RP:Kirien Takes a Corbin to the Knee
Unlike most drow houses in the city of Trist'Oth, House Stavret is not beautiful to look upon, nor is it framed in the faerie fire so many use to proclaim the skill of their mages. Its beauty and grace comes from a sense of lurking menace; the almost tangible essence of hidden malice that flows from the sharp spires of the stalagmites that've been moulded into the large halls of the drow's home. Many dark-elves move around the grounds, though very few of them are visible even to drow eyes. It is protected from the horrors of the Underdark by a pair of large and finely crafted adamantite gates. Behind them is a path which winds through the grounds occupied by House Stavret and enters into the throne room where the Patron's grotesque throne sits. It is carved from a single piece of obsidian; its edges are twisted and grate upon the senses of any who are not steeped in malice. And from it the Patron of House Stavret rules this home, protecting both it and Trist'oth from the many, many dangers that are always close here in the Underdark. If you come uninvited, now would be the time to leave.
Corbin didn't know the drow's name, but it didn't take long to find it out! "He's tall with white hair and knives that go forever!" Kuzial, they told him. Stay away, they said. He'll kill you, he was warned. Well so much for listening. When you feed some adults enough alcohol, they'll say anything. Like giving directions to the house of the stabbitiest of drows to a little kid. And now here he is, looking up at the gates. This has to be it. Even the dirt looks like it would stab you if given the chance. Gates are meant for keeping people out, but when gates are made, they don't always think about keeping everybody out. One arm slips between the bars and then his shoulders. Well damn. Maybe you should lay off the cookies, eh? So there the boy sits, wedged in a gate with half of him inside and the other dangling on the outside. He grunts, pushing on the bars with hands and feet, trying to get unstuck.
Kirien’s hand is laid in the palm of a taller drow’s, diamond fingers glittering in the faint blueish half-light emanating from a copse of bioluminescent fungi growing nearby. “See,” he says with an unseen smile, while the drow turns his hand this way and that and inspects it with an uncharacteristic gentleness, as though afraid of breaking the seemingly-delicate limb. He is staring quite a lot, actually, until finally the empath tires of his quiet awe and tuts at him. “Marlise, you needn’t treat me like I’m made of glass. Diamond is one of the hardest minerals there is.” A grin follows, then, when the other lifts his gaze to blink up at him. “I could still break your jaw.” Marlise frowns at that and draws back, putting a comfortable amount of distance between them again as Kirien slips his glove back on, covering up the only part of his body he dared show. “And elsewhere?” he asks with a motion to the empath’s figure - it’s Kirien’s turn to blink at him. He nods, slowly. “Yes. Not everywhere, but...it’s getting there.” Apparently this is not what Marlise wanted to hear and the faintest hint of concern flickers over his features, but his smaller companion is having none of that. He waves off the guard’s worry with typical nonchalance, turning to make his way across the compound to the gates, where a couple of drow are beginning to congregate in a tangled mass of confused emotions. They’re wondering aloud how the boy stuck in their gate even made it down here alive, asking what he wants, what he thinks they might offer him here aside from a quick but painful death. Swords are unsheathed, but luckily none have attempted to stick Corbin yet. “Is it bad?” Marlise asks, not referring to the boy, falling into step at the genasi’s side. Kirien shrugs. “You should be more concerned...” mutters the guard with a sigh, before he muscles his way through to the front of the group, Kirien weaving in his footsteps.
The empath comes to an abrupt pause when he lays blind eyes upon the source of this disturbance; a boy, a human boy, stuck half in their gate. Unseen, his mouth drops open - he manages a slightly stunned, “Oh.” Now it makes sense. He figured his senses were acting up again when he spotted the boy in his periphery, but it appears not. He smacks the drow next to him on the shoulder, who was making to prod Corbin in the stomach with a blade. He asks the kid, “Is there, um...something you want?”
Corbin isn't going to let these guards intimidate him! He doesn't even know what intimidate means! Such a big word for such a little boy. He growls and swats at the prodding swords. "Rooooar!" Cause that is what bears do when they aren't happy about something. The boy snorts and swats at the guards some more with his claws. Of course there is something he wants! Boys don't just wander for the sake of wandering! There are reasons to be had. Learning reasons. Maybe that will help! From somewhere on his person, the boy imitates that drow he knows and produces the gifted dagger. Maybe it is recognized. Maybe it is just an expensive throwaway. Either way, the dagger is held in both bear paws like a sword. What would his teacher say? "I'm gonna give your faces a Knuckle Sandwich and make your dog watch and then eat your... no that's gross... and then feed you to starving children!" Yeah, that sounds scary. Starving children will eat anything. Luckily, Corbin's mom is a good cook.
Kirien is not at all sure what he should make of this...bewildering situation. Finding a human boy stuck in their gates is the most unlikely thing but here it is, and as far as he’s aware, Kirien is not dreaming. The knife produced has him doubting that all over again, though - it is a typical dagger and there are hundreds like it, but the empath knows who it last belonged to. Kuzial’s emotional fingerprints are all over that thing. “Oh,” he says again, exhaling the syllable on a little breath. His lack of action prompts one of the other drow into snapping, “Let’s cut his tongue out first. I haven’t skewered a bear since my last trip to the surface.” Apparently, he’s good enough with kids to understand what Corbin was imitating, and for that gets a couple of smirks from the others. He also earns himself an elbow to the ribs, and it’s an elbow made of diamond at that. Kirien stares without saying anything at the boy for a long moment, then reaches out and promptly grabs him by the sides of his face, almost in the same manner one squeezes a kid’s cheeks, except it lacks that same affection. “That wasn’t answering the question.” He pulls back, having determined that this is definitely not a dream. “Even the most vicious warriors are polite enough to state their business when stuck in a House gate.” Or smart enough, maybe.
Kirien slants a sidelong look at Marlise, hands on his hips. “Will you open the gate, or am I going to have to pull him through myself?”
Corbin quickly snaps his mouth shut. He doesn't want his tongue cut out! At least he's doing a good job at being a bear. Today is for being a drow though! That is another thing he learned while asking around. Kuzial is a drow and drow are not to be messed around with. Especially the Kuzidrow. But why didn't his threat work? Maybe he did it wrong! Those sounded like words Kuzial would have used. Maybe he wasn't snarly enough. Maybe if he said it in drow. Too bad he doesn't know drow. And then he's looking eye to eye with Kirien only his eyes widen. "Woah. You have strong hands." His face is dropped, leaving only an easy grin there for the empath. "Oh yeah!" Polite. "I'm Corbin. And Kuzial gave me this knife cause he's gonna teach me how to fight!" The dagger is held up, still tainted with the drow's accidental blood. He squirms a little, twisting until he is upside down in the gate. "Can you help me? I'm stuck."
“We’re not opening the gate for a dead man,” the gate captain tells Kirien stiffly, interrupting whatever reply Marlise might have made. So Kirien simply shrugs at him and answers, “So you won’t mind me bending some bars, will you?” Turning back to the gate and Corbin, the empath reaches up and, for the first time, removes his hood in public. For months now he’s hidden his features behind the cover of the enchanted cloak and allowed the drow to think what they will - here, safely protected from the outside world by House Stavret’s high walls, he’s revealing his true face to the others. His hair is dark, perhaps auburn, his skin pale and even moreso in comparison to all the drow around him. There’s a collective intake of air when they see him but Kirien is only focused on Corbin. That they do not run him through tells him enough. “You aren’t the only outsider Kuzial’s brought here,” he tells the boy with just the hint of a smile, before reaching out to take hold of the two bars he’s managed to squeeze himself between, gripping just above his head. A whisper sparks on his lips, golden and -alive- - the adamantite reacts in turn to this subtle call, parting easily around Corbin until he can wriggle through into the compound. Once he’s made it, Kirien presses the gate back into shape and quietly thanks it for its cooperation, and by the time he turns back around, many of the drow are beginning to slink back to their posts. Marlise gives him a long look that suggests they’ll have to talk later, then he too heads for the stairs leading up onto the walls. Kirien makes a face at his retreating back.
Corbin kind of laughs a little. Bend bars? Nobody can just bend bars. Maybe the giants, but that's cause they are super strong and can bend whatever they want to. Too busy not believing, he tumbles out of the gate to land at Kirien's feet. "Woah." Surprisingly enough, the dagger didn't stab him. Especially since its previous owner is who he is. You'd think that guy's weapons would stab people on their own. The boy looks up at the very pale Kirien. "You're way strong!" The dagger is tucked away as Corbin stands. "I bet you're stronger than a bear!" Poor Kings are so easily dismissed. Skinny arms lift skinny fists into the air like those steroid meatheads like to do when they announce that 'these guns are concealed weapons.' "How do you get so strong? Can you throw mountains?" His fists come down and around to his waist so his arms form a circle in front of him. Little grunts escape him even though he doesn't know what a bodybuilder is or the types of noises they make while feeling the burn.
Kirien turns that blind gaze from Marlise to Corbin and tries not to grin outright at the boy. Instead, the corners of his mouth quirk up slightly at the corners. “Maybe. Usually I’m stronger than this.” With a body that is caught between two vastly different extremes and does not conform to either...well, he’s been having trouble here and there, to say the least. “I killed a bear once, though.” A gesture of the hand indicates the boy should follow him closely, and then Kirien is moving across the compound, following the pathway through the grounds to the enormous stalagmite that plays host to the patron’s throne room, and many other rooms beyond. He heaves an inward sigh, wondering quietly why they have seen so many visitors lately...and always when Kuzial is not present to receive them. Kirien would almost feel compelled to chide him for it were he not so used to this, and besides, he’s been particularly absent from his own duties in Frostmaw for a while now. Arms cross over his chest and he turns to look back at the gates, shut tight and impenetrable. There is no one to open to - but he’ll return soon. That was part of the promise. “I suppose I can throw mountains,” he says to Corbin with a blink down at him. “I don’t see why I would, though - that’s kind of bullying, shoving them around like that. I’m not a bully. I’m an earthsinger.” Black doors yawn wide, opening up into a deserted hallway beyond where the walls bristle with weapons; trophies of war. “And you?” asks Kirien with a slight tilt of his head. “What are you? You’ve a dagger and some claws, and...a spark.” He can feel that.
Corbin kind of tramples behind Kirien, listening and looking and taking everything in. Chocolate brown, teacup saucer eyes stare with a mouth in a silently permanent 'oooh' while they walk. The boy has never been in this area before. It is quite curiously amazing he is still alive, if the truth were to be told. It is probably a good thing that the very small are usually not noticed. Earthsinger. That would explain the ease of metal bending! Though it does sadden the boy a bit to know that it is magics that moved the bars and not a super strong skinny guy. Cause scrawny boys are scrawny boys, but that doesn't mean he is useless! The sad is quickly tossed aside for a bounce of excitement. "I'm..." What are you, kid? "...a mage!" Oh Kirien. What have you done? "But I'm not very good cause I can only do a little bit of magic but I met a wizard and we went on a waterslide that was really fun and I like him a lot even though he doesn't have many teeth but that's okay cause I bet those are enough to chew his food and my mom makes good food and wizard robes but Kuzial doesn't like dresses or hats OH! He gave me this dagger and said he'd teach me how to fight cause well I don't know why but he said he was gonna and then I met a bear in the woods and the bear was all 'rawra' and I was all 'stay back, bear' and then the bear knocked my knife away, but I wasn't scared and I wrestled him, but I think he won -- oooh, what's this?" Shiny weapons easily distract talkful boys. He moves up to one of the walls so his nose is inches away from something quite vicious looking.
Kirien’s drifting, both physically and in thought. He paces the room without actually going anywhere, ending up right back where he started - not too far from the entrance, the doors to the throne room looming ominously at the far end of the hall. However, he does make an effort to listen to Corbin and the boy’s retelling of his various encounters, exuberant and full of childish zeal, serve as a good distraction from the darker thoughts crowding the empath’s mind. There will be time for that later...first he has to work out what to do with this boy. Letting him run wild in the Underdark is out of the question, and so is allowing him to stay in House Stavret - Kirien might have earned his place here but he’s almost certain the drow might protest Corbin’s living, breathing presence. “Kuzial doesn’t like sleeves either. I’m surprised he doesn’t hate every other item of clothing,” he remarks with a snort, shutting the front doors behind him. It will not be enough to keep the slyest of drow out, but it will do for now. “He gave you that, though?” A hand motions to the dagger. “And said he’d teach you how to fight? I hope no one here presumes he’s going soft...that ‘soft’ Kuzial will be the last thing they see.” There’s a shift, a soft sound of movement from higher up in a half-hidden alcove - Kirien allows himself a small grin. Let them mull over that for a while, the traitorous bastards. “That’s a morningstar. Try not to impale yourself on it,” he adds in afterthought, eyeing the spiky weapon Corbin is close to pricking his eyes out with.
Corbin is quite mesmerized by the morningstar. "Yah. We're gonna fight demons with toothpicks." His voice comes out in a bit of a daze, quite the opposite of the hurricane that happened only a moment before. "I gotta practice hard so he doesn't Knuckle Sandwich my eye." A single finger lifts to oh so lightly pet a less than spiky bit of the morningstar. "Can I hold it?"
“Demons. With toothpicks.” He -almost- sounds disbelieving, but it’s likely the total opposite of that. This is made especially obvious when a small, but strangely affectionate smile works its way onto his face despite his best efforts to keep it hidden. Kirien shakes his head. “How very like him. And I suppose you can - just make sure to grab the handle, not the spikes.” He sticks out his tongue at the kid then approaches the wall, drifting fingers ghosting the hilts of weapons that have not been moved in centuries, until finally he selects an ornate, curved dagger with a slightly serrated edge. Perhaps Kuzial won this one, perhaps his father did - he cannot tell. “I’ll spar, if you like. I’m nowhere near as good as he is but...any practice is good practice, right? Besides, we’ve got to make sure he won’t Knuckle Sandwich your eye when he gets back.” He lifts the dagger to point it at Corbin, then moves it in a ‘come hither’ motion, expectant.
Corbin very easily lights up once he is given permission to hold the weapon. "Yes! I need practice." Especially since his best friend has been missing forever! Which makes the boy sad, but he quickly gets over it once the morningstar is lifted from the wall. "Woah!" The ball heavily clanks on the ground, nearly smashing the boy right on his foot. "I think this one is broken." He strains, pulling on the handle while the spikey end pretty much denies him the option to actually use the weapon properly. The boy frowns, ready to kick the thing for being a jerk, then thinks it is probably not best to kick things with spikes on them. "Come on, dumb thing!" Both hands on the handle, he spreads his feet and gives the mightiest of tugs. This doesn't move the weapon so much as the puft of air the boy sends beneath the spikey ball end, forcing it into the air so it sails right for Kirien's belly. The aim belongs to no one. Especially not the boy who is being carried along -barely on his feet- by the morningstar.
Kirien might have snickered at his antics. “It’s not broken.” He’s surprisingly quick to react for one who spends much of his time drifting around aimlessly...but he’s also hanging around drow daily, so it is perhaps expected of him to be quick on his feet. Today, at least, where his legs aren’t acting up...or so he thinks. A knee lifts to block the arc of the morningstar when it comes sailing for his abdomen, the sharp -clang!- of metal against metal ringing out through the hall. Kirien’s hand snaps out to wrap his fingers round Corbin’s wrist and, utilising the boy’s own momentum, the empath spins them both until he has turned a full three-sixty degrees and sent Corbin stumbling around past him. He eyes the boy’s back and is about to leap in for a counterattack when the pain hits, striking with a suddenness that surprises even him. A sharp gasp precedes Kirien collapsing to his knees, which only serves to make the agony worse. “Oh, -ow-.” Okay, so he can feel in his legs today. That’s probably karma for cheating and blocking the strike with them. “Uhm. Time-out? I wasn’t expecting that.” It’s a good thing Kuzial isn’t here to see either of them failing so hard. “Damn, I think you dented it.”
Corbin releases the morningstar as he is sent tumbling head over heels in one direction while the weapon flies in another. The tumble doesn't take so much out of the boy as the shock of actually making contact with Kirien. He didn't think he'd hit anything, let alone another person. "You blocked with your knee! Man, that was..." Excitement then worry then fear race at Kirien in a matter of seconds. "Are you okay?" And then the boy himself races. "What happened? Are you broken? What did I dent?" He is on his knees right beside the gensai, peering into his face for any kind of indication of...indicating! He doesn't get too close, just in case. "Can I help?"
Kirien falls back to sit properly, extending his legs out gingerly in front of him. “Broken...I sure hope not.” He’s not certain he can fix up broken legs, even like this...he’s never injured himself badly enough to need to experiment with that particular aspect of it. Rolling up his breeches, he reveals to the boy that there is more to those apparent adamantite boots than meets the eye - rather, the metal simply continues beyond what appears to be the top of the boot, extending into the flesh beyond...until it blends with the remaining flesh of Kirien’s legs, lightening and softening into pale skin. Kirien smiles wanly at him. “It’ll be fine.” His knee is very clearly dented, concave where it should be smooth. The empath inspects it with tentative fingers, trying to brush off the cloud of emotions wafting from Corbin. “I think I can...” He attempts to reshape it, the metal pushing back outward as the genasi flinches, frowns, and finishes the repair job as quickly as possible. “There. Good as new.” Except it still hurts.
Corbin is still on his knees when his rump hits the floor between his feet. "Are you sure?" Pant legs are lifted to reveal what Kirien really is. What is he? The boy's brow furrows in that confused way that people get. Without asking, he reaches out to touch the metal bit of Kirien's leg. There is a short breath and then another when the concave bit pops out. No words are said. There aren't any. Corbin just looks up at Kirien's face. Silent. Grinning. And now Kirien is the coolest person in all the lands. All of them. Even Frostmaw. Cooler than Frostmaw!
Kirien is falling apart, but he’s doing a good job of holding it all together. There are so many things hanging on his survival, on his making it through this, that he can’t afford to let it get to him. “Sure. If it was still skin, I’d probably have one hell of a bruise now,” he laughs, and reaches out in mimicry of Corbin - only he touches the boy’s hair instead, ruffling it up beneath his hand in what is most assuredly an affectionate gesture. After a long silence, he makes to stand, pushing himself to his feet. “Here, c’mon. We can spar later, or maybe I’ll convince Marlise to join in - he’s a better fighter than I am. We’ll go somewhere safer for the moment, until I’ve spoken with the others-- and we’ll have some food~.” He makes for the door again, limping slightly, and exits back into the courtyard. An arm wraps around Corbin and then they’re lifting up, the genasi’s levitation spell carrying the pair high into the air until they touch down on the open platform cut into the tip of a hanging stalactite - the location of the mages quarters. It might be a lot smaller than the barracks the warriors live in, but it is also entirely empty right now. Kirien is the only mage within House Stavret at this moment in time, and he’s glad for the space and silence up here. “By the way, I’m Kirien Vahir-Ar’Anthari. Bit of a mouthful, but hey. I’m Kuzial’s...friend~.” He grins a rather cheeky grin at that.