RP:Hunting a Drow
Summary: Mesdoram leaves a note in a blood at the Kelay Tavern and Meri takes him up on his invitation.
Kelay Tavern
Meri :: Today was shaping up to be a fairly mundane one for Meri. The tattooed lycan had risen early so that she could ride from the Kelay-Sage treehouse out to her gallery in Cenril in an attempt to be productive. The day was spent trying to channel her creative energies into producing artwork that she would hopefully deem fit enough to display on the walls of her gallery for sale. After a few hours of trying and failing to produce anything of merit, the woman gives up and starts the journey back home. Except home is not where she ended up. A slight ‘detour’ was taken, it’s not like anyone would really notice if she came home a bit late. Her detour ended up taking her to Kelay Tavern where she ordered a glass of whiskey from Mesthak and loitered. At first she loiters at the bar, whiskey in front of her, but eventually her glass is swept up into her hand and the woman meanders around the perimeter of the room, coming to a stop in front of the board. Usually there is nothing posted on it that catches her interest but today she finds herself staring at a note that is written in some unusual ink.The fact that she is a lycan allows the woman to easily determine that the note is not written in ink at all, it was the heavy scent of iron that clues her into the fact that is was written in blood. She is not able to ascertain that the blood is elven in nature. A frown twists at her red lips as she steps forward, ripping the note down with her free hand and then returning to the bar. The note is slammed on the bar’s counter in front of Mesthak as Meri attempts to gain a bit of insight as to who might have left it. HIs reaction is telling, for the barkeep has been in his line of work long enough that it takes quite a bit to instill a sense of fear into him. She is able to learn the name of the drow that left the note as well as a description of what the man might look like, as well as some insights as to where he might be found. All of this information has one result, rather than returning home the woman will spend her time stalking the forests of southern sage and maybe venturing down into the underdark in search of Mesdoram. While the profession of artist might be her public persona, Meri has acquired a very particular set of skills. Skills that she has acquired over a very long career. Skills that might make her a nightmare for people like Mesdoram. The shadows were something that Meri has long embraced, the clung to her and made it so that she would not be easily seen during this hunt for Mesdoram.
Mesdoram :: The surface air makes most Drows immediately vomit; fortunately for Mesdoram, he does not share the usual caricatures his race – the man’s past is shrouded in secrecy with only Nariv and Vexar knowing the full story. Ever since Mesdoram’s resurgence, the drow has been on a self-destructive rampage with no end game in mind – at least, not a sane, rational reason for his antics. Mesdoram’s list of friends have grown to zero since recent spats with his brother Vexar, and that list will remain stagnant until Mesdoram’s personality changes… or a blade pierces his skull.
Mesdoram :: Resting inside the Kelay Way Tavern sits Mesdoram’s lone company, Nariv, who sits toward the far end of Methak’s tabletop bar. Dressed in her proper white dress and well-kept hair, the elven slave enjoys some peace and quiet as her Master Mesdoram resides near the Underdark Tavern of Trist’oth. Not having the same taste in alcohol, Nariv silently sips her favorite wine and occasionally people-watches in the nearly empty tavern. The elven woman stares toward the door briefly when all of a sudden… *SLAM!!*… an abrupt pounding on the bartop shakes Nariv and searches for the origin.
Mesdoram :: Nariv turns her attention to the lycan woman questioning Mesthak; being a curious observer, Nariv decides not to inquire and elects to listen intently. ‘Who is she?’ Nariv wonders to herself and becomes more interested as Mesthak mentions Mesdoram’s name. “She is looking for Mesdoram?” Upon further inspection, Nariv catches Meri’s hand holding the note written in her blood. “Oh… she really is looking for Mesdoram…” As the conversation ends, Meri leaves the tavern with a terrible purpose with Nariv staring over to Mesthak. “To what was that conversation for?” Nariv asks meekly to an overanxious barkeep. Nariv flashes her sweet smile as Mesthak spills the beans, mentioning that Meri will be looking for Mesdoram in the Southern Sage Forest right outside the Underdark’s entrance. Hoping to catch Meri first, she politely nods, pays for her drink, and rushes out the door in hopes to reach Meri first before she reaches Mesdoram.
Mesdoram :: Darkness begins setting in and the Sage Forest is dimming lit by the moonlight and stars; though Nariv’s elven eyes can see just fine during the nighttime, she has not had to venture into to night in a very long time. Reaching into her satchel, Nariv produces her greenish-dull dagger and whispers on the steel… “Reveal nin lond. Galad nin té…” With this simple incantation spoken, her weapon shines a bright greenish hue surround her form and projecting 5 feet in every direction. Walking around the forest with such a beacon can put an unwanted target on your back, but Nariv is not the best tracker. About every 20 feet or so, Nariv would look around some and quietly call out "Mesdoram?" into the void, hoping to see her master come running towards her. She also remembers that she did not ask for Meri's name, and stomps the ground in frustration for her rookie mistake. As her search for Mesdoram and Meri begins looking hopeless, she begins her journey towards the entrance for the Underdark to meet up with Mesdoram. Though she feels certain she can reach Mesdoram first, a skilled stalker would be able to follow her to see her master… or possibly intercept her before she reached the devilish drow.
Meri :: Stalker. Tracker. Rogue. Ranger. Take your pick. All of them contributed to Meri’s ability to figure out that she was being followed by Nariv. Mix all of those titles with the fact that Meri has been inflicted with the curse of lycanthropy which gave the woman a particularly keen sense of hearing and a very sensitive sense of smell means that Meri is able to easily come to the realization that someone was moving through the forest some distance behind her. The fact that Nariv had opted to illuminate the forest immediately surrounding her with a green glow and that the elven woman stopped every twenty feet or so to try and call out to her master made this realization all the easier for Meri. Rather than approaching the moment she came to the understanding that Nariv was also moving through the forest, Meri used the cover of darkness and the numerous trees in the area to her advantage. She’d wait, watch and consider how to best handle the elven woman’s presence.
Meri :: The lycan woman would allow Nariv to pass by her, taking in the elven woman’s features that are made visible by the green glow given off by the dagger she held. There was something familiar about Nariv and it did not take Meri long to figure out why she was struck with this feeling. Nariv had been in the tavern when Meri was questioning Mesthak, for starters. Yet the barkeep did not think to point Meri in her direction? Or maybe he deliberately decided to avoid giving Meri this information. There was a slight temptation to heckle the poor dwarf over this decision, yet Meri also sensed that Mesthak was afraid of Mesdoram. Maybe the barkeep thought he was doing Meri a service by withholding this information…or maybe he was trying to save his own hide from having to deal with Mesdoram…. As Meri continued to think on why Nariv struck her as familiar, other instances of when she has spotted this woman came to mind. Wasn’t she present at last years Halloween disaster? On the boat? And was she not in Mesdoram’s company while he was spectating the Titans of Winter battles?
Meri :: While Meri would observe and follow Nariv for a short period of time, the blonde was quick to come to the conclusion that she would not pursue the woman all the way to Mesdoram. She did not want to give Nariv the chance to warn Mesdoram of Meri’s approach. That would give Mesdoram the upperhand in a territory that he was likely more familiar with than Meri. Intercept it was. She would do so from behind, if all went according to her plan, alerting Nariv of her presence with her voice rather than a full-on assault. When she spoke, Meri was not shrouded in darkness, seeing no point to try and mask her appearance when Nariv was already aware of what she looked like. Her bow was drawn though when she alerted Nariv and an arrow was nocked and ready to fire if Nariv took one hostile step toward Meri, “I believe that we are looking for the same drow. Mesdoram. He is your master, isn’t he? Not a kind one I am sure. And yet you would warn him of my approach? You are loyal to him despite his treatment of you? Would it not be more advantageous for you to turn a blind eye to my hunt of him? Perhaps even to make it easier by telling me where I might find him?” It of course did cross Meri’s blind that Nariv could lie and steer Meri completely off course.
Mesdoram :: (Meanwhile in the Underdark)
Mesdoram travels freely through the Underdark’s hostile scenery dressed fully in his battle mage robe: a charmed lavender pifwai drapes from his shoulders, snowy white hair flowing freely from his helmetless head, an assortment of light-ebony spiked-armor protects his hands, arms, chest, and legs. Fastened securely along his waist are two shortened scabbards housing his enchanted twin dirks gifted to him by Thea and Keter; absent from his arsenal this night is his earthly elemental sword which rests harmlessly in Mesdoram’s dwelling. The well-equipped drow, along with Nariv, has established a ruthless reputation amongst the lowlives here in the Underdark – very few even dare linger a stare at Nariv over fear of Mesdoram’s cruel retaliation… an example of his malice may be preformed tonight…
Mesdoram :: The drow walks closer to the entrance of the ascending cave when the faintest voice from above on the Surface reverberates into his good ear. Turning to stare at the exit, Mesdoram listens with intrigue attempting to make out the wording clearer – a satisfied smirks adorn his face as distinctly hears a foreign woman mention ‘Mesdoram’ in an obvious integration of the drow’s whereabouts. Staring down at his weaponry, he playfully taps the hilts of his deadly dirks and speaks softly to the blades. “Looks like we may have some fun after all, my friends. It would be rude not to introduce ourselves..." With the excitement of a scuffle possible, Mesdoram elects to entertain his two guests with his presence and begins his ascent upwards to the surface – ready to recruit more for his cause, or break some necks; either way, win-win.
Mesdoram :: (Back on the Surface)
Mesdoram :: A surge of panic rapidly courses through Nariv’s elven frame upon hearing the voice of Meri; Nariv's lack of tracking and subtlety becoming very apparent. Though the two haven’t formerly met, Nariv clearly recognizes Meri’s voice from the bar. Instinctually, Nariv throws her hands up in fear in a ‘don’t shoot’ position with her back facing Meri’s deadly weapon, not wanting to be prematurely pierced in this exchange. “Please…” Fear and anxiety are heavily annuncated in Nariv’s intial plea. “… please don’t…” Very nervously, Nariv cautiously turns around to face Meri. Nariv can clearly see the lycan warrior bow drawn with deadly prowess and purpose; the stare glaring back at the elven slave matches the intensity of the situation - Meri's death stare casting more uncertainty in Nariv's elven pysche. Still illuminating a bright green aura from Nariv’s charmed dagger, the woman is a standing target paralyzed with fear like a deer in the headlights.
Mesdoram :: “I’m.. I’m sorry for any wrongdoing, ma’am…” Nariv really wishes she had learned Meri’s name now to connect with this lycan. “Yes… you are right. Mesdoram is my master…” During her frightened state of mind, she had unintentionally removed her hood of her cloak revealing her hair neatly parted and drapped over her shoulders – the unintentional act reveals Mesdoram’s savagery etched into her forehead… the ‘SIN’ marking which is now highlighted by the brilliant greenish hue produced by her dull dagger. Nariv dares not move a step towards Meri for fear the ‘SIN’ marking would be easy target practice for the lycan.
Mesdoram :: Wincing her face away from Meri at that thought, Nariv attempts to explain herself calmly. “I’m Nariv… I don’t believe we have formerly met…” Submissive like she is with Mesdoram, she fixates her gaze at the ground fearing what would happen if she looked at Meri. “I do not mean to cause you trouble… I just cannot feign ignorance for my master and expect mercy from him…” Feeling a bit brave, she slightly turns her head at Meri who still has her box locked onto Nariv. “For if you reach him first, or I reach him first, it matters not… my punishment comes either way.” The sudden realization of what Mesdoram will do to her frightens Nariv again, and she returns her gaze to the floor expecting the worst from Meri.
Mesdoram :: (Travelling back to the Surface)
Mesdoram :: Allowing himself to soak in the moment, Mesdoram takes his sweet time through the many nooks and crannies of the Darkening Cave. Hearing Meri’s voice interrogate this unknown other feels the drow with a twisted satisfaction. “The tone of this one, eh?” The demented drow speaks to no one. “She may indeed be a great addition to the cause.” Still a good 5 minutes away from the two, he makes out a very familiar voice… Nariv… A sudden burst of rage engulfs the drow. “Who do you think you are? Threatening my property, will you?” Quickening his pace just a bit, Mesdoram hears Nariv’s plea’s to Meri. “Pathetic slave, you are not allowed to grovel to anyone." Roughly 3 minutes away now, Mesdoram journeys through the Darkening Cave quickly to protect Nariv and deal with this new challenger who dares threaten his elven slave.
Meri :: The green glow that helps to illuminate Nariv’s features does the same for Meri but to a lesser extent given the distance between the two women. Meri’s attire has not changed since she left Kelay Tavern, though it may be challenging to fully observe what the blonde is specifically wearing due the cloak that drapes down from her shoulders. Still, her current stance with holding her bow upright with an arrow pointed at Nariv will allow the elven woman to see that Meri is wearing primarily black, from the cloak to the outfit worn beneath it. No armor would be seen, as Meri did not set out for the day with the notion that she would be attempting to hunt Mesdoram. The lycan woman is wearing in her usual day-to-day style, black boots and form fitting black pants. There is a splash of color on her corset, a shade of red that matches the red lipstick Meri so loves to wear, but for the most part the blonde dresses for function over fashion. If there is any additional weaponry on her person outside of the bow, the cloak seems to be doing a fine job of masking it from view.
Meri :: While Meri has a very keen sense of hearing, it will take time for her to come to the realization that Mesdoram is on his way to pay her a little visit. For now, the blonde’s eyes are fixated on Nariv. There is a part of Meri that is moved by Nariv’s apologizing and the information that it did not matter which of the two women reached him first, that Nariv will still be punished for this incident. Yet another part of the lycan has a hard time trusting this story, as convincing as it is. It seems to her as though Nariv has had ample chances to escape Mesdoram and seek refuge or protection from some other group in the lands. Case in point: Nariv was found wandering through the forest and calling out her master’s name. It is for this reason that Meri does not give into the temptation to lower her weapon, lest she fall victim due to placing trust into an individual who has only just introduced herself. “You are correct, we have not formally met.” While Meri refuses to lower her bow, she does ease the tension on the string, if only to give her arm some slight relief. Silence fills the area as Meri, a normally chatty woman, is quite reluctant to speak but seems intent on holding Nariv hostage for several minutes, giving Mesdoram plenty of time to make the journey from the underdark to the surface. “...And I don’t think tonight is the night that we will be changing that.” Meri finally says, making no attempt to introduce herself. Just a few minutes ago, the blonde seemed content to try and reason with Nariv and recruit her to Meri’s cause, at least in the sense that she wanted information out of the elf and for the other woman to turn a blind eye. Meri’s tone has turned cold.
Meri :: What has changed? Meri’s awareness that someone else is approaching. How does Meri come to this knowledge? Well a good rogue never reveals her secrets, but she has been clued into the fact that someone is angrily making his way toward her and Nariv by someone Unseen. Meri makes one singular assumption with this warning that only she is able to hear: that Nariv must have the means to communicate with her master and has alerted him. It’s an incorrect assumption, yet not improbable or illogical. Meri will not be taking it out on Nariv, however, she will instead wait for the three remaining minutes it would take for Mesdoram to make himself known and then a volley of arrows would be released in the direction she is confident he is approaching from, one at a time in rapid succession. It would probably be quite a scare for Nariv who is still positioned several paces in front of Meri, yet the elven woman is not her target. So long as she does not move into the line of fire, the arrows will cut through the air just over the elven woman’s shoulder. If Nariv panics though and steps in the wrong direction...Well, who ever said Meri was a nice woman? Most of the time, the niceties are just for show…
Mesdoram :: Finally back upon the surface, Mesdoram scans through the darkness of the Sage Forest; with his enchanted elemental dirks brandished in each hand, the 2-foot-long serrated steel blades illuminate a blue-silhouette around the drow’s weapons. Through Mesdoram has no trouble seeing in the pitch-black of night, his twin daggers act as makeshift glowsticks – the enchantment charmed by Thea is shines a brilliant blue which projects an ethereal aura around the drow’s 5’4” frame. Though Meri likely does not need the aid, Mesdoram’s being highlighted in a vivid hue makes target practice that much easier even for the unskilled archers of Hollow. As Mesdoram searches for Nariv, he recognizes the noticeable greenish projecting light from a cowering Nariv – filled with frustration and disappointment, Mesdoram grimaces toward his slave and makes strides to reclaim his property.
Mesdoram :: The arrogance and anger from this drow fuels him with many things: overconfidence which pumps pain-numbing adrenaline through his body; a euphoric sensation and excitement for battle that bolsters his bravado and cruelty to everything breathing and moving; nerves of steel embolden his muscle to strike with deadly precision and purpose; and a recklessness which makes him careless for his own wellbeing in any scuffle he participates in – it is the ladder prerequisite, intangible flaw that will cause him a bit of pain from Meri’s initial loosened arrow.
Mesdoram had taken but 10 steps when Meri’s arrow travelled passed an unscathed Nariv and into the shoulder of the drow – the accuracy of this missile may have been affected by Meri limiting herself to such a narrow shot next to the petrified Nariv, or perhaps even to showoff to Mesdoram what kind of night he’d be in for should this night continue: either way, the shot from the Lycan is quite impressive. The broadhead implants itself frontside just above the collarbone near the meaty part of Mesdoram’s deltoid; his battle mage attire doing very little to stop the arrow’s initial journey into Mesdoram’s body, though the enchantment from his Pifwai prevents the arrow to pierce through his shoulder blade. Instead, the arrow mocks Mesdoram and acts as reminder of his foolish error – though, this drow is not the ‘learn from your mistakes’ student; rather, a double-down in insanity until the results changes in his favor. “Stupid girl!” The man shouts, again making Meri’s job easier by giving all his position away. “Who do you think you are!?” Mesdoram readjusts his path to Nariv several feet to the right to avoid collateral damage… for the time being.
Mesdoram :: Another arrow is released in the trajectory to Mesdoram – this time, the drow handles what would have been a fatal volley. Upon hearing the fingers of Meri liberating her next assault, the drow rises his elongated blades in a crisscross ‘X’ pattern to stop this missile from puncturing his skull. Through a combination of Mesdoram’s Pifwai’s defensive charm and Thea’s protection magic, the arrow loses all its momentum and falls harmlessly by Mesdoram’s black battle boots. The successful defensive measure fills the drow with more purpose and shouts again. “Do you not know who you are messing with!” Closing the gap, the drow finds himself next to Nariv and in front of Meri with another arrow cocked and ready – even from this distance, there would be no guarantee Mesdoram could deflect anything from Meri… his thrill-seeking ways will be his death one of these days. Glaring directly as the Lycan, Mesdoram scowls and shouts. “How stupid can you be!?” If a passerby or simple spectator where to witness this interaction and declaration, house money would beat on this inquiry being directed at Meri: and like many gambling games with seemingly easy bets, those wagers would lose all their money.
Mesdoram :: A powerful kick thrusts into the quivering Nariv and sends her onto her backside; the drow master follows his cruelty with a stomp on Nariv’s collarbone to mirror Mesdoram’s injury. Nariv, who was attempting to catch her breath from Mesdoram’s 1st attack, now screams in airless agony from her master’s stamping. With a final exclamation point, the drow’s brutality ends with a steel-toed strike into Nariv’s stomach – expelling any air left in the elven woman’s frame. As she writhes in obvious pain, Mesdoram resumes his unusual lecture to his slave. “You invite a guest without offering them treats and drink? How many times must you make these simple mistakes! Stay down on the ground! You had your chance…”
Mesdoram :: The unorthodox drow takes a couple breaths to collect himself – Nariv at this time, slowly crawls away in hopes to not be part of this engagement any longer. Upon recollecting himself, Mesdoram turns back to Meri – both of them close enough to be illuminated fully by Mesdoram’s elemental daggers. “Forgive me for that…” Mesdoram speaks directly to Meri. “… Nariv lacks common sense to give warm greetings… please make yourself at ‘home.’” As Mesdoram says ‘home,’ he points to their surroundings as if this were his dwelling. Relaxing a bit again, Mesdoram looks at Meri with curious confusion. “You don’t look familiar… have I threatened you before? For what reason have has my slave brought you here?” As he waits for the Lycan’s response, Mesdoram truly adorns a look of confusion not knowing or recognizing Meri.. or perhaps his is willingly feigning ignorance to heighten the tension and excitement for what is to come next…
Meri does not react when her arrow makes contact with Mesdoram’s shoulder, not willing to let arrogance or confidence get the better of her. Nor will she let feelings of guilt consume her as Mesdoram takes his anger out on his slave, though she was starting to reconsider if Nariv had managed to issue some sort of secret warning that summoned her master. In ignoring her feelings of guilt, Meri also resisted the temptation to step in and defend Nariv during Mesdoram’s assault on her. Meri could not be certain of the drow’s abilities, the only thing that she was certain of is that he seemed capable enough to strike fear in both Nariv and Mesthak. She would hold her distance, keeping her bow poised for the assault while Mesdoram spoke.
Meri :: While the drow has issued her numerous questions, the blonde responds to none of them. Did she know who she was dealing with? Silence. Has he threatened her before? Silence. For what reason has his slave brought her there? Again, silence. If he was feigning ignorance, Meri cared not, she would not be lulled into conversation. It might at first seem like this encounter was going to end up being a total bust. Was Meri going to do anything? Or was she just going to stand there and stare? Waiting for Mesdoram to make a move? The answer to this question was both yes and no.
Meri :: The truth was, Meri’s complete mistrust for the drow as a whole meant that she was fully expecting some form of trickery to come from Mesdoram..and in part, she has not entirely written Nariv off as innocent either. Close, given the brutal attack the elf had just suffered, but not quite. Yet while Meri was not physically moving, she was still preparing an assault of her own. While Meri has already proven herself a skilled archer, her weapon would not be utilized for what happens next. Instead, the psion would rely on her telekinetic abilities to levy an attack from behind. It’s an attack that brews while Mesdoram makes his verbal demands of Meri. Rocks, both large and small in size, begin to levitate off the ground, gravitating together and moving in a circular motion. A dust devil was forming behind Mesdoram, moving at the will of the telekinetically inclined woman. It was not just rocks that ended up sucked into this small and dirt ridden whirlwind, but also twigs and small logs. Just as Mesdoram finishes his small speech, the dust devil that was summoned by the psion tears forward in a bid to consume Mesdoram. It will not take Mesdoram long to come to the realization that it does not matter the direction he moves to try and avoid being pummeled by the debris, it will give chase. All this mini-whirlwind needs to change course is a simple thought from the lycan woman that stands before him. Hopefully he does not move in the direction of poor Nariv, she will end up collateral damage. Again. To make things more difficult for the drow, while he is presumably distracted with doding this unnatural force, Meri begins to release another stream of arrows at him. This might seem illogical, like any shots fired would any up caught up in the whirlwind and be rendered mostly useless….but as that moving vortex of debris has been summoned at the will of the psion? Well, the course of the arrows will remain alarmingly accurate.
Meri :: It is while all of this is happening that Meri finally sees fit to speak, but her explanation remains short. She was not about to let herself get too distracted by making some long-winded monologue. “You left a note that was clearly written in blood. I asked around and began to track you down. You just happened to find me first. Your poor slave didn’t even have the chance to invite me over.”
Mesdoram curiously observes the stoicism presented by Meri – a woman of few words, poised with deadly purpose, disciplined and dedicated to her agenda, and not swayed or distracted by mere theatrics of this drow. Cocking his head ever so slightly, a sense of admiration and fondness consumes his tiny frame never meeting a person of such focus before. Taking her words to heart, Mesdoram grins an evil sadistic grin back Meri almost taunting her to loosen another arrow from this range – his steely eyes projecting the confidence of a mad man with truly nothing to lose.
Mesdoram :: From the side of the two combatants, Nariv notices Meri’s terrestrial assault beginning to manifest and take aim at her master. Fearing retaliation from either, the elven mage mutters softly under her breath an anchoring incantation on Mesdoram – a spell which would ground his body to the Sage Forest floor even in the most violent of gales. Her incantation envelopes Mesdoram in an identical blue silhouette – the lighting around Mesdoram does flicker for a moment but would only be noticeable for those looking for trickery or anticipated the abused elf to intervene in some way – perhaps the aura flickered as a result from Meri’s torrent summoning or Mesdoram moved his blades causing a brief fluctuation. Through Nariv’s archaic charms would protect Mesdoram from being uplifted into the swirling vortex, this spell would offer no protection against the debris from pummeling his body – perhaps this spell is a guise to inflict massive damage against her master and free her from servitude. As the storm shrouds Mesdoram from both Nariv and Meri, the drow does feel the extra weight applied to him from his elven slave – it was not the first time Nariv has cast this spell on his tiny frame. This may put a damper in Meri’s plan to shoot Mesdoram’s arrogant face, but perhaps the prospect of him being skewered by her manifested storm will be a nice secondary prize.
Mesdoram :: The dust devil has now grown to a 20-foot tornado that has collected all sorts of fragments from the forest floor: twigs the length of arms, rocks the size of fist, tree leaves that are now razor blades in this torrential assault, and a few unlucky animals who are caught unintentionally in this collision course of these sociopaths. Mesdoram being held firmly in place by Nariv’s charm covers his eyes as he embraces for everything to come his way – his enchanted blue blades being crisscrossed to further shield his unprotected head. These winds are vicious indeed and now completely engulf the fastened man. In a bit of unintended absurdity, the first bit of damage inflicted is Meri’s arrow being ripped from Mesdoram’s shoulder – the foreign missile now joins in the circulation in the swirling storm. A myriad of tiny debris can be heard clanging off the spell blades armor as the concentrated storm constantly pelts him endlessly; however, the malice from this storm is powerful enough to make even a single grain of dirt feel like the sharpest knife - If this storm were to finish Mesdoram, it would be death by a thousand cuts. The annoying dust particles act as paper cuts harm Mesdoram in two ways – barely grazing him and causing minuscule bleeding to impacting forcefully and bruising his exposed skin.
Mesdoram :: As the storm wears away at the drow, Mesdoram grins wickedly at the prospect of battle. Through the torrents, Mesdoram begins his counterattack and grips his blades tightly which manipulates the moisture level inside the storm. With his preferred earthly brand sleeping soundly in the UnderDark, Mesdoram’s intends to use Thea’s blades to turn this dusty devil into an icy storm. Little by little, the dust begins turning into ice pellets, the temperature drop begins hardening the twigs into glacier spikes, and rocks encased in solid ice. Though only fragments inside the storm are cold enough to solidify, the air around Meri and Nari is frigid enough the cause their exhales to form a visible vapor from their mouth. As the winds whip vigorously, Mesdoram is invertedly struck by one of his icicle missiles through his left shoulder – in a similar place to Meri’s original arrow. As the pain sends him into a fit, he can’t help but laugh at the irony at his self-inflicted wound – a laugh that is echoed throughout the Sage Forest and perhaps most of Kelay and Cenril as the gusts have the potential to carry sounds endlessly.
Mesdoram :: “NOT MUCH FOR SMALL TALK, EH?!” Mesdoram powerfully boast into the storm. “SO BE IT!”
Mesdoram :: With that said, Mesdoram vigorously slashes both his dirks through the icy slushy of their combined creation. In a 360-degree radius, fragments of Mesdoram’s and Meri’s storm are flung in an instant. From the enormous amount of force accumulated, this powerful projection will act as a buzz-saw and demolish all the forest, foliage, and shrubbery backwards in a perfectly symmetrical manner. The unlucky animals enveloped in this storm are heard shrieking as they are catapulted from their homes. Nariv, fearing the worst from Mesdoram’s muffled declaration, had started to run away in hopes to avoid the worst – her envision tactics proves successful but not to her liking. Instead, she gets sent through the forest by the enormous magnitude of force and cannot be seen anymore – did she have enough time to protect herself with an enchantment of sorts? Did she become an unintended consequence from these two psychopaths? These questions would not be answered tonight.
Mesdoram :: The storm subsides and shrouds the forest floor in a dusty fog, and in the center of the calamity stands Mesdoram – adorning a newly icy branch in his shoulder, hundreds of tiny papercut-like injuries, and more than enough bruises to darken his already ebony complexion. Finally opening his eyes, Mesdoram admires the assault he has produced. Was his counter enough to catch Meri off guard and slaughter her with the Lycan’s own creation? Was she carried out of the battle arena in similar fashion the Nariv? Has she already devised her next plan of action? Or had she had enough with Mesdoram? No matter the answer to these questions, Mesdoram stands proudly amidst the chaos he has created not carry at all who may have been hurt.
Meri :: Even if Meri was more inclined to hold a conversation with Mesdoram, the blonde could not even begin to explain the subtle nuisances between psion and mage. It seemed like the blonde certainly wielded some form of magic, but the source that magic was not arcane in nature. Which meant that she had no way to detect that Nariv was casting any spell on her master without directly looking at the elf, which is not something that Meri was fully willing to do at this point. It was a gamble, to not pay the slave much mind once she started fighting with the drow, as Nariv could easily catch Meri off guard due to the woman’s lack of attention. This is due in part to Meri perceiving Mesdoram as the more deadly threat but also in part to the fact that in order to keep the small tornado in motion, the psion had to keep her concentration and focus on it’s target. Her mind could only be pulled in so many directions, if she became too distracted then the tornado would fizzle out.
Meri :: It would not take long for that distraction to begin to form. Meri could feel that the temperature was dropping significantly, it was hard to overlook as she was not exactly dressed for winter weather. She could also see the change in temperature, as every time she exhaled her warm breath was visible in the cold air. Mesdoram would not be able to see it but the hair on the back of Meri’s neck was beginning to stand on end out of anticipation for whatever spell Mesdoram was summoning. There was another distraction, this one came from Nariv, for out of Meri’s peripheral vision the blonde could see the elven slave attempting to run away from the battle. Did Nariv have some sort of knowledge of the attack that was to come? This was not something that Meri could put much thought into for Mesdoram’s booming words pull the lycan’s focus back on him fully. Which is where it needed to be as the purpose of the storm was about to make itself known to the psion.
Meri :: Shards and fragments from Meri’s makeshift storm and Mesdoram’s contribution to it are freed from the wind currents of the tornado only to end up buzzing the forest in their immediate vicinity. While Meri’s telekinetic abilities mean that she is more than apt to defend against this latest attack, it also means that she will have to abandon her current assault on Mesdoram. This happens rapidly, as Meri’s psionic abilities are controlled by thoughts rather than incantations and yet Meri is not quick enough that she is able to fully avoid damage. It will take a few moments for the momentum of the winds to fully die down, even once Meri has shifted her telekinetic focus from her attack to Mesdoram’s. The same logic applies to slowing the force of Mesdoram’s current blast, Meri is not able to bring it to an immediate halt. She is able to slow the energy behind this attack just in time to avoid being severed and meeting an untimely end. Still, she’ll suffer from several lacerations from the oncoming debris. Some of these cuts are deeper than others but much like Mesdoram, Meri does not cry out in pain. At best she grits her teeth and keeps her focus. The blonde would not be high-tailing it out of there like Nariv did.
Meri :: Turnabout is fair play in Meri’s book too. The fragments that Meri was able to slow and prevent from sawing her down like the forest around her are currently suspended in mid-air but they will not remain so for long. Once more, Meri’s psionic powers are put to good use and the fragments are shot directly back at Mesdoram via some unseen energy. Is Nariv’s spell still weighting him down to the ground? It would be unfortunate if it was because not only will he be skewered by another onslaught of debris but this time he also has to contend with a psionic blast of energy. Every attack that is currently being unleashed on Mesdoram comes at a cost, each one is quite taxing on Meri. The blonde is used to performing only small feats with her abilities, it’s not often that she utilizes them heavily in attack after attack.
Mesdoram :: This improvised sparring sessions has escalated beyond Mesdoram’s intention; for a night beginning alone in the Underdark looking for entertainment, this was an unexpected turn of events. Mesdoram mentality certainly has been tested this dark evening: the tiny man (5’4” 140ish pounds), while blood-thirsty in nature, isn’t built to tank heavy hits without the aid of armory and Nariv’s protection spells.
Mesdoram :: The battle mage has no companions other than Vexar and Nariv and spends most of his life constantly checking over his shoulder… wondering when his Sin’s will catch up with him... and if Meri was someone he has harmed intentionally or inadvertantly... A lonely existence compared to his previous life - the idea of Mesdoram’s somber and peaceful past would shock and bewilder even his most unsympathetic adversaries. Perhaps another time, the drow could make amends and daresay have friends… true friendship and comradery. Alas, before Mesdoram’s time to die finally comes, no one will shed a tear for this tormented soul.
Mesdoram :: Particles of fog, icy dust, and broken branches aerosol into a makeshift midst that tediously transforms into a smoke that hovers harmlessly like a dry-ice effect on theatrical stages. Mesdoram is exhausted and stands alone in the aftermath of fallen trees – ironically, the tiny man is now among the tallest figures in a once beautiful wood. Heavy breathing, weapons gripped haphazardly to his sides, and body relaxing as the adrenaline wears off, Mesdoram looks at around at the devastation he is accustomed to causing. A sort of peaceful wave of blissful euphoria envelopes his body as he gazes upon his work; sadly for Mesdoram, causing havoc is the only time he feels any relief and comfort… due to his cursed and twisted nature. Forgetting for a moment where he is, the weary drow drops his head and looks at his body: bloody shoulder from his previously injury, breast plate and spiked-iron armory pelted from the plethora of debris whipped around Mesdoram’s and Meri’s storm, and any exposed skin cut enough to produce miniature blood streams.
Mesdoram :: Just as he gets lost in his thoughts, the first round of projectiles impact Mesdoram’s armor in multiple locations: several small trigs protrude from Mesdoram’s arm as the chain-link style armor offers no protection from missile-type weaponry; collisions against Mesdoram’s heavily armored body parts bounce of his wrists, legs, and chest areas; and luckily for the man, his unprotected head remains unscathed for now. Interesting enough for anyone witnessing this assault, Mesdoram did not move or wince in pain with any of these spikey projectiles. Two reasons being: He is still encumbered by Nariv’s enchantment which needs Nariv to turn off this spell, and Mesdoram losing a will to fight and feel anything. As Mesdoram realizes what has happened, he looks up pitifully to Meri and notices her psion attack coming to possibly deliver a fatal blow. This method of psionic ability is completely foreign to Mesdoram and does not know if the enchantments from Princess Thea’s dirks will provide any form of protection; however, not wanting to die tonight, the drow attends to try to preserve his life.
Mesdoram raises his twin dirks in attempts to replicate his crisscross ‘X’ method from earlier; unfortunately for him, his left arm is depleted of all energy from Meri’s missile attack and simply releases his left dirk due to lack of strength. With his single blade without his brother, Mesdoram meets his fate… ready or not. Meri’s blast impacts Mesdoram with tremendous force and manages to move the drow backwards despite Nariv’s charm. Mesdoram’s battle boots, along with Nariv’s enchantment, do the best to grind and resist Meri’s assault as he is tediously moved back 2 feet… 4 feet… 6 feet… then 10 feet from Mesdoram’s original position. It seems Thea’s power blades possess enough ability to stave and contain Meri’s skill, but not enough to absorb or squall Meri’s ability completely.
Mesdoram :: Mustering what strength his right arm has remaining, Mesdoram swings his dirk across his body and sends the energy along its way to Mesdoram’s left. Before departing the scene, the energy projection grazes Mesdoram’s chest plate and cracks the metal near his collarbone. Certainly, if it were not for Thea’s enchantments and gifting these dirks to Mesdoram many years ago, Meri’s blast certainly would be killed – or at the very least, have a sizeable hole in his chest for Nariv to franticly try to mend her master’s wound.
Mesdoram :: A tense silence grows as the chaotic events have now seem to die down… the two combatants remain standing in their respective corners. Truth be told, Mesdoram doesn’t have many cards left to play… though a very experienced spell blade, drows do not have the endurance to go 10 rounds with physically and stronger opponents: Meri has certainly pushed Mesdoram to his limits. Overcome with exhaustion, he drops his remaining blade to the Sage floor: his brother’s blade being swept away from Meri’s projection. Mesdoram, feeling more ‘human’ and feeling like his former self, pleas to Meri.
Mesdoram :: “I do not know who you are, lycan.” Mesdoram speaks clearly between deep breaths. “Nor do I care…” Through gritted teeth and pure adrenaline strength, Mesdoram strides to his original standing spot before being forced backwards. Upon reaching his destination, the drow addresses Meri without any weaponry. “But if I were you… I’d leave.” Conjuring up a mixture of truths and half-truths, Mesdoram begins his bluff. “By now, Nariv, Vexar, and all of the Underdark have heard my shouts and battle with you. If you do not leave, a myriad of drows will be coming for you in minutes.” Bloodied, bruised, and weary… Mesdoram shifts his tone as if talking to a friend. “Whatever I have done to cross you, I don’t want to see you massacred, tortured, or wosre….” Even though the idea of drows coming from every angle is a lie, there is sincerity in Mesdoram’s tone about not wanting to kill Meri.
Mesdoram :: “Vexar…. My brother… do not do it…” Mesdoram says loud enough for Meri to hear, not knowing Meri’s and Vexar’s relationship with one another. Mesdoram is invoking his brother’s name to run another bluff – that Vexar could possibly retaliate... even Meri didn’t know who Vexar was or that they were brothers, certainly she knows what power he possesses. “Forgive this person… you know my nature… I’m sorry brother…” With that said, he grabs his heavily wounded left arm and makes a final attempt. “Do what you must, woman… but know you are not the one who is supposed to kill me… and ‘she’ would not be happy with my early demise. My suffering in this world is not supposed to be over… do not grant me mercy from ‘her’ wrath.”
Mesdoram :: With that said, Mesdoram has pleaded his case why he should live – to suffer more. The man does not wait for Meri to respond or act, but elects to turn his back on the woman and begins walking away from the battle field. With his enchanted Pifwai draped over his back that would protect him from a myriad of counterattacks, Mesdoram limps away toward the entrance and would only be stopped if Meri choses to continue the battle…
Meri :: The blonde pays little heed to the damage that has been wrought on the surrounding environment. That would be a detail for Meri to concern herself with later. Instead, Meri holds her ground as she watches her attack unfold, studying the way that Mesdoram manages to defend and deflect the onslaught that she has cast his way. This is all done with the intention of using this information against him, so that she can better predict and defend the next attack that her opponent sends her way.
Meri :: When no further attack from Mesdoram comes, Meri is surprised but she would not reveal this emotion to the drow. The blonde remains her stoic self, at first. There is a slight change in demeanor when Mesdoram invokes the name of Vexar, but Meri’s shift in expression does not last for long but it is not fear that strikes Meri’s face for those brief moments. That fleeting expression is one of familiarity, though Meri’s knowledge of Vexar does not run as deep as might be expected. The blonde has seen Vexar fight in a duel or two and she may even have heard rumors that Vexar may be part of a certain secret organization...yet the two have never spoken.
Meri :: Mesdoram’s pleas, as filled with arrogance as they might be, are not easily bought into. The lycan’s senses are sensitive enough to know if in fact someone else is approaching them. Maybe it is the lack of scent that alerts her of Mesdoram’s bluff. Perhaps it is the fact that she does not hear the approach of anyone else. Or maybe it is the woman’s psionic abilities that clue her to the fact that no one is likely coming to Mesdoram’s rescue at this moment, not even Vexar himself. While the temptation to press this fight on is there, Meri is not about to let her general hatred for the drow kind blind her completely in this moment. The blonde may only have vague knowledge of Vexar, Meri has nothing but love and respect for Magik, the elf who leads the organization that both she and Vexar are a part of. Plus, even if the blonde refuses to show it to the drow, she is starting to feel the toll of their battle. This combination of details means that Meri does not press on with this fight in a bid to fully end Mesdoram’s life.
Meri :: Instead Meri finally lowers her weapon. It is still kept in hand but the lycan does remove her hand from her bowstring entirely so that it can slip into her bag. For what though? A roll of bandages, surprisingly. This mercy is only afforded to Mesdoram because he happened to reveal the fact that Vexar is his brother to Meri. This show of kindness is going to be very limited, for Meri is not about to approach and attempt to play nurse to Mesdoram. Instead the bandages will be tossed to him, landing near him with accuracy that is likely afforded to her by her psionic abilities. “No one is coming for you, that much I am keenly aware of. Though if you are lucky than Nariv will come back for you and assist you….Though why she would is entirely beyond me. If I were here I would use this moment to escape you entirely. She could undoubtedly make it to Cenril and find passage to freedom before you are even well enough to locate her. So if she does make the mistake of returning to you? Perhaps you should learn to afford her the same kindness that she is showing you.” Meri doubted that Mesdoram would though. Hopefully Nariv would make the wise decision and escape his tyranny entirely. “And next time you decide to leave notes written in blood?” Meri makes vague motion to the very damaged forests that they are standing in, “Remember whose forests these are.”
Meri has no interest in lingering in Msdoram’s company long enough to hear what he has to say in response to her. As suddenly as their battle has started, it ends. The blonde does not stalk her way from Mesdoram. Instead the woman steps back and is consumed by shadows. Where Meri ends up? Mesdoram can only guess.