RP:A Drow Slave in Frostmaw

Part of the Surface Tension Arc

Synopsis: Escaped slave, Nymh, travels up to Frostmaw to request sanctuary from Steward Hildegarde - but this proves complicated. Hildegarde highlights the difference between sanctuary and refuge. She grows frustrated with Nymh but eventually they come to some agreement.

Academy of Aramoth

Nymh thought Frostmaw unbelievably cold. He had little protection from it. He'd purchased clothing more amenable for the cold, but couldn't afford much more than that. His magic wasn't advanced enough to do him any good against the elements... its talents were focused elsewhere, and now, he had some reason to regret it. The harsh land earned its name, and he'd come into the Academy searching for Hildegarde the Silver, shivering violently. He'd find himself looking and asking around for her, careful, wary... the elves looked ready to kill him already, and he was glad he'd come here before trying to approach them.

Hildegarde's hands were pressed firmly against the table she loomed over, peering at what appeared to be a map. “Mistral, I will leave it in your hands to see that the wyverns are capable of carrying visitors to the training yard to bear witness to the tournament,” she informed the Master Scout of the Eyrie politely. “I have faith in your skills and capability. Let me know if you need any further supplies or resources and I shall see to it that you have them,” she promised the elf, who curtly nodded and immediately departed; leaving Hildegarde to pore over the map.

Nymh found her inside, bent over a map. She was... tall. Huge, to him. He'd approach, carefully, and pull back his hood, revealing his drow features. "Miss... ah... Hildegarde, the Silver. Correct?" She fit the descriptions, with her distinctive scars. "I would have word with you, if you'd hear me. I come in peace." He rushed to say that last bit, unsure of the politics and alliances of this land. Slaves weren't privy to much information. What Nymh possessed along those lines was mostly stolen.

Hildegarde, upon being addressed, turned on her heel to look upon the stranger and ascertain who had come to seek her out. “That would be correct, yes,” she confirmed for him, sole eye looking him up and down in an assessing manner. Both to ascertain who he was and whether or not he had any weapons that might pose a particular threat to her or her people, which she doubted. Or at least seemed to, by the manner in which she stood and spoke: she seemed to be off-guard, relaxed. “It is considered polite to offer someone your name before you exchange many words with them. Especially since you have me at such a disadvantage, Sir…?”

Nymh nodded. "Of course. I am... Nymh. Just Nymh. I'm an escaped slave of House D'artes, the... surviving gray elf of the century. I came to frost maw in the hopes that the wood elf blood running through my veins would earn me..." Family? "Allies. I... need safe refuge. You've offered it to the wood elves of sage. I'm hoping you'll protect... me as well. From the drow. From the wood elves, possibly... from the powerful Vampire that thinks to lay claim to me for the accursed blade at my side." One hip bore the small red dagger, the other, his ebony ocarina. "I have... I have nowhere else to go. I'm scared. I've barely managed to survive this long. I don't want to die." Or find himself tortured, and enslaved once more. His one eye was pleading, and moistened near to tears. He looked anywhere but at her own eye, unable to make eye contact as he begged. He felt so pathetic... knew he was. He ran a hand through his hair, assuming this would end... badly.

Hildegarde did not interrupt Nymh as he spoke, instead allowing him to detail his tale and his dilemma. “Firstly, thank you for letting me know your name, Nymh,” she said politely with a little incline of her head, “Frostmaw offered refuge not only to the elves but to the drow and other species who did not wish to be caught up in the war. So do not think that this is a place only for the elves,” she corrected him, but her tone was gentle. It wasn’t expected that every stranger – let alone a runaway slave – would know such a thing. “All are welcome to stay in Frostmaw, Nymh. But… your situation is a difficult one. The Queen, Satoshi, is allied to the Patron of your House. I do not know what that would mean for you, but to me, slavery is a certainly a bad practice and one that is not permitted in Frostmaw.” Willing servitude, however, was. “It’s… well. Not an easy situation.”

Nymh felt his lip quiver. "To the Patron D'artes?" He'd only ever seen Gevurah D'artes. He was fortunate not to have met the Patron. He shook his head, hand on the back of his neck. "Refuge... but the queen herself might hand me back on a platter?" He fell to his knees. There was no safe refuge. The drow reach extended too far. He didn't know what to do. Would it be wise to try his luck with the wood elves, hope they didn't murder him? They'd likely take him prisoner, at least, possibly torture him to be sure they got whatever useful information they could. And then, at some point, D'artes would ask for their slave back.... might already have... and he'd be delivered. Where did he go from here? Was he already dead, and too stupid to know it?

Hildegarde raised her hand to catch his attention and to dispel his worries, “I said I do not know what that would mean for you. Do not take that to mean you would be handed back on a platter.” The knight waited for the lad to calm a little bit before she proceeded. “I know the Queen well and I imagine her reasoning to permit you to stay in Frostmaw would be… well, if your owner was too foolish and careless enough to lose you, then they are not fit for ownership. You have outwitted them and thus earned your freedom,” she said, thinking Satoshi would presumably think along these lines. “Refuge and sanctuary are two different things, though… and you must be wise about which one you are choosing.”

Nymh looked to her then, hoping she spoke truth. "Drow, vampires, wood elves... I can't survive on my own. I don't know where I am, I don't have... allies." Friends, that was a word he'd wanted to use one day. Not likely. His ideal of a better world was a fools dream, after all. "I... I beg for sanctuary. I want to live."

Hildegarde raised her hand yet again, “Do you know the difference between sanctuary and refuge?” she asked him. The knight waited a moment before explaining the interpretation and difference between the two, “Sanctuary is a more political term. It means you are bound to stay in one location. If you leave it, then you void the protection offered to you and you are able to be captured. Refuge… Refuge is a fresh start, I suppose. You would be a free man to do as you please, so long as you do your bit for Frostmaw. All refugees and citizens must contribute.”

Nymh nodded his head. "I know what it means, thank you. The difference that matters is, will you give me the protection I need? Against such an array of foes, possible foes. Can you give me sanctuary? I don't just need somewhere to hide. My enemies will come for me. So, you tell me, Hildegarde the Silver. Am I safer freeing myself up to flee when they come, or relying on you?" Could she offer him true sanctuary?

Hildegarde looked at the runaway slave in a near flabbergasted way. “You presume much, Nymh, don’t you? You do not know me, my city or my people and yet you beg sanctuary and you twist your words to make it sound as if you must rely solely upon me for your survival.” The woman stared at him for a long moment, never one to enjoy feeling as though someone was trying to poke her into a certain decision. “I am giving you the option of refuge. You are a runaway, you are not exactly a political prisoner nor are you a criminal beyond that of the law in Trist’oth.” The Silver paused for a long moment, feeling as though her pride had been poked at a little bit by the half-drow. “I cannot sacrifice the lives of many for the life of one,” she said in a solemn tone, “that is the duty I have to my people. Accept refuge and make a life for yourself here, make friends and allies. That is what I am offering you, the life of a free man. Not the life of a little songbird in a cage.”

Nymh nodded. "Aye. Then you cannot offer me sanctuary." He'd rise, his tone solemn. "I thank you, for your gracious offer of refuge, Hildegarde the Silver." It would not be enough, when they came. He was on his own. "I am sorry for... twisting my words. You have a... duty to your people. Of course." He would say nothing of protecting the weak, the defenseless. He had wounded her pride, and he had little doubt he would soon wear out his welcome, and her patience. There was no mercy, and no safety for him, in this world. He would try his luck with the wood elves. If they would not take him for an ally, he'd be safer as their prisoner, tortured or no, than he would be on his own. It was a harsh world for the weak. He'd give one more sorrowful glance to Hildegarde, before he turned to leave. All he could do was what he'd always done... try his best to survive, to escape the attention of those stronger than him, and desiring his blood.

Hildegarde stared at him with a mixture of annoyance and shock. How could one person be quite so foolish? To have come so far from the Underdark and yet not see what was right before them? Perhaps Nymh had spent far too long in the dark. “Do not give me that sad little puppy dog look,” she said sternly, taking a step towards him. “I am beginning to think it was sheer luck and not skill that helped you escape from your master,” she said with a grimace, “and I do not say that lightly. You are a fool. Do you not understand what refuge truly is? Refuge is a chance to make this place your home. If you obey the law, if you do your part, you are a citizen of Frostmaw. And a citizen of Frostmaw is protected by the guards, by the army, by me. Sanctuary is being locked in a gilded little cage until negotiations are had and you are presumably handed over.” The woman shook her head, “So stop pouting, you child, and start seeing the world for what it is. Start listening *carefully*, rather than trying to hear only what you want to hear. You have the choice, now, to either leave or to stay and make something of yourself now that I have so blatantly explained my wording to you.”

Nymh narrowed his gaze. "Do you think for a moment that will matter when the vampire and the drow come, in the night? Will you be there to protect me, from the greatest assassins in this world, if I am on the streets of Frostmaw? You call me many things, but a fool I am not. You are arrogant, Hildegarde the Silver. Far too arrogant, if you truly believe as much. I'm about as safe on your streets as I am in a Drow cell." He couldn't believe the filth spewing from her mouth. "It was luck, not skill that set me free. The prowess of a warrior named Krice. Slaves aren't well known for their supernatural capabilities." He possessed a few, but nothing incredible. "You are a dragon. A warrior of incredible reknown. And I had thought, a protector of the weak. But you cannot protect those you think fools. You will ignore their pleas, when the wolf comes for the sheep. After all, they are but fools, and sheep, are they not? They are not the sons and daughters of Aramoth." There was a malicious sneer in his voice. She sat upon a pedestal and proclaimed herself wise, but he saw no wisdom here.

Hildegarde thought Nymh was blind and foolish, much as he thought she was. “Oh, of course, all giants and sentries go to sleep at nightfall and not a single soul stirs in the night,” she said in an evidently amused tone. “You think yourself of great importance, that much is clear. And yes, all life is important, but you are being offered help in a manner which you refuse to accept or see because it is not quite to your standard. Do not think me without compassion or without love of people. I am a strategos, I am a leader. I have sacrificed few to save the many,” decisions that would never leave her. “You think me arrogant, yet I think you arrogant. I am trying to offer you help, but you want it in such a specific manner. I do not understand that, why? Why do you think yourself in such a position that I can drop everything and guard you day and night? Do you not think my city and my people are of competent skill? What is it about you that is so important that someone will send assassins after you? Do you not think that if you give me the relevant information I can do more? No. You instead demand a specific kind of protection without a real explanation. Then you sneer and become petulant when a compromise is offered to you.”

"I sneer and become petulant when I am treated as such!" He roared. "You are the one who twists words, Hildegarde! Yes, I believe I am in such grave danger. Yes, I think your giants can be snuck around in the night. I did so coming here. Easy enough to overlook a shadow you could pick out of your toes. The help you offer me is not enough. I do not expect you to drop everything and guard me, not anymore. That was a foolish notion. You would protect your pride before you'd think of another living being. You are not so unlike Drow. Your armies are immune to spies, impossible to trick. Gods preserve us should Frostmaw march. I'm sure Trist'oth would crumble beneath its might in moments." Nymh shook his head. "I have told you all I have to offer. I am nothing but a run away slave. Beneath your notice." He'd turn and walk once more. Enough 'explaining' had been done today.

Hildegarde found that most of her questions had not been answered. “Do not roar at me,” she said courteously, “for I have not roared you.” The Silver shook her head at him, “I have given you options and you have spat upon them, then twisted words and poked my pride, yes. I am not without pride. I don’t much care for your opinion, petulant and rude as it is. I will not tolerate your mockery nor your bandying of words,” she said. “Insulting those you want help from is no way to survive in this world.”

Nymh shook his head. "Forgive me. I take insult easily, for one who has spent their entire life a slave." He spread his arms, in a gesture of futility. "I do not wish to bandy words further, either. I wish to look to my survival, and I must do that elsewhere. Good day to you, Hildegarde the Silver."

Hildegarde's face seemed to twitch for a little moment, a passing expression that almost said ‘how odd’. “I have known many former slaves, Nymh, and none of them have ever taken insult easily. The life of a slave is not one where you can take insult easily,” she said, expecting him to know better especially if he were a drow slave. “If that is how you feel, then I cannot stop you, but you *are* a damned fool. The wolves howl at your door and you decide to piss over an offer because it isn’t exactly how you desired. Grow up,” she told him firmly. “I don’t imagine you will be in for a quick death if you are found,” she said, though not to be cruel, more of a little thought process albeit a little insensitive on her part, “and that’s a shame. It’s a shame you will go off and likely die, given that you seem quite young and presumably have not seen much of the world.”

Nymh sneered. "Again, you prove to know nothing of me. As a slave, I lived a relatively priveleged life, thanks to my skills in stealth, and music. I was appreciated for my talents, and feared for my abilities in diplomacy. I turned ears, and earned favors, which kept me alive, and my enemies silent. Until I was bought by Gevurah D'artes. You want to know how soon I'll die, Hildegarde the Silver? I've a curse on me, bound to me for life. It will betray me to the vampire that stalks me, and I will be able to do nothing to protect myself, as I all but willing walk into her arms. No, you're protection isn't what I wanted. It isn't protection. Locked in a room, guarded, I can hope to survive. No way else. None that I see, anyhow." He shook his head, in misery. "I have not seen much of the world. When I first saw the stars, they took my breath away. The moon, it shook me to the core of my being. The trees of the forest, the sounds of the life of night. I'd never beheld such beauty! In Frostmaw, I've seen people walking about, without looking over their shoulders out of fear. I marvel at it. I cannot fathom how it is possible to think, and walk in such a manner. I envy them, and I envy you. No, your offer is not enough to protect me, of that I am assured. But don't mock me, damn you. Don't call me the fool, when you don't even know me. I am grateful for what you offer, angered that I cannot accept it, and rest my weary shoulders. I am ALONE! And the wolves do howl, at my back. There is no door between me, and them. I will feel their jaws, soon, and wonder... I will wonder..." He trailed off, lost. He was exhausted, and trembling from more than just cold. Soon, he'd be catching sickness from it, on top of everything else. Perhaps he could heal it himself, though.

Hildegarde sighed heavily for she was beginning to weary of this tautological tossing of words. “I do not want your envy. Do not assume anyone walks around here without a glance over their shoulder, that, that would be an ideal realm that I do not think anyone can go to. Or it is at least a world for the naïve.” The Silver brought her hand to her forehead and let it rest there for a long moment. She didn’t like this boy at all. Not one bloody bit. But her ire and dislike did not merit a death sentence. “Stop shouting,” she bade him, “and stop sneering, it’s an ugly expression.” The woman paused for a long minute, her face one that clearly said: shut the hell up and don’t test that warning. “You insult me, my city, my people. I understand that you want to live, but… well, you have a way of getting on the nerves. I am going to prove you wrong,” she said in a resolved tone of voice. “Where do you intend to stay?” she asked of him. “I am going to accompany you. I am going to stick by your side for the first wolf that comes knocking at your door. After that, you will see how the people of Frostmaw band together and protect their own; after that you are going to do your bit and contribute.”

Nymh blinked. "You will drop everything, when you are to lead a nation, and simply follow me around to prove me wrong?" It was... daring. His shock was evident in his voice. Where she didn't like him one bloody bit, he suddenly found a world of respect for her. He gaped, thinking to say something, and shut his mouth with an audible 'click'. Instead, he bowed. Deeply. "Thank you. Thank you." He couldn't think of anything else to say. Tears stung his eyes again. Could he rely on this woman to survive? It was a better chance than he had fathomed possible... her prowess was the stuff of legends. "I agree to your terms." He would contribute, and cease his whining. He stood rigidly now, perhaps a reaction to his newfound respect of her.

Hildegarde waved her hand in a very dismissive manner, “Don’t bow to me,” she said and not too kindly. She had no patience for bowing, not from anyone. Especially not from those who had annoyed her as spectacularly as he did. “I asked you a question, answer it,” she urged him with a little gesture of her hand as if to say ‘hurry up’.

Nymh nodded, speaking quickly. "With the wood elves. I do not know if they will harm or attempt to imprison me on sight, but I was given a letter from an elf in Kelay to hand to them. I hope it will ensure... less volatile, and smoother negotiations. I've also heard Zendor is there, who tried to save me when I was auctioned off among the Drow, and acquired by Gevurah D'artes. It is my hope that he will speak for me."

Hildegarde shook her head as he spoke of his fears in regards to the elf refugees, “They are bound by Frostmawian law, given that they are citizens here now. They cannot harm you unless you have wronged them or it is to settle a blood feud,” she explained casually, as if everyone just simply knew these things. “Zendor, that’s a name I know,” and one was she was fond of and respected. The knight grasped her halberd and hoisted it up a little bit, “Let’s go. The camp will have a fire, you can get warm there.”

Nymh nodded. "Yes ma'am." Another of those slave reactions. Once he was no longer desperate, wrought with despair and struggling to breath through his panic, obedience seemed to come to him quite naturally. He'd lead the way, and they'd travel to the wood elf camp.