivalent of what the humans deemed holy water, though ours was called shadow oil. The herbs I use in my blend are dipped in this oil. They offer a sense of tranquility..of calm. A disconnect when it is most needed. The effect seems to shift based on the need of the consumer at the time. You should stick your nose in the air less and try one sometime."
A faint smirk lingered as she brought it to her lips, and though the tip flared to life he'd note she was kind enough to utilize magic and ensure the second hand smoke didn't taint the air. It simply furled up and dissipated into wisps of shadow. It was scentless now, because she willed it, and no cloud hung in the air to irritate the elf. "If anyone can teach an individual to harness their power to its full extent in rapid fashion, it's you, Thortan. We will be ready when the humans return. More than ready, I would even dare to say."
Eventually the woman shifted, pushing away from the doorframe and straightening as she paced inside. "I wasn't just taught. I was born with it." She moved toward the nearest piece of furniture she could lean back against, almost sitting on its surface if she could manage it. "When I was a little girl, I would beg my brother to play the simplest of games. We were six years apart, so it was often my childish games irritated him... or bored him outright. Hide and seek is where I truly shined, or perhaps I should say I didn't shine. Quite the opposite really." She smiled a touch, almost wistful. "He would search for hours at times, refusing to give up too easily. I was never far from him. I simply had this uncanny gift for stepping into the shadows, so smoothly I hovered between realms. Some complain that the shadows are a maddening place. Too quiet, too eerie, too omnipresent. By the time I was seven I saw them just as a child might view a security blanket. They were my comfort. My home."
She pursed her lips, her arms unfolding so she could reach for the flask hidden under her cloak. She unscrewed the cap thoughtfully. "I was raised on a slightly different story, and it was of course more vague. Our focus was so heavily placed on the god that granted us our unique abilities... we didn't call her Lumina. We called her Aethia. Most often her name, regardless of whether it was accurate or not, was spoken with contempt."
She paused to take a long drink, fidgeting with the flask as it came away from her lips. "Our people believed we were cursed by her, believed our constant misfortune was a result of our nature. Wolves are nocturnal. For millennia our people worshiped our wolf god, and as such we held a unique respect for the shadows. Very few were gifted with the ability to work shadow magic...very, very few. The more our people leaned into the shadows, however, the less we were concerned about the concept of perfect order. We were humans, originally. Creations of Aethia--Lumina as you call her. The belief was that upon accepting our gift and becoming the nocturnal 'beasts' we are portrayed as, Aethia saw it as a betrayal."
An almost bitter laugh escaped, a quiet hum rising afterward. "You'd expect with the Light turning its back on us, our people would turn toward Erebus more heavily. Even then, their focus was largely on the wolf deity. The Magna Lyceum. Some believed the 'Great Wolf' was simply a manifestation of the greater deities. Most didn't. An even smaller few believed it was a hierarchy, that Erebus was above this wolf god we worshipped. I was among the small population that looked to Erebus for comfort...but of course, from a young age his realm felt more like home than my own did. He may be in hiding, but he is still worthy of prayer."
She was quiet for a few moments, perhaps reflecting on the piece of herself she had offered in her response. Ebony locks hid her face for a moment or two as she turned her head to dig out a cigarette, though she didn't yet light it. She simply rolled the little smokable between her fingers. "The few of us that did turn to Erebus had something we considered to be the equivalent of what the humans deemed holy water, though ours was called shadow oil. The herbs I use in my blend are dipped in this oil. They offer a sense of tranquility..of calm. A disconnect when it is most needed. The effect seems to shift based on the need of the consumer at the time. You should stick your nose in the air less and try one sometime."
A faint smirk lingered as she brought it to her lips, and though the tip flared to life he'd note she was kind enough to utilize magic and ensure the second hand smoke didn't taint the air. It simply furled up and dissipated into wisps of shadow. It was scentless now, because she willed it, and no cloud hung in the air to irritate the elf. "If anyone can teach an individual to harness their power to its full extent in rapid fashion, it's you, Thortan. We will be ready when the humans return. More than ready, I would even dare to say."
As Liz moved through the house there was a mild interest offered to her surroundings, but the prospect of future fights didn't have her wandering the halls and appreciating the upholstery. Sensitive ears caught the sound of a crash, and honed in on the sound of footsteps and paws padding across the floors. Out of habit the woman faded into the shadows, wrapping the magic around her with little effort. It lasted only a few moments before she was visible once more, her head tilted as she listened to the following yells.
She was still too far to make out every word, but the gist of it was gathered at the least. Cursing the fates was something she could understand, it was something she had done on a number of occasions. It was something she had witnessed even the Queen herself doing. There was a moment she could recall one such occasion, a brief time that Thortan had been on the road and in his absence the battle at hand had shifted. The human village nearest the Queen's sight had been consumed by that rage--decimated.
Liz paused as she neared where Thortan was, momentarily unsure if she wanted to bother him at first. She hovered outside for a moment before rounding the corner and heading through the door. She hadn't gone far, hovering just within the doorway and leaning against the frame. She didn't say anything at first, simply hovering as if she were offering support by nothing more than being present.
She was still too far to make out every word, but the gist of it was gathered at the least. Cursing the fates was something she could understand, it was something she had done on a number of occasions. It was something she had witnessed even the Queen herself doing. There was a moment she could recall one such occasion, a brief time that Thortan had been on the road and in his absence the battle at hand had shifted. The human village nearest the Queen's sight had been consumed by that rage--decimated.
Liz paused as she neared where Thortan was, momentarily unsure if she wanted to bother him at first. She hovered outside for a moment before rounding the corner and heading through the door. She hadn't gone far, hovering just within the doorway and leaning against the frame. She didn't say anything at first, simply hovering as if she were offering support by nothing more than being present.
Though a snarky quip had very nearly rolled off her tongue at the sight of the arrow flying through the air, it never quite made it to the point of verbalization. The Lycians had viewed humans as enemies for some time before the war began, and the near ancient feud was nothing short of second nature now. To see them charging so openly toward the house Liz presently inhabited alongside the others made that wolfish blood in her veins boil with rage. There was a near feral snarl that tore from her throat, but rather than charge forward, her form had dissipated into what appeared to be nothing more than black smoke.
The disappearance wasn't without purpose. Throughout the crowd of humans the darkness would condense into her form, a shadowy blade striking out at everything within reach. Her cuts did not need to be precise with generic footsoldiers, they had no defense for the magics she had been taught. Every cut she made resulted in immediate reaction. The shadows that lingered over a wound seemed to slither into the opening, working its way through their target's veins. The black lines that wriggled over their flesh eventually made an appearance in their faces, though it was the heart that truly saw the final blow. As the corruption she fed each body reached that point, it gathered around the organ, withering it away to nothing more than an ashy husk. The men effected fell, bodies pale and tattoed with the woman's chosen 'poison'. They looked as if they had been dead for weeks, each face frozen to bear that death mask.
It was as the battle neared its close that her true brutality shined through. One blade had been discarded, and now the mixture of blade, nail and tooth was utilized. Her very body was an instrument of death and she tore fiendishly at her enemies with little regard for the mess it made or the lack of grace it showed. Every scream, every cry of pain only seemed to fuel the woman more. Once the last of her targets were dead she shifted focus as if nothing had occurred, only the intensity of her gaze offering the clear indication she'd just been ripping her enemies to shreds.
She had taken a moment to retrieve her discarded blade, placing both daggers in the grip of one hand. They would need to be cleaned before they could be put away. She had neared the others, pausing to listen from a distance as Thortan interrogated one of the survivors. A small smile curled her lips. More were coming. Good. They would collectively devour them too.
The moment she was asked to fortify existing protections there was a nod from the woman, and she set her blades down, turning to face the outer perimeter of the property they utilized. There was a moment her eyes were simply closed as she focused on the existing enchantments protecting them, feeling out the boundaries and noting where the reinforcement was needed precisely. Shadows gathered around her as she concentrated, furling and roiling at her feet in such a highly concentrated form it appeared almost as if it were a pool of hot tar bubbling where she stood.
Strands of blackened magics curled up from the 'pool', winding up along her limbs. She raised her arms slowly, and as she did the slow trickle of magic rapidly shifted. It was pouring from her arms, streaming out to taint the air. It darkened the sky briefly, heavy enough that had she concentrated on it she might have been capable of changing day to night in the immediate area. There was a sound in the distance, like an explosion had taken place as her magic collided with Thortan's existing barriers, and it feathered out filling the space behind those existing magical protections until the entirety of it was lined in Liz's shadows. For a few brief minutes the property was cast in darkness, and then as her hands retracted and her arms rested at her sides, the shadows faded from sight. Though they were visibly no more, the fortifications were no weaker.
A faint smirk rested at her lips. She looked forward to watching humans try to run through that. Their deaths would be much like the one she had inflicted upon the men that were unfortunate enough to meet her blade. It would not last forever, but it would certainly spread fear like wildfire. With that, she turned to head inside and find Thortan. Planning for a fight was, after-all, her favorite pastime.
The disappearance wasn't without purpose. Throughout the crowd of humans the darkness would condense into her form, a shadowy blade striking out at everything within reach. Her cuts did not need to be precise with generic footsoldiers, they had no defense for the magics she had been taught. Every cut she made resulted in immediate reaction. The shadows that lingered over a wound seemed to slither into the opening, working its way through their target's veins. The black lines that wriggled over their flesh eventually made an appearance in their faces, though it was the heart that truly saw the final blow. As the corruption she fed each body reached that point, it gathered around the organ, withering it away to nothing more than an ashy husk. The men effected fell, bodies pale and tattoed with the woman's chosen 'poison'. They looked as if they had been dead for weeks, each face frozen to bear that death mask.
It was as the battle neared its close that her true brutality shined through. One blade had been discarded, and now the mixture of blade, nail and tooth was utilized. Her very body was an instrument of death and she tore fiendishly at her enemies with little regard for the mess it made or the lack of grace it showed. Every scream, every cry of pain only seemed to fuel the woman more. Once the last of her targets were dead she shifted focus as if nothing had occurred, only the intensity of her gaze offering the clear indication she'd just been ripping her enemies to shreds.
She had taken a moment to retrieve her discarded blade, placing both daggers in the grip of one hand. They would need to be cleaned before they could be put away. She had neared the others, pausing to listen from a distance as Thortan interrogated one of the survivors. A small smile curled her lips. More were coming. Good. They would collectively devour them too.
The moment she was asked to fortify existing protections there was a nod from the woman, and she set her blades down, turning to face the outer perimeter of the property they utilized. There was a moment her eyes were simply closed as she focused on the existing enchantments protecting them, feeling out the boundaries and noting where the reinforcement was needed precisely. Shadows gathered around her as she concentrated, furling and roiling at her feet in such a highly concentrated form it appeared almost as if it were a pool of hot tar bubbling where she stood.
Strands of blackened magics curled up from the 'pool', winding up along her limbs. She raised her arms slowly, and as she did the slow trickle of magic rapidly shifted. It was pouring from her arms, streaming out to taint the air. It darkened the sky briefly, heavy enough that had she concentrated on it she might have been capable of changing day to night in the immediate area. There was a sound in the distance, like an explosion had taken place as her magic collided with Thortan's existing barriers, and it feathered out filling the space behind those existing magical protections until the entirety of it was lined in Liz's shadows. For a few brief minutes the property was cast in darkness, and then as her hands retracted and her arms rested at her sides, the shadows faded from sight. Though they were visibly no more, the fortifications were no weaker.
A faint smirk rested at her lips. She looked forward to watching humans try to run through that. Their deaths would be much like the one she had inflicted upon the men that were unfortunate enough to meet her blade. It would not last forever, but it would certainly spread fear like wildfire. With that, she turned to head inside and find Thortan. Planning for a fight was, after-all, her favorite pastime.
Even for Liz, it was exceptionally difficult to avoid the contagious laughter bursting from Thortan. Her lips twitched, a smile just barely forming before she cleared her throat. Was there a chuckle hidden in there? Perhaps the woman at this rate was hiding her humor just to irritate the dark elf. Whatever brief essence of amusement lingered in the woman's stature or features faded as they reached the porch. It took Liz less than a split second to recognize the wax seal on the parchment he bore.
She waited as Thortan read, though her gaze was fixated on his features as if she were reading his reaction. As the parchment was passed she took a moment to find her own spot on the letter, head canting as she took in the words. A faint hum rose and the parchment was folded over and returned to Thortan.
"Being discreet is smart, it even further limits the chances of information falling into the wrong hands. Though sometimes I wonder if she isn't being vague about her concerns intentionally for her own good as well. She has been through hell and back, afterall." She paused and then gestured to the parchment. "She also has a point. You do have a way of attracting trouble. Causing it... instigating it. Asking for it."
Her eyes flicked over their surroundings, drawing upward as she peered toward the sky. "Do you have anything other than the wisps protecting this place? Enchantments? Magical barriers? Protections against scrying and such, at the least, I would presume." She looked at him expectantly.
She waited as Thortan read, though her gaze was fixated on his features as if she were reading his reaction. As the parchment was passed she took a moment to find her own spot on the letter, head canting as she took in the words. A faint hum rose and the parchment was folded over and returned to Thortan.
"Being discreet is smart, it even further limits the chances of information falling into the wrong hands. Though sometimes I wonder if she isn't being vague about her concerns intentionally for her own good as well. She has been through hell and back, afterall." She paused and then gestured to the parchment. "She also has a point. You do have a way of attracting trouble. Causing it... instigating it. Asking for it."
Her eyes flicked over their surroundings, drawing upward as she peered toward the sky. "Do you have anything other than the wisps protecting this place? Enchantments? Magical barriers? Protections against scrying and such, at the least, I would presume." She looked at him expectantly.
The mention of when they had first met sent the woman back a second time, though only long enough to recall that initial meeting. Standing in the palace of a foreign kingdom, surrounded by elves she did not know. The tension in her form had likely been palpable that day, moreso than usual. She could imagine herself standing among these graceful beings, twisting icons of shadow, sticking out like a sore thumb as a wolfish, near barbaric Lycian. She was more graceful than her kin, and over time less attention had been offered to that consideration.
The rigid posture, the stoic gaze...that had never changed. Years of training and incessant work had left the woman on guard the majority of her life. If there was one thing people could not question, it was her discipline.
She had considered Thortan for a moment, perhaps the barest flicker of a smile...the tiniest twitch of her lips suggesting a minute amount of humor had trickled through. She leaned toward him a touch, and though a true smile never appeared, there was an unfamiliar melody to her voice. "A mission destined for failure, I'm afraid. I am Lycian, Thortan, I do not laugh. I bark."
The rigid posture, the stoic gaze...that had never changed. Years of training and incessant work had left the woman on guard the majority of her life. If there was one thing people could not question, it was her discipline.
She had considered Thortan for a moment, perhaps the barest flicker of a smile...the tiniest twitch of her lips suggesting a minute amount of humor had trickled through. She leaned toward him a touch, and though a true smile never appeared, there was an unfamiliar melody to her voice. "A mission destined for failure, I'm afraid. I am Lycian, Thortan, I do not laugh. I bark."
Like a trained soldier, Liz held a rigid posture as she waited. Patience was a virtue this woman most definitely had, though her eyes narrowed minutely as the silence continued. She could only study the subject before her for so long before her mind wandered.
Coins jingled as the bag in Liz's hands was set on the table, and the quiet whistle of her brother mingled with the sound to create a momentary melody. He had always been the nosy sort. His fingers found the opening, tugging until the mound of golden coins within were revealed.
"Another noble off the list, I take it?"
Elizabeth nodded, moving without hesitation to clean her weapons and her gear. "Another power shift, another fresh round of contracts."
She sounded almost bored, and the truth behind that bland tone of voice was quite on point. She had been doing this for years...centuries. Their longer life span, deemed potential immortality, had left Liz following the same career path for so long it wasn't producing quite the same level of thrill. The tension of a new assassin...constantly considering the best methods, the best move, the right times... that was no longer necessary. Liz had exceeded the professionals at this point, confident enough she'd become capable of completing a contract in less than a day.
Her brother was all to aware of the fact, and perhaps that was what motivated the raven-haired man to waggle the official looking parchment in his hands teasingly. "Maybe it's time you explore your options, Lizzy."
Her eyes narrowed as she reached out to snatch the parchment from him. "I hate when you call me that." There was only a momentary glare as the woman took hold of the message. It wasn't yet opened, leaving her unsure how Sam may have been aware of its contents. The seal was ornate, twisting designs leading to a centralized symbol that looked vaguely familiar. It was already tattered looking. Messages coming in and out of their kingdom were often delayed. Few travelers were willing to move into the dark, pine forests of the southern lands, and even fewer Lycians were willing to go out and retrieve incoming messages.
Liz settled herself in a large armchair, the fireplace before her roaring and casting an orange glow over the dark wax that bound her letter. Silken thread dangled from the wax, a metallic charm bearing a similar symbol. It looked royal. As the seal was broken and the parchment opened, Sam bounced over toward the chair, reading right over his sister's shoulder without shame. She either didn't care, or was too surprised by the contents to pay much attention to her brother.
The letter was long, delicate looping script describing an elven kingdom Liz had heard of only in the storybooks. She would go on to describe the letter as a request to attend the dark elven court, though the words contained within the letter were nothing short of a demand. There was no denying the elven queen thought highly of herself.
It was an experience Liz would not soon forget. The opportunity to utilize her skill set in a different environment entirely had been enticing by itself, but the offer to expand upon her rumored affinity for shadow magic had been the true motivation to make the final decision. When she met the Dark Queen herself there had been no doubt she made the right decision, yet her introduction to the Queen's consort had been another experience entirely.
Idle magic had been brewing as the memories danced about her mind's eye. Shadow magic tainted by the light-magic forms often presented as varying shades of violet, yet the magics that now furled around Liz were undoubtedly pure. Perhaps to some they would be deemed black, but there was a depth there that made the word seem inadequate. There was no light where this smokey substance slithered about her form, it was an absolute absence of it. A void. An abyss. Thin, smoke-like tendrils danced about her shoulders and arms, slithering over her form as if offering an old friend a wholehearted embrace.
Thortan's whistle had snapped Liz back to the present, and the shadows dissipated with a soft, curious whispering sound. She blinked once as she caught up with her surroundings, forgetting to be irritated that she had been whistled at like a dog being told to come. She had moved toward him without question, leaving their newcomer to consider his options at his own pace. He would catch up, eventually.
@Cerces22
Coins jingled as the bag in Liz's hands was set on the table, and the quiet whistle of her brother mingled with the sound to create a momentary melody. He had always been the nosy sort. His fingers found the opening, tugging until the mound of golden coins within were revealed.
"Another noble off the list, I take it?"
Elizabeth nodded, moving without hesitation to clean her weapons and her gear. "Another power shift, another fresh round of contracts."
She sounded almost bored, and the truth behind that bland tone of voice was quite on point. She had been doing this for years...centuries. Their longer life span, deemed potential immortality, had left Liz following the same career path for so long it wasn't producing quite the same level of thrill. The tension of a new assassin...constantly considering the best methods, the best move, the right times... that was no longer necessary. Liz had exceeded the professionals at this point, confident enough she'd become capable of completing a contract in less than a day.
Her brother was all to aware of the fact, and perhaps that was what motivated the raven-haired man to waggle the official looking parchment in his hands teasingly. "Maybe it's time you explore your options, Lizzy."
Her eyes narrowed as she reached out to snatch the parchment from him. "I hate when you call me that." There was only a momentary glare as the woman took hold of the message. It wasn't yet opened, leaving her unsure how Sam may have been aware of its contents. The seal was ornate, twisting designs leading to a centralized symbol that looked vaguely familiar. It was already tattered looking. Messages coming in and out of their kingdom were often delayed. Few travelers were willing to move into the dark, pine forests of the southern lands, and even fewer Lycians were willing to go out and retrieve incoming messages.
Liz settled herself in a large armchair, the fireplace before her roaring and casting an orange glow over the dark wax that bound her letter. Silken thread dangled from the wax, a metallic charm bearing a similar symbol. It looked royal. As the seal was broken and the parchment opened, Sam bounced over toward the chair, reading right over his sister's shoulder without shame. She either didn't care, or was too surprised by the contents to pay much attention to her brother.
The letter was long, delicate looping script describing an elven kingdom Liz had heard of only in the storybooks. She would go on to describe the letter as a request to attend the dark elven court, though the words contained within the letter were nothing short of a demand. There was no denying the elven queen thought highly of herself.
It was an experience Liz would not soon forget. The opportunity to utilize her skill set in a different environment entirely had been enticing by itself, but the offer to expand upon her rumored affinity for shadow magic had been the true motivation to make the final decision. When she met the Dark Queen herself there had been no doubt she made the right decision, yet her introduction to the Queen's consort had been another experience entirely.
Idle magic had been brewing as the memories danced about her mind's eye. Shadow magic tainted by the light-magic forms often presented as varying shades of violet, yet the magics that now furled around Liz were undoubtedly pure. Perhaps to some they would be deemed black, but there was a depth there that made the word seem inadequate. There was no light where this smokey substance slithered about her form, it was an absolute absence of it. A void. An abyss. Thin, smoke-like tendrils danced about her shoulders and arms, slithering over her form as if offering an old friend a wholehearted embrace.
Thortan's whistle had snapped Liz back to the present, and the shadows dissipated with a soft, curious whispering sound. She blinked once as she caught up with her surroundings, forgetting to be irritated that she had been whistled at like a dog being told to come. She had moved toward him without question, leaving their newcomer to consider his options at his own pace. He would catch up, eventually.
@Cerces22
@Lazerus1@Faerah@Cerces22
Liz was calm as she listened, curious to hear the exchange of words that followed. There was little more than an eyeroll as Thortan spoke, her posture remaining as stiff as ever.
"Liz, my somewhat more unstable counterpart. Would you like to introduce me to your friend?? I know what you saw must of been wild, but trust me, you were never in any danger at all, despite the fact that one of the embodiments of the basic five elements dwell within Lia. I am more than confident that I could handle him on a rampage. I am Thortan Masters, owner of the House of Rejects, I see you met Liz, her bite is definitely worse than her bark. But I am sure a scratch behind the ear will relax her, although I value my hand to much to try. My I inquire as to who you are??"
A simple hum was offered at Thortan's word, though even the simplistic sound dripped with sarcasm. Yellow eyes flicked toward the new face, and then eventually to Lia. She was exceptionally cold toward others, as were many of her kind...perhaps that was part of why they were so largely unpopular. She could care less if a training session resulted in death, albeit, the more powerful people they had training here, the higher the chance of future success in the currently stalled war. If nothing else, she was smart enough to recognize that Lia was a powerful ally, a desirable one if she was going to maintain that control over her abilities.
She had remained silent during the briefly tense moment as a result of the new man's words. She understood the usefulness of the desert elf, but she had not yet acquired enough attachment to bother defending the woman. She simply waited quietly until Lia had turned and moved away. Her gaze returned to the newcomer finally.
"In combat I most often utilize hand-to-hand and melee techniques simply empowered by the shadows, but if you are seeking to flex your nullification muscle, so to speak, I can provide you with shadow specific offensive spells. Considering the Dark Queen herself trained me, along with her consort, I am confident it would provide you with an adequate practice session, even if you have become advanced in your art."
Liz was calm as she listened, curious to hear the exchange of words that followed. There was little more than an eyeroll as Thortan spoke, her posture remaining as stiff as ever.
"Liz, my somewhat more unstable counterpart. Would you like to introduce me to your friend?? I know what you saw must of been wild, but trust me, you were never in any danger at all, despite the fact that one of the embodiments of the basic five elements dwell within Lia. I am more than confident that I could handle him on a rampage. I am Thortan Masters, owner of the House of Rejects, I see you met Liz, her bite is definitely worse than her bark. But I am sure a scratch behind the ear will relax her, although I value my hand to much to try. My I inquire as to who you are??"
A simple hum was offered at Thortan's word, though even the simplistic sound dripped with sarcasm. Yellow eyes flicked toward the new face, and then eventually to Lia. She was exceptionally cold toward others, as were many of her kind...perhaps that was part of why they were so largely unpopular. She could care less if a training session resulted in death, albeit, the more powerful people they had training here, the higher the chance of future success in the currently stalled war. If nothing else, she was smart enough to recognize that Lia was a powerful ally, a desirable one if she was going to maintain that control over her abilities.
She had remained silent during the briefly tense moment as a result of the new man's words. She understood the usefulness of the desert elf, but she had not yet acquired enough attachment to bother defending the woman. She simply waited quietly until Lia had turned and moved away. Her gaze returned to the newcomer finally.
"In combat I most often utilize hand-to-hand and melee techniques simply empowered by the shadows, but if you are seeking to flex your nullification muscle, so to speak, I can provide you with shadow specific offensive spells. Considering the Dark Queen herself trained me, along with her consort, I am confident it would provide you with an adequate practice session, even if you have become advanced in your art."
There was a quiet moment where Liz seemed keenly aware that the newest guest was doing some rapid thinking, and though she'd not twitched toward a blade or some sort of move, the woman had remained rigid in her posture. She was analyzing him constantly, even as he commented on the magic outside. The cloak she'd arrived in was still dangling about her shoulders, though opened just enough that her leathers were visible. Shadows slithered over the surface of her armor beneath that cloak, like little black snakes weaving over her form. It was in preparation to disappear, yet the act had never come to fruition.
She finally took a step back, nodding. "There is a desert elf outside, gifted with significant strength in fire magic, it would seem. I did mention there was training, did I not?" She tilted her head at him curiously, perhaps a moment of that wolf-like behavior peeking through. She finally let her eyes waver from him to turn around, one hand waving over her shoulder. "Come and see, but do not interrupt. Thortan is capable of containing her." She stated it simply, there was no question. Assuming he followed, she lead him outside to the clearing where the training was taking place.
She finally took a step back, nodding. "There is a desert elf outside, gifted with significant strength in fire magic, it would seem. I did mention there was training, did I not?" She tilted her head at him curiously, perhaps a moment of that wolf-like behavior peeking through. She finally let her eyes waver from him to turn around, one hand waving over her shoulder. "Come and see, but do not interrupt. Thortan is capable of containing her." She stated it simply, there was no question. Assuming he followed, she lead him outside to the clearing where the training was taking place.
@Lazerus1 Sorry! I was slow this weekend. But I posted in your general direction :P
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