Rayvon paces, donned in naught but simple commoner clothes and a thick layer of dirt. Her hands ached and were raw with blasters. She had spent much of the time since the departure of Gabriel and the Queens from the lake tending to the burials of her fallen allies in marked graves. Much to the protest of some others, she did not let a mass grave be created for their fallen enemies. That was where her new soreness and much of the filth came from. While others were refusing to dig the other graves or mark their final resting place, she had set about digging their separate holes and setting things to right. Fashioning markings for their graves was hard and she found herself having to settle for driftwood she had found at the lake, tied together with strips of cloth into a cross and jammed into the earth.
Now, though, her duties for the time-being over, after checking in once more with the stonemason to ensure he had the best representation she could muster for the fallen demon-kin ally at the Town Square, she was outside the inn, uncertain whether to bother the angel Gabriel or not. He had said he had wanted to talk to her, but would it be rude to arrive, sweat-soaked, caked in dirt and overall unclean and grubby. She wipes sweat from her brow, only serving to further streak her face of the dirt already present. She grimaces and wipes her clammy hand upon her trousers, bouncing from foot to foot. This was ridiculous, she should not be so nervous. Yet, how in heaven or hell could she not be. This was a true representation of all she hoped to embody. An angel of such presence it had been like a scorching sensation broiling upon her unorthodox sense of both the unholy and divine! She shudders, feeling his precise location still. With a huff, she hefts her bag and armour, clutching the sword at her waist before walking in and climbing the stairs. Her leaden legs groaning and biceps burning at the exercise after her day of activity.
She followed her extra sense straight to Gabriel's door before taking a deep breath to steele herself. With a quivering hand, squaring her shoulders and setting her feet in a respectful stance, she beats upon the door thrice.
As Rayvon is about to knock on the door, Kouri opens it and steps outside. It was the door to an Inn, and she had managed to, temporarily, get the entire place for herself to speak with Gabriel. The place felt warm to her, and welcoming, though Gabriel sat with his head in his hands, wings close to his body. There was a great sense of loss and remorse from him. "I brought him up to date on the last ten years." Kouri says softly, looking back at him with pity. "I would be careful. He is stricken with grief."
Rayvon hesitates, looking at Gabriel, “Should we not all be, given the course of events. Some good has come of it all, true, but at what costs.” She offers Kouri a slight smile, “No offense to yourself or the actions of those in your entourage meant, of course. It was a heavy choice with harm to come from either course, I am sure.” She bows her head respectfully to the queen she was sworn to serve before stepping past her and into the room. She hesitates before setting down her gear and advancing to Gabriel's side. Stopping there, she places a hand reassuringly upon his shoulder and inquires, “Is there anything I might do to ease your pain?”
He shakes his head, and takes a deep breath, then exhales, slowly. "It is a bitter irony. Your Queen banishes my home to save her life and regain her own." His hands lower from his face to reveal the small wet trails down his cheeks from his eyes. "I stood against Typhon in the hope that he would listen to reason... He did not. He banished me into that lake hoping I would go mad. Sadly for him, I did not." Turning to look Rayvon in the eyes, he looks her over, evaluating how much of her heritage came from angels before stopping at her shoulders. After a moment's hesitation, his eyes narrow. "You... Had wings."
Rayvon stiffens, taking a step back and almost stumbling. “I...” A frown settles upon her face before she nods slightly, “Had, yes... But however could you know that? I... I have not revealed that to a soul...”
"The way you stand, the shape of your shoulders..." He looks in her eyes again, his own hard and yet understanding. "...The look in your eyes when you look at mine." He slowly stands and flourishes his wings out, stretching them after holding them so close to himself. He was tall, and was both imposing and inspiring. "What did you wish to see me for?"
Her eyes trail along his form, spanning across the outspread wings with awe and an old sadness, weariness beginning to cross over her features as she slumps her shoulders. “Admittedly, curiosity... Aside from my father, I knew none of angelic blood in all my time. Now, an angel appears before me.” She lowers her gaze as she draws her arms about herself, “Perhaps, it is a desire for kinship I scarcely know... Or perhaps the fact I can learn more from you about my heritage than has ever been offered. Even my father's teachings were... lacking.”
He slowly wrapped his arms and wings around her, holding her gently. Especially now his towering height was obvious: Her head only reached his chest. "I can teach you, if that is what you wish... Kouri also informed me of an enclave of my kind. They may be able to help you as well."
Rayvon tenses at his sudden proximity before slowly easing into his embrace, pressing close and enjoying the strangeness of his radiance upon her senses. “For that, you would have my utmost gratitude, Gabriel.” Tears threatened at her eyes, joy filling her at the concept. Not just Gabriel, there were more angels. Excitement at the notion of meeting each and every one of them prickles under her skin, and draws a warm smile to her lips.
Quietly and calmly he sighs, allowing Rayvon all the time she needed. "You have been through much... Though you may be surprised, by us angels. We are fairly..." He seems to search for the appropriate word. "...Stoic, usually."
She hesitates for a moment before nodding, drawing back from the embrace and raising her head to stare up at Gabriel's face. “I think, after the characters I have met today, fairly stoic might be a refreshing break.”
"It is not easy." Gabriel says as he motions for her to sit down across from him at the table he was sitting at. He returns to his own seat, furling his wings to his back once more. "Especially since you are an aasimar, not an angel. Your human side is much stronger than your angelic one."
Rayvon moves to sit across from Gabriel, nodding her head, “Yes, this is true... But I hold myself far more rigidly to my moral creed than most would even consider.” She folds her hands in her lap, holding her head up proud, even though feeling dwarfed by the impressive Gabriel. “I err, as any mortal... but I strive to exemplify the best in all my forefathers. Which... is hard to do when all that meets your ears seems to be the tragedies some committed.” She winces, looking at Gabriel, “Not all the angels were like that... right? They couldn't all be like Typhon?”
Gabriel looks at the table between them, and makes a single motion with his hand. As he does, the dust in the room gathers to the table. The dust then forms into whatever he willed it to be, people, or otherwise. "There is one critical flaw in the ideology of angels, in who and what we are. To be incorruptible, we must stand by a strict set of moral principles and guidelines." The dust formed into an angel and a human on his knees. "An angel cannot be afforded the luxury of falling to darkness like a mortal can. To do so would be to create an aberrition." The dust angel turns to a dark red in colouration and strikes the mortal down. With a motion of his hand, it resets back to the angel and the mortal on his knees. "At the same time, we never question our code. To do so would be to invite corruption into places we cannot afford it, and thus, our loyalty, that we have towards our Gods, our Heaven, our code, can also lead us into committing heinous acts." Once again the dust angel changes colour, this time to a lighter, brighter tone as it cuts the mortal down in the exact same way as it had before.
"We are, in essence, victims of pure order." Gabriel states. The dust figures settle back down onto the table as he lets go of his will over them. "Regardless of how an angel feels, he or she obeys the code their respective god or goddess gives them. Many to the point of disposing of their own, independent set of morals. Your father, I suspect, however, was moral, and reasoned on his own, like me. It takes that kind of independent moral thought to fall in love with a mortal."
She looks at the dust on the table curiously as she raises her head to Gabriel, “With the heavens banished, must all angels follow their own morals, then?” She furrows her brow, “Yet, you were about during the time of the gods, why were you not bound to the will of one of them?” She shuffles awkwardly, “And if angels must now choose, how do they know the right path to order?”
"I would imagine they must, to some extent, though the Archangel is likely a natural leader for them." He states, referencing Myria. "I was." The tone of his voice shifts to regret as he looks back at the table. "And I was bound to the will of a God... I did not question it at first... Then I thought about it, after hunting a renegade angel, and realizing that angel was no more different than I, no less moral than I as he protected the mortals in the town he had hid in by revealing himself and taking the battle outside of town." The dust trembles a little, almost as if he was trying to think of more imagery he could create with it. "Order is not necessarily moral. That is the first thing you must learn. Achieving order is simple: Put down anyone who refuses to subscribe to your order, and yet, we both know that the Papacy in Rheinfeld is far from moral, despite attempting to enforce this.."
Rayvon furrows her brow, “Then why follow order so rigidly?... Why not strive to be creatures to exemplify the best of morals and protect people? Did the angels not have a choice before?” She looks at the dust swirling, confusion evident. “Shouldn't they have a choice now? In the wake of the demons and their heinousness, shouldn't the angels be there as a beacon to purity and what is right and just in such a dark time?”
"We follow order so rigidly because morality is subjective, Rayvon." He motions to the table once again, two figures appear, a mortal fleeing a second mortal with a purse. "A very simple example. A destitute, teenaged boy steals from a working class man to feed his younger sister. What is the moral decision? The teenage boy needs the money to feed his sister. The adult needs the money to feed his wife and children." He then looks up at Rayvon, eye to eye. "Even if you give them both money, this merely stirs the thief on to steal more. If you try to steer him on a better path, this doesn't stop other thieves from repeating what he did. In fact, more thieves might sprout up in the hopes of being caught by you, given hand outs by you. And yet, to strike the boy down, or imprison him, would cause the inevitable death of his sister. There are many millions of them, but not very many of us, and we must spend our time dealing with greater threats, like demons. Speaking of..." He motions, and it is now an angel and a succubi, the succubi is on her knees, hands placed in front of her chest. "These creatures require preying on others in order to survive. They are naturally prone to behaviours that inspire cruelty and evil, and yet, there are a select few who do manage to successfully adjust and save themselves from their own nature. Yet, if you spare this succubi under that pretense, and it predictable more often than not chooses to break its word and prey, say, on the teenage boy's younger sister, draining her, enslaving her, and then eventually killing her, who is ultimately to blame?"
He leans back in his chair, a contemplative look in his eyes. "Order is easy, simple. There are a set of rules, and you obey them stictly. In doing so you avoid corruption and chaos. To be moral you must first accept that there is no singular moral code that can cover all situations, and there are some decisions where no matter how hard you try, to make a moral decision favourable to one party is to spite another. To follow a moral code, to question authority and order, you also open yourself up to demonic influences, to dark, disturbing thoughts slowly being seeded into your mind by infiltrators, by agents, by creatures like the succubi who thrive off of moral indecisions." His contemplative look ends, and he looks her eye to eye once more, attempting to gauge her response. "As for why my fellow angels choose to hide in these times, that is a question only the Archangel can answer." He furrows his eyebrows. "I am confused about it, myself. Now more than ever is a time for angels and inquisitions."
Rayvon rests her head on her hands, brow knit in thought. “You bring up a very valid point, but I do not think there is no room for morality. Error happens, as sure with trying to be orderly as trying to be moral. What is orderly to one can just as certainly be unordered to another.” She raises her head, “Surely, if it means to allow such wrongs as the Rheinfeld Papacy or the destruction of Renalta, then there must be a time for morals to enter into the equation. Otherwise, allowing such travesties to continue, how are angels better than demons? They surely must wrong the mortal world as often.” She furrows her brow, “Rules also should not be so rigid, they should be able to change with a situation.”
She pauses, realization dawning from her own experiences. “Would you kill a man for defiling the dead? Or imprison a woman for murdering a rapist? Each situation should have its own thought placed into it.” She sets her eyes resolutely upon Gabriel, “Surely, there is room for order and consideration. No two situations are the same and should deserve their own sentence based upon the situation.” She shakes her head, “But maybe I am not cut out to be like the angels, then, Gabriel. You are right, perhaps I am far more mortal than angel. But... that is not so wrong, is it?” She purses her lips before continuing, “Were I an angel, though, I do not think I could sit idly by. I would craft my own sense of order.”
"I am aware of that. That is why I was banished in the lake for a thousand years." He grimances and points towards the ceiling. "They were not precisely... Ah. Immortality is... A highly overrated quality." He smiles, his terrible attempt at humour easily seen through for what it was. "And... I never said there was anything wrong with being a mortal, Rayvon." He frowns. "I tried to save Renalta, not burn it."
Rayvon smiles a tad, leaning back, looking up at the ceiling. “Gabriel, I am sorry if I... have been harsh with my words. My confusion, and trying to understand.” She sighs softly, “There has been... much for me to take in today.” She ruffles her hair, grit falling from her hair. “I cannot help but think, though, that there is room for a new breed of angels since the banishment of the gods... If that makes any sense. And maybe I am not the only to think so, given the lack of presence of the angel enclave?” Rayvon rubs over her face, “Or maybe I am just too passionate and steadfast in my own beliefs when there is still much to learn and consider in this world. I am... sorry should I have upset you, especially considering all you must have taken in today yourself.”
Gabriel shakes his head and smiles, there was a genuine warmth to him that almost seemed to emanate outward as he looked at her. "No, it is fine. The inquisitive and yet judicial nature of yours is likely the angel part of you, trying to seek out right where there is perceived wrong." He then looks at the door, narrowing his eyes. "As for the angel enclave... Something must be wrong. I cannot imagine my own kind going into hiding against a threat like this." His eyes then wander back to Rayvon. "You are the only other one I have met thus far. No sign of angels, or even other aasimar."
Rayvon tilts her head humming softly before speaking up, perhaps more than a little proud at his observation, “Then why tarry? Perhaps we ought seek them out and understand what is their reasoning? It does little good to idle about wondering, after all.”
"We?" He says as he looks around. "The mortals need you, Rayvon... Hm..." He suddenly goes back to his contemplative state, leaning onto the table with his elbows
Rayvon pauses before moving from her chair, going to kneel by Gabriel as she places a hand upon his cheek. “Perhaps they do, Gabriel. But I think they need you now more than ever. There is good for you to do in this world, yet.” She smiles, tipping his chin up like she would a child's. “As much as you must have lost, just do not think you are alone. So, do not succumb to pain while there is still a sliver of hope.” She withdraws her hand gently, a soft look upon her face as she moves to stand once more, grunting softly in discomfort as her leg threatens to buckle after the rough day.
Gabriel notices her exhaustion and immediately stands, gently holding her once more and guiding her carefully back to her chair. "Rest, it has been a long day..." The contemplative look fades as his eyes fill with determination. "You are right, I am not alone... Maybe I could convince some of your Queen's Blades to accompany me... Find the enclave, get answers, convince them to join your cause. Surely Myria will feel for Renalta's plight... She came from this place." He smiles warmly as he returns to his own seat. "Thank you."
Rayvon snorts in amusement at Gabriel's coddling of her as she sits back. She nods simply at his words those and speaks up, “When you do go, I would like to go, though. I...” She flushes and shuffles her feet, “I admire Archangel Myria, and it would be a pleasure to meet her, I feel.” She considers it, “On the condition I suppose the Queens do not require my talents elsewhere. I do have that duty still.” She raises her hand, waving away Gabriel, “And I already told you at the lake, there is no need to thank me. What need is there for thanks when all I have done is stumbled along being myself?”
"Because being yourself has freed me, and saved the lives of innocents. You deserve far more than thanks, but it is all I have to offer." He then stands up, looking restless and eager. "... I believe I will need to talk to your Queen. In the meantime... Stay safe, Rayvon. Unless... You would like to accompany me to speak with the Queen?" He offers his hand to her, so they could walk together. "I think I would enjoy your company, and I could answer more of your questions."
She perks up that, eagerly taking his hand and standing up. “I would happily accompany you, Gabriel.” She chuckles and shakes her head, “To think this day was meant initially to consist of droll induction ceremonies.”
Holding her hand gently, he moves for the exit to the Inn. As he does, his stoicism shows, between the proud posture, the raised shoulders, and his intense if somewhat soft look in his eyes. "Then with your help, perhaps I can convince your Queen to look for the enclave... Now, more about stoicism..." He starts to say as he leaves the Inn with her, not looking back or hesitating in his movements.
Rayvon sighs, looking out through the window at the night sky. She sighs and raises her leg, stretching lazily after all her walking about the castle. Most of the day, she had been following odds and ends leads after the last whereabouts of the Drow priestess. She sighs and lets her leg fall, only thankful she had abandoned her armour for some of the finery. As much as she enjoyed the extra activity of late, it grew tiresome enough with time. She looks at the library door, uncertain if she was quite ready to encounter the drow again after their last meeting. Regardless, she had made a promise she intended to keep. Quietly, so as not to disturb any scholars who might be within, she opens the door and walks through to search the stacks for Andrea.
She liked this place, it vaguely reminded her of home, the temple halls with various tomes. It seemed that being a Queens Blade had it's advantages when she asked if she could be here at night the old codger, who referred to himself as librarian, said she was more than welcome to come here and read. Ceann was somewhere no doubt, either watching her or resting. She had told her bodyguard to leave her alone when she visited this place.
She had a table with various tomes on them, at least she had made effort to understand the written language of the surface as she was bend over a tome, detailing some of the more recent history of the kingdom of Renalta.
Rayvon nears the table, peering at the title heads of the books before raising her brow inquisitively, “Shocking. I would never have thought you one to be reading up on such. Have you not heard of the reformation of Renalta where you are from? I could have sworn everyone knew of the events that transpired.”
She raises a finger, indicating for the aasimar to wait, marking the page and passage she was at before closing the tome slowly and looks up. "I come from the Underdark and news from the surface is not all that common there." Or to be more precise most of the news of the surface the Drow did not care about.
She looked the aasimar over, not wearing armour this time she noted, she would remember that if she would be body-blocked by her again. "I assume you have come for that conversation." She smiled, "Let me start things off, by introducing myself. Andrea Llolth'Allin, priestess among the Drow." She said, not hiding the pride in her voice while she inclined her head.
Rayvon arches a brow, leaning her hip against the table as she crosses her arms over her chest. “Huh, so I have a name to go with the fire-throwing dark elf, now.” She snorts and resumes standing upright, bowing at the waist. “I am Rayvon Krayvitch, aasimar hailing from the Kingdom Liveria.” She pauses, before giving an awkward smile, “I figured I ought give you the conversation, as promised. I am not sure we will be seeing each other for some time, given this impending ball and my intentions to accompany the angel in his upcoming mission to meet a particular enclave.”
She raised her eyebrows, "So the tales of a angel from that lake are true, fascinating.... Also it is not just fire throwing." She raised her hand and let the golden white light emanate from her hand, "As I said, a priestess." She shrugged. "But fire is always useful. Queen Kouri seems to like it too from what I hear."
"I am grateful that we can have this talk then, before the ball and your departure, what upcoming mission would it be actually, if you don't mind my curiousity?"
Rayvon squirms uncomfortably before answering, “We would try to sway the angel enclave we have heard of to our cause, if possible.” She looks at Andrea, furrowing her brow, “I wonder, though, whatever could you have wished to talk to me about, given you had such an apparent desire for more conversation from me. I cannot be terribly interesting to one such as yourself. Nothing more than plenty of other 'surfacers' could provide, I'm sure.”
"Perhaps, perhaps not. But there are several reasons, for instance, the way we came to be to have... words... only you and I reacted to what that... man... was doing, while everyone else just watched or simply did not care. That and I admit a somewhat, what do the surfacers call it, 'professional' interest because of your angelic bloodline, associated with the gods, well the surface ones at least. No angels below the surface, at least not the kind with wings."
Rayvon makes a show of looking over her shoulders, “I suppose, but it does not look like I have wings, either.” She shrugs and pulls out a chair, taking a seat. “And not all, but I do believe our vampire companions were quite addled by the situation. Perhaps we were just of the more observant at the time. Or maybe we were just lucky to be in a group that could not have cared less. There are others, I'm sure, who would have been so bothered to see an ally's body picked over by a vulture.”
She narrowed her eyes briefly, there were other vampires... and Rayvon here spoke so openly about them... that deal... that secret she had been given seemed rather worthless now, she would most certainly keep that in mind. She relaxed quickly however, proceeding to frown, "And yet the vulture received no other punishment as I understand it.
Rayvon tenses before nodding slowly, “Yes, but he will be a man to bring his own punishment down on his head.” She pauses, “I would not kill a man over a dead spider or man's worldly possessions. I pity you if you are, though.”
She intertwined her hands together and looked over them at Rayvon. "Different culture, different crimes, different punishments." She said simply with a shrug. "In my culture doing that to a spider is simply not done. And I read in the goblin holds, when someone says something that might for some inexplicably reason invite disaster, like 'this couldn't get any worse' the punishment is sand shoved in one's pants or leggings near the groin area and then the sand will either be heated or swirled around to cut and tear by a mage. Now that seems barbaric to me, but it is apparently part of their culture... or now it is with their current king."
She looked at Rayvon over her hands still, "Do you pity them too? If so consider this, your pity, might be seen as a insult to those people. Now I admit, I was in the wrong, I am no longer in my homeland so the laws of my kind no longer apply... and yet I thought I read something about 'graverobbing' being a crime in these parts and as I said, no punishment has come to this man, curious no?"
Rayvon raises her brow at that tidbit of knowledge before shrugging and tipping back her chair, stretching. “If we want to get into specifics, one could argue they were not in a grave yet... but while I think it is wrong, my actions against that man would have been equally wrong. If he were to do more harm than simply to dead men, then I will step in. He had a point... The dead do not need silver or gold, that... is just a comfort to the living.” She eyes Andrea, “But laws or not, there are some that make no sense in any culture. I for one, would rather forge my own way, regardless of if it breaks the laws. If there is a punishment to befall me for doing what I feel is right, then I will bear it without shame... Besides, mercy today may mean reform tomorrow. We cannot tell the future, no?”
"Well I cannot for sure." She smiles. "Now then... another thing that has been burning on my mind for a while... you seemed rather... distraught... after what I did to, ah, gain the upper hand. Enough so that apparently you tell others about it?"
Rayvon near falls back in her chair as that subject is brought up. She barely manages to thud all four legs back down to the floor as she looks at Andrea, cheeks flushing and uncertain how to answer. “It... was... a shameless thing you did. And without my permission. Of course I am upset by it,” she finally manages to say after a silence far too long and awkward for her liking.
She grinned, "Well you have to admit, I had no other way to get a heavily armoured aasimar off me... I was just shocked that it was your first, it did snap me out of my rage however." She nodded, "how did it feel?"
Rayvon frowns, glaring at Andrea. “Intrusive, unwanted and nothing more than a deceptive ploy.”
"Ah those were the thoughts that came after, I am talking, how it felt at the moment of the kiss." Andrea said, still smiling.
Rayvon frowns, “I don't see the difference. You still did it without my consent.”
"Hmm... you are interesting indeed, and you never did even..." She shook her head, not finishing the sentence. "Might I ask, why you never experienced a kiss or more before? You seemed to have quite a strong reaction when I asked if everything was, ahem, in working order?"
Rayvon furrows her brow, looking away. “It has just never been in my interests to pursuit it,” she puts it simply, leaving out the more complicated details of her aversion to such acts.
"Funny thing about being a priestess... you learn to see the signs when someone is not saying the full truth." She said slowly after a moment, looking at Rayvon, willing her to look back at her. "Even among my own people, who value their secrets and are loathe to share their pains in fear someone will take advantage of them, it is still considered a greater risk to keep it, as the surfacers say, bottled up inside you. May I share a saying among my people? 'No demons but you'. It means that the greatest adversary you ever face in your life, is yourself."
Rayvon levels her gaze at Andrea, “I have no qualms with myself or the way I live my life, priestess.” She begins to raise from her seat, “And I would rather not relive such times if I can help it. It is why my father lies dead, my mother is in shackles and I am without wings or innocence. Is that what you wished hear, Andrea?... I hope so, because I feel done with this discussion.” She begins to take steps away before she even finishes her words.
"I did not wish anything, merely trying to help for a error I did the first time we met, but if you like to walk away from your problems and fears then why bother?" She casually remarked to the retreating back, watching her leave.
Rayvon turns back, hurt in her eyes. “If you wanted to right the wrong, you could have just apologized, not kept poking at a subject I am obviously uncomfortable with.”
Sighing she pinched the bridge of her nose and gestured to the chair. "Sit... please?" She asked.
Rayvon pauses, no longer retreating as she eyes Andrea, uncertain what to make of the polite request. “And why should I?... So you can embarrass me and continue to pry into more personal matters?”
It was her turn to look hurt, "This is already going to be painful for me as it stands but apparently I have to, so please, sit."
Rayvon hesitates, still. Until she sees the expression upon Andrea's face. Guilt floods through her as she nods and takes her seat once more, sitting upon the edge and curiously wondering what Andrea had to say now. The shift in her behavior was... pleasantly surprising.
She sighed and took a deep breath. "I... understand there is now word for it in my language so I have difficulties saying it... but I... apologize... for my apparent rude behavior towards you." There she was able to say it after all. She had not been on the surface long, and Ceann has surprisingly amounts of patience teaching her thankfully.
Rayvon furrows her brow, “That... will do for now, thank you.” She leans back and crosses her legs, “Perhaps, you can fully right the wrong in the future.” She levels her gaze upon Andrea, “Admittedly, I don't know much of your culture, but I suppose it is different enough that... that really could have been hard for you. Even if you cannot reverse the act, that is... something, I suppose.”
"Believe me when I was first taught that word I thought Ceann, my bodyguard, was joking, it was... difficult to grasp. But apparently it is needed on the surface." She stalled, seemingly lost in thought. "To right the wrong... you... said what I did was wrong, because it was without permission." She blinked, "Are you saying it could be corrected then, if I had permission?"
Rayvon wrinkles her nose, considering it, “Perhaps, if I were to see fit to grant it. I do hardly know you, though. Or you I.” She shrugs, placing her hands on her knees.
Andrea furrows her brow, strange people these surfacers were, next thing they tell her she can't have sex without getting to know them? "Well from what I learned of you, you are a warrior woman, not afraid to stay true to what you believe in from the brief conversation we just had before, even if it is among different cultures and laws."
Rayvon raises her brow before nodding, “Yes. I also trained with the witch hunters of Liveria for a time, that I might have some skill to defend myself and others in my travels.” She pauses, “Perhaps you could tell me what it was like in the Underdark, Andrea... While knowledge of the surface is scant in your world, it can equally be said information is scarce of the Underdark here, and I have had little chance to read up on such topics. Perhaps you could share some of your personal experiences as a priestess with me?”
"I suppose I could share some, we are part of the ruling elite where I come from, at least the city I am from. We drow are not a unified race we are more lie... I suppose they share similiarities with the city-states on the surface. There's one ruled by a council of wizards, another by a queen of magical and divine power and my city where the heads of various noble houses rule, with priestesses to help maintain the laws and connection to our goddess, Lollth. But there are many dangers, I remember vividly, I was just a acolyte then still when the Ilithids... I believe you might have heard of them as 'mind flayers'? Raided along the borders of our domain, imagine a drow host... fighting against mind enslaved thralls of a most hated foe... and then that some of those thralls are drow they have enslaved and the only thing you can do to release them, is by killing them before they kill you." She frowned at the memory, it gave her some of the hardest lesson.
She smiled a moment later, "There were better things however, informing a matron mother she would be giving birth to a strong daughter who would make a fine priestess if she reached the age."
Rayvon furrows her brow, uncertain what to think of the mindflayers before she nods, “It sounds like you must have enjoyed your work. Did you always know you would be a priestess?”
She smiles, "I was told... one of the most poisionous spiders of the Underdark... crawled into my crib... and snuggled against me when I was but a baby. Understand, spiders are considered sacred, but they are still spiders so if they bite you, it is simply the will of Lollth.. I was not bitten, in fact it became my companion, my guardian. I was touched by Lollth herself and deemed worthy, so when I joined Arach Tilith to begin my training I was certain I would succeed and became a cleric, a priestess to my goddess."
She turned to Rayvon, "You mentioned training with witch hunters and I have heard others call you a... paladin... a religious warrior? If that is so, how did that came to be, unless I have been misinformed of course. In that case you can clarify it for me."
The paladin pauses before nodding, “I am. My father was once a preacher, spreading his faith to those who would hear him. He taught... many good things, trying his best to embody that which he preached and to be a good man. I suppose, I took his teachings to heart at a very young age, and given our ancestors, angels, how could I hold myself to anything less?” She furrows her brow, “Given what I have seen for myself of the darkness in the realms, I just never thought I could sit idly by... So I haven't. I took the teachings of my father, and that of the order my mother served and I have forged my own path to be of assistance as I may...” She looks down at the ground, “Perhaps a shame that I am best at bringing death than anything else, but if I could, I would see mercy where I could, in hopes that those I spare can do good with their lives too.”
"It would be a shame if you brought death if it was for your own pleasure, but you seem to do it to... do good, yes? To protect."
She shrugs, “Yes, I suppose. But I do not wish to be just some executioner. A warrior is not and shall not be all I am... I would hope, at least.”
She frowned and looked around, "I do not recall which book... but it was the tale of a warrior, he had been retired, swearing to never take up a sword again, but when his family became endangered he had to fight, but because of his oath, he could not pick up a sword. So he picked up a large smith's hammer, a tool. He would not bring destruction, he would cast down to build anew."
Chuckling and shaking her head, Rayvon rubs her eyes, “Exploiting loopholes in one's word, clever. Though, were such a day I cast aside the blade come, I would not envy his position and might do the same, then.” She rubs her eyes, blinking in the low light cast by the candles scattered about the library. “Do you intend to stay up all night, Andrea?”
She blinked, "Ah yes, I understand you prefer to sleep at this time, I'm used to darkness so I find this... oddly comforting." She smiled, "Call it homesickness but this place, at night, it feels like home."
She scans over the library, stifling a faint yawn. “I suppose I can understand that. Liveria is... different, but similar in enough ways to Renalta that I do not necessarily feel ill at ease. I will, say, though... I miss the gargoyles and looming cherubim that scattered across the city. It was as if they were always looking out for you, ready to spring to life.” She smiles and shakes her head, “At least, that was what I thought as a child.”
"Oh?" Andrea seems fascinated, "We have something similar, large spider statues and figures spread over the architecture, some claiming they are magical constructs that only awaken in times of need. That or they are just statues." She chuckles.
Rayvon nods, with a faint smile, “Perhaps one day you or I will see the other's homeland with our duty to the Blades.” She stands and looks to Andrea, “I should be off for the night, though. I spent much of the day looking for you and I... am quite weary, I'm afraid.”
She nods, "I suppose so, perhaps we will venture into the underdark some day or your homeland." She stood up aswell, inclining her head. "I wish you a good night." She then smiled at a sudden though, tilting her head to the side. "May I offer a goodnight kiss?" She winked.
Rayvon rolls her eyes, a smile playing over her lips. “There is no rule permitting you may not, but I think I would prefer we spend more time together before I were to accept.” She pauses as she readies to leave before moving closer and kissing Andrea upon the cheek clumsily. “Just... a token of my appreciation, for this conversation. It was... pleasant, after the initial cultural shock for us both.”
Feeling invited to do so she kissed Rayvon on her cheek as well, "It was indeed pleasant, perhaps we can talk again?"
Rayvon touches her cheek, surprised and cheeks picking up colour once more. “Ah, yes... I would like that.”
She smiled, the colour of Rayvon's cheeks was quite interesting, perhaps she could do things more that caused her to do that, but not now. "A good night and, sweet dreams, I believe the saying is?"
“You learn fast,” she smiles, giving a nod of confirmation. “Sweet slumbers when you make it that way yourself, Miss Andrea.”
She watched Rayvon go and then sat back down, opening the tome once more and resumed reading where she had left off. Her mind distracted by the conversation, it would... take time to get used to it all here on the surface, she decided eventually.
