RP:Puss in Boots

Part of the Surface Tension Arc

Synopsis: Winter stalks the Underdark on assignment and Skylei's coin. She searches for a certain tall drow who may or may not have spotted Skylei's "friend" during her escape from Trist'oth recently (it's Skylei). Winter succeeds in finding and killing her prey, no thanks to Emerus's drow-loving meddling, and manages to escape with her prize before being caught by Gevurah.

Dead End (in the Underdark)

Gevurah isn’t here just yet! But another male drow, a patrol soldier, is. He is very tall, almost unnaturally so with hair a little more grey than your average drow. Dressed in all black with a pair of boots that are quite magnificent. When he walks he doesn’t make a sound, despite the rocks beneath his feet.

Winter watches the drow from the shadows. She was dressed in all black. She was usually dressed in all black but it was a little different. She had on tight black pants that disappeared into high laced black boots. Strapped to each thigh is a holster holding four knives in two rows. Her upper body is hidden beneath a black hooded jacket. The hood is drawn up over her face. Under the hood her long white hair was up under a short black wig and her face was painted with a black design that made distinguishing her features difficult. Only her white tail remained unhidden. She had managed to get her hands on one of those drow cloaks. The fellow that owned it decided that he didn’t’ need it anymore. Amazing what people will hand over when threatened with being slowly gutted. She had the eyesight of a cat but evens so seeing down here was difficult. Especially since her target was likewise dressed in black. She moves about the area waiting for her chance to move.

Emerus had followed a critter down into the depths, eager to kill it for its unique fur pattern. He lost it somewhere but he didn't know that and continued down. His elf eyes were good but when it came to the dark he couldn't see,not down here. He drew his bow and held it close, listened carefully with his sensitive ears, but still heard nothing. He's not clothed in black, but white stained with blood, as is his usual attaire when hunting for some odd reason.

The drow hid as soon as he saw the bright red flurry of Winter’s heat signature flicker in his peripheral vision. He climbed the stone wall soundlessly, thanks to very boots which Winter pursues, and perches on a rounded shelf formed by a boulder. He signals to his lizard mount, who can also see in infrared. The lizard dashes across Winter’s line of sight and past Emerus, hopefully taking their attention with him. With Winter hopefully looking after the lizard, the drow rogue lets loose a bolt from his crossbow towards the back of Winter’s hooded head.

Winter knows something is wrong when the lizard dashes by and throws herself to the ground as the bolt whistles through where her head had just been. Now she knew where he was. She rolls over and finds her feet facing where the bolt had come from. She was looking right at him and she knew it. She was very good with angles. But she decided to play it safe and lets her vision slip into the infrared spectrum. She couldn’t’ do it for long and it took minutes before she could do it again. But she just needed a target. Suddenly needles of ice appear between her fingers and she sends them flying towards him in a splayed out pattern making it much harder for him to dodge without taking at least a hit. Her vision would last just long enough to see what general direction he moved In or if he moved at all. After that it would be back to the darkness for a few mintues. Mintues that likely would have already ended the fight. The needles would be gone shortly after leaving her hands so even if they hit they wouldn’t be around long to be a constant pain.

Emerus jumped back from the sudden passing of the lizard. The stray bolt bounced around and skinned his arm, causing a slight hiss. He narrowed his eyes and shook his head to clear it. He nearly stepped in line of Winter's little attack and fell to the ground with a grunt. He had no idea what was going on, but he did know he was with a familiar and a stranger. He recognized the scent of Winter. He sank back to a wall and took in soft, slow deep breaths to keep himself hidden, though the drow would know he was there. Possibly winter too. Light was needed and needed now and Emerus couldn’t remember the spell in this situation and being under pressure. 'What is that spell. If only I could remember I could give light to us all. What is she up too and why is she this far down.' These are all questions he thought to himself, just as another hit. He let loose an arrow, the head lighting up with flames and sticking between a crack in the rocky wall, giving some light to the cave without a spell. "Thank you," he said followed by the bows name. A name that the drow would come to know as Treacherous Flame.

The rogue mouths a swear word as he misses his target and quickly dives out of the way of whatever counter attack this feline has planned. But the assassin is quite skilled and knew to splay her attack, and one of the ice shards hits his sword-wielding shoulder. He hisses as he falls off the boulder, but an interesting thing happens on his way down. His boots, seemingly by some magic of their own, flip him the right side up and make him hover safely above the ground. Enchanted boots indeed. He runs towards Emerus’s flaming arrow and snuffs out the flame in his piwafwi, never making a single sound. He waits before issuing another attack, throwing pebbles around the tunnel to the sound echoes and confuses the opponents as to his whereabouts. Finally, he strikes again, this time wielding a dagger with his non-dominant hand. He’s proficient, but not quite as dexterous. He skates in close to Emerus’s right side and stabs at his temple.

Winter saw the drow take the hit and even got a few seconds more sight thanks to the light. She then pivots toward the one that had set off the light and her hand goes to the knives on her right thigh. She sets one into the air right where she would be if she wanted to make sure the light didn’t come again. Depending on which side she was on it would either be aimed at the man’s sword arm, which was likely down, or his side as the other hand would be attacking. Either way didn’t matter to her. She just wanted a little more blood in the air. She loved the scent of blood.

Emerus snarled as the light from his arrow was snuffed out. The sound of thumping pebbles and rocks threw the elf off and he ducked low to walk along the wall, and he ducked just in time. he felt a presence near him and he reached out to catch the drows wrist and held it at bay. He spoke words though they may have little effect on the drow, but in their native tongue he said, "I'm on your side.... " He struggled to keep the drow from making his mark. His struggle was insight that he needed to work harder and become stronger physically and mentally.

The rogue is confused. Why in Vakmatharas’ unholy cornhole would an elf be helping a drow? But before he could call the elf a liar, because surely he is, Winter’s throwing knife catches in the extended wrist. With his left hand out of commission and his right shoulder in pain, the rogue is extremely vulnerable. This is an excellent opportunity for the elf to prove he truly is on the drow’s side. The drow, for his part, melts back into the shadows and blows a poisoned dart towards Winter from the opposite side of the tunnel. He’s fast!

Winter was already moving before she heard the sound of her knife making contact. There was that lovely smell of blood. It also told her where the drow was. She was not blood hound but she knew blood. It was her favorite scent in the world. She rushes in and goes passed the elf like he was of no interest to her. As he wasn’t. Another barrage of needles spread out in front of her towards the scent of the freshest blood and pain. That was another smell she liked. Such an intangible one. As she charges in she extends her claws. Each one an inch long double edged blade. Each one harder than steel. Each one flawless white. Not her thumbs though. She had those but they would be inconvenient right now.

Emerus still had no idea what was going on or why this was happening. He followed the scent of Winter and the bloody scent of the other and placed himself between the two, facing Winter and giving his back to the drow without a second thought. "Stop!" he said to Winter. "What are you doing? Why are you doing this?" he asked her. Too the drow he spoke once more in their native tongue, 'Send a message to your people and leader. I am friend of drow and can be most useful to your people on the surface." He wanted it made clear that he was aiding the drow, but still kept a secret as spoken in the drowish tongue. Back to Winter, "I remember you... and you should remember me. Please, why are you attacking him and lowering yourself to their standards? What has he done to earn this?"

Gevurah, the angry drow priestess, unreasonable D’Artes daughter herself, is approaching. The only thing that would tip-off her arrival is the gentle tat-tat-tat of giant spider legs crawling against the stone wall. As for the drow rogue, he manages to avoid Winter’s ice needles, but the clever assassin anticipated his dive and now charges at him. He braces for contact, but none comes. He opens one eye, doesn’t believe what he sees; opens the other, and still cannot believe his eyes. The elf truly does seem to be on his side! He’s as proud a drow as any, and would normally love the opportunity to stab an elf in the back, but he foregoes racially motivated violence in lieu of an ally, no matter how unlikely (or vomit-inducing). He scoffs at Emerus’s instruction, and instead blows a second poisoned dart around Emerus’s body towards Winter’s face.

Winter me ignores the elf and takes a flying leap easily clearing his head. Another barrage of needles goes out. She hits the ground very close to the source of the scent. She is an exceptional jumper among other things. At this range she can hear the drow’s breath. She dives in with a series of faster thrusts with her lethal claws.

Emerus is about to speak once more, but the soft tat-tat caught his attention and that's when both slipped away. He snarled and fired another arrow, but it bounced around looking like a small ball of flame. He ducks out of the way several times, but he always makes sure that he is between Winter and the rouge. "Stop this now! I will not let you harm him any more. Let it go. Please." Emerus grips his bow tighter, "I don't want to have to use Il'yandrosa's Chath on you. But I will if I must," he continued to say as he faced Winter.

Gevurah arrives mounted on a giant spider and in the company of five drow rogues riding lizards. The priestess is just in time to witness an elf stand in defiance of a feline, as she leaps over his head to shred a drow to bits with her claws of fury. The drow howls until Winter severs his tongue in several places. Soon his vital organs resemble confetti too, and Winter has successfully both ignored Emerus and completed her assignment. When Emerus’s arrow flits near Gevurah’s face, she flicks up and open a palm. The arrow’s kinetic energy and flame both die instantaneously. She signals her rogues into action. Three swarm around Emerus to enclose him in a circle of lizards and blades, but do not attack so long as he submits to their instruction to lift his hands above his head and not move. The other two join Gevurah to give Winter chase. Gevurah mutters an incantation and shoots a ball of maddening noise towards Winter’s head. If the orbs lands around one or both of the feline’s pointed ears, she could instantly be provoked into seizure. It’s a great time to run!

Winter sees that she has indeed finished the job and rips off the drow’s boots as she starts running for the surface she was not going to deal with a drow priestess and that’s exactly what appears to have arrived. It is by instinct alone that she dodges the ball of noise and vanishes up the passageway on swift feet that made little noise as even at a run she was able to pick her steps carefully. Job done. Time to report in.

Emerus closed his eyes for but a moment and mumbled something in drowish about the now dead one. He sighs and puts his bow away just as he is surrounded by more drow. He said not a single word and lifted his hands up like he was showing he had nothing to do with the death of their kin. Winter on the other hand, he glared at as she ran off. He took deep breaths and turned to face the priestess, unaware that she is one. She is on a mount meaning she is high ranking, so he lowered his head in a small bow while his hands were kept up.

Gevurah lets her rogues chase Winter, while she returns to deal with this elf who speaks drow and carries a drow bow. Slowly she descends from her spider and penetrates the wall of lizards and henchmen. She invades Emerus’s personal space, clearly unafraid. Her glare burns red as it scans his body temperature for signs of distress. He should be. “Who are you and why shouldn’t I kill you?” she growls.