RP:Nasada, Reincarnated
Summary: Four-way roleplay between Gheneroc, Nasada, Larewen, Zondo and Xersom
Nasada stood facing the bridge. It seemed familiar somehow. It could not be the very one from her dream, could it? Her brow furrowed, quite worried about the possibility of it giving out when she chose to cross it. She just had to get to the other side- There were actual signs of civilization! A cool wind toyed with her cloak, a shiver running along her flesh. She remained idle, looking into the blackened abyss below.
Larewen was among those that had noted a familiar presence, but had not said anything of it - to anyone, really. Of course, there was also no reason to suspect that the woman she was now approaching was once someone else entirely; she knew very well what Nasada, the Nasada she knew anyway, looked like. The elf's steps slowed as she peered ahead of her, taking note of the woman's hesitation to cross the bridge with a rather curious turn of her lips. There was an inexplicable darkness around the strange woman that drew Larewen nearer, and at a rate that was certainly quicker than the necromancer's movement. Stepping up alongside her, the dark sorceress's gaze would also look down into the abyss. She would be on Nasada's left, so that if the woman were to look her way, the braided links of Gheneroc's Chain of Domination would be seen spiraling down from behind her right ear, moving left across her body. "I can't say I've seen someone simply stop right here. If you're considering a jump, there's far better ways, and your body would be much more useful after those than scraped from the abyss."
Nasada nearly fell into the pit, she jumped so hard. Naked toes dug into the soft earth at her feet as she started to turn to her left, the shoulder recoiled as if to dodge some sort of incoming attack. Dead, pale eyes widened, a rough scan taken of the new stranger that had appeared in the night. It took Nasada a moment or two, but she did finally breathe a sigh of relief. "N-no.. I..." she stammered; Another visible shiver comes over her. "Is it safe?" she asks, motioning to the bridge. "I'm s-sorry. I'm lost. I... left my home and I don't know how I got here. I was looking for a town..."
Larewen's gloved hand shot out as the woman nearly toppled over the edge, fingers seeking to dig into the soft flesh of her shoulder and draw her back from the near death experience. What Nasada would see upon her study of Larewen would be a dragon-marked woman dressed in finery that was rather unusual for elven folk. It was a bit too human. Larewen's nostrils flared as she inhaled the scent of the woman and for the briefest of moments, her grip would tighten before she would be released. "Not if you wish to maintain ownership of your blood," came her reply, coolly. "That city over there is home to vampires and undead; the former of which would love to sink their fangs into your pretty little neck." It wasn't just the smell of fresh, human blood that enticed her; it was the darkness that emanated from her. It attracted the dark sorceress like sugar attracted insects.
Nasada let instinct kick in, a death drip closing the opening of the hood around her throat. "V-vampires? Undead?" she seemed frightened at the thought of her own demise; Yet deep in those pale blues, something twinkled. A morbid curiosity? "I see." she said with a frown. For a moment she settled her gaze upon the west, a light sigh let loose as she just about admitted defeat. When Nasada could bring herself to focus upon Larewen once more, she finally took into detail the garb that she wore. It seemed expensive- or so the neophyte necromancer thought. "Well, do you know of perhaps a safer place to go? I am so hungry... I have been without food or drink for some time, now..."
Larewen watched the woman's movements from behind her veil, lips pressing together briefly. The pinching closed of her hood only refocused the elf's attention on her now hidden throat. Again, there was a flare of her nostrils, and perhaps even a watering of her mouth, before she swallowed hard. "There is a restaurant in the small village nearby," the elf answered and then extended a gloved hand toward her. "If you'll come with me, I'll treat you to dinner."
Nasada felt conflicted. It was trusting strangers that got her into this predictament in the first place. For all she knew, this woman was going to lead her into a dark alley and kill her! No. No. Get it out of your head, Nasada. Not everyone is evil and scary. "I would be very honored, miss.." she said finally, a small meek smile offered soon after.
Larewen waited unti to see if the girl would be comfortable enough to take her hand. When she did, or when she did not, the elf would turn on her heel and guide the necromancer toward the restaurant in Kelay. She was, actually, evil, but she wasn't going to kill Nasada; the girl smelled far to good to brutally slay in one night. No, it would be better to keep her alive, really.
Nasada peered around quietly as she entered the restaurant with Larewen. She relaxed a little, the warmth felt very inviting. It was probably the warmest she had felt in weeks. Silent, relieved, she awaited Larewen's lead.
Larewen swept her gaze over the restaurant briefly, hardly bothering to acknowledge any faces as she sought an empty table. To it, she would lead the girl, even going so far as to pull a chair out for her to sit. Lowering herself into the one opposite of Nasada's, she would wave over a waitress. "Order whatever you want, little one," she said softly, her voice hauntingly sweet. "Eat your fill, at least."
Zondo pushes the doors open, moving into the Restaurant and out of the night the Elder lets out a sigh, his hunting didn't go as planned so he figured he would see what he could prey on within the walls of this establishment. Moving to a table less hit by the candle light he gets an odd feeling, something feel familiar. Looking around he notices Larewen and the woman that accompanies her. As he had never seen the woman before, Zondo quickly looks around the rest of the place. It is clear that he is looking for something or someone as his eye darts around the place and to every dark corner.
Nasada lowered her hood as they approached the table, the full extent of her features now able to be distinguished in the restaurant's light. Black unkempt hair fell upon her shoulders, her cheeks having sunk in from lack of nourishment over her time in exile. Her face was quite youthful, barely out of her teenage years; Although slightly hidden behind smudges of mud and dirt. She was rather pale for a human, one could almost mistaken fer for the undead, especially with those nearly colorless eyes! When Nasada made motion to move her black locks from view, she revealed a bit of a scar beginning upon her forehead, running into her dirty mane. "Thank you, miss. I really appreicate this. To no end..." She soon sat, looking over what she percieved was the menu. She barely read much, picking off the first things she came across. "If it is not too much.. potatoe and chicken? And.. water. Water would be so nice." A lighter, more calm smile appeared. Before she was able to speak futher, her gaze turned to the newly entered, taking time to survey and note all that she could see. It was refreshing to see actual signs of civilization!
Larewen studied the girl as the hood was drawn back. The tucking of hair behind her ear made visible that scar and it was something Larewen would ask about later, undoubtedly. For now, she was studying the deplorable condition of Nasada's body. "Whatever you like, little one," she repeated again. The term was almost endearing, it seemed. If the girl smelled this good while in such bad condition, the elf could only wonder how she smelled, no, how she -tasted- healthy. The waitress had arrived by then and Larewen ordered quietly for Nasada. "Chicken and potatoes, with a glass of water, for the girl, please." She, however, ordered nothing. It was at that precise moment, upon the opening of the restaurant door once again, that the elf again sensed familiarity, but this time, she could quite literally smell it: Zondo. While Nasada poured over the menu, the elf's dark, chocolate eyes raised and met with his. There was a flicker of pain, of emotional turmoil that had briefly surfaced, before it was buried once more.
Zondo stops looking around as he meets Larewen's gaze, a nod sent to the woman in a form of greeting. Being unsure how to approach her after their last run in he decides that if she wishes to speak to him then she will do so. Calling over the waiter he orders a steak raw and a glass of wine before looking back over to the pair. This time looking at the female who is accompanying Larewen. Something felt off about the girl and yet he could not place his finger on what it was. For the time, the elder simply dismissed it and waited.
Nasada offered a polite nod to the newly entered stranger before turning back to to the one she would dub as her saviour. "Words can not express how much this means, miss.. I will find some way to repay you. Once I find my way in this place." She glances around, "Where...is this place, exactly? it is unfamiliar. I do not remember taking any unusual roads or paths, and all of this territory seems...new." It did not seem to take overly long before the prepared food was brought to the table, Nasada's first instinct to grab the glass of water and take a few gulps. Normally, she had more manners than this, but seeing as she was starving, the vagrant woman began to stuff her face. Noisily at that.
Larewen drew her attention back to Nasada, an eerily pleasant smile curling the corners of her lips upward. A promise of repayment could go many, many different ways, and she would take that to heart. "For now, let us worry about your health. Your kind are much too frail without the side effects of malnutrition," Larewen said quietly. "As for finding your way in this place, I think there may yet be a few options for you. This place? It is Lithrydel - or Hollow, as it is more commonly called. If you're not careful, you'll quickly find yourself at the wrong end of a blade, too." She would let the conversation trail off as food arrived though and she seemed to pay no mind to the girl's loud, noisy eating habits. Did they irk the elf? Most definitely, but it was worth the darkness that she could feel within the girl. While Nasada buried her head in her plate, Larewen's eyes once more turned toward Zondo, their one night together bubbling to the forefront of her mind for a long moment. Something in her chest ached, faintly, but there was still no sign that she would greet him.
Zondo once again catches the vampric elf's gaze as her companion eats loudly. Clearly apparent that the girl is starving he just lets out a laugh as he turns to his own meal. Taking a sharp dagger from inside his cloak, the elder sets about cutting the slab of meat before him, cutting in lengthwise into strips and the in half across the width to make the pieces more bite size before he begins the task of eating each piece.
Nasada let loose a a belch, quickly washing down a mouthful of food with he water. Again she stuffed a bit more chicken into her maw, speaking before even swallowing. "Lithrydel? Hollow? I have not heard such names. Maybe I ventured much father than I thought!." she exclaimed, her cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk preparing for winter. A little food spat out and onto the table. It was in this moment that the woman realized she was being a little glutton. A hard swallow, dainty fingers sliding the offending tidbits off of the table and onto the floor. "I'm sorry, miss. I was taught better manners than this. It's just, it's so good. I can not help it." A sip of water is taken, and then a more humane portion of potatoes is placed upon her fork. "Is this land dangerous?" she asked before taking a small bite.
Larewen would not draw her stare away from the elder vampire until Nasada began to speak again, and only then would it be with yet another resurfacing ache. She wished he would leave, really. Fortunately, the starved girl that accompanied her did well at distracting the elf from the trivial manners of her heart. Undoubted, her eating habits had drawn the attention of those seated around them, but there was not much in the way of comments - they could all see how thin she was. "Do not apologize; even I am prone to sloppiness when I have gone without," she said, gently. She did not specify what, exactly, she meant, but her tone hinted at something more than just blood. "There are dangerous places, yes. I can afford you some protection; my master, perhaps, even more, if you would require it. However, that would be something best discussed after you're feeling better, no?" She flagged the waitress over again, taking note of Nasada's dwindling pile of food. "What would you like next, little one?"
Zondo finishes what food he had rather quickly, he did not really care for the food other than to pass the time. Glancing over towards the two females again, the elder stands, allowing a moment for his cloak to fall back into place before moving over towards them. He had things he wished to talk to Larewen about but also he was curious about the starved person whom the elf was feeding. Something felt dark about the girl and Zondo was curious what that was. Nearing an empty seat at their table, the vampire's one-eyed gaze lands on Larewen. Indicating to the seat, he asks the simple question. "Mind if I join you and your friend, Larewen?" Nasada nodded slowly, the dead hue of her gaze looking over Larewen carefully. As with most youth, she had been so quick to trust. She did not sense anything negative coming from the elven woman, and she definitely could not see any sort of telltale signs. "Just a bit more potatoes, please. And a bit more water." Suddenly her attention shifted to the stranger now as he approached the table, her body language showcasing a subtle hint of fear. It was when he addressed the woman whom had fed her, that Nasada felt a little bit more at ease. Larewen? A name. To Zondo the ebon haired youth smiled, a polite nod offered. No words, yet.
Larewen glanced back toward Zondo as he stood and then as he drew near. Within her mind, she cursed her feelings; she cursed the longing that snuck up within her as the elder vampire stopped beside her. Despite her desire to coldly deny him the ability to join them, her chin lifted. "You may," came her reply, icily, before her attention returned to Nasada. When the waitress arrived, without even looking at her, Larewen would relay the order. It was a struggle to keep her expression clear, especially with the elder vampire so near to her. "Do you have a name, little one?" she asked of the ebon haired girl, curiously. Zondo nods and pulls the chair out from under the table, sitting on it as he watches the two. He can tell from the tone of the elf that he should just remain quiet for the moment and observe. He wanted to learn about the starving girl so he was content to just let Larewen ask the question before he begins to ask his own.
Nasada finished off the remainder of her water, waiting for that next refill. In the mean time, she politely greeted Zondo when Larewen allowed him to sit with them. "Hello." she said with a smile. To Larewen's question, the girl immediately went to answer, but the strangest thing happened. "Oh. yes. My name is...." she paused. "My...name is..." What was going on? She could not recall her own name. That was impossible! She had been with it for so many years. She heard it one hundred times a day! "My...my name..." she tried again. No matter how hard she thought, it just wouldn't come to light. Frustrated, she reached up to hold her head, almost as if a dull ache had begun. It was when her fingertips met with the scar upon her forehead than finally an answer would be spit out. Her voice was cold. "Nasada. You can call me Nasada."
Xersom entered with a simplicity that belied his ancient age and the vast, almost incalculable power that he held; it was the parting of the hinged portal and the breasting of the restaurant threshold by the virtue of a hobbled gait. Strides limped but with the aid of an old and gnarled cane of sturdy wood, the man was dressed in the worn and weathered robes of a hermit -all of which was a stark contrast against a quite realistic faux face and youthful features.
Silence stole over Larewen faster than anything ever had when the girl finally spat out her name. Though her heart still ached with the nearness of the man she loved, it paled in comparison to the name that fell from the ebon-haired girls lips. "No," she said, her tone taking on an unusual coldness for a brief moment. Then, her features softened again and she leaned forward slightly, scrutinizing the ebon-haired girl. She felt Nasada's presence, but it did not seem to be coming from the girl; only that darkness that teased Larewen, that was the reason she had offered her assistance. Something told the dark sorceress that it wasn't coincidence that had guided the name from the girl's mouth though. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Nasada," she said finally, her tone once more soft and gentle.
Zondo kindly tipped his head, giving his own response oh a hello back to the girl. As the girl struggled to recall her name, the Elder's was taken aback by the name that finally fell from the woman's lips. It was not totally unexpected, he felt the presence long before he approached the two. "That's interesting." Speaking out loud more to himself than anyone else.
Nasada thanked the waitress once she finally arrived with her next helping of potatoes, quietly digging into them while she contemplated. It quite disturbed her as to why she could not remember a simple word. She could remember her childhood. Her parents. Siblings. Even that time the nasty boy threw mud at her when she was five. It was just so strange. The sound of the door stole Nasada's attention for a moment, a quick observation of the newest stranger to enter. A polite smile should their gaze meet, and then she would address Larewen once again. "And you as well, miss. If it hadn't been for you, I probably would have been lunch to someone or...something else."
Larewen glanced to the door as well when the newest patron entered and a wicked grin once more stole across her features. "Good evening," she called out to Xersom and then, with a gesture of a gloved hand, she indicated the remaining chair at their table. "Would you care to join us, Ancient One?" That was the name she'd given the dragon, it seemed, for it was how she showed her respect for him. However, Zondo's input regarding the girl's name would quickly draw her attention back to Nasada. She watched as the girl's expression became perplexed, and took note of the fact that Nasada had missed her initial reaction to the name. Instead of commenting further on the new discovery - that this girl was somehow connected to a powerful entity long gone from this world, as far as she was aware, - Larewen reached across to touch one of Nasada's hands with her gloved fingertips. "I won't let you become someone's lunch, little one. In fact, I'll put you up with a place to stay and enough gold to get you buy for the time-being." Her words were punctuated with a gentle smile before she glanced sideways at Zondo. It only took looking at him to stir those feelings once more, but the stare cast his way would not betray her longing for him, but rather the necessity to keep the ebon-haired girl under watch.
Xersom might've been observed in a cursory glance, but his attention was twisted for those intense and faux eyes to fall upon Larewen. It was toward her, regardless of her company, that the man began his hobble of a walk and the closer proximity might give way to the closer-than-cursory scrutiny of his frame. Aside from his face, which would be revealed to be a very realistic and fleshy mask in its charming, handsome glory, his skin was marred by an infernal litany of a language of demons and Dark Immortals; one unknown by man and mortal alike. It was only due to Nasada's dark heritage as a member of the race spawned by the Nameless King that she might be able to read it, at least in flashes like subliminal messages splayed over a program; words that foretell the destruction of Lithrydel in the eternal duel between Tiaren and the Nameless King alongside the hundreds of Dark and Light Immortals in eternal turmoil, and Sacrilus to herald that destruction as Arrecation's general. Larewen's words intercepted the ancient one's direct path to curb his limped gait to wane, ebb, and finally cease, "Have you put thought into your survival as an apprentice of mine, like the Dread Lords before you?" His voice was sinister and soothing, like a madman's lullaby.
Zondo looks up at the one that Larewen called ancient one just to give him a nod, the elder's standard form of greeting it would seem. Turning back to Nasada, the man tilts his head to the side, listening to what Larewen tells the girl. He does not go without catching the look from Larewen that she must be thinking the same thing that he is. The girl must be protected especially if she has ties in some way to the chaotic being that once was a terror within these lands but also someone that he had respected in a twisted way.
Nasada was quite surprised by the generosity that Larewen had been able to bestow upon the young vagrant girl. A meal was one thing, but a roof? Gold? "I... don't know what to say. I just.." before she could finish a cold chill ran along her spine; pallid eyes shifting to the newest stranger that had approached the table. There was something about Xersom's presence that set the young woman off. She began to shake, her pupils shrinking as she looked over his strange garb and manner of dress. Small flashbacks of her near fatal experience began to surface; Beads of sweat beginning to form along her pale brow. There was something terrible familiar in all of this, but she just didn't know what. Taking a nervous sip of water, she tried to appear calm, a false smile forced upon her features. She glanced to Zondo, and then to Xersom, before finally returning to Larewen. "...Thank you."
Gheneroc intervened for just a moment, activating Larewen's magical mark. Gheneroc sensed Nasada's confusion, and perhaps a bit of uncertainty. Gheneroc spoke through Larewen's voice, using her as a magical puppet. For those magically attuned, Gheneroc's presence could be felt, his dragon fear actually seeping through the Chain that marked Larewen's body. "Think nothing of it, Nasada. As long as you might return the favor. There is a cave to the north east, and a dragon that lies there. You may seek refuge with him, your comforts will be sought after." Larewen traced a small circle over the table and a portal actually opened and up floated a wand, beautifully crafted and solid. The portal soon closed, but the wand hovered. "Accept this wand when you wish to discuss your new role."
Larewen watched as Xersom approached and in lieu of his words, she dipped her head. Just before her mouth opened in response to his query, the possession of her body would slip. There was no struggle; the Chain she bore allowed Gheneroc to take full control of his consort's body, after all. She watched as he guided her mouth and hands, presenting the wand for Nasada to take. Only when that moment had passed would she finally be able to answer Xersom. "I am still confident that I could survive your teaching, but my master is not comfortable with the risks that would come along with dual apprenticeship. For that reason, he has provided me with two conditions: first, I must complete my training wit him; second, he would wish to be present. Though I am not certain whether he meant physically or through domination of my mind." She did not speak of Gheneroc's lack of faith in her loyalty, but it was implied. Zondo frowns as he hears the dragon's voice emitting from Larewen's lips. The wand appearing on the table only annoys the Elder more and yet he keeps to himself, not wanting to cause problems he just sits back in his chair, content on observing the things going on from the nervous girl to the deadly apprenticeship.
Xersom 's longer-than-a-simple glance at Nasadamight've implied some form of recognition, but perhaps only in the magnitude of belied power and imminent darkness rather than any name or features even if the ancient being, with eclipsing power and darkness, could possibly see beyond the self-deception that the woman wrought. After all, Sacrilus did not know Nasada, and the vice versa was not probable in the eras that the demon general and fragment of the Nameless King lied dormant and isolated subsequent to his master's defeat and the destruction of the rest of the seven. But it was quick that his faux gaze returned toward Larewen and X found himself silently scrutinizing Gheneroc's consort, but moreso than that; he was peering at Gheneroc himself beyond the eyes of the woman that the dragon sought to see through, though no ire crossed his features. "The second condition I cannot abide, daughter of Eilan. It is unfortunate, but I do not doubt you will flourish under your master's teaching. It would be safer, after all." His walking stick came before him in order for both hands to rest atop it, a glance given to Zondo, then Nasada, and back to Larewen, "Why the following?" It might've been an odd question, but it would be Gheneroc that would understand the inquiry.
Nasada was far too overwhelmed. Role? Dragon? Master? What exactly was going on? Given everything that she had been through, such an opportunity might be the best thing to come her way. A new chance to learn! However, why did she feel so strange about this all? And who exactly was this strange... man that spoke with Larewen? For some reason Nasada became startled. Frantic. She began to breathe heavily, her chair sliding suddenly backward. "I...I.." she started. Quite suddenly, the woman turned and hurried out the door, running off into the night. Nasada has to call it there on this end. Nearly 4am, hah. Thanks for the RP folks. Will be around tomorrow sometime. Until then, have a good night!
Gheneroc thought it was going rather well. Maybe Nasada needed some time. Gheneroc decided to answer Xersom's inquiry. "I have a nation to burn." One could practically hear the dragon's growling voice through Larewen's voice box.
Larewen listened to Xersom's words, her lips pressing into a thin line. Despite Gheneroc's presence within her mind at the moment, the elf, almost defiant of her master, said coolly, "Then I will work on fixing that issue; I want you to teach me, and I am willing to make sacrifices, if need be, to do that." She seemed not to be aware of Zondo's concern with the deadly teachings that could lay ahead of her. Her attention was snared then as Nasada took flight, and just as she moved to rise to her feet, Gheneroc's growl rumbled forth from the depths of her throat.
Zondo watches as Nasada takes flight, wondering just exactly is going on with the girl. His thoughts however are interrupted by the growling of the dragon as he talks. "It seems like someone is always wanting to burn something for some reason or another." A sigh passes his lips as he reaches into his cloak to withdraw a flask from inside. The container is pulled open and a drink taken. As he pulls it from his lips his tongue runs across them to make sure none of the red liquid is left behind before he returns the container to the pocket within his cloak.
Xersom listened moreso to the growl of Gheneroc's words through the mouth of the woman rather than her actual determination to become apprenticed to the ancient and dark teacher, though only out of the resolve that either Larewen would prove her words correct or remain in that dismissal; Nasada's departure was treated with a similar lack of passion. Faux green eyes trailed her retreating form before he spoke in that sinister and soothing voice, "A pity she has not kept the form of my soldier, though her mind is absent as well." He mused, before he returned his attention toward Larewen, and beyond to Gheneroc in the midst of Zondo's irrelevant observation. "Keep in mind our deal. I will come to pay and collect in due time." A final look toward Zondo, who seemed prevalent in the last couple meetings between Sacrilus and the female, before the man with the cane twisted and hobbled his departure.
Gheneroc turned Larewen's gaze to Xersom so the dragon could see through the vampire's eyes. "Of course. I recall our arrangement. Come, and I will honor it."
Larewen glanced in Xersom's direction in lieu of his remark regarding Nasada. The Ancient One's statement did not seem entirely correct to her; the way in which her askance of a name had been answered denoted that there was still a presence of his mind within her, only that it was locked away - by what, she'd love to know. Another glance was cast in Zondo's direction and Xersom's observations were, most definitely, accurate. Of the three times she'd thus crossed paths with the dragon, twice had been in the presence of Zondo. Even Gheneroc was likely to notice that, for this was the second time he was present at the same time that the elder vampire was, though this time it was through her eyes. When Gheneroc's speech had once more concluded in lieu to an arrangement made, Larewen finally abandoned her chair. Gold was left upon the table in exchange for Nasada's meal and then the woman moved toward the exit. She had faith the girl, oblivious to what she was, would return to her; she had showed her kindness and hospitality, even stopped her from almost making a mistake that could have proved fatal prior to their meal. No, Larewen's destination was Gheneroc's cave, to push for her next lesson; she wanted to complete her apprenticeship and then work on changing the conditions so that Xersom might agree to them.