Before the Pull: A Dangerous Curiosity

[TetNak]

Aelryn is certainly not used to this sort of stink. The woods were the elf's home, and he never understood why man built such places. Refuse beneath their feet, vile air, and crowded streets. No one disease was rampant in such places. Aelryn moves through the tunnel, stepping over old puddles of liquid. There are various side-tunnels and passageways that the elf does not take, and fortunately, when he comes to a dead end, he has not run into anything that tries to accost him. Besides dripping water and the sounds of his own footfalls, the elf is alone.

There is a ladder that heads up to a door. It isn't a grate, and so the elf cannot look through it.

[veritas]

Humans are disgusting, like rats in a way, but Aelryn is fairly certain that not even humans would have a meeting down here. The meeting place must be beyond the door ahead, so Aelryn claims the ladder and makes sure his cowl is pulled low before knocking at the door.

[TetNak]

Aelryn knocks several times before anything happens. Finally, when the elf thinks that this might not be the place, or that he's been abandoned, the hatch opens. Jacks looks down at the elf from above, "Sorry for the delay," he says, offerring Aelryn a hand.

[veritas]

Aelryn accepts Jacks' hand and climbs iup the hatch.

"No worries, did you encounter trouble?"

[TetNak]

"Not really, just had to stop to avoid a couple patrols."

When Jacks helps the elf up, he is surprised to see they are in some sort of buttery, or pantry. There is foodstuffs everywhere. It does not seem like a great spot for them, as the hold in the ground makes is smell terrible. Jacks seems to see the look on Aelryn's face and laughs. "They don't use this room for actual food." He waves for Aelryn to follow him. Jacks closes the door behind the pair.

"This way," he says, leading Aelryn down what appears to be different sections of a kitchen. There appears no one around currently, not scullions or cooks. Once they exit the kitchen they walk into a huge, oval, room. There is a large chandelure made of precious stones that hangs from the tall vaulted ceilings. There are various hallways exiting the room, but Jacks halts here. "We wait," he says.

And so they do, for long enough where they are uncomfortable and Jacks seems slightly irritated. "I wish there was a bath to dunk you into," he comments, "Your trip has made you stink."

[veritas]

Aelryn's eyes narrow slightly, "Yes, well, it was not my idea to travel through a waste dump to get here. Speaking of, for what reason do humans build such places? You all huddle so close together in these cities with raw waste underfoot, it's a wonder a plague hasn't ravaged your populace beyond repair!"

It's obvious that his trip hasn't left him in the best of moods, either.

[TetNak]

Jacks laughs, "Good question," he says, "To dump our dirty water into, shit and piss too, I guess. Flows out of the city." He shrugs, "I think you were in a rather clean part of it, or you'd be smelling worse. Think of it this way, you could be a corpse and smell much worse if a patrol found you."

As they talk, a human woman walks from one of the halls and waves toward those seated and waiting. "That's Natalya, Captain of the Screaming Eagles. Come on."

Natalya will never be a beauty. The woman's features could have been chipped from a piece of flint, as sharp as they are. Icy, pale green eyes do nothing to ease the hardness of her visage. In fact, nothing soft or womanly about her. Her snub nose seems like it should be longer, but was broken off. By the looks of her, it probably -has- been broken a few times. Freckles sprinkle across the bridge of her nose and cheeks, drawing attention to the bend. She wears very manish clothing, a jerkin, pants, and a rapier on her hip. If it were not for some very subtle tell-tale signs, one might thing she was a man.

[veritas]

Aelryn moves with Jacks to where Natalya is. He remains quiet, unsure of what is expected of him or how such meetings normally progress.

[TetNak]

Jacks and Aelryn follow Natalya down a hallway and into a large, oval, room. It is filled with fine silks, cottons, and wools; each material is dyed a different color, making the room appear very bright even though only lamp light is present here. There are two other men, one is an older gentlemen. He has a patch of grey hair, but is mostly bald. He is handsome, even for his age, with green eyes and a symmetrical face. The wrinkles he posses do not seem that frequent, and when he steps forward his gate does not seem labored.

The other man stands still, leaning forward against a high backed chair. The eyes of this one are perhaps his most striking feature. Deep pools of sapphire blue, appearing somewhat hard at the edges, his eyes are at once commanding and withdrawn, as if his thoughts lie elsewhere. Standing a hand or more below the average height for a man, this one would not, at first, appear very threatening. His stature is lithe, his movements precise, and his bearing confident to the point of regality. His skin is slightly tanned, and bears the slight wrinkles of approaching age. Mostly about his eyes, which often have danced, and his lips which often have smiled. His hair, flowing and raven black, descends in a tail to the small of his back, bound by a simple silver clasp. A thin pencil mustache decorates his lips, a trim goatee marks his chin. He appears, in truth, quite the scoundrel.

"Two Jacks!" The man with the mustache yells. "Is this the elf you say you found? I knew you were a liar and a cheat, but this is too much." His words seem to be good natured from what Aelryn can tell, but who knows with humans. "Let's see you, then," the man states, "Remove your hood. I want to get a good look at 'cha."

Jacks, or 'Two Jacks', comments, "That's Daerith the Deathblade, and that's Master Avory. He owns this fine establishment."

Full Description of Daerith

The eyes of this one are perhaps his most striking feature. Deep pools of sapphire blue, appearing somewhat hard at the edges, his eyes are at once commanding and withdrawn, as if his thoughts lie elsewhere. Standing a hand or more below the average height for a man, this one would not, at first, appear very threatening. His stature is lithe, his movements precise, and his bearing confident to the point of regality. His skin, a hue or two darker than the pale standard of Durnalis, bears the slight wrinkles of approaching age. Mostly about his eyes, which often have danced, and his lips which often have smiled. His hair, flowing and raven black, descends in a tail to the small of his back, bound by a simple silver clasp. A thin pencil moustache decorates his lips, a trim goatee marks his chin. He appears, in truth, quite the scoundrel.

His state of dress speaks of wealth; a fine silk shirt gracing his body, the color of charcoal and with the quality of that substance, drab while casting a subtle sheen upon the ruffles and folds of the billowing sleeves. His leggings are of equal stuff, supple sable velvet cut tight at the hips and waist, descending in a widening billow of fabric to the tight cuffs above his highly polished ankle boots. At his waist, loosely buckled, hangs a thick black sword belt, his blade dangling low upon his left hip. A cape of black velvet, lined with a deep grey satin and trimmed at the hem with threads of silver hangs light upon his shoulders, clasped about his neck by a small silver clasp in the form of a coiled dragon, a single sapphire set into its eye.

Upon his chest is born a stiff leather jerkin, dyed a deep crimson. A high and straight collar rises from the shoulders of the armor, pinned on either side of his throat with the bars of captaincy. Flaps of softer leather, dyed deep black trim the edges of the armor, the tail of those flaps studded with silver, his shoulders bearing the bars of a Captain. Atop his head rests a black beret, worn to the side, a single crimson plume pinned to its curled brim by a brooch in the shape of a silver eagle.

[veritas]

Aelryn frowns, uncomfortable, but does as he is asked.

"Quite the surname you have. I'm Aelryn, of Athel Loren."