RP:(Avian) Pride and (Drowish) Prejudice

Part of the Restoration of Lithrydel Arc

This is a Healer's Guild RP.

Summary: Emilia and Thamalys bump into Encara. A Genasi, an Avian, and a Half-Drow... it may sound like a joke, but the atmopshere does get quite tense in a matter of a few words only. And yet, despite the silly pride of the Blue, some useful information about the Alliance is exchanged... what now? Time will tell!

Frostmaw: Continued Path

Within this place you see a sign hanging to your north which reads. "The Dragon Scale". above the words on the metal sign you see a frost giant with a tower shield, the hero seems to be taking cover behind the object from a dragons breath attack. To your east you only see a large wall that blocks your path, while south leads toward the main road. A frost giant wearing animal pelts and leather seems to be standing against a door to your west, however, his large build blocks your path, and the look upon his features are dark. With a low tone the giant speaks. "You bring what we want.. We buy.." The only hint the giant seems to give is that the items they may buy are illegal to sell…

--

Thamalys was right in the middle of something. What exactly, well, that was rather hard to tell. As a start, the Blue was walking. Or trying to, while with both hands folding a massive piece of what seemed to be… white fabric? A bit too heavy, though, judging by the number of insults escaping the grey lips of the Healer, and shaped way too oddly. In any case, there was that, and the walking, and the talking too, the latter addressing the tiny features of the Ice Genasi most likely not more than a steps away from the winged shapes of the Avian. “I am telling you, these people are becoming greedy by the minute. Only a few months ago, we could have walked away with so much more silver still in our pockets…” was complaining the Spellblade, barefooted as always notwithstanding the awful chill engulfing Frostmaw as per usual. Leathery pants of a rusty shade of black, and a loose shirt of mithril, loosely covering the tattooed, pale skin of the Healer, would have defined the entire clothing decorating the Avian. Across his shoulder, a massive satchel and a cumbersome sets of laces, holding the towering presence of the Gossamer Halberd squarely in place. Snow, as always, it had to be snow, merrily flocking around. Not that he minded that much, but at that stage the impossibly long, ivory dreadlocks swaying from head to waist would have been reduced to the ugliest of the soaked tangles.

Emilia walked alongside the Winged one as a distance just enough away that she was not in the way of his massive wings. Like him she was barefooted, however Em left no prints in the snow. It was as if she was floating along instead of treading in the snow. Similar to him she wore attire not meant for the chill of Frostmaw, her blue gown meant for summer down in the lower lands. Next to Em walked a black-ice hand that looked similar to a spider pet from a far. Chuckling as they exited the shop Em answered, “You know I bet you are right. The prices keep going up now down. Now I would offer you a hand, but Righty seems to have a mind of its own..” The Genasi said as she pointed with her stump toward the independent body part walking along.

Encara may have spent years in Frostmaw but she's never quite acclimatised to the weather - drow are suited to the perpetual heat of the Underdark, after all, but while the City of War is about as far as she can get from that, the snow wasn't enough to drive her away. Bundled up under a thick winter-green cloak, layers of leather and warm clothing under that, Encara is sufficiently protected against the frigid air. Standing taller than most of her kind and with her large bladed bow slung across her body, she presents an intimidating target; Frost Giants pay her little mind but various humans and elves quicken their pace as they pass, eager to escape the cold appraisal of Encara's gaze. The drow skulks around outside a dilapidated timber building that looks as if it frequently hosts disreputable company, hardly leaving an imprint on the ground despite her irritable pacing. It seems as though she's waiting for somebody, but in reality, she's simply trying to keep warm. Encara is glad to be up and moving again at least, even if her right arm is still not fully healed. As she swings around and tracks her way back to the other end of the building, scarlet eyes fall upon a sight that strikes a chord of familiarity in her: a small black creature skittering along the ground pulls her focus and Encara comes to a sudden pause. Her lips pull into a frown when she deduces that it is not her tiny drider companion, but appears to be a… hand. A touch of bemusement crosses the androgynous drow's features. She lifts her gaze to study the people the hand is following, lingering a moment on the form of a diminutive woman before shifting to inspect the towering avian she walks with. Encara scrunches her nose. What an odd couple.

Thamalys rolled his solid blue eyes in response to the Wintry Lady’s reference to her own hand. He knew she meant no retribution, and yet a part of the Blue would have never been entirely free of the knowledge he was to very one to be blamed for that self-walking limb. “Apparently…” he just noted the Avian, following the disturbing motion of the Genasi’s hand converging toward some darkish figure, partially covered by the swirling snow. “You have to be joking… not a single soul along our entire way in, and - now - …” he groaned the Blue, suddenly turning to his heels and crouching, frantically trying to shove what was in fact a huge pelt, most likely of a white tiger, into his satchel. An attempt that was bound to fail miserably, given the relative dimensions of hide and bag. “Er… would you stall them, please?” inquired in his not-flattest tone the Blue. “The last I need at the moment is some especially lawful Frostmawian moaning about the rights of wintry mountain animals, aye?” sort of pleaded the Spellblade, gesturing with his bony face toward the approaching figure.

Emilia smiled at the Blue with those icy-eyes giving off a most sweet yet glaring look all mixed into one as he request, “Yes, Sir.” the tone was one of play. If it was nearly anyone else she would have let him get into trouble for the pelt he carried, yet it was him. It was that black hand of hers that took action first, running over like a lost puppy to its owner to the being in the green cloak. Emi herself turned to chase after Righty along the way to Encara. “Come back here, you silly one,” the Genasi said in an almost childish tone. The Healer was allowing her companion the time to get his things in affair. She could be a perfect actress if such a thing existed. Rightly came to a dead stop just in front of Encara. If it had eyes it would be staring up at the cloaked figure, yet there was no eyes, just a black-ice hand there in the snow. A false half smile on light blue eyes as Emi herself stopped a few feet away from Encara, “Sorry, there. Righty seems to have a mind of its own.”

Encara, after her initial look at the pair, is content to simply ignore them and resume pacing. Righty has other ideas, it would seem. The hand comes scrambling across the icy ground to her and the drow's first instinct is to bend down and lift it up out of the snow, as she would to Khova, before tucking it into a warm space in her coat. Luckily, she restrains herself and everyone present is spared Encara stuffing Emilia's hand where it doesn't belong. The little horror skids to a halt and gives her… well, it's not quite a look, but the impression of one, leaving Encara to wonder what it's after for only a few seconds before its owner calls out to the thing. "Uh." Emilia's broken arm gets a glance before the drow's gaze flicks back down to the unattached limb at her feet, her mind quickly putting two and two together. She's seen some weird things in her time — par for the course with a family like hers — but this might take the cake. "I take it that's yours," Encara mutters. "What did you do, stick your arm in a bear trap?" The joke is accompanied by a grin that might have been disarming and good-natured were it anyone else, but on Encara it's just vicious. After a moment, she peers across the top of the woman's head toward her companion and lifts a brow. "You should probably help your friend - he looks like he could use a hand." Oh dear.

Thamalys, somehow, managed to stuff the furry thing into the satchel. Not a work of art, to be fair, but hopefully enough to hide the loot from those drowsy eyes. Just then, the latest of Encara’s comments carved its way through the cold air. No doubt, most would have took the opportunity to crack a smile. The Blue, however, seemed mightily unimpressed - stuck-up Avians, what can you do? “Fine, I am fine, I am perfectly fine…” noted the Spellblade, in a glimmering vortex of silvery feathers and knotty braids turning on his heels to face the shadowy onlooker, raising on his feet and in the very meantime shouldering said leathery bag. “Just trying to accommodate some of the outstanding goods from the Scale… as you know, they can be quite hefty to carry, from time to time…” carefully probed the Avian, patting the puffy bash and this time bringing himself a tad closer to the half-drow. Immediately, the Ageless Black harbouring within the mind go the Winged Beast would have stirred some thought while savouring the aura exhuming from that cloaked figure. An instant only, though, before the Dragon acknowledged the presence of the Genasi - thus swiftly retreating into the deepest pits of the Blue’s logic. The latter, though, did not fail to notice the whole process. What was hidden behind those garments, then? Much as a bird of prey, the Avian would have encircled the path of the Genasi, steadily getting himself closer to the two - or three, if one would have been keen to count the blackish limb of old. “Not entirely sure we have ever had the pleasure to meet. We shall fix that, don’t you think?” begun the Blue in a tone that he considered as his merriest inflection - that is, slightly better than utterly flat - canting his massive cranium to one side as if to judge in better detail what sort of creature he was dealing with. The latter part of that sentence… not necessarily clear whether the Spellblade meant to address Half-drow or Genasi, or both.

Emilia cracked a laugh from those blue lips, a sound like ice breaking beneath the feet echoing into the air, “Bear trap? Silly One, I cut it off myself no trap involved.” The sound of the voice of the Genasi almost cruel yet casual sounding. What sane person just cuts off their hand and then laughs about it as if it was nothing of importance. Righty lifted an index finger, waved at the cloaked one, or was it waggin its finger at it. Hard to tell. No soon it was scampering itself around Encara in circles, endless circles. Around and around and around Encara. Emilia never stopped it, but this was about the time that Thamalys came to join the two and a partial beings. Standing next to the man nearly two feet taller than her the Genasi rested a head on his side, leaning on him for no reason at all. Those snow covered curls falling around the little woman like a cloak to the floor, oddly not even wetted by the wintery stuff. Those eyes glanced up to Thamalys then back to the other one wrapped up like a green cabbage, “I don’t know this one either, yet, Righty seems to possibly like it? Or perhaps finds it a play thing? I am not sure.” Said black hand still running countless circles around Encara.

Encara doesn't bother to disguise the frosty glare she shoots Emilia's way when the genasi calls her 'silly' so casually. Drow are known to kill over lesser slights, but this one has yet to make any sudden moves. Frowning at the woman, then dropping her gaze as Righty springs into motion and begins skittering like an excitable spider around her legs, she resists the urge to kick it and see how far it flies. "If you wanted a pet, surely you could have used someone else's hand." Her focus soon shifts to the approaching avian, however - despite her own height often putting her head-and-shoulders above her kin, Encara has grown accustomed to being stared down at by taller surface creatures, but that does not mean she's comfortable with it. Lifting her jaw, she meets him with her own leonine gaze; a sharp-eyed silent challenge. "'Accommodate,'" she repeats with a derisive snort. "So, stealing?" The accusation is delivered deadpan and Encara glances at Thamalys' overstuffed bag and considers alerting the guards. Then she remembers she doesn't care. "I couldn't care less what you get up to." Of course, the company she's begun to keep might not, but that's neither here or there. "I am Encara Val'thyrion, a ranger. I make sure Lionel O'Connor keeps breathing." Actually, Encara has yet to be given any formal position within the alliance, but she figures her words aren't entirely incorrect. Leaning her weight on one hip, she gestures to the two expectantly and awaits her answer. The drow's left hand and arm are encased up to the elbow in shiny black metal gauntlet - a whisper of some darker power lingers within but it is subtle, for the magic is currently inactive.

Thamalys slowly brought his right hand to his face, bony fingers absentmindedly scratching the base of the Avian’s neck - apparently. A keen eye would have probably picked up a vain attempt to mask the ever-moving ink of the Blue painting yet another icy-shaped branch, presently dangerously growing toward the Winged Beast’s face. It tended to happen, when anyone’s words failed to please him wholly. “That particular hand…” begun the Spellblade with a sort of low growl, “… has been severed to save myself from a rather nasty curse. And. If you have paid for it, one can hardly label anything as stolen, can he?” proceeded the Avian flatly addressing the rather direct accusation, then hinting a more purposeful step toward the Ranger, a few streaks of gold staining the blue of his eyes, accompanied - against his own will - by a few droplets of liquid blue fire blossoming from his tattoos, only to meet the frosty ground with a ominous hiss. Things were bound to assume a quite awful shade of crimson already, were if not for the last words of the Half-Drow. “Lionel? Surely not…” dismissed the Blue with a single sharp gesture of his right hand, incidentally, by then, entirely ablaze. “Since when the alliance lowered itself to consider creatures such as yourself? No wings, no magic talent at all… a bow! Is that your very personal guarantee of the Catalian’s wellbeing? Don’t make me laugh…” And yet, he stopped, if he would have allowed to, a single step away from the cloaked figure in front of him. Part of his disgust was genuine - no matter how long he spent away from the Flying City, the manners of the Blue were still terrible when he found himself displaced even a tad bit away from absolute bliss - but most of it was intended to probe the veracity of said claim. Such a shadowy thing, in charge of the single most important piece of the Alliance? The Winged Beast shook his head in mild disbelief. Were those the same people who almost sacrificed three young lives of theirs to pull a stunt in Scherezade just a few days before? Acutely aware of the presence of the Icy One, the Avian waited for the fog to clear - in the hope the Wintry Lady would have managed to keep her poise. Nobody, Blue included, desired otherwise...

Emilia watched the ordeal between Thamalys and Encara with a bit of interest in those icy blue eyes. It had been some time since she had seen anyone or anything cause such a rise of anger in the very bones of the blue. Righty had stopped making circles around the drow known now as Encara and retreated to running up the side of The Blue to perch itself atop his head, half tucked into those knotty dreads. Even severed from the body of the Genasi the hand itself was cold as ever, enimiting the same winter aura of the Genasi. It took a bit of well practiced effort for the Healer, but she managed to keep her cool. The fog lifted and parted allowing the green cloaked woman to be visible again along with the tiny Genai sporting a few patches of pink flesh having been standing too close to the avain when we got all heated up. Reaching a hand over she grabbed his hand with her one only hand, giving it a good squeeze to calm him down. The chill of her touch mixed with the warmth still coming off him made for a loud hiss accompanied by a burst of steam. Still holding that hand squeeze, “Breath, Thamalys. A person weilding a bow can be very dangerous in the right hands. I used to be well versed, best around until everything I touched froze over and busted. Beyond that think...Who else can you think of that is as sneaky as a drow-kind? The are most stealthy, skilled in their own right, and during the dark hours they do blend into the darkness well. I am sure that Lionel wouldn’t allow a dangerous one to be of a guard to him, but even as much as the drow can be cruel creatures from below ground this darkness-chaos taking over the land affects them too. Natural order and peace and chaos doesn’t happen without their kind. It is just a fact of nature.” A small rant, but it ended as her gaze landed on Encara again. No smile crossed those death colored lips, yet she spoke to her, “Emilia, pleasure to meet you Encara.”

Encara scoffs at the tattooed avian. "Depends if the payment was acceptable," she mutters back before dropping the topic. Mention of his curse prompts a mild sense of intrigue, especially as she questions the need for -Emilia's- hand to be removed instead of his own, but she has no desire to press further. The man's predatory advance steals all of her attention away, however. Ever a prideful thing, Encara is not easily intimidated and meets him head-on with a snarl, stepping forward to close the gap even as Thamalys' ink blossoms with fire - head tilting back, she glares up at him with thinly-veiled contempt. "I tell you my name and you presume to know everything about me. I never said the bow is all I have - if you were smarter, you'd have considered that before opening your mouth." But while Thamalys is currently wielding his power in a fiery threat display, the drow keeps her own in check. Shadows preserve her, though, this bird is arrogant. Encara scowls at him, inches from his face. "I would tear down your precious floating city before I'd allow any harm to come to that man, and the likes of you wouldn't stop me. So am I bound." During their confrontation, Emilia has sidled up against Thamalys to offer a less heated opinion - Encara's sharp gaze cuts into her as she speaks and she clicks her tongue in annoyance, but appears somewhat grateful for what the Genasi has to say. "I'd be useless if I wasn't dangerous," she corrects, unable to stop herself, then sighs and shakes her head, choppy hair falling in silver waves about her shoulders. "But you're right - the drow are part of this world too, though many would prefer to ignore that fact. Kahran is an enemy to all so long as he threatens Lithrydel." A beat and she offers Emilia a knife-edged smile. "Charmed, Emilia."

Thamalys still retained a cruel grin painted onto this broken, thin lips. “Smarter!” chuckled the Blue, an ugly sound, not necessarily meant to be heard by anything different from a bird. “Oh, I did consider it… as a matter of fact, I now -do- know that, bow aside, you have other aces up your sleeves. Now, you…” but before the boundless pride of the Avian managed to shatter the Frostmawian quiet, the Winged Beast felt the frosty touch of the Genasi bringing some more clarity into his thoughts. The rims of those silvery wings were still twitching, as if threatening to unfold, but the ink yield - it always did, if the Icy One put a real effort into her rebukes. “Well, I… I suppose you are right…” conceded the Blue, exhaling a monumental mass of air while taking a couple of steps back, the last of those flaming tears sizzling into the snow at his feet. “It’s just… well, I am running out of trust, these days. Especially…” he gestured, obviously hinting at the obvious heritage of the Half-Drow. He just could not help himself - a part of him would have wanted to just gut the shadowy creature. Somewhere, Korkhoran was having a proper laugh. “If you are to be trusted, though…” added the Blue, lowering his gaze to hopefully meet the scarlet of the Ranger’s eyes, “… you have my gratitude for protecting Lionel - albeit, of all people I would have imagined he could have taken care of himself most of the time. We…” and here he would have exchanged a rapid glance with the Wintry Lady, “… have not formal place within the Alliance, but we are grateful for what they did for the Flying City. Frostmaw did not betray us - and Avians rarely forget.” As a start, the Blue would have noted that there appeared to be more in that Ranger than a simple bow - and yet, not even that bit of a show managed to bring those hidden feats to the surface. A cautious creature ~ I supposed they’d have to be… ~ silently commented the Spellblade. One more step, possibly bringing with him the Wintry Lady in an inelegant dance. Then, another sigh. Healers, Frostmawians, Friends of the Alliance. Was race enough to spoil that encounter after all. The Blue was torn, but the Icy One mattered. “Thamalys. My name is Thamalys….” eventually conceded the Avian, even hinting the tiniest of the bows. “Chances are our paths will cross again, Ranger, if the Alliance is bound to endure.” concluded the Winged Beast, already sidestepping to clear the path of the Ranger - and put some distance in between. “You go ahead, Emi. Wait not for me, I need some air…” went the Avian, in clear need stretch his wings. And with that, the Winged Beast would have briefly nodded to the two of them both, soon after dashing through the alley and disappearing beyond a shiny display of silver and white.