RP:Face To Face, Heart To Heart

Part of the The Whisperer In Darkness Arc

Summary: Encara happens upon Khitti in Lionel's office, thinking the redhead was her brother, and the two, strangely enough, end of having quite the heart to heart talk despite this being their second time in each other's company.

Lionel O'Connor's Office, Frostmaw Fort

Khitti || How many times in the past several months had she been here in Lionel’s office, toiling away with his paperwork? When she was pregnant, she had no qualms about it, especially as she was in the later stages nearing the end. It’s not like she could do much else. But now? Why was she doing this now? While he was gallivanting about with Valrae after her resurrection, Khitti was still doing all of his Steward of Frostmaw work. The more she thought about it, the angrier she got. What were they even doing? No. She didn’t want to know that. She didn’t want to know intimate details about her brother and some woman he (and Khitti) barely knew. This made her all the more furious though, her pen nib scratching various parchment surfaces, the metal bit on the end of her quill nearly cutting right through the different documents she had to sign in his name as his aide-de-camp. It continued on like this for some time until the nib finally snapped off, much to Khitti’s surprise, and the redhead could only blink at it before realizing that ink was getting everywhere, spilling from the pool that had been inside the nib itself. “No no no. Frak!” Khitti scrambled to blot up what she can, but failed miserably. Thankfully, the document wasn’t -too- important, but it meant she needed to start over again. From the beginning. Khitti promptly faceplanted on the desk in front of her, a heavy, muffled sigh leaving her. “This kind of stuff didn’t happen when I had my necromancy…” This was, as Lionel would say, fraught. Entirely frakking fraught.

Encara is a woman on a mission. A lot of things linger on the drow's mind of late, some more pressing than others - greydusk and the upcoming expedition to Aedrebyrg, the scrying mirror kept wrapped in cloth under her bed, and the silhouette of the werebear rising before her in that ramshackle hut. Others still are more infuriating than desired, like a song that won't be forgotten playing over and over in her head. Fire. Warmth. Snowflakes. The night when Lionel had found her at the colosseum, stepped out of the blackness wreathed in Hellfire's glow when she'd feared him dead— it still felt like a dream. Maybe it was. Valrae's resurrection remains similarly fresh in her mind and Encara is no fool, so it frustrates her to have fallen to this point in the first place. Sighing, she shakes her head, pushes back the bitterness poisoning her insides, convinces herself she'll devise a cure. Lionel O'Connor won't be the death of her. Still, here she is now, heading to his office with a very important letter in her pocket and an excuse to see him again, even if it's just for a moment. Is he even here? It's the only reason that gives Encara pause before she enters the room unannounced, as always, pulling her hair back into a loose, messy ponytail as she walks. "Lionel…" the drow begins, then cuts herself off short. Her head tilts somewhat, as if in an attempt to read the spoiled document from upside down or make sense of the situation before her. "Khitti," she amends quickly, hand rubbing at her neck in a quiet display of awkwardness. Doesn't the redhead have enough on her plate already without having to pick up Lionel's slack? Hm. Encara tries not to think about where the steward actually is if he isn't working, turning her gaze to survey the office idly instead. "Didn't expect to find you. Busy, I take it?"

Khitti blinked a bit more, tilting her head to the side to peer up at Encara’s entrance before finally lifting her head off the desk. “Hi, Encara.” Something seemed off about the drow--Khitti was perceptive enough to pick up on that--but since she didn’t know the drow well enough, that was all she could ascertain. “I’m always busy.” Just saying that made her look more tired--she was always tired too. “What are you doing here? Lionel’s with…” Khitti frowned, sighed, and set the ruined document aside to finish drying. Well, if Encara was so close with Lionel, as she made it seem last time they met, then she likely knew where Lionel was and who he was with. She paused after her thoughts trailed off, then shook her head, stared at the desk for a moment, then looked to Encara again, “I am grateful for your help, even if it didn’t seem like it at the time, last time we spoke.”

Encara || "With Valrae, yes. I figured as much." She hadn't known for certain, of course, but it isn't difficult for Encara to pretend otherwise. There is nothing given away through her expression as she makes her way further into the room and leans a hip against the side of the desk, though the fact she quickly pushes the topic aside is likely telling enough. "I just wasn't sure if he might've dropped back in. It doesn't matter. In fact…" A conspiratorial note in her voice, the drow looks sidelong at Khitti, lips quirking at the corners, "it's better that I ran into you instead, what with trouble in Aedrebyrg and all." Encara pauses, frowns. "Do you know how I met Lionel O'Connor, actually? I doubt he will have mentioned me." It's stated with feigned nonchalance, no sharpness to her tone. "The day we met was the day I received this scar," she continues, brushing her fingertips across the mottled purple burn marring her right shoulder - she's wearing the same off-shoulder blue tunic as before, though her left arm is still guarded by that out of place gauntlet, "when I forced your brother to drive Hellfire through my body and kill the wraith attempting to take control of my mind. I'd found a group of them out in northern Venturil and chose to warn an Alliance camp. That's how we met." Dropping her hand, Encara reaches into a pocket and withdraws a small scrap of paper, which she carefully unfolds and shows to Khitti - the script is nonsensical, a form of drow code known only to members of her House. "I've had some Val'thyrion scouts out in Venturil looking for other wraiths. They reported back. I came to inform him of that and my intentions to venture to Venturil, both for the Aedrebyrg mission and to hunt down these stray wraiths." And perhaps to see if he'd accompany her, but evidently he's occupied elsewhere, she muses. "But I suppose if we're both heading out there, I'd welcome your assistance, Khitti."

Khitti || “If I’d seen my brother lately on more occasion than just the birth of his nephew, I’m sure he would’ve told me. He’s been… very distracted lately.” Khitti listened though, to Encara’s explanation of their meeting, a smirk lining her unpainted lips. “Seems it’s always some sort of grand event whenever he meets someone new. I met him in Vailkrin and we were attacked by ghouls in the castle there. The meeting after that? A huge talking spider, screaming one thing or another about the old gods. And my fiancé, Brand? Helped him escape from a slaver ship.” The templar-in-training shook her head and rolled her eyes. “He does not care for that title of his, ‘The Hero of Hellfire’, but it certainly fits him well.” Khitti considered the rest of Encara’s words after her bitter musings were finished, a nod given to the ranger, “I’m sure we can tackle this problem on the way there. Zahrani--she told me you’ve met--is supposed to help us in Venturil as well. I’ll tell her to meet us in Aedrebyrg.” She paused, her mind lingering on the fact that Encara was quite skilled in the ranger department--so she was told--and another thought crossed her mind. “You said you’re a ranger. One skilled enough to get Meri and Lionel’s attention. And you seem to know your way around here…” She trailed off again, clearly hesitant. “Do you… know a feline by the name of Orikahn?”

Encara barks a laugh. "A talking spider! I assume you killed the lovely thing." Leonine eyes turn back to the redhead, her gaze sharp as ruby for just a moment before she grins, knife-like, at Khitti's next words. "Of all his titles, that one is the most fitting," she agrees. "I know what kind of a man Lionel is: he always likes to make an entrance, make the sacrifice, and nothing can ever be said in a few short words if it's coming from his mouth." The last one in particular drives Encara up the wall, but she hasn't stabbed him yet. "But he has my respect." She shakes her head, dropping her focus to study the note once more but glancing up as Khitti mentions Zahrani. "I'm to be surrounded by paladins, I see. I hope none of you will mind a heathen among your ranks." If the faintly playful edge to her comment is to be trusted, Encara is only joking, though she does mutter 'Delisha's eyes' under her breath. "Zahrani healed me once - I respect her skill and I'm sure we can work together with no trouble. My scouts tell me there's evidence of wraith activity in the western lands and further up in the Dead Forest, and evidence points to a lair somewhere north of the Fengoth river. If you're making the trip to Venturil from here, we can journey there together, then to Aedrebyrg." A nod of the head follows, enthusiastic, the drow clearly pleased by the flattery offered until Orikahn's name comes up. "…I know the cat. Why?" Her last encounter with the feline was a memorable one, to say the least.

Khitti nodded and grinned a bit at the remarks about her brother, “That’s Lionel to a ‘t’. I thought he was the most obnoxious frakker the first few times we crossed paths--he still hasn’t failed in that department.” The redhead eased back into her chair--well, Lionel’s chair--and eyed Encara with a smirk, “He really hasn’t told you anything about me either, has he? Besides knowing about the Shadow Plane anyway. The Paladin’s Guild, that Zahrani and a few others are helping me reform, is in name only as we’ve let in other devout followers that aren’t paladins at all. I’m not one either. My ways sometimes are too… morally grey, I guess you could put it. I’ve chosen the way of the templar, because I honestly don’t think someone who used to be a necromancer could ever fully walk that path. It doesn’t feel right to me. It’d feel too much like I’m wearing a mask. I’ve had to do that enough in my life and I don’t want to do it anymore unless I have to. I’m tired of hiding.” Her thoughts then moved on to Venturil again, a pensive stare fixing on the desk in front of her, “That’s past a couple of the other byrgs. We should tread carefully, in case the other byrgs are infected somehow too. If there really is something big going on here, like there had been on that island, I don’t want to give them much notice of our coming.” And then finally, she returned to the subject of Orikahn, that pensiveness remaining, “He brought me into his ‘pack’, as he called it, a long time ago, because of my skills as a ranger. I’ve seen him only once since my rebirth, and only briefly, but… I’m not entirely sure I’m worthy enough to come back to it, though I would like to. As a vampire, I could match his own skills and my necromancy helped things as well. But now? I’m just human. My archery is just fine--despite what I said before--but…” She didn’t really have to say it; Khitti was clearly lacking in a bit of confidence there.

Encara takes the opposite chair, if only because the desk was starting to dig into her hip and looming over Khitti like a shadow was getting boring. Swinging herself to one side, she props her legs up on the arm of the chair and crosses them at the ankles, easily making herself comfortable in a space that doesn't belong to her. "He didn't! It made you seem rather one-dimensional; 'the sister who knows about the Shadow Plane' was all I had on you. But you seem to be much more fun than he let on, which is good to see." Her expression is one of interest as she listens to Khitti talk both of the guild and of her past, which softens at the edges when the redhead mentions masks and having to hide. Finally Encara says, "I was teasing before, of course - I don't have a problem with paladins but… they tend to have a problem with me. More so than usual with the current mess, I fear." Casually she extends her right arm and places it on the table, wrist upturned, showing the triangular charm bracelet she wears. "My House has worshiped Delisha for millennia. She is a dark goddess and yes, not everything we do for her is without bloodshed, but I don't agree with the practices you witnessed on that island. Every god has their radical followers and I will do my best to help you stop them." The hand is withdrawn to push her silver hair out of her eyes, stray stands coming free from the ponytail. "My scouts will not have strayed too close to the byrgs but I agree - we still have stealth and the element of surprise at our disposal and I'd like to keep it that way." Once again she falls silent, scarlet eyes finding Khitti's from across the desk and her lips pursing slightly— in disapproval or merely in thoughtfulness, it's hard to say, but there's a certain stoniness to the drow's voice when she speaks again. "Doubt strikes more quickly than an arrow if you let it. I can't claim to understand your circumstances and I hardly know you but I don't believe you're 'just human.' You lead a guild… and anyone who decides to open a bakery covered in pink icing and candy canes and— and fluffy clouds has to have guts. When we hunt these wraiths, bring your bow, kill your fear. Archery isn't a skill you just forget." That's reassurance in drow.

Khitti || “Like I told everyone that joined my guild, I understand the gods and why they do what they do. They each have their own purpose and I respect that. This is why I’ve pretty much opened the guild to anyone--even followers of Delisha and Vakmathras--should that person prove themselves to do their work to aide others, instead of slaughtering them needlessly like on the island,” Khitti said, her line of sight falling to Encara’s bracelet. “I would not be here, alive and before you now, if I hadn’t had help from Vakmathras, Delisha, and Arkhen together. No matter what their followers do, I cannot deny their existence or their help.” She smiled somewhat at the last of Encara’s words, “It’s definitely not. It didn’t take me long after my rebirth, despite the amnesia I had at the time, for me to relearn archery. It’s just… I’ve lost someone recently and while the two of us weren’t particularly close, I feel their loss as if they were my own flesh and blood despite the fact they were definitely not.” A hand raised to the silver choker around her neck, fingertips toying with the lapis lazuli stone that dangled from the short chain that hang from the middle. “They helped me with my archery until I got my memory back, even went so far as to enchant my bow for me, because the string had been a high enough grade so that a vampire couldn’t break it, and I’ve just not been able to take up Diamond Dust again. I’m worried that this will affect my archery, as my lack of confidence has hindered me in the past, but…” She nodded slowly, forcing the smile to be a bit more warm, “I will certainly try to do my best.” There was a chuckle then, as the drow’s remarks about her bakery was registered finally, “If it makes you anymore apt to visit it, I’ll be redesigning the outside a little. I need to accomodate for an apartment above it. I don’t think Brand, the grumpy ship captain that he is, will want to live in an gingerbread house.”

Encara can't help the smile that surfaces when she hears of the gods that brought Khitti back to life. "It's good to hear. There is a lot of misinformation spread regarding Delisha and Vakmatharas - with luck your guild will help bring an end to the misconceptions people have." Intently she listens, pulling her legs back down as she sits upright and assumes a more serious posture, making it evident that she's not here to make light of the redhead's words or situation. Encara did not come here today with the intent of having a heart-to-heart with anyone but she can't say she's complaining; with each new thing she learns about Khitti, the drow finds herself drawn to her more. If Encara were ever to have friends, they'd be people like Khitti. "I'm sorry for your loss," she begins at last, and the sentiment is expressed genuinely, "but, rather than let it drag you down, use it as fuel to continue the fight. Surely they would not want to see you fail and doubt yourself." Then she pauses, hesitating a moment before shaking her head and leaning forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "Drow… hate weakness. More correctly, we fear it, but a drow would sooner kill you than ever admit that. I've seen men go mad because they won't let themselves relax and in our society it's difficult — it can very easily get you killed — but is a man driven to the brink by his denial strong? What I'm saying is— is that sometimes, everybody needs to be a little bit vulnerable and I don't believe it's wrong until it starts to consume you." Though she shrugs her shoulders and feigns nonchalance, the admittance is not an easy one and her heart twists with guilt, but she assures herself this isn't a betrayal of her people. "Many drow would not agree and far less would tell you they share my feelings, but… that's how it is. I'm not great at this. But with practice and by confronting it — by killing things, especially — you'll get past it." She grimaces, then, at mention of the bakery. "So long as you don't incorporate an entire ship above it, I'm sure it'll be fine."

Khitti nodded slowly, still playing with that pendant until she managed to pry herself away from it, “I know. It’s flaw of mine to let things drag me down. I don’t know how many times Lionel, Brand, and Meri have had to lecture me on it--and me with them. It’s just been particularly hard lately, with Brand as busy as he is with his ship and Lionel and Meri with their own partners now.” There was no denying that Lionel and Valrae were together, or were working down that path; she’d seen the way they held hands at the Paladin’s Guild meeting. “Despite having a family again, I just feel so alone.” Khitti steeled herself somewhat, sitting up a little bit straighter, “Onyx would’ve shot me a long time ago if they saw how I was acting. They never cared for my various emotions, heh. Or if they did, they hid it well. They were all about business and I’m certain if they were still here, I’d’ve at least gotten several monotone lectures about my current emotional state.” She shook her head then at Encara, mustering another smile, “Your words are welcomed, whether you think you’re great at this or not. I’ve always been able to give wisdom of my own, but never keep any for myself. You are not like any drow I’ve encountered or read about, Encara. You’re certainly different and I’m beginning to wonder if we’re perhaps cut from the same cloth.” Whether or not it was true, Encara seemed to understand Khitti at least, and that was not a thing that happened often. How many times had she had to explain her actions to people? To beg them to understand? To try to make them see what she was feeling? It had even taken some time to get through to Brand and Lionel, though it was merely because they too had their own issues. And yet, it was only Encara and Khitti’s second meeting and they seemed to connect well. Khitti was grateful more than she showed.

Encara is no fool. Inexperienced with emotions, certainly, but not a fool - she saw how Lionel looked at Valrae on the night of her resurrection, how he spoke of her on occasions before that with a tenderness that went beyond the expected. If she was weaker she might've cried for the way her heart ached back then— how it aches now. She smiles at Khitti and says nothing about it. How would she explain it anyway? Talking about feelings is difficult enough as it is, let alone when they're her own and those she scarcely understands in the first place. Why this? Why Lionel and the unreachable? "You are not alone, Khitti," she says gently, "though that is something I do understand." Odd words from a drow but it's as Khitti says - Encara is not quite like others of her kind. It'd be easier to get angry and lash out, harder to admit it, but she's felt this isolation before. "Perhaps we are." Cut from the same cloth, that is. The drow leans back in the chair, resists the urge to prop her feet up on the desk, drumming her fingers lightly against her gauntlet. "But then, Val'thyrion drow in general are considered strange by most of our kin. My aunt is the matron - Eresandria, Lady of Lanterns. She hosts parties and laughs at bad jokes and fully embraces the 'game' of inter-House politics… she's -obnoxiously- bright and in-your-face. She stands out." Somewhat like the exterior of Khitti's bakery, Encara realises absently with a grimace. "She's a viper though, like the rest of them; she's just fond of wearing the mask. Anyway, I— I'll be heading for Venturil soon. If we're travelling together I'll warn you in advance: I'll be going through Craughmoyle and picking up those scouts along the way, but I assure you they won't cause you any trouble." Probably.

Khitti had lost track of the time as the two spoke and a faint ‘frak’ muttered under her breath as Encara all but said that she was getting ready to leave, the redhead shuffling the papers in front of her together into a nice neat pile and then stuffed them into her satchel. “Perhaps I could meet the rest of your kin one day, if they’re all like you. And, perhaps, once you and I get to know each other better, I’ll show you that portal spell to get to the Shadow Plane too.” She smiled warmly to the drow as Khitti stood, another thought soon crossing her mind, “Oh, um. How are you around holy magic? See… I have this sword… who also… happens to be the one that’s teaching me to be a templar. Uh. Long story there. For another time. Should I be cautious in how I use the magic? If I have to? And Craughmoyle’s perfectly fine. I’ll send word to Meri and have her meet us there and then we can follow you on into Venturil.” Khitti scratched the back of her head awkwardly. Not everyone was keen on being around a sentient weapon--unless you’re Rorin, who actually became a sentient weapon for a short time.

Encara hasn't actually considered the time but a common tactic of the drow's when she feels uncomfortable is to make like a tree and leaf. Talking about feelings is hard, okay. She watches Khitti mess with the papers, eyes flicking absently across them, picking out the splotches of ink before she lifts her gaze back to Khitti herself. "I'm not sure you'd want to meet most of them… especially the nobles. My brother, though, and some of the guard— they're all right. The scouts I sent to Venturil are young and wild, like teenage boys, but all they need is a stern hand to guide them." Standing along with Khitti, the drow pauses in the midst of pulling at her hair again to blink at the woman in mild surprise. "Definitely sounds like a story." Is it an Ishaarite thing like Halycanos? Encara's tempted to ask, but withholds the question for another time. "Sentient swords are trouble if you ask me — look at E'et-Nilah," and what it did to Keter D'Artes and Kuzial Stavret, though Encara leaves those tidbits of drow lore and gossip out, "but if you're in control of it I don't care. And holy magic makes me itch a little but that's only because I'm sensitive to magic… or maybe because I'm evil?" She flashes the redhead a skewed grin. "Just don't point it at me and I'll be fine. It takes a larger amount to make me feel dizzy so I doubt we'll run into that problem. Is Meri bringing a bow? I hope she's bringing a bow." A pause. "By the way, you have ink all over your face. I meant to point it out, but…"

Khitti shrugged, “You’ve already met one somewhat sentient sword--that is to say, Hellfire. Or it used to be. Or something. I’ve not asked Lionel on the specifics really. That sword and he might as well be one. Seika, the sprite within Tenbatsu Kaji--my own sword--knows when to keep their aura at a minimum. I’ve had to have them do it with others. Despite my cheery-looking bakery and bringing together a bunch of holy folk, I still walk in the shadows mostly and keep company with those that do as well. And I’ll make sure Meri has a bow, a temporary one at least. I’d like to get her something more sturdy and made of black ice or something along those lines, when she’s ready for it.” She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at the drow, unpainted lips pursing together. -Had- she touched her face after she messed with the ink? She didn’t -remember- doing it. Hmm. “Did I? Well. I’m sure it’ll help me blend in the shadows all the more,” she smirked. “I’m sure it goes well with my dark makeup too.” Were this one of those fancy roleplaying games with the dice and stat sheets that Khitti’s heard about but haven’t been able to partake in as of yet, Encara would surely have failed her bluff check. Pulling the satchel’s strap over her head and across her body, she continued, “I’ve got to get home to Cenril. If you need me before the mission, I’ll be there. Either the bakery or the Tranquility, as it’s usually docked at the wharf there. Have a good evening, Encara.” She stuck out her tongue at the drow playfully, then headed off out the door--and immediately started wondering if she actually -did- have ink on her face. Oh well.