A Dark Meeting

[Dravish]

Dravish!

The heaverly garbed elf looks up slowly from beneath his cowl at the sound of his name.

Dravish!

A thought enters unbidden into his mind, Fildraniel,, Making his was swiftly through the trees Dravish comes out into a clearing. Reaching beneath his cloak to take hold of the comforting shape which he knows as his wand.

Fildraniel!

The elf calls out the name and looks about for signs of the elfess, the only true person on this isle to show him any form of kindness.

Fildraniel where are you!

A soft sound behind him.. followed by a voice..

Ahh Dravish..

Turning slowly he makes out a figure emerging from the trees, clad as himself in dark clothing the figure comming into view was without doubt one of the men this elf truely dispised.

Konstantin..

Dravish looks to the loaded crossbow in the mans hand and then back to the figures face to be greeted by a mocking smirk.

Give me one reason not to shoot you after what you did to me, Dravish.

The elf sneers.

I didn't do anything to you. It was your own fault that you made a mistake. In any case, I had long forgotten about it. Haven't you yet?

A sound of a cocking crossbow spring answers the elf silently. Dravish stands calm and firm, without moving a muscle.

Where is the girl, assassin?

Said without emotion the words hang in the air, many seconds pass before the man before him answers.

I do not know. But you, asking after Fildraniel, why should it concern you. Are you after this girl? Why would such a lady have any interest in a sneaky bastard like yourself.

A flicker of annoyance shows in the pale elfs eyes as he approaches the man.

'It does not concern me in the slightest, but us ' Sneaky bastards ' as you like to call ourselves recognise each other upon sight'

I'm flattered.

The man laughs at the elfs words and raises the crossbow slightly.

Conitinueing with what he had said the elf goes on ' She is an innocent, Konstantin, and does not deserve to be stuck with one such as you, human '

' So Dravish, she deserves someone like you ?'

' No. she does not '

Click.... The crossbow goes off, the bolt races past the elfs face, missing by mere centremetres to go of into the woods beyond. the elf doesnt flinch and continues to look at the man.

'You sparkle quite well, Dravish'

The killer puts his weapon down.
The elf turns around and walks away with a slight laughter.
Konstantin's deep voice can be heard shouting into his path:

' If you hurt her, Dravish, it is not a matter of time how soon I will bring that pain to your doorsteps. '

Dravish pulls his cloak closely to his body and stops to speak a short sentance.

' You know not the meaning of Pain '

With those words the elf steps into the tree line and disapears from sight as if by magic.

[Dravish]

Emerging into the sunlight the darkly clad figure cover’s his eyes.

How long had passed, days? Years?

For some time the shrouded figure lets his vision settle and takes in the tree’s about him.

So here he was once more, the cursed isle. How fate must laugh.

A pale yet delicate hand reaches into the depths of the high brimmed cloak, removing in a delicate motion, a blade of the purest black. With uncaring eyes the figure watches the sunlight gleam onto the dark edge.

And so it begins..

The light seemed to seep into the blade, and for a moment the area surrounding the figure seems to darken. With a sound like that of a breaking knuckle the darkened edge begins to change, where once was steel is now only dust.

[Fildraniel]

A boat approaches the harbor. It seems rather small for this time of year, when the large merchant boats arrive. Yet it seems gracious, carefully approaching the harbor. On board, in one of the cabins, a young woman is sitting at a desk, writing a letter. The pointed ears do not hide her race, nor does her long but slim posture.

Glad as she seems, she rises. Walking out of the cabin, and on to the deck, a young man walks over.

"We are here ma'am."

Fildraniel gets a soft smile on her face, and wraps up the letter she still had in her hand.

"Thank you for bringing me here...What did I owe you again?"

The young lad smiled broadly, and turned his cheek towards her.

"You offered me a kiss on my cheek!"

Fildraniel chuckles, and leans in. She kisses his cheek softly, and then ruffles his hair. As she does so, the boat approaches the harbor, other men on the boat quickly docking.



Fildraniel quickly went on land after the boat had docked. She slides her letter in a bag to the side, and gazes at the land ahead of her.

"I wonder where he went.."

[Dravish]

With the patience of one who has all the time in the world Dravish made his way through the town known as trollsbane, about him people spoke and laughed amongst themselves, vendors shouted their wares and a drunk halfling danced within the town square. All seemed as it allways had been apart from the missing presence of Fildraniel. His one regret..
A sigh escapes the elf’s lips as he thinks of the young elfess, whose innocence had touched him deeper than he could imagine, perhaps there was more to this life than he could comprehend.

A shout breaks the elfs thoughts and he looks up. Within the town square was the old hag whom he had spoken to earlier, and standing over her was the hunched figure of a large orc. A primal growl leaves the orcs lips as he pushes the old woman to the floor, and with another grunt the creature stepped closer.

Strolling towards the scene Dravish steps lightly between the orc and the old woman, his dark eyes locking with the orcs. ‘ Walk away friend ‘. The orc reaches a large hand to where his sword is buckled at his side, only to feel a sting under his ribs. Looking down the large figure see’s a slender blade gripped within the elfs hand held to its side. Looking back to the elf the creature can see a slight smile curling about his angular features.

Somethings never change

[Moirear Sian]

A figure stands not far off, dressed in simple farmer's clothing, a heavy, grey cloak covering his body against the winter madness, and an absurdly large, round, wide-brimmed straw hat bound to his head, covering his eyes. Slender, almost feminine hands, gloved but with open tips revealing pale white skin, curl around and clutch a simple shepherd's crook which he leans upon, and a scarred face lurks beneath the shadows cast by the hat.

The face forms a devious smile, recognizing the familiar elf not at last for his ample and dextrous reaction to the orc.

The figure wanders off calmly and casually, heading for business, and the grin not ceasing to mark his lips.