RP:Cloudy with a chance of Nymh

Part of the Surface Tension Arc

Synopsis: After escaping the Underdark, Nymh turns to Alvina for aid and tells her of Skylei's capture. Together, they go to Frostmaw to tell Hildegarde.

House

Alvina stood in the woods surrounding the lab, shuffling through the leaves for a bright spot to maybe plant some flowers. The debate that took place in her mind ranged between the negatives of drawing attention to the house from the positives of adding a splash of life and color. A cool wind whipped at her face, tugging strands of crimson from her cheeks into the forced weightlessness of the breeze. The sun was setting slowing in the evening sky; stars began to speckle the sky opposite. Shadows began to settle in the surrounding wood as night prowling animals stretched their wings and claws to begin their hunts. The bard leaned against the side of the house, content to watch the world shift into full nightfall.

Nymh made his appearance, in the twilight of that settling dusk. "Alvina." How long had he been there? It was hard to say. He would make himself seen, leaning against a tree at a respectable distance. "I'm glad to find you here." A few questions asked and answered had led him here. "Might I beg your aid? I've done something... dangerous, and I'm in great danger." There was a remarkable determination in his eyes for someone begging asylum. Just what had he done, that seemed to have turned the world against him?

Alvina breathed his name as soon as he appeared, anxiety in her voice. The bard did not hesitate to rush to his side and look him over carefully. “What’s happened?” she queried, not that the answer would change her mind. “Of course, please…You are more than welcome. Come inside…” Moving with a nervous rigidness, Alvina took the few steps back towards the door with careful consideration, looking back at Nymh to make sure he followed. When he reached the door, she would gesture him inside ahead of her, and follow behind to close the door. The window shades were already drawn for the evening, a few candles lit sparsely to break apart the darkness. Her emerald optics trembled in distress, concern painted across her pale features.

Nymh would show no sign of injury, only of determination and a healthy dose of fear in his eyes. He'd follow her, noting the immediate change in her demeanor... the concern, and not just for herself. For him. This was the path he'd chosen... he was glad he'd found such people as Alvina. "I've made sure there are no drow nearby already." He'd make mention of it as they went into the house. He'd scoped the area before confronting her, thoroughly. Once she closed the door, he'd breathe a deep sigh, and begin to speak. "I've sent word through Ynhaldei, an elf, to Hildegarde of Frostmaw, concerning the whereabouts of Skylei. She is a captive in House D'artes, I've witnessed her imprisonment firsthand. I have forsaken all ties to the drow, in order to convey this information... and betrayed the trust of my own matron.'" There was pain in his voice at that last mention. Laezila... he'd left her all alone, betrayed. "House D'artes spies are sure to discover my treachery, sooner or later. I only hope my betrayal does not hurt Laezila, hence my hasty departure. I will hide, in Frostmaw or in Vailkrin, I think. I doubt I'll make as many allies among the wood elves as I make enemies among the drow, but Skylei was the first to give me a chance when I fled D'artes slavery. I couldn't bear to leave her there, with no hope." He clenched his hand into a fist, standing where he was, trembling.

Alvina held the distance between them while he spoke, supporting her weight with a firm arm, pressed palm first against the wooden table top. Her eyes watched him carefully, as if his words were soaking in through her optics as opposed to through the transference of sound. His body language told her things he did not say; and she left them unsaid. “I would rush the message to the Stewardess myself…if I thought it would make a difference…” The distance between them dissolved as she moved to place a comforting hand on the half drow’s trembling shoulders. “Peace…” She said, though she was not sure why. All his words were laced with the blood and deceit of war; a thing he knew too well it seemed. The bard recognized the name from Abram’s account of a woman in the woods. Once he heard, she knew, even if Hildegarde did nothing, Abram would rush to try to save Skylei; armies abound or not. “I will take you to Frostmaw, or Vailkrin, or wherever you wish to go. For tonight, though…perhaps rest and food and a moment to process would be best, hmm?” The bard removed her hand from his shoulder and instead moved to embrace him carefully. “You were brave to bring this message to the Eyrie…Lady Skylei will owe you a great deal of thanks upon her rescue.” The embrace fell away between them and the bard tried to smile, for his sake. “Come, have a seat…I know you’ve traveled a great distance to get here, with a heavy burden.”

Nymh nodded to her words, though it was difficult to still the trembling. Rest. He would need his strength. It was important to a warrior, to be able to take rest where they could. He'd known slavery long enough to know collapsing of exhaustion at the wrong time easily proved fatal. He'd stand still during her embrace, perhaps not trusting himself to move, and then sit when bidden. He'd draw forth his ebony ocarina. He couldn't make them anymore... he had to use materials from the underdark to do so, after all... and it was far too dangerous to return. "It should be a time until they know. Still... I do not know how many ears Gevurah D'artes truly has, and where. I hope they are able to save Skylei. D'artes House defenses are... they are... without peer. It will take an army to rescue her, or someone of incredible prowess." Far, far beyond his own abilities. A tear leaked from his eye. "War... it is... horrible. So much blood, cruelty. Betrayal. And I play my part. My hands... are unclean." From slavery, to traitor to his blood, to those who'd trusted him. He was soon wracked with sobs. Laezila... his greatest regret. She was alone, in a pit of snakes.

Alvina would have done all in her power to comfort her kindred bard…but words seemed to fall short of the pain that pierced his heart. Mayhap she could speak with Hildegarde, go with the rescue effort with the hopes of bringing this woman out alive and if none was formed, then with Abram or whatever party he thought to summon. The Lady Skylei was not without friends, it seemed. Every time the woman opened her mouth to offer a word of comfort, her voice faltered and lips closed without ushering a single sound. Eventually, her own heart breaking at the terror this individual had endured, she sat beside him and held his hand as the sun set fully and the stars released their full might into the cloudless sky. The darkness of the house was fitting, she would have thought of no better setting to grieve. “If you called her to come away,” Alvina said at length, “Would she come to you?”

Nymh shook his head. "She is the matron of the second house of the underdark... the house of misfits, cripples, the refuse of drow society. They only have a home, only live, because of her. She is the greatest hope the drow have of finding a new path. I could not bring myself to see Skylei become martyred along that path. I betrayed Laezila, and she will suffer for it. Gevurah will whisper more and more poison in her ears, and she will have no one to turn to." He buried his head in his hands. "The only house that keeps no slaves. The only house that welcomed me with open arms, gave me a home. And I have betrayed her."

Alvina wrapped her arms around his shoulder and held him. “She will understand...Good hearts always understand. And it sounds like she is the brightest light in Underdark. When the war has ended, perhaps more houses will do the same…and take no slaves…War and Peace alter things quickly.” Truthfully, the bard did not know if she would understand. Situations in war, where people were forced to take sides, tended to leave deep scars in those who survived it. Nymh would eventually have to find peace in this himself, or with the matron’s help. Which meant, all together, Alvina would just have to sit by his side in this moment and hope it to be enough. As he leans into his hands, the woman presses her fingers against the temple closest to her and hums a few light chords. Nothing to knock him out, but perhaps to encourage a peaceful sleep to find him in this turmoil.

Nymh continues to shudder, until Alvina presses her fingers to his temple, and starts humming. It calms him, lets his mind find a more restful state, and he leans against her shoulder, as his mind quiets, and his eyelids flicker open and shut. Music... would such a gift ever truly return to the drow? Did their vile ways deny them such beauty? All that he wanted was acceptance, peace, a home... family. Forty years of slavery had jaded him, thirty years of music had opened his heart to hope, and in the span of a few months, friendships and the realities of war had made his life far the more complicated than it had ever been as a slave, struggling only to survive. He felt the strangest desire to return to that simplicity. Obey, eat, sleep, obey. Survive. Kill when you're told to. Kill when you have to. Don't die. Obey. He shivered, his mind swimming in a slow torrent of inner turmoil, struggling to find that shred of peace Alvina offered.

Alvina would hold fast to him as he faded, edging him down onto the feathered couch to rest. She continued to hum as she gathered pillow and blanket, set up a glass of water on a nearby table and shuffled his hair gently. It was only in the silence that she spoke to him, hoping her words would sift between dream and reality to reach him where he was. If not, it was nothing she would not happily repeat once his heart had mended a bit. “Even in the spiral of chaos that we endure in our lives, we can find peace. Rest. Friendships tether us to a place in time, they leave their mark and remind us on the days when we struggle to breath that we are here. We are here in this moment and it is worth every drop of our blood, sweat, and tears to continue to be here. Bonds will be made and broken, but we are never aimless so long as we love one another. Pain, conflict…and decisions are part of the whirlwind…but never without purpose.” The bard wanted to tell him that everything would work out perfectly. The he would receive a just reward for his help, but she knew that the world did not always grant creatures what they were due. At least, she thought, in this moment she could grant him something he was due; Rest, friendship, and a moment of safety.