RP:Blood and Silver

Part of the Something Wicked Arc

Summary: A still recovering Encara attempts, and fails, to gain entry to Fort Frostmaw or secure an audience with its Queen to discuss the monster bear attacking the City of War's citizens. As she argues with the guards at the gate, Krice catches her attention - similarly, the drow's troubles intrigue the warrior enough for him to ask for more information. The silver-haired, red-eyed, stoic pair trek to the outskirts of the forest and discuss the monster that has been consuming Encara's thoughts of late.

Frostmaw

Krice walked through the courtyard of the fort from north to south, clearly en route to exiting the safety of the massive structure. Dressed in only his usual black garb, thin black robes, and a katana strapped to his back, the man ventured into the colder climate of the outside world, braving Frostmaw's harsh everwinter without hesitation. Those who knew him had grown used to his odd lack of warm attire to combat the frost of their city's air, whilst others remained baffled - and few still cared at all. Some people nodded to him on his way out, greeting the red-eyed warrior in passing.

Encara is in the middle of a heated argument with one of the giants guarding the fortress' main gate - the drow's voice, naturally euphonious yet sharp as winter's icy chill, is the sort that would fit either a man or a woman. That same androgyny extends to Encara's angled, elven features, and to her overall figure, the shape of which is largely concealed beneath a thick cloak and several layers of leathers and armour. She's a strangely tall member of her kind, though still dwarfed by the giant. "What part of 'enormous giant-eating bear' doesn't sound important to you?" Encara snaps at the guard as she tucks a long length of silver hair behind a pointed ear. The strange man exiting the fort gets a daggered glare as the ranger taps her foot agitatedly, then calls out to him, seemingly finished with the guard, "You there! Haven't seen the Queen around, by any chance? Apparently she is 'unavailable at this time' and far too busy to hear about the monster eating her citizens." And people call drow callous!

Krice passed an inconsequential glance over the face of Encara when she noticed his exit, not before--his interest in her argument with the Giant guardsman had been next to none, though he must have heard her. Anyone would have. Such a shrill, bossy voice. Slowing to a halt once addressed by the drow, he glanced more pointedly at her face and then looked at the Guardsman, who was naught offended by the apparently angry visitor to his frozen lands. "Haven't seen the queen," answered the silver-haired warrior upon returning his attention to Encara, thereafter adding a query of his own: "'Giant-eating bear'?"

Encara continues to tap at the ground, the tempo becoming increasingly erratic with her rising annoyance. Eventually she gives up, huffing a sigh at the man's initial words and then shrugging in response to his question. "Yes, a giant-eating bear. It's rather self-explanatory." He gets a dubious look, then, before the drow steps away from the frost giant and approaches him instead - she maintains a comfortable amount of distance, however. "I am Encara Val'thyrion, a ranger and -not- an 'unruly dark elf,'" she snarls with a pointed scowl back at the guard. Racists. "For several weeks I've tracked this beast - it has eaten woodsmen and hunters, and it made the mistake of getting on my bad side." That implies there's a good side, however… which seems unlikely.

Krice watched Encara during her approach, though the Guardsman - now relieved of the drow's attention - remained in his peripheral vision. As the dark-skinned stranger recounted her tale of the giant-eating bear she'd been tracking, the warrior was silent and attentive. By her concluding words, however, his left brow quirked slightly and he asked, "You have a -good- side?" It was more rhetorical than actual, for he went on to continue the conversation about the apparent threat she had been tracking. "What's this bear's habitat?"

Encara's smile is dangerous; a barbed-wire smirk silently advises against taking that question any further. Thankfully, the stranger returns to the topic at hand and is spared a long, probably violent explanation of what exactly the drow's 'good side' entails. "It lurks in the forests north-west of the city," she says, jerking her head in the direction of the distant westerly gate. "I've encountered it multiple times and attempted to track it back to its lair with another hunter, a…" What was his name again? "…'Kahn,' I think. Really big cat. We followed the prints but were waylaid by ice trolls, a few days ago. He seems to think it dead - that a giant brought it down. I do not agree."

Krice's expression harboured its own level of tempered animosity in response to Encara's viper smirk, but he was a man of calm temperament, difficult to unsettle, near impossible to anger. Upon hearing the drow's explanation of the giant-eating bear's relative location, the warrior turned to proceed westward, exiting the fort at last - perhaps to begin tracking the beast in question.

Encara is quite used to being treated with a certain amount of suspicion and disrespect - it sort of comes with the territory of being a drow choosing to live on the surface. So she is not all that surprised when the man simply walks by her, though no less offended. With a final frown towards the guard, Encara turns to follow the mysterious stranger, her long-legged lope allowing her to easily catch and fall into step nearby him. She slants him an appraising sidelong glance. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

Krice pressed his lips together thoughtfully, though whether because of Encara's decision to tag along or because of her query remained to be seen. He did follow up with a question of his own, however, his gaze on the path ahead as he asked, "You tell me." It was quite possible that the bear had been slain, but just as possible that it had not; he had to check for himself.

Encara's not about to let someone else take a kill that rightfully belongs to her - if Krice plans to track down the beast, she will be his shadow whether he likes it or not. Dead or alive, the bear is -her- prey and anyone trying to claim it for their own will likely become the drow's next target. She snorts at his words, scarlet eyes scrutinising his choice of attire, noticeably light for Frostmaw's weather, before moving to inspect the katana strapped to his back. "Well… I hope that toothpick you're carrying is enchanted, or you might have a bit of trouble."

Krice continued onward, seemingly without bother that Encara had made herself his shadow - for reasons he didn't know, but about which he may or may not have formed theories. Her insult to the size of his weapon earned her a bland, "I'm so offended," as he squinted into the distance, acute sight aimed past the dim glow of activity on Main Street. "The forest to the north. Should I let you lead?" 'Let' being the operative word.

Encara continues while ignoring the man's remark, "The beast is enormous, its hide is tough - my enchanted arrows barely wounded it." Even Oline found herself struggling against the monster when they fought it. Together they make their way through Frostmaw's crowded streets, headed westward, Encara keeping her gaze ever-shifting over the surrounding men and women and glaring at any who stare too long, but her focus remains trained on the mysterious man at her side. He gets a sharp bark of laughter at his question, the sound maliciously amused. "Would you rather have me at your back?" she quips, knowing most would not be so comfortable with a drow stalking their footsteps. "Yes, it would be wisest to 'let' me lead. It would be wiser still to leave a hunt to the hunters and save your sword for some magnificent battle, warrior."

Krice slowed a little as Encara manoeuvred to take point, his gaze drifting across the back of her head en route to passing over the faces of other people milling about the area. His only response to her sharp remarks was a casual, "I don't care where you put yourself." Clearly, he found her so non-threatening that having a -drow- at his back didn't concern him. As they neared the forest, he slowed further until he came to a complete stop on the southern border, glaring calmly into the dense foliage ahead. He was quiet in his observations, his senses attuned to their surroundings, before he asked of the nearby drow, "What drew your attention to it in the first place?"

Encara keeps a brisk pace once they're past the western gate, long legs carrying her with ease and a predator's practiced silence across the snow. There is no hesitation in her movements, no hidden fear for the beast that stalks this wilderness, and she remains quietly sure of herself even as they come upon the forest's border. After giving the sparse trees a cursory stare, the ranger looks to Krice. "Gold for blood," she says with a shrug. "I told you it's killed people - their comrades want revenge and they're paying well for it. A pause follows, and then Encara adds with some reluctance, "I stay in the area and hunt here often. The bear is a menace to everyone and it will claim more lives if it isn't stopped."

Krice listened to Encara with no hint of amusement or sourness, despite her sharp words throughout their exchange. As she spoke of the giant-eating bear's threat to the general population, he glanced sideways to regard her from the corner of his vision, his features a canvas of indifference. "You almost sound compassionate. Not bad for a drow," mused the warrior, his tone lacking the insult that his words might otherwise have portrayed.

"Tch." Encara is tapping her foot again, snow crunching softly beneath her boot. Meeting that glance with an unamused frown, the ranger rolls her eyes, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of discussing any emotions she may or may not have. "Live on the surface long enough and you're bound to catch something, I suppose." She says it like compassion is a disease. "Besides, there are -plenty- of people here without empathy, I've heard… starting with half of Larket." Hands on her hips, Encara returns her focus to the forest as a thoughtful expression overtakes her typical scowl.

Krice rolled a shoulder and voiced his own opinion on the matter--whether true or not wasn't clear: "Empathy's a weakness." His attention returned to the forest ahead of them and he squinted, not to better see but in contemplation of the wildlife that lived beyond the southern border. "So what's your plan? If your enchanted arrows don't work, how do you expect to defeat it?"

Encara lets nothing of her own opinions show, though she does cast the man another brief glance. "Many drow believe that," she murmurs by way of reply before shaking her head and pushing the thought out of mind. "The plan is -more- arrows. That cat," she means Orikahn, "is a skilled fighter. I don't know about the fox-eared elf he hangs around with, but if he believes she can handle herself, I won't protest it. She'll die if she can't, simple as." And there goes the empathy.

Krice squinted thoughtfully. 'Fox-eared elf'? He had an idea as to who that was, but clearly was familiar with the 'cat'. "Orikahn," he said, looking sideways at the nearby drow. "Good luck with it, then. I'll keep an eye out for the beast, in case it wanders closer to the population - maybe kill it with this toothpick. And it's not even enchanted." A bit of rivalry there, perhaps? Whatever the case, the warrior passed a final look over Encara's face before turning to leave the forest, though his attention drifted over his surroundings as he went, ever watchful.