"Do you remember that time in the infirmary..?"
"That halfling, what was his name?"
"So annoying, and then I gave him that box that was WAY out of his range..."
"I didn't know such a little person could make such a big mess!"
"He deserved it."
"Goodness, and then Lady Annael came in to see what the fuss was and I panicked. You blamed it right on his friend with such a straight face, and she believed you!"
“She always did, it is my open and honest nature.”
The women dissolve into laughter, linking arms as they stroll down the street. The Elven woman slows her pace, gazing at her companion appraisingly as the Empath wipes a tear from her eye. "We really need to do this more often, Sonjaa. We do not see nearly enough of you."
The Human flushes slightly, still charmingly easy to fluster after all this time. "I know, m’Lady. ‘Tis like we say this every time we get together, and then something always..."
A sudden clamor rises to break the early morning quiet, warning bells and shouting coming from the general direction of the western gate.
"Right on cue," the Elf mutters.
Showing posts with label sendithu. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sendithu. Show all posts
Pebbles and Splinters, continued
“Hurry Brother, I need your help.”
The thought, brought through the albredine ring network, carries its own weight in pain and focused anger, spurring the Ranger’s stride. A startled guard barely manages to remove himself from the oncoming Ranger’s path as Maltris runs swiftly through the city gates towards his brother. Onlookers and passersby flinch away as the armed woodsman dashes by, his fully grown wolf hot on his heels.
Running to the end of the block where Mazrian and Kaelie’s home still shows the damage of recent battle, he pauses briefly, taking in the war preparations of his family. Trotting up to Samsaren they clasp forearms firmly before the Paladin hands over a waterskin. Taking a deep draught the Ranger nods, muttering “Thanks.” Glancing around briefly he turns his gaze back to the older Paladin. “So, what did I miss?”
Sighing briefly, Samsaren nods to his Squire who is paired with Khaelyn preparing their equipment. “They took another shot at the folks here. Khaelyn and Eckan handled it, though the house took the worst of it. More to point however, I suspect Mazrian decided to try to bring this to a rapid close and went off alone. His location cannot be found magicly, so I’m leaning towards something a bit more...predictable.” The Paladin nods respectfully towards the wolf seated at Maltris’ side. “Kaelie has a few items of his clothing, recently worn. Up for a hunt?”
Maltris nods. “Certainly, though trying to lead all of you will slow things down a great deal, especially if we’re trying to track at the same time.” The Elf squints a moment, thinking. “Though, there’s no reason why I need to limit myself to my own resources.” Closing his eyes briefly in thought, he then takes the shirt from Kaelie, tearing it in half. “Meet me at the Northern Gate,” the Ranger says, taking off without waiting for a response.
* * * * * *
The thought, brought through the albredine ring network, carries its own weight in pain and focused anger, spurring the Ranger’s stride. A startled guard barely manages to remove himself from the oncoming Ranger’s path as Maltris runs swiftly through the city gates towards his brother. Onlookers and passersby flinch away as the armed woodsman dashes by, his fully grown wolf hot on his heels.
Running to the end of the block where Mazrian and Kaelie’s home still shows the damage of recent battle, he pauses briefly, taking in the war preparations of his family. Trotting up to Samsaren they clasp forearms firmly before the Paladin hands over a waterskin. Taking a deep draught the Ranger nods, muttering “Thanks.” Glancing around briefly he turns his gaze back to the older Paladin. “So, what did I miss?”
Sighing briefly, Samsaren nods to his Squire who is paired with Khaelyn preparing their equipment. “They took another shot at the folks here. Khaelyn and Eckan handled it, though the house took the worst of it. More to point however, I suspect Mazrian decided to try to bring this to a rapid close and went off alone. His location cannot be found magicly, so I’m leaning towards something a bit more...predictable.” The Paladin nods respectfully towards the wolf seated at Maltris’ side. “Kaelie has a few items of his clothing, recently worn. Up for a hunt?”
Maltris nods. “Certainly, though trying to lead all of you will slow things down a great deal, especially if we’re trying to track at the same time.” The Elf squints a moment, thinking. “Though, there’s no reason why I need to limit myself to my own resources.” Closing his eyes briefly in thought, he then takes the shirt from Kaelie, tearing it in half. “Meet me at the Northern Gate,” the Ranger says, taking off without waiting for a response.
* * * * * *
Pebbles and Splinters
****************************************************************************
Authors Note:
The following is a bit of a labor of love. It follows the Sticks and Stones stories, so please be sure to read those first.
Secondly, I owe a huge thank you to the players behind Sendithu and Eckan. Between (major) editing, working as sounding boards, and generally putting up with my nonsense to get this to paper, from the heart - Thank you.
****************************************************************************
As the evening sun splashes against the battlements of the wall around Shard, a powerfully built Human and a stunning Elven beauty walk slowly down the road. Speaking softly to each other, they arrive at the Rose. Stepping forward the Paladin opens the door carefully, giving his companion a gentle smile. Trailing her fingers affectionately along his arm, the raven-haired Elf whispers a kind word before stepping inside the building.
As the pair enter, the Paladin nods to another Human standing just inside. Greeting him simply with a nod and a bass rumble of “Squire” the pair cross the oddly empty and quiet common room, heading towards the proprietor standing behind the bar.
Approaching the Publican, Samsaren gives the man a friendly nod before hefting an overfull gem pouch onto the counter. The Publican pauses before objecting, “Milord, that is far too much.”
Samsaren smiles softly before gently wrapping the man’s hand around the pouch. “Nonsense. You closed the entire bar for my friends and I to have a quiet gathering. Besides, I believe I heard mention of a child or grandchild, a wedding, and whatnot.” Gently patting the man’s hand on the pouch he continues, “Now I believe it’s a catered wedding, with an open bar.” Astounded, the man stammers another protest before being overwhelmed by a warm smile from Sendithu.
Violet eyes filled with amusement, Sendithu murmurs gently to the fellow, “He is stubborn and he has made up his mind. Now would be the time to just say ‘thank you’.” Giving the Publican a nod, Sendithu heads to the back room where the muffled sounds of merriment resound. Samsaren watches her go, before giving the man’s hand a final pat, “Oh...I also arranged with my partner, Zaherli, she will be in town for a short while and will make sure you get the best value for those. Take advantage.” Stepping away, the Paladin heads towards his Squire who is standing guard at the Inn’s door.
Stepping forward, Eckan clasps Samsaren in a solid forearm grip, turning slightly, Samsaren nods to the far door, “Who’s already arrived?”
Eckan glances at the door briefly, “Your..erm, our brother arrived just a few ago, with our guildmate, Kattena. Mistanna, Khaelyn and I arrived first by moongate from the Crossing. Sure beats walking, boss.” Samsaren chuckles, nodding, as Eckan continues, “Our dearest sister came through another gate a bit after us, but I haven’t heard from or seen Etherian.”
Authors Note:
The following is a bit of a labor of love. It follows the Sticks and Stones stories, so please be sure to read those first.
Secondly, I owe a huge thank you to the players behind Sendithu and Eckan. Between (major) editing, working as sounding boards, and generally putting up with my nonsense to get this to paper, from the heart - Thank you.
****************************************************************************
As the evening sun splashes against the battlements of the wall around Shard, a powerfully built Human and a stunning Elven beauty walk slowly down the road. Speaking softly to each other, they arrive at the Rose. Stepping forward the Paladin opens the door carefully, giving his companion a gentle smile. Trailing her fingers affectionately along his arm, the raven-haired Elf whispers a kind word before stepping inside the building.
As the pair enter, the Paladin nods to another Human standing just inside. Greeting him simply with a nod and a bass rumble of “Squire” the pair cross the oddly empty and quiet common room, heading towards the proprietor standing behind the bar.
Approaching the Publican, Samsaren gives the man a friendly nod before hefting an overfull gem pouch onto the counter. The Publican pauses before objecting, “Milord, that is far too much.”
Samsaren smiles softly before gently wrapping the man’s hand around the pouch. “Nonsense. You closed the entire bar for my friends and I to have a quiet gathering. Besides, I believe I heard mention of a child or grandchild, a wedding, and whatnot.” Gently patting the man’s hand on the pouch he continues, “Now I believe it’s a catered wedding, with an open bar.” Astounded, the man stammers another protest before being overwhelmed by a warm smile from Sendithu.
Violet eyes filled with amusement, Sendithu murmurs gently to the fellow, “He is stubborn and he has made up his mind. Now would be the time to just say ‘thank you’.” Giving the Publican a nod, Sendithu heads to the back room where the muffled sounds of merriment resound. Samsaren watches her go, before giving the man’s hand a final pat, “Oh...I also arranged with my partner, Zaherli, she will be in town for a short while and will make sure you get the best value for those. Take advantage.” Stepping away, the Paladin heads towards his Squire who is standing guard at the Inn’s door.
Stepping forward, Eckan clasps Samsaren in a solid forearm grip, turning slightly, Samsaren nods to the far door, “Who’s already arrived?”
Eckan glances at the door briefly, “Your..erm, our brother arrived just a few ago, with our guildmate, Kattena. Mistanna, Khaelyn and I arrived first by moongate from the Crossing. Sure beats walking, boss.” Samsaren chuckles, nodding, as Eckan continues, “Our dearest sister came through another gate a bit after us, but I haven’t heard from or seen Etherian.”
A Warrior's Hands
She slips into the smoky room, pausing a moment to lean on the doorway and admire for perhaps the thousandth time the strange beauty of the scene before her. Amidst the soot-stained tools and crackling flames, a tall Human toils tirelessly at a well-used anvil. Despite the heat and strenuous work, his silver-streaked hair is neatly tied back in an impeccable ponytail which brushes his muscular shoulders as he works, moving back and forth between anvil and forge fires with well-rehearsed movements. As he finishes the piece he is currently mending, she can resist temptation no longer and quickly crosses the room, slipping her arms around his waist and planting a series of soft kisses along the side of his neck.
He shivers slightly, almost dropping the freshly repaired tool. "I need to put a bell on you. Hello, beloved." Samsaren reaches for Sendithu, drawing her close for an embrace and then releases her with a wince, eyeing his clothes critically. "I should get cleaned up before I ruin that dress."
The Elven woman laughs softly and gives his ponytail an affectionate tug. "Ruin it, arn sanbabest, I do not care. I will buy another, it is just a dress." With complete disregard for the scattered bits of metal littering the area, she seats herself atop the anvil, crossing her legs and arranging the plum-tinted firesilk neatly around her. "So, just getting started or wrapping things up for the day?"
He grins at her, taking a moment to appreciate the view. "I could be persuaded either way. What's on your agenda today?"
"I had not decided yet." She shifts slightly, picking at a non-existent piece of lint on her dress.
Samsaren smiles at her, taking her hand in his and brushing his lips across her knuckles just to make her blush. It always works, and they share an amused grin. He stretches, rolling his shoulders, before methodically taking out his forging tools one by one and carefully inspecting each for any sign of damage. Sendithu pulls a small ball of yarn out of her cloak pocket and casually begins knitting, humming quietly to herself. They work in comfortable silence for a time, her knitting needles clicking in time to his wire brush as he repairs his tools, until he glances over and notices that her work has gone awry and she doesn't seem to be paying attention to it. "Something on your mind?"
He shivers slightly, almost dropping the freshly repaired tool. "I need to put a bell on you. Hello, beloved." Samsaren reaches for Sendithu, drawing her close for an embrace and then releases her with a wince, eyeing his clothes critically. "I should get cleaned up before I ruin that dress."
The Elven woman laughs softly and gives his ponytail an affectionate tug. "Ruin it, arn sanbabest, I do not care. I will buy another, it is just a dress." With complete disregard for the scattered bits of metal littering the area, she seats herself atop the anvil, crossing her legs and arranging the plum-tinted firesilk neatly around her. "So, just getting started or wrapping things up for the day?"
He grins at her, taking a moment to appreciate the view. "I could be persuaded either way. What's on your agenda today?"
"I had not decided yet." She shifts slightly, picking at a non-existent piece of lint on her dress.
Samsaren smiles at her, taking her hand in his and brushing his lips across her knuckles just to make her blush. It always works, and they share an amused grin. He stretches, rolling his shoulders, before methodically taking out his forging tools one by one and carefully inspecting each for any sign of damage. Sendithu pulls a small ball of yarn out of her cloak pocket and casually begins knitting, humming quietly to herself. They work in comfortable silence for a time, her knitting needles clicking in time to his wire brush as he repairs his tools, until he glances over and notices that her work has gone awry and she doesn't seem to be paying attention to it. "Something on your mind?"
Sticks and Stones, Continued
Moving swiftly, longbow held close to his body, Maltris continued to backtrack the incoming forces. Staying to the shadows and cover of the wilderness, the Elf keeps a wary eye on the slowly tapering advance. After some time, and a few close calls the Ranger finally arrives at the source.
Well away from the city, hidden deep in the woods a large ritual circle glows with a sullen inner light. Moving carefully around the clearing, Maltris examines the runes from afar, sticking to the cover lest the caster or casters return. As a careful, but distant examination yields little result, the Elf carefully notches an arrow, preparing to move closer.
Before he can move closer, a feminine voice behind him asks in Ilithic “Runes are dull, any thoughts?” Leaping in the air in surprise, Maltris lands with an oath on his lips, arrow half drawn in his bow. Casually pushing the arrow aside with the her blade, Sendithu looks past Maltris to another unnoticed Elven figure. “Jumpy, isn’t he?”.
Clad in nightmare black leathers, and hidden in a shadowsilk cloak, longbow in hand, the second Ranger glances at the pair “To be fair, I imagine we managed to slip up on him.” Eyes shifting to the clearing he points a gloved hand before shifting deeper into cover. “We’ve company.”
Well away from the city, hidden deep in the woods a large ritual circle glows with a sullen inner light. Moving carefully around the clearing, Maltris examines the runes from afar, sticking to the cover lest the caster or casters return. As a careful, but distant examination yields little result, the Elf carefully notches an arrow, preparing to move closer.
Before he can move closer, a feminine voice behind him asks in Ilithic “Runes are dull, any thoughts?” Leaping in the air in surprise, Maltris lands with an oath on his lips, arrow half drawn in his bow. Casually pushing the arrow aside with the her blade, Sendithu looks past Maltris to another unnoticed Elven figure. “Jumpy, isn’t he?”.
Clad in nightmare black leathers, and hidden in a shadowsilk cloak, longbow in hand, the second Ranger glances at the pair “To be fair, I imagine we managed to slip up on him.” Eyes shifting to the clearing he points a gloved hand before shifting deeper into cover. “We’ve company.”
Sticks and Stones
The rhythmic hammering of shaping steel echos through the forge as two humans work the slowly yielding metal. The larger, older human lands blow after blow, while the younger, less stout man holds the piece in place with a set of heavy tongs. The work pauses as the albredine rings on both of their hands flash briefly with an inner light. An outside voice imposes itself upon both their thoughts, “Gents, could use a hand here, it’s getting ugly faster than the Half Pint Inn on ‘Tog appreciation night.”
Snorting loudly Samsaren quickly hangs his forging hammer on the wall. “Send a thought to our friend about a gate, I’ve a beacon.” Eckan nods quickly, his thumb lingering a moment on his ring, before he starts buckling on armor. Samsaren grabs his shield, fastening the weapon harness as he steps out of the forging society.
Reaching into his longcoat he pulls forth a ruby red crystal shard. Raising it the shard skyward, it flashes into a beam of red light that slowly fades from view. Moments later a red-gold fountain erupts, as a moongate appears before the men. Stepping through, the warriors find themselves just inside the Western gate of Crossing.
Nodding a quick thank you to the Magi, Samsaren turns to the gate guard. “Open the gate.” The guard pales before stammering, “B-b-b-ut,m’lord, the monsters!” Sighing, Samsaren launches himself up the stairs to the battlements, uncoiling a heavy rope as he ascends the steps three at a time. Tossing the loop over one of protrusions he launches himself over the wall. Eckan meanwhile grins at the guard, “Gee thanks, get him all wound up BEFORE a fight!” before chasing off after his patron, using the rope to descend.
Snorting loudly Samsaren quickly hangs his forging hammer on the wall. “Send a thought to our friend about a gate, I’ve a beacon.” Eckan nods quickly, his thumb lingering a moment on his ring, before he starts buckling on armor. Samsaren grabs his shield, fastening the weapon harness as he steps out of the forging society.
Reaching into his longcoat he pulls forth a ruby red crystal shard. Raising it the shard skyward, it flashes into a beam of red light that slowly fades from view. Moments later a red-gold fountain erupts, as a moongate appears before the men. Stepping through, the warriors find themselves just inside the Western gate of Crossing.
Nodding a quick thank you to the Magi, Samsaren turns to the gate guard. “Open the gate.” The guard pales before stammering, “B-b-b-ut,m’lord, the monsters!” Sighing, Samsaren launches himself up the stairs to the battlements, uncoiling a heavy rope as he ascends the steps three at a time. Tossing the loop over one of protrusions he launches himself over the wall. Eckan meanwhile grins at the guard, “Gee thanks, get him all wound up BEFORE a fight!” before chasing off after his patron, using the rope to descend.
Lending out a Squire
High above the west gate of Shard, two figures stand close together, gazing over the parapets as the sun sets over the Wyvern mountain range. Sighing contentedly, the shorter of the pair snuggles in closer and her companion tightens his arm around her waist in response. As much as she enjoys the rush of the hunt, this quiet time together is something she treasures. "What's on your mind?" he asked, brushing his lips against her ear.
She shivers slightly and smiles, twisting around in his arms to lean against the wall and look up at him through the dark veil of her eyelashes. "What makes you say that?"
Chuckling softly, he tilts her chin upward with his knuckle. "Dearest, I know you. There's -always- something. Now, what's on your mind?"
She flashes a crooked grin at him, marveling for the thousandth time at having finally found a partner as direct and unflinching as she. "Eckan," she replies after a moment.
He arches an eyebrow at her in surprise. "Thinking of trading me in for a younger model, then?"
She smirks and gives his chest an affectionate shove. "Yes, you absolutely bore me to tears and I feel like I could do better." His grey eyes crinkling in amusement, he pulls her even closer in a tight hug and then releases her, leaning back to gaze into her eyes patiently. "No, you lovely fool," she continues. "I was thinking about that offhand comment at that badge quest thing the other night, about sending Eckan off for some additional training. Protecting someone, Mistanna perhaps, like we mentioned. I think it would do him some good to be around...well, people, and she is more tolerable than most. It would be good for him."
"I don't disagree," Samsaren begins thoughtfully. "The lad has always been a bit...skittish around people. Spending all his time in the field is great for his martial skills, but you're right, rounding him out a bit isn't a bad idea. Would you mind making the arrangements? You're better at finding the proper words for such."
She reaches up and gives his carefully arranged ponytail a playful tug, drawing an amused chuckle from him. "Paperwork? Hmph. I suppose I could be persuaded..." Suddenly he leans in and captures her lips with his, and whatever she was about to say is lost in the night air.
---
The next day in Rivercrossings, an Elven Trader glances at a pressed sheet of pale blue paper before sealing it with a blob of dark purple tinted wax stamped with a lily and sending it off with a courier.
"Mistanna,
I hope this letter finds you well. Straight to the point, we have been giving the matter of Eckan some thought, and we feel it would round out his training to have some practical experience in a more social setting. Martially, the boy is quite capable, but he suffers a bit with anxiety in some situations and could use a bit of polish. With your experience and good nature, we think you would be perfect if you are willing to take him on as a bodyguard. As he is still Samsaren's squire, you naturally would not need to provide a salary. Consider it more of a temporary fostering. Mull it over, and let us know.
~S"
She shivers slightly and smiles, twisting around in his arms to lean against the wall and look up at him through the dark veil of her eyelashes. "What makes you say that?"
Chuckling softly, he tilts her chin upward with his knuckle. "Dearest, I know you. There's -always- something. Now, what's on your mind?"
She flashes a crooked grin at him, marveling for the thousandth time at having finally found a partner as direct and unflinching as she. "Eckan," she replies after a moment.
He arches an eyebrow at her in surprise. "Thinking of trading me in for a younger model, then?"
She smirks and gives his chest an affectionate shove. "Yes, you absolutely bore me to tears and I feel like I could do better." His grey eyes crinkling in amusement, he pulls her even closer in a tight hug and then releases her, leaning back to gaze into her eyes patiently. "No, you lovely fool," she continues. "I was thinking about that offhand comment at that badge quest thing the other night, about sending Eckan off for some additional training. Protecting someone, Mistanna perhaps, like we mentioned. I think it would do him some good to be around...well, people, and she is more tolerable than most. It would be good for him."
"I don't disagree," Samsaren begins thoughtfully. "The lad has always been a bit...skittish around people. Spending all his time in the field is great for his martial skills, but you're right, rounding him out a bit isn't a bad idea. Would you mind making the arrangements? You're better at finding the proper words for such."
She reaches up and gives his carefully arranged ponytail a playful tug, drawing an amused chuckle from him. "Paperwork? Hmph. I suppose I could be persuaded..." Suddenly he leans in and captures her lips with his, and whatever she was about to say is lost in the night air.
---
The next day in Rivercrossings, an Elven Trader glances at a pressed sheet of pale blue paper before sealing it with a blob of dark purple tinted wax stamped with a lily and sending it off with a courier.
"Mistanna,
I hope this letter finds you well. Straight to the point, we have been giving the matter of Eckan some thought, and we feel it would round out his training to have some practical experience in a more social setting. Martially, the boy is quite capable, but he suffers a bit with anxiety in some situations and could use a bit of polish. With your experience and good nature, we think you would be perfect if you are willing to take him on as a bodyguard. As he is still Samsaren's squire, you naturally would not need to provide a salary. Consider it more of a temporary fostering. Mull it over, and let us know.
~S"
Kattena: A Lady's Story
Night falls bringing relief from the summer heat, as the moons trek across the star speckled sky. Strings of gaethzen orbs weave between the branches of towering trees, casting a soft glow on the forest floor below. Lengths of filmy grey mistsilk are draped across sturdy tables set in a half circle amongst the trees, cascading bouquets of rich champagne Lion's Mane irises and exquisite teal roses fill polished vases of hammered silver serving as centerpieces. An arch woven from olive branches serves as a backdrop for a small podium bearing the crest of the Paladin guild. A gentle breeze coaxes a melody from crystal chimes greeting guests as they arrive.
As men and women filter in from all directions, an Elven Trader whispers a greeting and directs them to tables. Disgruntled looking hirelings carry trays of appetizers and glasses of wine, their furrowed brows and muttered complaints lost in the din of quiet conversation.
A raven haired Elven woman slips into a seat next to an armored Paladin, batting him with is ponytail before giving the Trader a slight nod.
"My benefactor tells me they are close," the Trader announces softly. "Please quiet down, we don't want her running off before she even gets here."
A few stifled giggles roll through the group as they fall silent, only the soft chimes and distant chirping of grasshoppers disturbing the peace.
As men and women filter in from all directions, an Elven Trader whispers a greeting and directs them to tables. Disgruntled looking hirelings carry trays of appetizers and glasses of wine, their furrowed brows and muttered complaints lost in the din of quiet conversation.
A raven haired Elven woman slips into a seat next to an armored Paladin, batting him with is ponytail before giving the Trader a slight nod.
"My benefactor tells me they are close," the Trader announces softly. "Please quiet down, we don't want her running off before she even gets here."
A few stifled giggles roll through the group as they fall silent, only the soft chimes and distant chirping of grasshoppers disturbing the peace.
Text-y little elven empath with a penchant for things not being her fault, even when they are.
The Fete of Banishment
“Our Goal will be killing one thousand Undead.” Leucius’ words seem to echo as the small group moves through the mist into a black granite stairway. At the fore, leading the group into the darkness steps a tall, powerfully built Paladin. Pavise shield held firmly in his hand and jaalmin longcoat hiding the promise of the heaviest of armor underneath, Samsaren strides forward, eyes alert for resistance from the undead. Moving gracefully at his side is a beautiful blue-black haired Elven woman, her violet eyes eyes catching every movement in the shadows.
Traveling behind the Paladin is a second elf, her auburn hair carefully tucked into a helmet, and the hint of a giggle stirring behind mirth filled eyes. Bringing up, and protecting the group's rear is another Paladin. Slightly smaller in stature and height, the other human moves carefully, constantly checking behind the group, expression as serious as the grip on his spetum.
As the group moves down a second stairwell inside the Temple the light from the hidden door above beings to rapidly fade. Gently, the lead Paladin calls behind him “Eckan”, prompting the second Paladin to trace a complicated glyph in the air. After a brief moment and nothing happening, Eckan looks dejected. With a glance carrying only the barest hint of reproach the older Paladin traces the same pattern murmuring quietly “daily prayers lad” as a series of orbs of light spring into existence and settle into a revolving pattern around him.
Traveling behind the Paladin is a second elf, her auburn hair carefully tucked into a helmet, and the hint of a giggle stirring behind mirth filled eyes. Bringing up, and protecting the group's rear is another Paladin. Slightly smaller in stature and height, the other human moves carefully, constantly checking behind the group, expression as serious as the grip on his spetum.
As the group moves down a second stairwell inside the Temple the light from the hidden door above beings to rapidly fade. Gently, the lead Paladin calls behind him “Eckan”, prompting the second Paladin to trace a complicated glyph in the air. After a brief moment and nothing happening, Eckan looks dejected. With a glance carrying only the barest hint of reproach the older Paladin traces the same pattern murmuring quietly “daily prayers lad” as a series of orbs of light spring into existence and settle into a revolving pattern around him.
A Night in Ain Ghazal
It had been a long morning in the black spire, but culling the throngs of Dragon Priests was one of her preferred ways of passing time, especially when a certain Paladin was with her. Normally the pair would retire to the forge or their apartment in Shard after completing the day's hunt but today Sendithu had something better in mind, starting with a glass of the Chateau's finest red wine and a long, hard earned soak in the mineral baths high atop Ain Ghazal. She tilted her glass slightly, letting the candlelight play off the blood red liquid within, her thoughts starting to drift as she eases into the steamy water. This place, this island, was one of the very few places where she ever felt truly safe. Her reputation preceded her, especially here, and the Sisters ran a very tight ship and brooked no mischief. Being able to relax her guard for these few hours was precious to her and she intended to share that with Sam today. A polite tap at the crystal door shakes her from her reverie just before the attendant sweeps into the room, proffering a sumptuous bathrobe with downcast eyes. She emerges from the water and dresses quickly, draining her glass before striding up the staircase towards the sana'ati doors leading to the Palace Suite at the top of the Chateau.
The raven-haired Elf runs a critical eye over the room, but everything was perfect as usual. Even the amaranthine bedding was the perfect shade to compliment her eyes. She tossed a platinum coin to the attendant and gave a slight nod as the girl bowed her way out of the room, closing the doors behind her. A slight smile crept across her lips as she gazed into the armoire. She enjoyed this part, choosing her attire was always amusing but dressing for him was something else entirely. Time slipped by as she debated the finer points of several gowns, but finally as she stood in front of the mirror and made the final adjustments, there was a polite series of taps at the door. He had arrived.
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