RP:Just A Shadow
Note
This is part of the The Obsidian Pool - The First Wave story arc.
In The Dark Fortress
Unseen, unheard, Eldritch moves like the shadow he is, shifting in the unsteady light, camouflaged against lesser darknesses with only the slitted viridian of his pupils to give a gleam now and then; a will-o-the-wisp light that is here, and gone. He watches and he waits...
Imar 's gaze shifts from the water, to the stranger, and a haunted look is evident in his amber eyes.
The way oil repels water, so will the perceptions of others slide from Eldritch’s form, the sort of illusion one finds upon walking alone on a moonless night; the shuddering knowledge of being watched, the fleeting shadow that looms ... and is revealed to be merely a product of one's imagination.
Imar doesn't see the lurking form of the second stranger, yet the drow detects a hostile mind, and his hackles rise in reflexive challenge.
Larewen is seems to have not noticed another presence at all aside from the form of Imar lurking near the pool. Upon him her gaze remains, ever so quiet.
Imar sniffs the air, and his gaze shifts with predatory alertness as he inspects every detail of the shadowy environment. Turning the vampiress, his voice is low and resonant "We are not alone here"
Slipping through the cracks in the light he slides toward the obsidian waters, not a ripple is made as Eldritch merges with that midnight liquid. And looking out, a dim reflection, laughter unsounded, he sinks from view. Yet on that surface, floating like oil on water, is a vision... A temptation. A promise...
Larewen 's elven ears quirk curiously before straining to hear the movement of whatever else may be about. No words are offered towards the drow. Her amber eyes quietly seek whatever form may be lurking about, lingering momentarily on the remnants of the statues that had attacked them earlier.
Larewen 's gaze once again turns to that glassy surface of the odd pool, brow furrowed deeply. As its promises are made, it takes everything the woman has to keep from nearing it. She had gotten as close as she wished to earlier when she had backed towards it after letting the rift shut, and that was too close enough.
Imar’s eyes widen as he finally catches sight of the moving shadow, but before he can do anything about it, the form slips silently into the ink stained darkness of the pool. The drow purses his lips in thought, and stares at the rippling water for a long time. "Tene has enemy coming for her"
Larewen nonchalantly chews upon the lower tier of her lips, a mutter curse passing from there. "This isn't good..." Of course, stating the obvious never really helps.
Eldritch rises once more, mocking lilt to lips and glint to eye. Ever watchful, ever patient and always in the shadows. To these he dissipates seamlessly; called elsewhere by need and .... desire.